tears are welling up over here as i sit on this red couch of mine. i don’t want to be dramatic, but i don’t want to be untruthful either. so dramatic it is. you’ll have to bear with me…i’ll start from the beginning.
i arrived at our love bomber retreat completely exhausted, like a small girl losing her footing on the quickening hamster wheel of her life. this keeping up with the busyness while dispassionately mining the details for heart and hope had left me feeling squarely disconnected, wondering when i would finally crack open and feel my life again.
then i arrived in manzanita, oregon with jen lemen (a small coastal town that holds meaning for both of us). as we waited for all the love bombers to arrive at our ocean side cabin, we held hands and blessed the space with our eyes squeezed shut. we hid colorful hope notes all over the place for our friends and for ourselves to discover later. we bundled fresh lavender and gigantic sunflowers into vases. we asked for kindness to unfold gently, that it would show us the way. we set our artful gifts atop the fireplace and all around, placed fresh oregon fruit onto the coffee table, and spoke extensively about love and how it mysteriously arrives in our lives exactly as it should. we also talked about wanting to invite being seen at this retreat, that this was something i in particular needed. deeps stuff. light stuff. we were tending to our friendship and preparing for the days ahead. jen often declares this is good. and it was. we were ready.
and then they arrived. all 11 of them. and it was magic. and smiles. and deep, deep warmth. and instant connection and conversation. i had no idea that it would be like this. that i would, over the course of a couple of days, receive exactly what i needed and be seen in ways that were profoundly transformative for me. that these women, without even trying to do it, would collectively mirror back to me the best parts of myself, and that i would see those parts clearly for the first time maybe ever, and that it would feel like falling in love. it’s hard to capture here in this paragraph exactly what i’m trying to say but i suppose it is this: these women gifted me sight. sight into my power and hope and brokenness and even my bigness, especially my bigness. there i was, in the cracks, in the wide open spaces, in their hearts and in mine…deeply seen. it is something i wish for every dear heart on the planet to feel. because it is a gift we all deserve to have.
of course in the next breath, i am just about peeing my pants with laughter over wigs and bonfires and new dance moves and booty shaking. all of our soul parts were tended to, even our sillyness.
i still have so much to say and to share. i hope you will stick it out with me, daily stories and all.