My mother ran into a woman, several months ago, that I had taken care of when I was a nurse (another part of my story!). She told my mother that I had been her nurse when she had a miscarriage, and that what I said to her, was a comfort and gave her hope. I felt flooded with gratitude that something I said, all those years ago, made a positive difference.
Nursing wasn’t my calling, and I only worked as one for a few years in my early 20’s. What I did love was talking with my patients, listening to what was happening in their lives, offering some thoughts. I never thought of this (talking) as a “gift”. As a matter of fact, I went through periods of my life where I tried not to talk, feeling that it was a defect of character.
How many times do we think that what we have to offer is no big deal? Even worse than that, the very thing that makes us unique, we try to stifle or hide because someone close to us said that they didn’t like or appreciate it, and so we too begin to see ourselves as defective, and try to conform to an image that is more “acceptable” to others, leaving the “original us” hidden deep inside.
“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are“. e.e. cummings