HONOR THE TEARS THAT YOU CARRY

| isabel marant blouse | denim | image by sydney clawson |

I’ve been in a state of clarity recently. Not transcendental meditation or a 30 day cleanse kind of thing that I recently read on goop. No. Just, clarity. Real Clarity.  I don’t even know the exact words to explain it but it’s something. Something real. And honorary. And I think when we notice this moment of clarity, we need to speak up. Because even if I don’t know the exact meaning of transcendental meditation, I do know the exact meaning of transformation.

Clarity is a real thing. It heals people. It opens up the flood gates. And opening up those gates creates transformation. And clarity isn’t perfection by the way. It isn’t built on the top of a Buddhist temple in Tibet. It isn’t doused in Holy water at the Catholic Church and it for certain, is not the innocent purity of a baby being born. But it, clarity, is seeing yourself. All of you. And for better or for worse, that is something to see. Yeah Sigh. More on this later. I might need wine. And let it be known that this gateway to clarity is semi new to me. I’ve always thought that I was one to see it all so perfectly through the clearest most precise lens, because I take so many notes in my head upon every action that happens in my life. But it doesn't work that way. There is no perfection, or precise lens in life. And sometimes you go through something, whether it be a moment, or a year, or a sudden shift and bam. You are awake. Yesterday while listening to a podcast, I heard Jack Kornfield, one of the leading Buddhist teachers in America say,  “You must honor the tears that you carry. When they come, and you honor them, they wash you.”

Wow. Suddenly it was more clarity than I acknowledged. Not only am I human, but I’m not alone. 

Unfinished Business of the Heart

Life is hard. And beautiful. But let’s talk hard. Any of you out there realize that the older we get, the harder it gets? Not the job, or the children, or the daily mundane things, but life. The older we get, the more we discover. The more mileage we cover, the more we know. And the more we know, the more we discover that there’s unfinished business of the heart. My mother once said to me that life getting harder was all part of the plan. We age. We love. We grow families. The stakes get higher. And the time gets shorter. And along these discoveries, our heart awakens and forces us to tend to it. Nurture it. And sometimes it’s not all hugs and warm stuff. Sometimes there’s unfinished business of the heart. 

Holding Pain

This just in. There’s nothing brave about holding pain. Nothing. It is exactly that. It’s a hold. A strong hold if you will. Have you ever been in a strong hold? Holy shit. It doesn’t feel good. At all. It’s suffocating. Claustrophobic. It hurts. Holding pain sucks. Releasing it sucks too, but once it’s gone, it’s so much better. I think from the time that we are young toddlers we are taught to be strong and brave and be able to handle anything and everything with grace and guts. I admire that. But along the way, things happen. Like life. Life treats you a certain way. Sometimes it’s magnificent and glorious, and sometimes it’s not. Nobody walks through life through that perfect lens. There’s pain. For all of us. Maybe you lose a friend. Maybe a parent. Maybe a lover. Maybe you lose yourself. None of these things warrant the strong hold of pain. NONE. Each and every one of us individually have a path and a timeline to each of our stories. We are not all the same. But in truth, we are. Because we all know what love feels like and what pain feels like. And holding onto pain keeps us from clarity. From really seeing the clear path. The good stuff. The angelic beauty that surfaces after the storm. 

Clean Slate

After the storm, there’s always a rainbow. Perhaps that’s what I’ve always believed. Maybe because that’s what I’ve always seen. But as we grow and mature, although we gain more knowledge, sometimes we lose sight of the rainbow. Maybe we lose sight of the simple act of honoring ourselves. Our truth. And whether it be painful or not, if we choose to let it in and let it hurt, we also get to let it go. This is what I saw this week. And it hit me like a train. Feeling the pain and the tears come up and honoring them and releasing them with my full approval, washed me clean. I let go. I weeped and weeped until that river was dry. Sometimes we just need to weep. And once it all came down, I was free. I see now. I understand that those tears hold weight. They shouldn’t be crucified for their stature and volume. They should be honored. The unfinished business of the heart needs to be tended to. And once it has been, it has a new beat. 

More Compassion, More Kindness

I’m not a buddhist. I’m not in a state of meditation. But I am transformed. This isn’t new age shit I’m talking about. This is life stuff. The real stuff. Suddenly I realize that every journal I wrote as a teenager and a young adult was completely trivial. Not unimportant, but definitely not the true experience of understanding the human heart.  Accepting myself, my flaws, and my fears and knowing it’s ok to let go is clarity. And clarity creates compassion. A willingness to see things for what they are and accept them on the spot. A kinder heart, a more open heart and an ability to spread that awareness like wildfire.

I don’t know about you, and maybe I don’t even know you or what you’re doing or feeling right here right now, but I do know that you’re not alone. And that to me, is worth something.