Perfect Imperfections…
Mark Nepo, poet, and spiritual thought leader, called out to me this week with the following words:
“Not feeling puts me on the sidelines, makes the world black and white, and me, a dry shade of gray. Only feeling keeps me in the scene, keeps the colors wet.”
A friend queried me about my weekly writings. She wondered if the sharing of my feelings and daily struggles had me stuck in the past, held by my wounds, not by what lies ahead. Bravely, she asked if I could let go of the things that hurt and shaped me and embrace all that could be ahead of me. I found this wonderful food for thought during my daily, early contemplation time where the darkness is illumined only by the light of the moon. In the silence of the hour, alone with my thoughts, I chose to prefer living, feeling, and keeping my colors wet.
I do not feel that I am stuck in the past; however, the past has impacted my neurobiology and the way I respond to the world. For those of you that have been touched by adversity in any form, do you feel stuck in the past or shaped by the past? I would love to have this conversation go further. Write me some comments to this post or on the finding.org website, or send me an email at [email protected]. I promise I will answer.
American monastic and writer, Thomas Merton claimed that “There is in all visible things … a hidden wholeness.”
I love that. I have often said I am more than the things that happened to me. They were just events. They are in the past. I have forgiven those that hurt me in any way. The wounds are healed. I have a hidden wholeness that sustains me always; even, and especially, when I am struggling.
Just like the trees that were devastated last year by an unexpected ice storm and the area reflected a shattered battleground, those trees fought their way to renewal depending on the inherent wholeness in each one of them. Was it easy? Is it easy? I would guess “no,” but they did not give up. They pushed forward finding warmth, finding water, feeling the love being extended to them through their pain. The collective love being whispered into the wind brought them back to life.
But, admittedly, back in our human world—where we are less self-revealing than oak and cedar trees—Thomas Merton’s words can, at times, sound like wishful thinking. Laying our feelings bare, like Mark Nepo suggests, can be more daunting than wishing for a collective whisper of love available to heal us.
Exposing who we are deep down, with all our imperfections illumined by the stage lights, risks our feeling of safety. That feeling that keeps us in the arena and not on the sidelines. We can become afraid that our inner light will be extinguished or our inner darkness exposed. We can hide our true identities from each other., but then we end up living divided lives, so far removed from the truth we hold within that we cannot know the integrity that comes from being what and who we are.
But pause and breathe in American author and educator, Parker Palmer’s words on wholeness:
“Wholeness does not mean perfection: it means embracing brokenness as an integral part of life. Knowing this gives me hope that human wholeness—mine, yours, ours—need not be a utopian dream, if we can use devastation as a seedbed for new life.”
This gives me hope.
So, again, I’d rather keep my colors wet.
This past week, another friend felt compelled to tickle at my heart by texting me “We are divine beings living a not-very-easy physical life”… reminding me how important it is “to love ourselves and all our frailties. We do not always choose love over fear, but what is important is that we strive to do it, even when we fall short.”
“Be kind to yourself,” she said.
And, so, today I embrace my imperfections. I embrace those things that make me me. I embrace the parts of me that may look like everyone else but seem to respond differently than others. The broken parts and those that shine gloriously. Yes, it is hard to choose want I want off a restaurant menu, to lead a lane, to decide what to wear, to drive down the highway, attend a party, or socialize for extended periods of time. But that is me TODAY. Perfect and beautiful in all my imperfections.
By keeping my colors wet, I can love myself, all my frailties, and all that the future holds brightly. Can you?
I leave you with this thought from Irish poet and priest John O’Donohue:
“Let there be an opening into the quiet that lies beneath the chaos, where you find the peace you did not think possible, and see what shimmers within the storm.”
Until next time, friends.
