Whether or not you are a Sacred Rebel of Expression, there is so much we can learn from them. These souls are all about being seen, heard, and honored for who they are. Their example teaches us to speak up for our truths, show up for ourselves, and be a witness for both self and community when it comes to expression and recognition.
I heart you Blues (the color of their soul skin) so, so much!!!! Your superpower reminds all of us that we and our voices matter.
And it was because of my work watching and guiding these rebels that I was blessed with the following experience.
*****
Photo by Meagan Smith Photography
I’d originally signed up for her visioning photo shoot to capture the feelings I wanted for my future–hope, brightness, success, expansion. But as the date drew nearer, both my body and soul said they wanted something else.
“Can you capture my grief?” I asked her. “I feel like my grief wants to be heard.”
“Interesting you say that,” she replied. “I was feeling the exact same thing.”
And so we planned my photo shoot. We traded out glam makeup and fancy clothes for a bare face and simple tank. Instead of painting with joy, we would play with the shadows of hurt.
So play in the shadows we did. I am still so impressed with how she silently allowed me to sit in the hurt–honoring my pain and capturing my heartbreak without rushing in to judge it, fix it, solve it, hide it, or change it.
Just the quiet click of the camera as I cried for…
…The children I’d never have.
…The businesses that didn’t work.
…The friendships that couldn’t survive.
…The unkindness that never stops from people who seek to be heard but never understand.
…The nightmares brought by trauma.
…And now the letting go of a writing community I worked so hard to build.
“All my creations, dying before they are even born.” Sobs racked my body as snot dripped long and ugly from my face. “Miscarriage after miscarriage. I am infertile in every aspect. A barren creator in all facets of my life.”
Sob.
Click.
Cry.
Click.
My howls were a wounded animal.
Click.
“I try so hard. I give everything I have. Even while I’m falling apart. Even while the PTSD is raging battles inside me. Even while my tummy is vomiting everything I eat. Even while my body is begging for 12+ hours of sleep so I can make it through a couple hours of giving in a day… I still show up for them. I still have to be strong. I still am giving more than I have and none of it feels like enough.”
She stopped and set her camera down.
“That, Deb, is motherhood.”
Click.
My grief was heard.
*****
What emotion/hurt needs your witness? Where in your life do you need to be heard?
Loves & hugs,
