. . . In my quest to bring to light the vagaries, exigencies and tragedies of homelessness, I must always walk my path of turning up, paying attention, speaking my truth and staying unattached to the outcome—regardless of my goal, I must always stay true to me. . . .
~ Louise Gallagher
She is my friend. I've never met her.
I hold her close but she lives hundreds of miles away, in Calgary, Alberta, Canada.
I read her words a long time before I left my own on her blog, Recover Our Joy.
She uses words. Lots of them. Words that matter, that leave me wondering, questioning, moved, awed, honored.
She is, as I am, a writer. She is much more: passionate advocate for those who have no voice, speaker, certified professional coach, daughter, mother, wife, life-giver.
She writes about truths we'd rather not talk about: what it means to be lied to, abused, needy, confused, wanting, in hiding, out in the open, down and out.
She once had to go into hiding, leaving her children wondering, to save herself.
She's fearless in the face of wrong-doers. She wasn't always. She wrote a book, The Dandelion Spirit, "a true-life fairytale of love lies and letting go" that lets us in on a world others of us might know intimately but never have the guts to reveal.
She casts shadows, walks in shadows, walks behinds the shadows of others, always pushing pushing pushing to get into the light. In the light, she's quick to say, it's possible to heal.
She's on a journey. She's willing to take others with her. I've signed on. You might want to, too.
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At High Calling Blogs, we're celebrating the 12 Days of Christmas by highlighting blogs or Websites of people other than ourselves during this Season of Advent and Christmas. As our friend Glynn says, this is something we should be doing anyway, all the other 353 days of the year.
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4 comments:
oh these friends we've never met... and yet, haven't we... in spirit...
Thanks , Maureen, your words carry value,so I will certainly visit her blog.
Oh my. You my friend have made me cry. And today, is a day I am dry of tears yet needed desperately to cry. I sat today and held the hand of a man who is dying. A dying man's hands held in mine. I was warming his. Warming his heart. Warming his passage from this plane to the next as he has warmed my journey these past three years. As he will continue to warm my journey for years to come with the legacy of his photography. The memory of his gentle spirit lighting the path of dignity, no matter our state of being.
Thank you my friend for the tears. For honouring me with your words.
I of many words, am bereft of words in this moment.
Thank you.
Louise
Thanks for the introduction!
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