Often, I find myself here, in this space, gazing at a blank page, halted in the search for words that can captivate, empower, or stir the reader. Even before I begin, I feel the weight of expectations on the conclusion, the outcome, the final piece. I once read that there's a misleading sense of certainty (of knowing)when we don't try. By opting not to write, by opting to stay stuck, I inadvertently know the result, the ending, the completed work. This dilemma of desiring certainty leaves no room for discovery. This desire to foresee outcomes extends deeply into our lives and the choices we make about which experiences to welcome or turn away from.
It raises an important question:
To what extent do you reject things because they feel unfamiliar? Too uncertain? Too unknown? And how much are you restricting your experiences to stay within the confines of your comfort zone?
I often ponder this, drawing on a few metaphors imparted to me by a wise mentor:
When counseling couples, he often shared the image of sitting on the porch with your spouse at 80, gazing out at your front yard, sipping lemonade, and reminiscing about the life you've built together. The couples who reach this milestone aren't those who have navigated life or marriage without conflict, disagreements, or moments of doubt. Rather, it's the couples who have faced and worked through these challenges, the tough times, and the uncertainties of different experiences that eventually find themselves on that porch. This idea connects directly to his next metaphor, the one about the garden.
He began by asking me to imagine a vibrant garden teeming with life, lush greenery, and a bounty of fruits and blooms. To cultivate such a garden, he stressed the vital role of the soil and the nutrients necessary for nurturing its growth. Being a gardener himself, he emphasized the transformative power of compost and manure in achieving the abundant growth he sought.
This extends directly to life itself. It's through our experiences, challenges, and the hardships we endure—the metaphorical "manure" of our lives—that we undergo personal growth and evolve into the individuals we are destined to become. While knowledge and understanding offer comfort, it is our lived experiences that foster courage, build confidence, and deepen our self-awareness.
I wonder what manure you have experienced lately that when viewed with the right lens, allows for greater nourishment? Initially, experiences may feel like setbacks, but when viewed through a different lens, they can become opportunities for personal growth and resilience. It's a reminder that growth often requires stepping beyond the familiar and embracing the uncertainties that come with exploring new paths.
This week,
May you sit in any lingering suffering, long enough to cultivate meaning before rushing to resolve it.
May you pour into yourself the way that you pour into others.
May you remain committed to finding hope and joy in places where pain has once grown.
May you take the time to remain in your own shoes, allowing yourself to fully feel and experience your world, your emotions, and your needs.
May you cultivate trust in your ability to make decisions that foster deeper learning, understanding, and purpose, even when those decisions do not yield your expected outcomes.
May you acknowledge that joy and sadness can exist simultaneously, understanding that the absence of one would diminish our understanding of the other.
May you have the courage to start, without focusing or worrying about the outcome or end.
Until next time,
Aimee Strange LPCC 14132