I tell wonder-filled stories about hope and healing
Letting go is a choice rooted in the desire to be free from emotions that do us more harm than good, and the circumstances that cause those emotions. They’re often deeply entrenched within us and that familiarity, no matter if those emotions are positive or negative, breeds a certain level of comfort. We’re sure of those emotions, even if we don’t necessarily like them. To release them is to drift out into the unknown. Here’s what I’m learning: when you let go, you don’t sink. You float.
Birthdays are declarations that we’re here now and in some way, however small, the world will be different as a result of our presence. I’ll be watching the fireworks on the Mall tonight with friends (provided the rain holds off) and when those colors flash across the sky I’m going to think about how lucky we are that we get to live in a country that fervently believes in the power of new beginnings and our ability to make a difference.
Rarely is a sculptor handed a perfect piece of stone to carve a work of art. Often the stone is craggy, jagged, and discolored in some spots. Imperfections abound. While there is the impulse to do away with all of those imperfections, the capable sculptor sees them as gifts to be worked into the piece rather than subtracted from it. He or she doesn’t fight them, but cherishes them and uses them.
Our lives are like these stones. If we have lived, really lived, we have been broken. Sometimes repeatedly. When there’s a fresh break, healing can feel like Oz, a destination we can see but never reach. But if we can sit with these disappointments, massive and painful as they are, we find that Oz is not so unattainable after all. If we can really let the light flow freely through them, if we can find a way to learn the hard lessons that brought them to us, then these misfortunes are as valuable as every triumph we ever achieve. Maybe even more so. We can make meaning out of them just as the sculptor draws meaning from every stone, imperfect as it may be.
Anne Lamott once said, “If you have the courage to free yourself, take a risk and tell your story with the hope of freeing someone else.” So, here’s hoping. Yesterday I decided to take a risk and so something that really scares me: I signed up for a storytelling class at SpeakeasyDC (soon to be renamed Story District), a nonprofit here in D.C. that specializes in the art and science of storytelling. On July 20th, I’ll start the 5-week intensive program that will culminate in a public performance.
This class will help me discover a whole new community of like-minded people in D.C. while also helping to foster a time of personal growth, discovery, and creativity along with a new outlet for my writing. SpeakeasyDC has a show on Tuesday, July 14th, entitled The Charismatic Leader: Stories about those we follow for the right & wrong reasons. Looking forward to seeing the finished product and then learning the behind-the-scenes work that brings it to life. Here’s to taking on tasks that scare the wits out of us! They make us feel alive.
Progress isn’t something that just happens over time. It’s something we have to build, especially when we find ourselves back at square one. I’m terrible at endings, even the ones that are good for me. It feels like a defeat. It’s very hard, almost impossible, for me to walk away from something or someone I care about, even when I know it’s the right thing to do. I think I can fix anything, and anyone, and that’s just not true. So in my email I keep a list of all the reasons that this ending had to come to pass. Whenever I get wistful, I open that list and remind myself that I’m better now and will continue to get a little better every day from now on. One foot in front of the other. One day at a time.
“In a society that profits from your self-doubt, liking yourself is a rebellious act.” ~ public transit poster
This is a short week for me because of the holiday so on Friday I’m giving myself a day of intensive self-care: my first ever acupuncture treatment, a new haircut, a delicious lunch, and some time going to a museum or an indie film at my favorite movie theater in D.C. The best way to give your best to others is to take care of yourself. Be a rebel; like yourself.
There’s nothing wrong with taking the high road, even when someone hasn’t earned that amount of kindness and courtesy from you. After all, you’ll have a better view from up there and that perspective will help you avoid the people who choose to make the low road their home.
I hate setbacks. They are a drag with a capital D. They’re also a natural, albeit nasty, part of life. Anyone who tries to create something or change something experiences them. I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Come close and listen. Those setbacks are jewels. They are roadblocks in the best sense of the word. They make sure you don’t go down paths that aren’t meant for you and that you stay focused on the people who are meant to be in your life. Not everything, nor everyone, is your work to do.
So take the roadblocks as they come. Take a deep breath and look around for the clear way forward. It may be a different road than you envisioned but that’s the nature of adventure. It’s never how you imagine it to be. Relish the surprises and take them in stride. They’re there for a reason, and someday that reason will be clear. Trust.
So many times we’re asked to shrink, to tempter our expectations, to conform, settle, and receive less than what we truly deserve. Yesterday, the Supreme Court changed that. Love won, and not just the “right” kind of love according to the definition of a shrinking minority, but ALL love for EVERYONE. That decision made my eyes tear and my heart open. The decision on gay marriage is proof that we have higher standards, for ourselves and our government. That we can do better than we’ve done in the past. That we can transform. That light, and love, will win as long as we continue to believe and continue to fight for every person’s dignity. Up with love!
“You must find the place inside yourself where nothing is impossible.” ~Deepak Chopra
External circumstances affect our state of mind. They help us to make excuses for ourselves and others. We point to time, a lack of experience, too much competition, or money as obstacles to having the lives we want and deserve.
But even in your darkest hour there is a light. Maybe small, maybe hidden from plain sight. Somewhere inside you, there is a place that believes in goodness. A place that believes your life now doesn’t have to be your life tomorrow. That light burns with the belief that change, growth, and joy is not only possible, but probable, if only we could tap into its strength.
When life seems overwhelming, I close my eyes, I put both hands on my heart, and I breathe. I breathe right into that tiny light. And with every breath, I let that light grow. I spread it around into every dark corner of my mind and my body. Especially the parts that hurt. Especially the parts that house fear, anger, or loneliness. That’s where the light is needed most, and all we have to do is allow it to do what it does best—shine.
