Tag: love

The Wind Beneath Your Own Wings

The Wind Beneath Your Own Wings

Who knew it was a butterfly moment.

An elementary school teacher friend of mine recently sent me a screen shot of a nine year old Facebook post. The unnamed subject in the post was one of my kids involved in some humorous banter about the naming of some beetles in a classroom project. A conversation unexpected from a kid of that age, but a conversation I was happy the kid felt comfortable to be a part of.

Teachers have a way of creating safe spaces for kids to participate, to feel seen, valued, and accepted. In that safe space, a child is free to shine a light only they can shine. And when they start to shine, they’re empowered to shine even brighter, fueled by the momentum of an ever-growing level of confidence.

The Butterfly Effect on full display.

As adults, finding our own safe spaces to shine becomes a bit of a challenge. Many family and organizational structures usually don’t make room for such spaces. Because, hey, we’re adults which implies there’s simply no need for the safe spaces we needed as children. 

We never outgrow a need for a safe space to shine.

The outside world is usually too busy to even notice us, let alone create a space where our most authentic self feels free to shine. Short of going back to third grade, the most reliable safe space is the one we create for ourselves.

It can feel quite daunting when you need to be the wind beneath your own wings, to create a safe space for you to shine when you’ve been conditioned to believe you’re the only reason why you’ve yet to fully do so. 

The butterfly imprisoned by the the weight of its own wings.

But those are the only wings that will set you free.

We need not wait for others to create a safe space for us to shine. We don’t need their permission to express our authentic energy and light. We need our own permission to do so. To start, to flutter, to allow ourselves to move forward at our own pace and shine in the way only we can shine. The more we are willing to move the more confident we will become in our movement. 

The more wind beneath our wings.

It took me the better part of a lifetime to allow myself to become a safe space for me to unfold more fully into me. To allow myself to trust me with me. To allow myself to be me, embraced with patience, kindness, and unconditional love.

Some lessons certainly take their time being learned.

Your safe space to shine is yours if you want it. 

You just need to be willing to start.

The Homes I Can Never Go Home To Again

The Homes I Can Never Go Home To Again

Ruben’s Atomic Chicken Fingers!

I unexpectedly found myself back in an area I briefly lived in about 30 years ago. A break in the meeting schedule and I was free to roam around for a few hours and I spontaneously decided to retrace some footsteps I had left three decades earlier.

Driving around brought me back mentally and emotionally. I even found a Spotify playlist of 1990’s alt-rock and grunge to bring me back even further. Salem to Nashua via Rte 111. Much was the same. Much was different. I knew I was different, much different than who I was back when I first traveled these roads those many years ago.

And then I remembered Ruben’s Atomic Chicken Fingers.

The more youthful me would find himself many a night belly to the bar at Shorty’s Mexican Roadhouse, never a need to review their rather extensive menu. I knew what I was there for, and the only question was for how many.

Lightly breaded, deep fried chicken fingers served with a sweet-yet-hot thick and sticky dipping sauce, the sweetness lowering your guard making it easy for the heat to find its way down the back of your throat. A cold beer at the ready and at that moment everything was perfect with the world.

I found my way into Shorty’s once again and at the same bar I excitedly ordered the same Atomic Chicken Fingers and I was ready to pick up where I had left off. But one bite in and I realized something had changed. 

And it wasn’t the chicken fingers.

I’d always heard you can’t go home again. I understood that to mean time inevitably changes what home had always been. What was simply no longer existed as it was. But at the bar, I realized the only thing that had changed was me. I couldn’t go back to what was because I was no longer who I was. It wasn’t the food. It wasn’t the bar. 

It was me. 

I outgrew the memories.

I was the reason why I couldn’t go “home” again.

There is a perceived comfort of going home again, even if home wasn’t a very comfortable place to be. But it’s familiar, predictable, and known which tempts us to want to relive and cling to and even slightly revise the narrative to accommodate what we may have wished home actually was. 

But you can’t really go back because you’re no longer who you were when you were originally there.

I appreciate all the homes I can never go home to again. The physical and the emotional. They were important parts of who I was, foundational building blocks of who I am. But who I will become? That needs me to allow myself to outgrow myself, to not let the lure of the certainty of the past prevent me from moving forward into the uncertainty of the future.

The past had its place, but it’s no place to live. It served its purpose, it was an important teacher, but holding on to our yesterdays weakens our grip on our tomorrows. 

When we create an emotionally clear space to grow, it’s likely we will do so.

Photo by Victor Bouton on Unsplash

Things Don’t Last Forever On Their Own

Things Don’t Last Forever On Their Own

I guess it was inevitable. But it didn’t have to be.

All of my life that barn was there. Until it wasn’t. A recent heavy wet snow proved too much for its weakened structure, slowly and consistently compromised by years of neglect to a point where it probably wasn’t worth the time and effort to save it.

Its demise seemed subtly unintentional. It was built to last, a solid foundation of granite supporting its timber frame posts and beams. It should have lasted forever. 

But things usually don’t last forever on their own.

The rubble of the now-fallen barn offered me a stark reminder that the majestic things we’ve built in our own lives need the consistency of regular maintenance and pro-active care if we want them to last. Friendships, relationships, our health, and our emotional well being may all be built upon solid foundations, but indifference and complacency will surely weaken their structure, rendering them vulnerable and exposed to the inevitable storms life brings upon us.

If it’s worth saving, know it’s not going to save itself.

Photo by Chris Riggs on Unsplash

The Peace Is Well Worth The Pain

The Peace Is Well Worth The Pain

“Art should provoke, disturb, arouse our emotions, expand our sympathies in directions we may not anticipate and may not even wish.” – Joyce Carol Oates

It’s one of my favorite photos.

And it annoys the hell out of me.

