I’m here and I’m talking about pasta and salmon and sun dried tomatoes, but I think I’m working up to something. Maybe something important, or at least something bigger than this. I’d like to think so anyway.
What I do know for sure is that I’ve got things to say and things to do and I am plagued by this distinct yet distant siren call that tells me I have work that’s all my own. But every time I start towards those voices promising more, I run up against walls on every side. It’s time or money or fear or uncertainty or the laundry or the baby crying or something, there’s always something. Steven Pressfield dubbed it “The Resistance” and yes, I think it’s sitting on my chest.
I am so drawn to the people who are brave enough to tell their stories, to expose their darkness and their light. Glennon Doyle and Debbie Ford and Anne Lamott and Natalie Goldberg and Bethany Bassett and all the brave people who give voices to their lives and experiences and perspective.
The truth is, the people in my life who have hurt me the most are the people who didn’t want to tell the truth about anything. And I’m sure my own silence has done its own damage too. Everybody is at least a little bit broken but the most dangerous people are the ones who insist on covering it all up.
There was a time when I would have insisted on propriety. Not too long ago there was a woman at church who had a tendency to stand up during a testimony meeting and share personal details and trials that would make me so uncomfortable I would have to leave the room. Doesn’t she know you don’t have to share everything, I wondered. Some things should remain private, I thought.
More recently though, I am recognizing that there is great freedom in opening up, in being vulnerable. Isn’t it almost always secrets and deceits that destroy relationships of every kind? Maybe you don’t have to tell everyone everything, but I know that being really honest always does less damage in the end.
If we empty our hearts every night, they won’t get too heavy or cluttered. Our hearts will stay light and open with lot’s of room for good new things to come. Glennon Doyle Melton
So it’s January and this is the year that I’m going to be brave.
Today I’m still talking about tomatoes and spinach and pasta. But as I’m draining the pappardelle and breathing in the hot steam rushing at me, as I’m slicing lemons for a wedge of brightness on a gray day, as I’m savoring the incredible flavor of a sun dried tomato in the winter, I’m really getting ready for something bigger.
P.S. This is just as delicious without the salmon.