Deeper and Truer
The inauguration is taking place. I am not watching. Instead, I am writing. To be writing again feels like my own tiny act of defiance. A crossing of sorts into a search of clarity and meaning in a world that feels a little topsy-turvy these days.
Don’t worry. There’s a time for protest. AND this is not a protest post. No disrespect towards the Office of the President intended. I’m just a happier person sitting outside writing while four year old neighbor friends buzz around me. It’s beautiful outside today. I hope you are outside today, too, friend. There is nothing on television you are obligated to watch. I hope you know that.
A few weeks ago a friend reached out to me and asked me to be her writing accountability partner. The language used initially was writing “group”, but I am not sure if you can call two people a “group”. Whatever we are, we are showing up and THAT is all the important things.
I am so thankful when God decides it is high time to use someone to call us back to ourselves.
We met this past Tuesday night after I finished teaching class. We found a table at a nearby coffee shop and settled in for our first writing powwow.
Very little writing was done.
(Read as “NO writing was done”.)
We told stories and asked questions and laughed until we cried. Too loud. I am pretty sure I talked too loud, laughed too loud, and took up too much of the air space in the room.
Those two hours of taking up space have a name: healing.
At the end we decided that we probably should set some writing goals, which we WROTE down so I guess SOME writing was done.
Along with a couple of other things, we decided to start with poetry. I will be honest. This goal…totally HER idea, by the way…scares to me to death. Like any good angsty adolescent I wrote my share of poetry on my road to finding myself, but poetry demands compensation by way of currency more common in my teens and twenties: vulnerability and transparency. What does it mean that I find the idea of writing poetry now terrifying? I was startled by my terror.
My friend sent her first poem to me last night and as I read it I felt like I was tracking across holy ground carrying the weight of something precious. Indeed. I was seeing her.
And, that’s what I want for you, sweet friend…and for me and for us during this topsy-turvy time. I want to see and be in ways truer than ever before.
I hope and pray and trust that the disorientation of this season will drive you deeper and truer.
I hope and pray and trust that you will engage in all the things that help you encounter your own soul and that this soul pilgrimage…as hard and scary and weighty and exhausting as it is and surely will be…I hope it will land you HOME.
I am a little unsettled with the words “resistance” and “defiance” being used these days. In full disclosure, I hope your acts of resistance and defiance don’t rob you of the disorientation. Disorientation is a birthing room. Walking the path of disorientation is what leads us to a necessary and needed new orientation and new life.
We so need that new life.
So, resist and defy what surely needs resisting and defying…but not the disorientation. Choose THAT path, friend. Walk THAT way.
I hope and pray and trust that you will find yourself living courageously creative as you carve out your way that is deeper and truer with things like writing (poetry even!), painting, praying (surely a faith act of courageous creativity), loving, speaking, touching, initiating…taking up SPACE.
Without fear. With love. With courage. With EACH. STEP.
Walk THAT way. Take THAT path.
I need you to do this scary thing, sweet friend. I need you to carve out your space. Because when you do…when you send a poem you wrote to me, when you share a piece of you, when you decide your journey home is worth it, when you take up space in this world…it gives me permission to keep taking steps on mine. Maybe I don’t NEED…or shouldn’t NEED… that permission…but I certainly need that companionship. When you carve out space for yourself you end up making room for me…and others…too.
And, to be honest, writing this first blog post in a LONG while is scary, too. We change over time, you know? And living courageously creative always means choosing to courageously face YOU…over and over and over again.
Engage the disorientation. Walk THAT way. Take THAT path.
Deeper and truer, sweet friend. Take off your shoes and walk your holy ground.
***Several of my previous posts were lost when wordpress updated. Some of you have asked about their disappearance. I will work to get them back up over the next few weeks.