the kindness of strangers

Today I need to write about gratitude. I've started this post several times, trying to get the right angle or intro and realize it doesn't need one. Gratitude, in itself, is plenty. Actually, it's far more than plenty, but you know what I mean. I am constantly blown away right now by the graciousness of strangers, the energy and enthusiasm and support I've gotten. The helping hands extended. The brainstorming generated. The time and thoughtfulness expended on my behalf, so often from people I don't know, or at least don't know in the traditional let's-get-to-know-each-other-over-a-cup-of-coffee way.

Every person who reads this blog, every comment that's made, everyone who follows—thank you so much for being interested enough to pay attention.

The people who follow me on twitter, who make me laugh, make me cringe, make me think about things I don't want to think about, should be thinking about, think about too much, thank you. I have found pure souls, true hearts, goofiness when I need it, snarky attitudes that crack me up. I've watched a FLOW musical develop, ideas about empowering like-minded woman come to fruition, complete strangers become support systems for each other.

There are people out there who believe in FLOW so whole-heartedly, its message of openness and education, of questioning what we've taken for granted about our bodies for too long. Who are thrilled to embrace its challenging messages mixed with thoughtfulness. Thank you.

There are remarkable people making connections, contacting contacts, sharing information for no other reason than to support. Karma. Good, great, positive, soul-nourishing karma. A complete and welcome contrast to much of putting FLOW together. I worked with people who didn't think I was a good enough writer to make this book happen, who were horrified (or terrified, I'm never quite sure which it was), when hearing about my work process. I spent month upon month writing into a black void, not knowing if my thoughts, words, work was any good. And was accused of doing nothing but creating drama, of being difficult and egotistical and someone no one would ever work with again. Or would want to help.

By the end I was so beaten down I'd completely lost my mojo (thanks for that perfect term to @lissarankin). Completely spent, thoroughly burnt out, I didn't believe in the book, or myself, anymore. And so I'm even more grateful, now, for every single moment, every comment, every word, every mention, every thought and action sent out in my direction.

This path is crazy. To bare your soul, to work on something until you're completely depleted, to fight so hard every step of the way, with people you'd assume were on your side . . . and then to get to this place of sharing and compassion. Discovering kindred souls, surprising support, people wanted to get onboard and fight this battle with me.

Thank you doesn't cover it.