burnt orange + chocolate brown
busy morning traffic, bicycles and walkers hurrying
morning sun filtering it's light through the window
changing leaves of fall.
busy voices--working, socializing
the buzz and whir of the cappuccino machine
delightful laughter and giggles of the little girl across the way
the crunch of ice in my daughter's cup
faint music drowned out by voices.
bitterness of roasted coffee beans
heat coming through the window
freshness of the shampoo in my hair
sugary bakery goods.
fall--cinnamon, nutmeg + pumpkin
bliss in my cup of tea.
softeness of the sweater against my skin
the silver chain around my neck that reminds me of friendship and brilliant colors of life
warmth of sunshine comforting both body and soul
slight tension in my heart
breath moving steadily through my body.
Today, I ran across Jen Lemen's brilliant post about what happens when you keep your truth hidden. Jen's words are so true. I know because I, like many of us, spent a lot of years with my truth in hiding and have experienced every one of the things on Jen's list. I've spent the last few years deliberately practicing my truth (or getting in touch with my truth) and practicing being open and being seen. I'm one of the slow learners. Things can take me a while and do and that's OK. Being seen can be incredibly terrifying. The most important thing is that we face our fears, not that we be fast at it. And if we push too hard before we are really ready, it's counterproductive. What I've discovered is this:
Peeling back each layer of fear brings me closer to the truth of who I am and what I am really about, I start to see and see more clearly. I have started to feel a relief, an acceptance of myself as I really am.
Feeling all the pain that kept me hiding in the first place is scary and difficult, but as I continue to feel it, be honest about what I feel, what is important to me and what I really want for my life, it is gradually replaced by an embracing: of my truth, my story, myself.
I've also come to realize that we all have this experience of wanting hide our true selves and opt for a manufactured self, one that is better, more acceptable. Where I thought I was alone, I was really just like everyone else. Where I was trying to be like everyone else and blend in, I made myself feel the most alone.