Thursday, 4 February 2010
“Ordinary courage is about putting our vulnerability on the line.”
It’s hearing those biting words come out of my mouth, breathing in, out, in, out and then softening for their sake, to apologize, to set it right, to tell the truth that it’s not them, they’re not bad, it’s my fault and I’m sorry.
It’s coming to the end of myself when I’m running from the darkness I know within, and after days (years?) of hiding and cowering, I give it up. I see the shame in my heart and the bleeding wound where it’s been eating away for so long and I’m overwhelmed but I lay down, defeated, finally free.
It’s sitting in a friend’s living room, hearing myself described through the lens of a book, staring at the floor and biting my lip to keep the hot tears from spilling out, because it’s painful to hear the truth, and even more exposing to share this deep truth with friends, even these friends who will love me no matter. It’s knowing this is good work, that it’s somehow restoring me, so just sit still and pay attention.
It’s those private moments in the mirror when the first thought is hateful and poisonous, then realizing this is the substance that will infect my whole life, my home and my children, and then willing my face to soften, to repeat what is true, to give myself the love I give to others, to understand myself as I long for others to understand, and to decide that right here and now, I am enough.
It’s showing up to blog, to write it out, to share my love and pain and hope and struggle because aren’t we all in this together, and the more reminders I can get, the longer my head stays above water. It’s being in community, cultivating deeper soil where it matters and planting seeds of love, love, love wherever I go because a love, even that small, can change my heart and the entire, whole world.