Tag

bravery

The beautiful gradient of being real

Sometimes I think that we feel like it’s all or nothing – we either spill our guts and tell our inner secrets or we don’t say anything and stay closed up.

But it’s not black and white. It’s a beautiful, sparkling gradient of dancing flecks and sparkles of colors.

The gradient doesn’t require having full length conversations about things. It doesn’t require telling it all. Nor does it require sharing it with everyone. It doesn’t require you to be serious and it doesn’t require any further explanation.

The beautiful thing about the gradient is every little bit falls somewhere along it.

The empowering thing is that each time you share – a word, a sentence, a story, you are healing yourself, working towards bravery, combating shame, channeling compassion.

It’s when you are talking with a friend you trust, and you casually throw in a funny anecdote about what your therapist said to you. (and knowing that you don’t have to share any more than that. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.)

It’s when you state that a comment made by a co-worker, or student, or camper, triggered you. (and giving yourself the power – knowing you don’t owe anyone an explanation about why).

It’s saying, “I need a minute, I’m really anxious” (and only saying more than that if you want to)

It’s asking a friend to check in at the end of the day (and knowing that you don’t have to be in crisis to deserve support. You always deserve support).

It’s the time that you say, “Last night was rough.” (and leaving it at that.)

Is it not such a relief to say one of those things, and be met with a smile, a laugh, a compassionate or empathic response?

All of those times – and so many more – put you on the path, away from the darkness and into the light. All of those times prove to yourself – I can be real. I can share. I can do this. And the more that we practice this, bit by bit, the easier it gets. The more we are real, the more we give others permission to do the same.

And we heal. Bit by beautiful bit.

Trees

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It’s no secret that I adore looking at, and taking pictures of, skies and trees. This season, though, as winter approaches, I’ve found the trees just as mesmerizing bare and without leaves as they were when vibrant and bright at the peak of the fall foliage. I’ve been thinking about it, and the words that keep coming into my brain are, Trees are so brave.

It used to break my heart to see the leaves fall off the trees. To watch the blindingly beautiful colors drop to the ground, to see the world change from bright and full of life to gray, brown, white, and black. I used to count the days until I saw green on the trees. I felt so sad, seeing the bare trees.

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But something shifted this year. And I find myself looking up, at the trees, day after day after day. Trees are so brave. They bloom in the spring and summer, allowing themselves to fill with life and hope. In the fall, they simply shine. They don’t compete with each other, they don’t compare against each other. They go all out, being what they are, not judging, not caring what anyone thinks. They are beautiful and they shine. And then, in what is possibly their bravest move yet, they bare their soul. They drop their leaves, reminding me of what is often heard in my yoga classes: “Let go of what no longer serves you.” And the trees just…are. They show themselves to the world. They allow us to see every imperfection, every bump and bruise, every line and wrinkle. And possibly even more stunning than that, is how, through this bareness, we see the sky.

It just makes me feel a bit at peace in my soul, which has been much needed lately. To look up at the tree, and think, Trees are so brave. I can be brave, too. And I can be who I am, and I can be where I am, and I can feel what I feel and think what I think, and I can open myself to the world. And I can stand there, day after day, trusting that I can just be.

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