week 41
I have been struggling to keep up with this blog, and have been blaming exhaustion and “business” for it. Those are partial factors, no doubt, but I am noticing a pattern that when I get close to sharing something personal, there is an underlying fear that I may not even see, and suddenly schedules and other tasks and sleeping and resting from exhaustion jump out and beg to be the focus.
I went to bed feeling a little guilty about my late blog posts, and consoled myself by thinking that it didn’t really matter, no one really reads it anyway. And that thought kind of hurt, not because I need people to read it but because the words “what I write doesn’t matter” hurts. And then I thought of what I’ve heard Martha Beck or Byron Katie say: it hurts if it is untrue. So I tried to push the thought away, and say that yes, what I write matters but it doesn’t matter to anyone except myself, though it didn’t quite feel true either. And then I couldn’t sleep much last night, and I kept rolling over thinking that there was something I need to express before I could fully rest. So I got up at 4 am, and wrote my two-way letter to love (thank you, Liz Gilbert):
Dear Love,
What would you have me know today?
Oh, dear Rachel:
You are in pain, and terrified, and those things are so hard to feel that rage surfaces as a life preserver. You cling to that preserver so you don’t feel like you’re drowning in grief. I understand this. I just want you to realize there are two sides to that preserver: there’s the self-righteous rage, and then there’s the righteous rage. The self-righteous rage asks “why me?” And “why me over her? I don’t deserve this.”
The righteous rage, on the other hand, asks “how can I use this?” Rachel, right now, it’s easy to fabricate the lie that what you write doesn’t matter. But that hurts you. The reason that it hurts you is that it isn’t true. What you write is powerful, and can be used for good in the world. It can offer solace, a new perspective, an idea that plants many seeds in others’ hearts. But I think this righteous rage is the key at the moment. Because it is powerfully calling on you to be brave. It is time to share your story, and share it in a way that moves others to action.
You will not truly know if it moves people or how many people it reaches. You may wonder at moments if it was worth it. But, you will feel lighter writing and lighter sharing your truth, and will be able to rest and be in peace that you have done everything you could to help in this cycle. You will find the peace you need to be able to carry on with being able to use your righteous rage for healing and as a powerful force for good, rather than being consumed by it.
And you may sometimes still ask “why me?” And that’s okay. I will tell you why you: you are sensitive to the world’s whispers. You hear them when the world says “you are not enough.” But you’ve never for a second believed them. You’ve always, deep down, believed in you. You’re strong like that, and right. It takes someone like you to have the kind of sensitivity and strength and desire to keep growing and the desire to do good. Now, I want you to do the scariest thing of all: believe that what you have to say and your actions make a powerful difference. It is terrifying, I know. It is so terrifying and I just want to wrap you up in a cozy blanket and tell you it’s going to be okay. And I will, and it will be okay. But I am also going to nudge you to do the scary, brave thing and share your heart with the world. You can do it. Small, brisk steps.
Write your story and share it. Then share it again. Then share it again. I know you can do this and I know it will bring you more peace than it will take away from you. And then I will take you and wrap you in a blanket and let you finally rest. I love you always.
So this is my attempt at writing and sharing something personal, in the hopes that it can shift one person’s perspective or move one person to take action: https://docs.google.com/document/d/10vZDJpJX4W6UogKEt_g7eSxg_oCXYBoC_-ikQe2LSbM/edit