We talked on retreat about writing naked.
With your clothes on.
About speaking your truth and letting it flow and allowing what wants to be written come forth.
And it felt scary to me. Still does. Do I have anything to say that matters? Can I trust what is in my heart to come to life in an understandable way? Will it land anywhere?
On retreat I was working on a manual for advocacy. And I’m still working on it. It’s inside me, I know. Just waiting to come to life, to birth in words. Here’s the introduction that I crafted on retreat:
“For my sisters:
We are sacred containers
We are bold and courageous
We are the mouth pieces to tell the tales that must be told
We are witnesses
And listening ears
We hold the space for others to heal
We are the bridge between two lifetimes
Filled with belly laughs, angry tears and sorrowful wails
We are fierce, sometimes cranky, always relentless
We have sisters and sons and partners and mamas
We ask the questions gently yet raise our voices loudly
We are fundraisers, coffeemakers and courtwatchers
We call for justice
We choose compassion over judgment every day
We hold for certain that peace is possible
We are the conduits of change
We see healing possibility everywhere—everywhere!
We are family, my advocate tribe”
I love this. It resonates with my heart and spirit.
And I’m hopeful that what is left to be written will be just as heartfelt, just as naked. Havi reminded us that we can befriend the struggle, the fear, the icky-ness, the not knowing, the feelings of anxiousness. We can sit with that part of ourselves and ask to hear the messages that need to be told in a way that we can hear. Isn’t that beautiful and comforting? So for today, I’ll take a deep breath. Trust that the words will unfold. Listen to my inner rumblings. Keep putting pen to paper. Maybe take a walk. Remember the women around me, both far and near.
And allow the yearning, the desire to come to life.