Thank you for the reminder, K.K.

people who have experienced deep suffering

and are still gentle with others

do not get enough credit

to not let the hard things

that happened to you win is heroic work,

to drop the bitterness

and still live with an open heart

despite it all

is a massive gift to the world

                            - Yung Pueblo/ Diego Perez 

Thank you for your comment on my Facebook post from a few weeks ago, the post with the quote by Yung Pueblo. 

The quote about the people who have been through the hard but still find a way to keep their hearts open and how it’s a gift to the world. Your comment said you saw this in me. 

Honestly? My first thought was, no, not me. No, this quote is about those who have been through the epic. But then I remembered that I had a front-row seat to all the times an emotional experience grabbed the spotlight of my attention. I remembered how I’d call out to the Folks Upstairs, crying or raging as I starred in my own personal Greek tragedy, bent like Atlas under the weight of emotions and, unlike Elsa, unable to let it go, let it go, unable to process it differently in the moment of the unfolding, thereby making those experiences feel astoundingly epic.

And then I thought, okay. Maybe I have had my experiences of the epic. But I can get so caught up. You don’t see the times when the anger or bitterness or sadness of an interaction has me by the throat, cutting off access to breath from my heart, making it difficult to reach for that light of forgiveness and grace and compassion and all the words that would lead me back to love and wanting to love. 

And then, I looked back at the quote, still trying to justify my perception that it still couldn’t include me, couldn’t count me among those in its dictionary of examples the way you thought it did. Do you know what happened when I looked at the quote? I spent more time on the words, "drop the bitterness."  I had missed the importance of the word “drop.” To drop. As in, to let go of something once held, acknowledging the decision to do so, and resulting in the action of release.

And then, I looked at your comment again and realized that 1) in my reaction to it, I was diminishing my light and 2) because you took the time to share what you saw, I looked again and I could now see what you saw, I could now see what I had glossed over before. I was forgetting that when struggling in the dark night of emotions, I always found a way, eventually, to get hold of a flashlight. Thanks to your comment, I remembered that all those times I was caught in the thunderstorm of a life experience, a part of me eventually, no matter the circumstances, always wanted to find and therefore found my way back to reaching for that flashlight, imploring the company of Heaven as I stumbled in the metaphorical wet and the slippery for help with turning on that light. Thanks to your comment, I remembered that I always asked for help, no matter how long it took for me to ask, with moving through the power outage until the electricity returned. 

So, I wanted to thank you for your comment. Thank you for taking the time to share it. Thank you for helping me to see me and in the seeing, value me a bit more consciously.

 

Do You See a Face In the Sky? I Do

 

Wellness Check from You Better Be Lightning by Andrea Gibson

 

Self work Quote from Michell Clark

 

A Reminder from wheresmollie

 

Dear You, Last Year, Dear You, This Year

At some points in the last 360+ days:

You made space for new beginnings.

You said, “Hello.” You said, “Goodbye.” Sometimes literally, sometimes energetically. And even when it was the right choice for you to make, sometimes it was just plain north of hard. But you did it.

You noticed signs and made more conscious choices, endeavoring to make deposits into the banks of self-love, self-care, and mental and emotional well-being.

You treated yourself with grace, kindness, and compassion. You treated others with grace, kindness, and compassion. Or you kept/ keep working on it. Which counts too.

You allowed yourself space to feel your feels, and practiced not shaming yourself for doing so (Gold Star!). Then, afterwards, you found a way to keep moving forward.

Your literal presence made a difference in someone else’s experience of their day. Therefore, at the very least, you basically left your unique fingerprint on their journey (the kind that will never, ever rub off).

You allowed others to touch your heart.

You bravely asked for help.

You had audacity for breakfast, set some wheels into motion, and plan on doing so again.

You paid attention to your inner child and showed up for yourself. You made tough decisions and gently (sometimes fiercely) had your back.

You spoke up. Sometimes immediately. Sometimes hours later, like after a rather persistent inner voice kept tugging on the sleeve of your attention to say, “Dude, Bruh, Hey, Yo,” relentlessly, until you listened.

You allowed your heart to care, and to continue caring.

In 2024, I wish you all of this again, and better.

A plethora of blessings on you and on your new year to come. And throughout the easy and throughout the hard, with love, I will always be Cheering. You. On.