Women's Empowerment Stories ...

Storyteller
~ Bobute

“My journal is the place where I become real…” writes Bobute.

My journal is the place where I become real. Not a person, place, or thing. Only real. Not someone you think you know because you call mE friend. Yes you know my name, but do you really know who I am? Do you even care enough to want to know?

I am just someone who is passing through life. Someone you may have hugged, even kissed. When you stopped awhile, did you look into my
eyes, my heart, or deeper?

My journal does all these things and more. It holds mE between its pages. Lovingly. Tenderly. It keeps my joys, pain; shortcomings without judgement. A silent sentinel dedicated to guard my soul while feeding my spirit.

My life is scattered among many journals. All colors and kinds. Two are filled talking to my only son, beginning the day he passed away, almost 2 years ago. Tear stained pages rest among broken pieces of my heart. Two journals filled to overflowing with love from a mother's broken heart.

Old journals speak of another kind of pain. Self inflicted shame fills those pages. What I write today is different than what I wrote in yesterday's journals.

Often, without realizing it, we move on. Stepping ever so lightly along a soft green mossy path. We become kind to self without judgement. Learning to understand becomes another task among the many.

Pebbles are no longer huge boulders blocking our way. Even stone becomes weathered with age. It still remains rock. An accumulation of long ago, flushed from the river-bed of life.

My journals bring out who I am, while teaching mE to sing, along mossy green paths. In another time and place, others will know who I was. Possibly why I came along in their lives when they needed someone just like mE.

Journals are meant to be honest, real, hiding nothing. Why go there if you continue to hide? Fooling only yourself. The pages will show exactly how you feel. They do not pretend to be other than what we put between them.

Journals are stepping stones to healing. Just ask mE. I will gladly tell you about my secret garden of journals.......

~ Bobute, mE

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