Pick Me
This was another morning when I debated whether or not I had time to walk at sunrise. It’s one of my favorite things to do, but I find myself in the curious place of feeling “behind” in retirement. There’s not a lot I HAVE to do…. launch prep is in place for the ladies who have trusted me to help them promote their books, and I’m on track reading the words of the writers I’m coaching. But I have to be honest, I would love a “rain day” to get ahead.
I opened the door to confirm I was still in paradise and noticed it was low tide. The walk would be easy on the flat, water soaked sand that was recently covered by the sea, so I grabbed my bag and headed out the door.
Clouds lined the horizon as I began my walk to the waters edge. Picks and purples began to kiss the sky and through the dim light I noticed the line of shells that had tumbled gently to the shore. They were not overly impressive in size, but bright colored and “whole”— much different than the crumbles that have lined the beach since we arrived.
I bent to pick one up and was distracted by another shell just a step away.
“Pick me” drifted through my thoughts, like a voice from an animated movie.
“Pick me,” said the conch shell. “I am the biggest” “No, pick me. I am the most unique,” said the whelk. “Ha! Pick me,” said the tulip. “I am the most beautiful.”
I shook my head as I stood. Ridiculous thoughts… talking shells. I need more sleep! I placed all three shells in my bag and continued my walk down the beach
As I neared the fisherman at my turnaround point, I noticed my friend, the crane, was back. I hadn’t seen her yet this year and was worried she had finally died after years of tormenting the fisherman along this stretch of the Florida coast. I spent a lot of time watching her as I wrote my book two years ago. She stands alone in the morning, taking in the sunrise… worshiping with her feet in the sand.
I stopped and stood with her awhile. Time to pray and time to think. How often am I like the shells?
“Pick me to be your friend!”
“Pick me to be your coach”
“Pick me to share your heart!”
Pick my ideas… like my posts… read my book… write a review. And when you don’t, I’m sad and I join the other shells (voices) in protest.
How wonderful would it be to know your purpose, choose your place, and stand with conviction, even if you had to stand alone for a time?
The latter may fell lonely, but eventually someone will notice your words, value your experience and be changed by your way of living. You’ll fall in step with people who set your creativity on fire and encourage your call.
There are a thousand shells on the shore, but only one crane. Which will you allow to inspire your words this week?
Write well. Be happy.
xo