ππππ’π¨ ππ¨π§πππ«π’π§π : π π«π¨π¦ ππ‘π ππ§π§ππ± ππππ’π¨, π ππππ¬π¨π§ ππ¨ ππππ© ππ«π’ππ’π§π
The past couple of weeks, Iβve struggled to find the energy, or maybe the heart, for my daily Patio Ponderings. Things outside my creative space have been weighing on me, and Iβll admit, my vanity wasnβt helping either. The lack of interaction from readers made me wonder if these reflections still mattered.
But this morning feels different.
Different because I learned that my words π©π’π₯ mattered. They had helped someone I respect; someone who had never shared their own struggle; someone who quietly read my posts and drew strength from them during a difficult season.
Last night, a friend pulled me aside for a quiet conversation. They opened up about the elimination of their position, their frustrations with todayβs hiring process, and the clunky, impersonal world of unemployment systems. I wish I could say I was surprised, but their story mirrored much of my own: ghosting, false enthusiasm, and job postings that lead nowhere.
In the midst of it all, they kept moving forward. They tackled much-needed home remodeling projects while continuing their job search; projects that had been started before the job elimination, ones that left their home in disarray and had to be completed for their own sanity.
Our conversation ended with good news. Theyβve accepted a new position with a great local company. But what struck me most was when they said my writings, shared on LinkedIn and Facebook, had helped them stay grounded. Helped them keep going.
That small note of impact was enough to bring me back to the keyboard this morning; that, and the beautiful spring flowers popping out of their winter slumber.
So here I sit at the Annex Patio (my terra-level executive suite), tapping out another Patio Pondering. Maybe these few words will help someone else get through their day. Maybe they wonβt. But today, Iβm reminded that itβs worth the effort, because sometimes the quiet readers are the ones who needed it most.