Dear Friends,
I read a post today from a former client who is continuing her healing journey, in spite of many obstacles. I’m so inspired by her success and her courage, but I also got upset as she described the criticism she’s gotten for setting boundaries with people who have hurt her in the past, and even for sharing her story in the first place.
Why do we share stories about the hard things we’ve been through? Is it to bathe in our own narcissism? Is it to get everyone to agree “poor me”? Most of the time, I think not.
To take what we’ve experienced and make meaning out of it, to offer back something of beauty and value out of the experiences we’ve been handed, “good” or “bad” is the best part of human nature. This is why we create art, why we sing, why we tell stories of any kind. We take the random, the bewildering, the inexplicable, and we create order, beauty, healing, meaning.
When it comes to our personal experiences, sharing can feel so risky, so vulnerable. And yet when we have the courage to share, we begin to make sense of what we’ve been through; in the process, we touch other people’s lives and help them grow. The point of such sharing is always to understand, to heal, and to move forward into greater joy, greater love, greater connection with who you’re meant to be and how you’re meant to serve the world. How can we serve the world from a place of authenticity without understanding and making sense of our own story? How can we touch other people and be touched in return, without opening up to the vulnerability of such intimacy?
At root, the word “courage” means to be able to tell your own story with a whole heart. To take the random, the chaotic, the hurtful, the blissful, all together, and to offer back a glimpse of the pattern.
It’s said that the Mayan weavers begin each day with their piles of different yarns, their dyes, their memories of all they’ve experienced – and this prayer: “Grant me the intelligence and the patience to find the true pattern.” And so the weaving starts.
For today, I’m just grateful that my beautiful children are happy and well, and making meaning through their own forms of self-expression in ways that touch and inspire those around them. And my little horse Whimsical, who was on the verge of death all weekend, has experienced a miraculous turn-around and is now racing around her paddock and tossing her magnificent head in with life-affirming snorts of defiance.
So may it be for me, so may it be for you, and so may it be for all of us.
Namaste,
Erin
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