This Is Me

Alicia Cahalane Lewis
2 min readJan 17, 2022
“I’m Here on Purpose.”

This is me. I am a piece of all the words that tumble freely on this planet. I am a name. I am a body. I am a fraction of a whole.

If we were to see ourselves as fractions, we would stop trying so hard to be competitive with one another. We would stop delineating. We would stop this posturing. I am not saying anything new, as there have been many who have come before me who have envisioned utopian societies where everyone is on some equal footing, cooperative, and sharing.

Needless to say, utopian societies will falter, as will everything on this planet, to make room for other pieces, other ideas, and other sequences.

We’re trying to hold onto old ideals. Every one of us.

We’re struggling to regain our footing, and without our footing, we’re falling into despair. Nothing has changed. Doesn’t every society traverse some kind of uncharted territory? We’re in a time of such unprecedented upheaval we no longer know who to trust or where to go to find “right.” We’re alone. We’re searching for help.

Every one of us is struggling in our own way. Yet, if we can, we’re picking ourselves up every day, and either encouraging ourselves to be helpful, to be gracious, to be respectful. But when we’re not able to be any of these things, either deliberately, or because we’re too fatigued to be them, we continue to falter. We struggle to gain traction.

This is me. I am a writer and I put words together into sequences.

I am a mother. I think and act in love, most of the time, although it is getting increasingly difficult to be in grace when I, too, struggle to gain a foothold on what is happening before me. I recognize fault lines, but I want to believe that the world is safe, that there is goodness and trust.

I want to believe this and so I will.

If every one of us went into despair at a time when a ship was trying to right itself, and each of us all stood on one side of that ship looking out over a horizon of despair, that ship would capsize from the weight of all this grief.

Must we capsize our ship, our foundation? Or can we find goodness, a bit of support, and self-awareness that we are light and grace in a world that is struggling? Together, let’s move to the other side of the ship and stand, feet planted, knowing that we can no longer contribute to the insecurity.

We have, in us, the ability to be strong, to be helpful, to be gracious, and generous. We can be a ballast to help bring balance.

Instagram Blog Meditations Books Amazon