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

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

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” →

The Life Defining Decision

“Perhaps it’s an age thing?”

That was the unexpected response I received when I attempted to explain what could best be described as a life reset process I’ve found myself experiencing. Turning 60 a few years ago I’ve found myself re-evaluating my life priorities. What really matters? Who really matters? How I spend my time and who I spend my time with. Yes, maybe it was an “age thing”, but it served as a catalyst for me deciding to become far more aware and intentional about my life.

Sometimes the demands of family and work responsibilities don’t allow much time to live a more priority-driven life. But that big birthday felt like a wake up call of sorts, with life nudging me to re-evaluate just about every aspect of my life. Not because I had a bad life, but because I wanted to make sure the life I was living moving forward was aligned with the life I truly wanted to live.

As we age we strive to take better care of ourselves physically to ensure our mobility and flexibility. We exercise and we feed our bodies what it needs to be healthy. But how often do we give ourselves an inner check-up in order to better understand how to take better care of ourselves emotionally?

I’ve collected a great deal emotional baggage over the past six decades. The inevitable peaks and valleys of life have shaped me and influenced my life outlook and expectations. As I now move forward in life, much of my re-evaluation process involves looking more closely at those outlooks and expectations. If my past has the power to influence my future, shouldn’t I decide what from my past I want to take with me into my future?

My attitudes, mindsets, beliefs, and habits have all gotten me to where I am today. But are those Continue reading “The Life Defining Decision” →

The Freedom Of Possibility

It was one of the stupidest decisions I’ve ever made.

Driving home from a late night out in the big city with a few friends. In front of me was a wide open stretch of highway which for some unknown reason inspired me to wonder just how fast my car could actually go. Fueled by a potentially lethal combination of teenage invincibility and alcohol, I pressed the pedal as hard as I could just to see exactly how fast my ’73 Toyota could go.

My experiment was cut short by a rather unsettling noise coming from the rear tires. Apparently the high rate of speed I was traveling at created a great deal of heat causing the retreads on my tires to separate from the tires, which I discovered after stopping to see if I could find where the noise was coming from. I had no idea that was even possible until I held a piece of a tire in my hand. After that experience, I had no intention of ever finding out exactly how fast that car could go.

Things certainly could have easily turned out much differently.

This far more mature and long-sober version of me often ponders a different sort of experiment. What would the outcome be if I pushed myself to my limits. Like, if I gave life all I had to give, Continue reading “The Freedom Of Possibility” →

Finding Your Own Sacred Space To Be You

I didn’t intend it to turn out this way.

But I guess it did.

It’s late 2008 and I’m highly annoyed. The world inside me and around me full of frustration and negativity. At that stage of my life I was quite good at complaining, easily adding my highly opinionated voice to the “somebody should do something” chorus knowing that I would not be the one to try and actually do something to change anything.

But for some reason something told me I should try and do something. My lack of qualifications as a writer was offset with a passionate conviction to try and give positivity a little more visibility in the world.

Especially mine.

15 years ago – April 20, 2009 – I anxiously hit the “Publish” button for the first time and this blog went live. I offered my faint voice of optimism into an increasingly negative and hostile universe.

Posting uplifting quotes gradually lead to me to actually attempting to post original content, again, driven by a desire to add my own voice and share some positivity, hope, and optimism into the lives of those who visited the site. And while the goal was to write for others, writing eventually became something I needed to do for me.

Turns out I needed the same positivity, hope, and optimism I wanted to offer others.

Writing these posts over the years has served as a form of self-therapy. Often posts are birthed out of my attempts to deal with my own frustrations, confusion, and pain life at times creates for us all. The Continue reading “Finding Your Own Sacred Space To Be You” →

Popsicles And The Art Of Reclaiming Possibility

If there was a movie about that rather dark period of my life, the soundtrack would have to be filled with the music from the band Soul Asylum.

It’s the early 1990’s. I’m moving forward in life, fully transitioned into adulthood, taking a few small steps up a corporate ladder I felt compelled to try and climb. The facade of smiles and joviality, lubricated and enhanced with a steady supply of alcohol, diligently disguised the heaviness of doubt and uncertainty swirling within.

Cue Soul Asylum.

There was a relatable rawness in the lyrics of Soul Asylum’s music. Dave Pirner’s songs of emptiness, loss, longing, vulnerability, and frustration so perfectly captured exactly where I was at that time in my life. Eloquently composed, yet painfully accurate.

But it was his popsicles which always saved me.

Like the sun peeking through an ever gloomy and ominously cloudy sky, one lyrical reference always offered a faint source of light in the musical darkness. Each time I hear these words they always bring me back to a more innocent time in my life.

“Standing in the sun with a popsicle, everything is possible…”

I remembered back when life was a clean slate and everything felt possible. As a kid with the sun washing your youthful face and with a popsicle in your hand, life is a wide open highway ready to take you anywhere you want to go. Until life gradually shows up and experience and expectations turn that wide open highway into an unmarked and unpaved backroad endlessly circling back upon itself.

Life does have a way of ripping the popsicle out of your hand and wiping the smile off your now not-so-youthful face, doesn’t it?

Life does get busy. Life does get hard. Practicality often replacing possibility in the process.

Yet possibility always exists. In the light, in the darkness. In the flow, in the struggle. In the peace, and Continue reading “Popsicles And The Art Of Reclaiming Possibility” →

Peter Mis LivingHalfFull.com

Lessons From A Life Unfolding

Tag: writing