The Trying Mr. Lincoln

This is the first in a series of blogs designated to my time in Washington, DC.

I'm not planning on it being a timetable of what happened while I was in DC, and so some of the revelations will be out of order. However, I will mention that the reason why my family had traveled to DC was for my cousin Christie's wedding (Congratulations, Christie and Steven!). There was a lot of family bonding time, and definitely some sightseeing. However, some of the things I'm sharing in this series have been percolating in my brain long before the trip.

I don't know why I wait so long to take a vacation. I often wait until I'm teetering on the brink. My mind is plagued with not-so-fully-formed-plans of walking away from everything that I have just to try something new; something different; something-not-what-I'm-doing-right-now.

The week before my vacation was no exception. For the most part, I felt invisible, without purpose, and just going through the motions. My heart was breaking for different reasons and at the end of the day, I wanted out. I wanted to be inspired. I wanted to have so much more than this.

I'm sorry, Mr. Lincoln, there was a lot of pressure placed upon you and your memorial.

Luckily enough, my vacation and my visit to the Lincoln memorial did not disappoint. I stood in front of the famous statue in awestruck wonder. It took me awhile to find it, but I realized why I connected so much with President Lincoln; why I sought out to be inspired by him and the enormous statue that bore his image.

I am drawn to those who try.

When people look at me, they immediately know that I'm not a risk-taker by any stretch of the imagination. I suppose that is why I am often drawn to those who try. It doesn't matter if they fail or succeed, the fact remains that they tried. They dared to believe in a better world, and to the best of their ability, they made every effort to make it so.

I spent five days with my family. My thoughts on the sustained time I endured with my family will be reserved in another blog. But it is no secret that I tend to withdraw whenever I spend a long time with my family. I've lost my voice with them. They don't see me. From those family lessons learned in my formative years, I have let myself be silenced by those I believed to be better than me. I still haven't quite found my voice, but I'm confident that I will.

I've got to try.

And that single revelation has brought me more freedom than I had ever anticipated.

Thank you, Mr. Lincoln. Hopefully I won't have to keep flying out to DC to gain some perspective from you. Next time, I'll just remind myself to carve out some down time in my daily life.

That, or take a trip to Maui.