I recently had a friend give me thanks for my influence on her journey. I was not receiving the gratitude, deflecting at every turn. Finally, she said, “Let me put it this way, ‘You are my Matt (Russell).’”
That worked. That I could understand. That I could receive. When I reflected back to her that it doesn’t get better than that, she said, “Yes it does. You are also my Yan (Digilov).”
Then my mind went to how amazing it would be for me to also be her Bill Kerley, her Randall Sylvester, her Paul Lodholz, and her Alan Patton. The idea that I could be all of the greatest mentors and teachers I’ve had and then (s#)it REALLY hit me, why am I not recognizing publicly and privately all of the women mentors, teachers, and leaders who not only taught me, but saved me, listened me into being, encouraged me to find and connect with my soul, my heart, my who and my why, and then for heaven’s sake, find the breadcrumbs to the how.
So here IT is.
My heart pours out the beginning of the thank you letter I will spend the rest of my life writing, in my intentions, in my ‘me’ness, through my doing AND my being. I see you. I thank you.
I hope to be someone’s;
Judy Leatherwood Smith
Sister Lois Dideon
Sister Ann Goggin
Cameron Dezen Hammon
Sonya Foteh Garcia
(Probably others who I am not conscious of in this moment, because for some reason, I am still learning from and whose lessons I am still coming to terms with, including but not limited to all of my female relatives. I see you and I honor your loving influence. My soul knows.)