Lowercase "t" truth: If you weren't having this hard experience, you wouldn't be growing.
Think about it. The seasons in your life, where you felt the most brittle. The most desperate. The most longing. The most suffering. The most hopeless. What happened to you then? And what is happening to, or more accurately, in, you now? What is this like? What are you now in touch with...what feels most new or strange or disquieting or beautiful? Maybe you are still in a particularly difficult or despairing season, engulfed in something that feels too overpowering. Perhaps you've been in this space for what feels like your whole life, the ebb and flow of challenge. A friend told me some time ago, during a time when I was not ready to hear it, "Look, if you always got what you wanted, life wouldn't be very meaningful." I notice myself still feeling my way into this concept. What kinds of truths or wisdom hold you when caught up in the noisy weight of a past marked by absence, by grief, by injury - hurling you into the powerful undertow of darkness, of fear, of aloneness, of shame. The malady of paralysis. Of stuckness. Of not being able to move even though every part of you screams: "move." But it's not that easy. Moving. Becoming un-stuck. Wanting to burst from the chrysalis of things that have grown around us, like a thick coat of amber sap, holding us down. The cumbersomeness of gravity. And you go on like this, caterpillar like, until you are through with your caterpillarness. How will you make it through? What does "making it through" even look like? How do you bracket your limited vision for what getting through could be? Why get through something that is growing you? The mud of suffering that grows the lotus of you? To the hard that rests, calcified-like, in your bones: Do you touch it? Do you allow for it to be touched? How does it touch you? Are you open(ing) to the feeling of it? To its swishing current? Its life-giving energy? To how it holds you, giving you ground to stand firmly on? Or are you at war with it? Are you hiding from it with abstraction? Are you numbing against the splash of it? What is that like? I hold a warm and soft curiosity there. Here. Exactly where you are. Will you let yourself be found there? In all of that beautiful matter?