Love Letter to My Own Dear Self

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This post was written and scheduled before I began my new blog schedule, which explains why it’s not of particular interst of rubber tramps, nomads, travelers and van dwellers. I’ll be back on track next week.

Dear Me,

Hand with oil pastel draws the heartI know I don’t often tell you how much I love and appreciate you. It’s easy to get caught up in negativity and criticism and to forget to express gratitude for all the good. So on this day of hearts and flowers, I want you to know there’s so much I like about you.

I love your laugh and your sense of humor. When you think something’s comical, you don’t hold back; you’re not afraid to laugh long and loud. It’s awesome that you’re funny and make other people laugh too. You see what’s amusing even in sad times and amidst irritation. You know how to lighten a situation with humor, a trait your coworkers always appreciate.

I admire your love for the underdog. You have compassion for every homeless person on the street, every panhandler, every sign flyer. You don’t see the poor as a huddled mass, but as individuals, each with a story. You care about all of them. Remember when the dental office lied about the cost of their procedures, then tried to manipulate you into paying too much for services you didn’t want? You weren’t only angry about what they’d tried to do to you. You were also outraged because they are scamming poor people with few choices who may not know how to protest. It’s awesome that you can recognize and speak out about the suffering of others.

I’ve seen you give the shirt off your back to a man who was cold. (You had a t-shirt on underneath and more shirts at home, but it was a favorite shirt, and you were chilly as you walked back to your house.) I’ve seen you give a dollar to a sign flyer when you were mostly broke yourself. I’ve seen you give something you loved to a friend who admired the item. I know you don’t like to brag about your generosity (you’re modest too!), but I see and appreciate the way you share.

Your creativity is fantastic. Not only can you take a few old catalogs and some glue and turn out a beautiful collage, you can problem-solve to make real life better. I’ve seen you make a tasty dinner from a few random ingredients. I’ve seen you extend the life of your favorite jacket by sewing thrift-store patches over stains. I’ve seen you turn an old skirt into a curtain. You’re blessed with an imagination that allows you to see how what you have can be changed into what you need.

Your creativity pairs nicely with your frugality. If you have a need, you don’t rush out to buy a brand new something. You think about what you already have that might solve the problem. You shop at thrift stores and free boxes until you find what you need, or you try to do without. You never buy new clothes, and when new shoes are necessary, you look for a good deal on EBay. You find the free activities in every town you visit, and you know how to cook dinner in the park so you can avoid paying for restaurant food. You never met a bargain bin, reduced-produce shelf, or day-old bakery rack you didn’t like.

I know you are a loving friend. You write cards and letter to people you know will never write back Three Red Heart Balloonsbecause you hope getting mail will brighten someone’s day. You work hard at being a good listener, whether a pal is telling you a funny story or lamenting a sad situation. You call people; you comment on Facebook; you stay in touch.

You’re a great writer, and you keep getting better. Your growth as a writer is evident to anyone who reads your blog regularly. Your writing ability was fine when you started, but the consistent practice has brought you to a higher level. Readers are engaged with what you have to say; you know how to pull them into the story. You’re learning how to be more concise, and you’re not afraid to try new ways of weaving stories so your readers don’t get bored after three years of regular posts.

Of all the things I like about you, your hope is what stands out most. You’ve had hard times, and there are probably more on the way, but you haven’t given up. You may not always believe life will get better, but you hang onto the belief that life could get better. You haven’t given up on improvement. You may say, What’s the point? but you haven’t yet concluded that there is no point. Sometimes your hope is big, but even when your life is at its worst, you hold onto at least a glimmer of optimism.

I know sometimes you want to pull away and hide when you feel unloved and unwanted and unappreciated. Please remember, you are always loved. I love you. I appreciate you. I’m always here to take you in my arms, rock you gently, kiss your tears away.

Love,

Me

beautiful, hands, heart

Images courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/hand-with-oil-pastel-draws-the-heart-6333/ , https://www.pexels.com/photo/three-red-heart-balloons-704748/, and https://www.pexels.com/photo/sunset-hands-love-woman-5390/.

About Blaize Sun

My name is Blaize Sun. Maybe that's the name my family gave me; maybe it's not. In any case, that's the name I'm using here and now. I've been a rubber tramp for nearly a decade.I like to see places I've never seen before, and I like to visit the places I love again and again. For most of my years on the road, my primary residence was my van. For almost half of the time I was a van dweller, I was going it alone. Now my (male) partner and I (a woman) have a travel trailer we can pull with our truck. We have a little piece of property, and when we're not traveling, we park our little camper there. I was a work camper in a remote National Forest recreation area on a mountain for four seasons. I was a camp host and parking lot attendant for two seasons and wrote a book about my experiences called Confessions of a Work Camper: Tales from the Woods. During the last two seasons as a work camper on that mountain, I was a clerk in a campground store. I'm also a house and pet sitter, and I pick up odd jobs when I can. I'm primarily a writer, but I also create beautiful little collages; hand make hemp jewelry and warm, colorful winter hats; and use my creative and artistic skills to decorate my life and brighten the lives of others. My goal (for my writing and my life) is to be real. I don't like fake, and I don't want to share fake. I want to share my authentic thoughts and feelings. I want to give others space and permission to share their authentic selves. Sometimes I think the best way to support others is to leave them alone and allow them to be. I am more than just a rubber tramp artist. I'm fat. I'm funny. I'm flawed. I try to be kind. I'm often grouchy. I am awed by the stars in the dark desert night. I hope my writing moves people. If my writing makes someone laugh or cry or feel angry or happy or troubled or comforted, I have done my job. If my writing makes someone think and question and try a little harder, I've done my job. If my writing opens a door for someone, changes a life, I have done my job well. I hope you enjoy my blog posts, my word and pictures, the work I've done to express myself in a way others will understand. I hope you appreciate the time and energy I put into each post. I hope you will click the like button each time you like what you have read. I hope you will share posts with the people in your life. I hope you'll leave a comment and share your authentic self with me and this blog's other readers. Thank you for reading.  A writer without readers is very sad indeed.

10 Responses »

  1. This is one of the most loving, supportive, appreciative letters I’ve ever read and it’s even better because you wrote it to yourself. I love the fact that you supported every compliment with facts. We’re not what we say, we’re what we do. And you have examples of the loving , creative, generous soul that you really are. Please let me add adventurous, courageous, resilient, and wise, and there are so many posts on your blog to support everyone of those. Escaping your abusive boyfriend, selling crafts, traveling in your van, traveling alone, finding work to support your lifestyle, risking love again, refusing to dwell in problems, going on when you’re not sure exactly what to do next, trying new things, deciding on a home base, and the list goes on. Your posts are one of the reasons I got away from my abusive boyfriend of 3 months. It’s amazing how quickly I got use to the abuse – and thinking about it still makes me cry – but your post on that girl being verbally abused and mistreated gave me a moment of clarity. I owe you so much and I don’t even know you. Thank you for being you. Happy Valentine’s Day.

    • Cerene, thank you so much for this message. It really means the world to me. I am especially glad to know that something I wrote helped you gain clarity so that you could end an abusive relationship. Knowing that you got out before things got too bad gladdens my heart. Thank you for sharing your story with us. Much love to you.

  2. I agree with the above comments!! Absolutely beautiful! Wish I had the tech-savvy to tweet this…… (?) Thank you so much for being you AND articulate!! You are appreciated!

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