Released Containment
The purpose of the Victory Letter when I first put fingers to the keyboard 13 years ago was to erase the chalkboard each week and write what mattered in that moment. This medium that I use to write to you each week is my commitment to be true to the belief that anything is possible.
It’s like a friend or a companion along any journey - someone who you know will laugh with you, cry with you, be there in the light ... and be there in the dark. To be your compass when the path seems incredibly uncertain.
I shared back in June my appreciation for those of you that have been loyal readers who have been clicking your open button to see what I have to say on Monday morning. With many of you on the journey with me for as long as I have been writing these letters.
Please know, you are the juice that keeps me writing. Your notes, comments and emails are my confirmation to keep doing this at the break of day on Monday.
As we look towards the season of change here both in the hints of seasonal change that is around us, and the constant possibilities of change that hovers around us all our waking hours, it can be a bit daunting to say the least. After all - we get comfortable with what "is". And change... well it can disrupt our status quo and takes us way out of our comfort zone.
I had written another Victory Letter for this morning - however another message seemed much more important today. Last night I sat out under the moon and stars contemplating the change of season - which here in Colorado can be dramatic in as little as a few weeks from now. I embraced the change in front of me on several levels and it felt good just to open myself to what is possible to come versus fearing or dreading it.
Several weeks ago the world said goodbye to a dear family friend, Bobbie Maloof. She was one of my mom’s dearest friends for as long as I can remember. She and her family and my family were just that - family to each other. We had one of those relationships that warms the heart and no matter how many years passed in not seeing each other the strong bond and love remains.
For those of you who are mourning a loss of any kind in your life know that while the loss is heart wrenching in ways only imagined, it also deepens the way we look at the world and how we move our foot forward each day. As un-empowering as it seems in the moment it in fact empowers us beyond belief.
Anyone who has lost a beloved parent knows what I mean. I have thought of the Maloof “girls” often these weeks and know that Bobbie’s five daughters are missing their mom terribly as well as is her amazing husband, Jim, who loved her deeply for nearly 50 years of his life.
Losing my mom five years ago I thought was going to send me off the deep ends of the Pacific Ocean...a piece of my core no longer available to me. That special place within my mother’s arms became only a memory for me to carry around in this container we each have in our human existence.
We have a choice at the end of the day how we treat our human container. While we can accept what is and move forward or become like a pressure cooker ready to blow at any moment. Even with a pressure cooker there is relief steam that must come out or the container will implode right before it fully explodes. Our relief valve can simply be extreme self care and sharing what is inside of us.
While today’s letter comes later than usual - sometimes we need to rethink, rewrite and release the containment we feel in order to get the core of what we believe.
So I ask you to open yourself fully to all of your possibilities, remembering the best stuff is right under the surface.
And remember when you find your way to release what is inside you - that’s when you are not longer actually contained. Would love to hear from you either by email or below here on the blog.
Make it an amazing week ahead!
To Your Successes and Victories,
- Cheri
Cheri Ruskus
Author, Business Growth Coach,
and Founder of the Victory Circles
www.VictoryCircles.com
