Angie Gumbo Writer is here and we’re on the porch . . .

Angie is here and we’re settin’ on the porch with our laptops, on a cool smoky mountain morning. Last night we ate and had wine and GMR prepared a pineapple upside down cake that Angie snapped a photo of and placed on her blog.

In the meantime, I’ll just leave you with a post from the R&T YOG blog from a couple years ago. Have a great day!

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I remember days when I felt I had no voice. When what I thought and what I did could be separate entities, because they had to be. I could write a very long blog about the instances where I felt I had no power, but I will not bore you with the details. Most all of us at one time or another has felt powerless against some force that has pushed its will upon us. I also know there were times I felt powerless when I really was not. I either was too afraid, or too naïve, or so used to how things were rather than how they could be that I did not make a change; I did not find my Voice, or my Power.
The other day, I had a conversation with someone, and without giving away details or places or events, this person said, “I really want to say something, but I’m afraid of the consequences.” I looked at her: this woman who is smart, capable, beautiful, and I wanted to tell her, “You have more power than you think.” But, what if I convinced her to speak up and the consequences she was afraid of happened? What good would her power be to her then? Of course, if the situation she is in warrants such care, such fear of reprisal, wouldn’t she be better off out of the situation?
We can have different levels of perceived power. If I speak up, and the consequences happen, I can shrug it off, go on my way, and be just as happy, if not happier. But for this woman, she cannot perceive her power in that way. She will see the outcome as disastrous. I recognize my power in situations much more now than I ever did in my early adulthood. One learns that there is always something else. There is always another. There is always the next thing. There are some situations that are just not worth the anxiety, or the discomfort, or the sad, or the anger, or the fear, or the stress. I want to pass my power on to this woman, to tell her to stand up for herself, to give her the eyes to see inward the power she possesses, but I cannot. She must find it for herself.
(Though I didn’t write this original post about my writing life, I find this applies in so many instances!)

Where do you find your power? How will you gain back what power, or voice, you’ve lost?

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