Strength in Vulnerability

my-weakness-is-my-strength
My Weakness is My Strength by Ainhoa Ortez

 

I was asked this morning by my mother, “Why do you take time to write when it seems like more work? I will admit I was thrown off for a brief moment to collect my thoughts. A combination of irritation, bewilderment and sadness flashed in a matter of seconds.

 

 Irritation internal dialog,Why does it matter to you? It’s not your time.”

Bewilderment, internal dialog “Can you be any ruder? Denser?”

Sadness internal dialog, “I wonder when it was that you closed that door of your box of comfortability?”

My outward responds, “Well, it may seem like work but it’s a work that I enjoy. It’s moment in the day where I can be free from this world and enjoy the story waiting to be told. A place where there are no boundaries of restricted biases. My freedom to be me etc…  Would you like to read?”

 

To my appeasement, she did take me up on the offer and leaned in. She instantly liked the images from some of my other postings. Naturally I let her take my seat and skim the site. In a matter of minutes, she was lost in words. This made me proud. Not that she was reading my words but for the look of peace as it radiates through her smile. Her eyes gleamed as I clicked on others blogs with images of Spain, Iceland and even the California coastline. For those brief 30 minutes or so, she was not worried about task she needed to take care of or the frustrations from a disappointing job. Even the sound of my father’s demands of more coffee didn’t seem to take her attention away. Through the computer; she found a window tucked away behind thick drapes hidden away in box of comfortability. She proceeded to ask questions while I retrieved the cup of coffee for my father in-law. Her joy of awe and wonder let me realize; I need to be more appreciative of her. The path she chose to take was so jagged to which she developed a thick layer of separation from her aspirations and her obligations. This saddens me; yet at the same token, I admire her very much. I admire the strength it took to sacrifice her own ambitions to tend to her family. I admire the love she reflected as she spoke with words of endearment towards the grandbabies. I appreciated the effort she puts into every meal. 

Just remember there is love all around us. It can be found in the friendly smile of someone special, the simple gesture of kindness, or with our family and friends. More importantly, it is found in you. Take a moment and see the inner reasoning as to why you love the person next to you; what do you love about yourself to share with someone new; why family means the world to you; why that best friend is the best BFF of all time … Life has a way to close us from those feelings of vulnerability; be open for it; accept it and I promise; you can experience a love beyond measures. For you were uniquely, imperfectly created to be special. To which this world is so blessed to have the privilege of your very presence.

the-softness-of-a-view
The Softness of a View by Ainhoa Ortez

 

“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. So medicine, law, business, engineering… these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love… these are what we stay alive for.”
Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

 

 

Aino Ortez 

@AinhoaOrtezArt

facebook.com/AinhoaOrtezArt
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9 thoughts on “Strength in Vulnerability”

  1. I really enjoyed reading this ma’am. Sometimes expressions and acts of love are more than enough to convey a person’s thoughts. Like saying thank you to a person with the intensity and humbleness in the eyes can still mean the world. And blogs, there is so much we can learn and feel, it’s a window(as you said), which peeps into another world. I don’t know what your injury is but I wish you a speedy recovery. You have a great family to comfort you and I don’t think you need to worry about anything else in the world. Have a wonderful day ma’am.

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