I took the photo a couple of years ago at a local park, an overhead view of a snow covered swing seat I noticed in the playground. It’s a black and white image creating a beautiful contrast between the whiteness of the snow and the darkness of the outline of the seat and the chains holding it up. It’s stark, it’s simple, yet each time I look at the photo I wish it was different than it was. The seat is slightly askew, and the two chains rising up from the seat stretching to the edge of the photo are annoyingly asymmetrical. 

Even though the photo is beautiful, I instead look beyond its beauty and focus on the flaws only I can see, leaving me provoked and disturbed in the process.

I’ve never had much success arguing with reality, but that doesn’t stop me from trying. 

Life gives us plenty of opportunities to argue with it, if we choose to, to be provoked and disturbed wishing people, situations, and circumstances were different and more aligned with Continue reading “The Peace Is Well Worth The Pain” →

How Deep Is Your Love?

How Deep Is Your Love?

I was told there’s nothing to see there.

Which is why I wanted to see it.

It’s 7:30 AM and right on schedule the ferry pulled away from the dock for the one hour ride to New Shoreham, a small island off the coast of Rhode Island. A booming summer tourist hotspot, the island is in full hibernation mode on this frigid December morning. Cold, isolated, and barren.

It’s exactly what I had hoped for.

I’m not sure when a ritual becomes a tradition, but for the past several years I select one day in late December to become somewhat invisible and inaccessible. A spiritual spa day of sorts, where I find myself in cold, isolated, and barren locations in coastal Massachusetts and Rhode Island wonderfully alone, embarking on long hikes in solitude where the only voice I hear is the one in my head. 

These days are important days. These are the days of reflection, release, realignment, and reconnection. This is a safe space for me to be honest with me about me. A kind and loving space where I allow myself to process and unpack the heaviness life sometimes throws upon your shoulders and your heart. In this space there is no agenda nor the pressure of needing to Continue reading “How Deep Is Your Love?” →

Creating A Safe Space For The Suck

Creating A Safe Space For The Suck

It’s a game I’ve played with myself. Or maybe it was more of a survival mechanism.

I’d always been a big fan of the present moment. Unless I didn’t like the present moment. Then I’d find another moment somewhere in the future to save me from the discomfort of the present one.

I got quite proficient at using desired future outcomes to try and outrun the emotional challenges I could often find myself dealing with. Someday took the pressure off today. Someday allowed me to defer my responsibility of dealing with what is until some time in the distant future. Reaching those desired outcomes would take care of everything, I repeatedly told myself.

And they never did.

I’ve run away enough to know that running away never gets you anywhere else other than where you already are.

Someday is full of those distant utopian promises which we allow to sustain us at the expense of Continue reading “Creating A Safe Space For The Suck” →

An Unexpected Expression Of Humanity

An Unexpected Expression Of Humanity

I’d forgotten what college tour season was like. But here we are meandering from school to school with student ambassadors walking us through their campuses enthusiastically pitching us as to why they feel their school is the ideal place to spend the next four years.

After these tours, the Standard Operating Procedure has been each school’s admission office sending out a generic “thanks for visiting our school” email and reminding us of key dates ahead in the application process. In our old fashioned US Postal Service mailbox, though, we received an unusual surprise.

A hand written personalized Thank You note from one of the student tour guides we had visited. It’s the only Thank You card we’ve received from any of them.

Certainly you don’t decide on a college based upon getting a card in the mail after a tour. But in receiving such a card, Devin the student tour guide differentiated himself from the other equally competent tour guides we’ve interacted with through this process. 

Devin’s note stirred up an inner conversation about gratitude and connection. The digital world of emails, texts, and faceless AI interfaces is cold and vastly impersonal especially when compared to the warmth and authenticity found in receiving something hand created specifically for you. Continue reading “An Unexpected Expression Of Humanity” →

The Energy Of Everything

The Energy Of Everything

Who knew pastrami could get so contentious?

Scrolling through a social media feed and there it was. A monster of a sandwich being showcased by a New York City deli. Pastrami stacked perhaps 6 inches high towering over the two little pieces of bread failing miserably in their attempt to hold the whole thing together.

I’m not a fan of pastrami, but the photo intrigued me and I found myself diving into the comments made on the post in hopes of learning more about this pastrami masterpiece.

What I learned was even a discussion about pastrami was not exempt from turning hostile.

Any discussion about any type of food is expected to be lively. We are all protectively territorial when it comes to defending our culinary turf. Here, though, the topic of conversation shifted away from the sandwich and devolved into personal attacks which went well beyond food.

Yet another reason for me to dislike pastrami.

What I really dislike is the hostility.

There is good money to be made leveraging hostility and division, especially on social media. Continue reading “The Energy Of Everything” →

Releasing The Grasp Of Perfection

Releasing The Grasp Of Perfection

It’s the invisible burden. Perfection. The need to live up to elevated standards set for us by others, and, at times, set by ourselves for ourselves. And even those standards which we set for ourselves are usually measured against some sort of societal yardstick of how we are “supposed” to be living our lives.

I’m sure we’ve all been caught up in the perfection vortex at some point in our lives. Where no matter what we do it’s never good enough. No matter how hard we try it’s still never enough. No matter how much we earn, how fit we are, what we drive, or what we’ve professionally achieved we can find ourselves consistently falling short of the utopian panacea of perfection.

There is a heaviness which comes from not being where we’ve been told we should be. That weight allows no room for self-compassion or grace. Because there is still more work to do.

There will always be more work to do.

Instead of being where I’m supposed to be, I’ve gotten much better at being where I am. Instead of being who I’m supposed to be, I’ve gotten much better at being who I am. 

It’s a different kind of perfection, allowing and accepting is. When you’re not beating yourself Continue reading “Releasing The Grasp Of Perfection” →