RETURN to NEED

It appears it’s time to find out if I actually believe all the things I’ve been telling myself.

The things about strength being beautifully interlaced with weakness, the idea that superwoman can and should have needs, the notion that we can be all-together amazing while being all-together a mess.

A broken body launched me on this path initially, a failed cervical disc that led to surgery and a substantial bit of self-realization. Under the weigh of pain I threw up my hands at the notion of being superwoman, so done with all the trying and all the doing.

Until I stepped back.

Until I looked at the women around me and at the woman in the mirror.  

These were lives lived in amazing fashion, full of compassion, love, giving oneself to others. Juggling, achieving, connecting, serving, the myriad of ‘to do’s’ that encompass a full life - all were on beautiful display. 

Superwoman is real, I realized, maybe she just needs to learn a different way.

Maybe she just needs to be reminded of her identity.

Maybe it’s not only the body that needs to heal, but the heart, as well.

And so I’ve spent the past year wandering down paths in my mind, gasping at the complex straws of a real and genuine life, embracing the truth that the core of who we are sits far beyond what we can do or accomplish. I’ve wrestled with the two-sided coins of life, searching to carve out a place in my heart where both extremes are welcomed without judgement.

Strength and weakness.

Success and failure.

Abundance and need.

Not one alone defines, instead all are given their space to live and breathe within the life of a genuine super woman.

At least this is where I hope the journey ends. 

But these days I’m feeling needy again, and I’m not enjoying a single moment of it.

The pain that led to my first surgery is returning, the body again screaming at the injustice of a compressed cervical nerve. It appears another part of my spine is failing and that neck trauma from a car accident at the sweet age of 16 really is a big deal when you fast forward a few decades. 

While I don’t know where this path toward physical healing will lead, I can see the direction of the path toward healing my heart. Right now I feel weak, I feel needy, I feel the weight of my body’s failure. I do not like these sides of the coin, but I’m asking myself…can I hold them without shame? 

Can they be given room to breathe, without threatening to steal my identity?

I’m seeing moments of progress. The sweet husband who asked if I wanted him to come along as I met with my surgeon? I actually told him yes. In the moment it didn’t feel like the ‘strong’ thing to do, but I can tell you that it was real. 

And now I see that perhaps that is where strength is truly found, in the willingness to embrace an honest life, in the setting aside of all the ways we think we should ‘appear’ to risk showing up simply as we are. 

The brave ones allow themselves to be seen. 

These days I’m trying to be brave.