ALL THE LIGHT WITHIN

Upon purchasing my first car, a 62 VW convertible, I promptly blew up the engine.

I knew nothing about cars except that there was very little more satisfying than taking the little rag top down and timing my music with the pop of the three-speed transmission. It turns out, that little red light should never be ignored, even if the tires are turning, even when the engine still runs.

There are things right in front of us, within us, that we refuse to examine or fail to see. Seemingly little things. But essential to the healthy function of every other on-board system.

I heard it said, recently, that one should never aggravate the problem. We have become so good at picking at what troubles us until everyone involved is bloodied and bruised. But aggravating and ignoring are equally harmful. There must be something important we’re missing in between.

Making the assumption that all is well, because most is well, can have devastating consequences.

There have been times when I’ve been overwhelmed in my life. Cancer, absolutely.  But what I am speaking of is more constant and lingering, this underlying feeling that something I’m not paying attention to isn’t right. That little red light. 

It’s not that we aggravate the problem as much as that we aren’t even aware of what the problem is. We ignore the nagging impulse that tells us to pay attention.

Pay attention. I’m not speaking about what’s happening in the world but what’s going on within. Right in front of us is the control we crave when everything else is spinning. This day will require all of who we are. Are you bringing every piece of you to the exchange?

Being absolutely, unashamedly present in the moment requires knowing precisely who you are—not only the parts that make us terribly proud, but the pieces of us that we hide from the light. Over time, the body appropriates the majority of its resources to suppress what we have deemed “disagreeable” about ourselves. As a result, every other admirable thing about us begins to diminish and break down.

I think those who are habitually demanding of others are missing pieces of themselves. There is this insatiable “wanting” that no possession, relationship, or circumstance can tame.

That language of demand has become costly to the world. Our words are tainted with an underlying manipulation of “getting something out of it” that prohibits pure, human exchange.

Think about the last time you talked to God. Did you ask for something or did you simply bare your soul? In the honest moments of conversation and confession, we are stripped of the chronic seeking, and we begin to see ourselves through a Magnified lens.

When did I start being so harsh with judgement of myself?
When did I begin to absorb the opinions of others and allow them to mold who I am?
When did I begin to underestimate my weaknesses instead of leveraging them as strengths?

There is power in reclaiming the parts of me I have hidden from the light—
To let go of the idea of falling short of who I think I should be.
To make friends with the parts of me that are different from or unfamiliar to my tribe.
To examine each imperfection to determine if it has a useful side.  

We are liberated when we are no longer willing to drive in the fog. Willful blindness is a malady that we choose. It carves off pieces of our whole and leaves us unable to fully express, fully contribute, fully live.  

There is something supernatural about being vulnerable with ourselves—
It gives permission to let go of the beach ball we’ve been struggling to push down.
It allows tension to rise to the surface and dissipate.
It diffuses the internal conflict and re-establishes purpose.
It honors the need to be seen and respected for exactly who we are.

Vulnerability rather than manipulation. What does that even look like?

It means admitting I don’t have all the answers, celebrating I’m not the smartest person in the room, marveling at hearing someone else come up with the best idea, considering I could be wrong, saying “I’m sorry,” sitting quietly and asking someone to tell me more.

Whole-ness is not the knowing of everything. It is embracing the prospect of our endless, bottomless humanity.

What if what we have lost as a society is something we have within us to find?
What if we prohibit our language from being so judgmental with ourselves?
What if we make peace with the parts within us that we deem so unlovely?
What if we begin by forgiving ourselves?
What if we decide what is within us, is within us for every circumstance?
What if we discover what we like about ourselves even and through our gloomiest hour?
What if we cultivate and re-frame our weaknesses to become our greatest strengths when the hard moment arrives?
What if our willingness to examine our own manipulations compels those within our circle to do the same?
What if the willingness to look at our shadows compels others to pay attention to the light?

What if what we wrestle with about ourselves was designed for a moment that has not yet been revealed?

It’s extraordinary to imagine personal wholeness as a strategy to navigate what we’re living through and what’s ahead.

Be swift, therefore, in exacting necessary change that empowers all of you to engage—
Unfiltered. Unapologetic, Unrehearsed.
Without fear of consequence,
Or expectation of reward.

When you know who you are, when you’re unafraid of what you lack, or unthreatened by your innate power, then you change the world.