Capture Your Grief · Grief · Healing · On My Heart · Relationships · Strength to Strength · Vulnerability

Painted Perfection

cropped-wpid-img_20150723_193319.jpg

I lived much of my life trying to be perfect.

I mean really really perfect. The perfect I had created as an attainable standard in my mind.

Perfection is a heavy load to bear. It’s a suffocating, crushing weight. And frankly, I’m not strong enough to carry it any more.

It actually takes incredible strength to lay that sucker down. It takes strength to say, “I’m not perfect. I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know how to fix this. I can’t do it all. I can’t keep up with this or that. I need help.” That my friends takes courage.

I was forced into laying down my perfection through grief and now physical injury. I had no choice but to let others help me, learn to say “no” or “not today”. I had to chose healing over perfection. “I can’t…” is a hard start way for me to start a sentence. “Can you help me?” is even harder.

But here I am a year and a half into this journey of grief, and I’m just done. I won’t do it anymore.

I won’t allow myself to live that way, and I won’t let you think I’ve got it all together.

I’m ready for deeper vulnerability because I’m ready for all that is born from it:

“Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.” – Brene Brown

And I’m ready for my life to become a more authentic reflection that offers hope, love and acceptance to others.

If we continue to sit inside a self-made bubble of painted perfection, only sharing with the world what is cleaned up and shiny, who will the broken ones come to when they ache, who will the grieving heart seek when they feel unknown, who will the battered and worn reach out to when they are at the bottom?

If we aren’t allowing them to see both the trials and the triumphs, we leave in our wake a sea of humanity crying out to feel known, but instead feeling very alone.

This is why I write. Not everyone will bare their soul quite as freely as I do with so many, and that’s not what I’m asking you to consider. What I’m asking you to consider is laying down perfection or even the illusion of perfection and allowing your vulnerability to reach out, offering life and hope and understanding.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s