As part of a trauma and resilience event I spoke at yesterday, we did an activity where the presenter asked someone at our table to recount something hard they've been through while the rest of us reflected on signs of resilience in the story.
I happened to be sitting at a table with my friend Dominick. He told the story of losing his baby last year. As I listened to him, I thought, there was a day, a day not even so long ago, when I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere near his story. A story heartbreaking and unimaginably difficult. Listening to someone else's unimaginably difficult stories always felt like a threat to my own hard stories. And my goal in life, even if mostly subconscious, was to make sure no one ever got near my hard stories. But as hard as Dominick's story was to hear, mainly because I can imagine how hard that loss and aftermath continues to be on him, something felt beautiful about sitting in that space. A beauty I never in my life could have seen coming. One of the early speakers yesterday spoke frequently about this idea of natural love. She was speaking in terms of how natural it is for a mother to show up to love her child. A natural love this speaker sadly didn't receive. Her point was, though, that it is very unnatural to inflict pain on someone, or to not show up for them when they are in pain. Our human nature is designed such that we naturally show up for one another. It is our inherited instinct. Especially when it comes to meeting each other in hard places. Our humanity, both personally and relationally, gets very complicated when we go against that nature. It gets complicated when we start burying our hard stuff and constantly fighting against our natural instincts to share it. Listening to a friend talk about the hardest moment of his life isn't a place I'd put on a list of places to visit for pleasure today, but it felt like a very natural place to be for a few moments yesterday. It felt healthy and healing and assuring. Not for my friend, although I'm sure it was for him as well, but for me. You can't listen to someone else's hard stories without taking at least a brief visit back to some of your own. The lovely woman at the table with us said, I wouldn't have had enough time to tell the hard story I was thinking of. My mind certainly drifted to divorce and the distance that's created in my relationship with my children. But there my friend Dominick was, playing a big part in hosting a resilience conference in his community. There I was, speaking at it. There our lovely friend Naomi was, spending the day voluntarily participating in it to learn more about resilience and how to spread it in her community. There all three of us were; resilient. Leaning into our natural instincts to love in the way we were created to love. Showing up. Together. I was reminded yesterday at our table that part of resilience is being able to visit the hard stories of our past without moving back in there. Without taking up residence in places that often haunt us from behind. Visiting the hard stories of our past is a great thing to do as a reminder of how far we've come. The hard stories of our past is a great place to be reminded that we've overcome those stories together, by naturally showing up for one another and letting our loving instincts bond us in the direction of a better future story. I had a nice visit with my past yesterday. I am grateful to be able to take visits like that I was once completely unable to take. But this morning, I live here in this beautiful place called today. I live here grateful to no longer be afraid of the stories of yesterday; thankful for how much clearer I see this moment as a result of my fearlessness toward past moments. A fearlessness that doesn't happen without following our natural instinct to show up for one another. Even if just for a visit.
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Robert "Keith" CartwrightI am a friend of God, a dad, a runner who never wins, but is always searching for beauty in the race. Archives
November 2024
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