Since the inception of Love Notes my mom would sign up for each round. It always made me smile when I saw here name on the list. Having your parents cheer you on never gets old no matter how many years you turn. Plus, having them participate in something you created is the icing on the cake.
But then her named stopped appearing. I thought maybe she was to busy and didn't worry to much about it. When the next round came and she didn't sign up I knew something was going on. Was it that the obligatory phase of having to be involved in your childrens activities had faded? Was she just not interested? Did something about the project turn her off?
Love Notes was created with the intention of being a project that was easy; something anyone could participate in. I didn't want people to feel like they had to be an artist, create an incredible piece of work, or write brilliant words. I didn't want anyone to be intimidated. Yet that is exactly what was going on with my mom; she was intimated by the lovely postcards she had seen popping up in the Facebook Group.
It is human nature for you to compare yourself to others. Your inner demons sing their evil songs and weave a tale that tells says you aren't good enough and for some reason you begin to believe them. You get into a vicious cycle of compare, compare, compare and you forget to look around and see what magic you are creating.
You are uniquely you and bring beauty
to this world in a way that no other can!
No one expresses themselves the way you do.
No one shows up the way you do.
No one holds hands, gives hugs, or smiles the way you do.
Who you are and what you do matters
And you need to share that light with the world.
I reassured my mom that she did not have to make her own postcards. That what matters most is that she is taking time to write something to a complete stranger. Even if all she wrote was; "hello, I am thinking of you" that would be enough and it would be a gift to the individual who received it. She decided to fight those inner demons saying she wasn't good enough and she signed up again.
Fast forward a few years. My mom is no longer with us yet each time I host Love Notes I can feel her cheering me on. Her spirit is strong and her handwritten notes that she has sent has touched the lives of others.
By pure magic and divine kindness one of her notes arrived in my mailbox unexpectedly this year. As I opened up the envelope I had no idea what it was but noticed the handwriting and was blown away that it looked so much like my mom's. Upon further reading it was in fact my mom's handwriting.