Soul Breathing

Dear Folks,

I don’t call myself a writer because, well, a writer publishes multiple books and makes the New York’s Best Seller list at least once.  But me, I’m just over here in my quiet little corner, randomly attempting to wrangle elusive thoughts into concrete words. Writing is a method of survival for me.  It’s oxygen to my soul.  And like anything else that doesn’t get oxygen, my soul has been silently necrotizing over the last while because I haven’t been allowing it to breathe through writing.  I’ve been squelching the words.  Because sometimes writing seems to be more about bleeding onto the page than it is about breathing life into my soul.  Writing can be like the surgeon’s knife exposing the necrosis in my soul; knifing open the gangrenous wound and forcing me to allow healing into those parts of my soul.  But in the long run, the present pain promises more than the slow death of the soul by hypoxia.

I’ve been making excuses for why I haven’t been writing.  I blamed it on the demands of nursing school.  I blamed it on my increased need for sleep due to season change.  I blamed it on not being a good enough writer.  And the list could go on.  But truth be told, I wasn’t writing because I am scared of the pain, scared of the questions, scared of the hard that I find my soul wrestling with right now.  Brene Brown says “Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.”  I want to try this more intentionally.  Instead of hiding my gangrenous words when the soul is struggling in the hard, I want to let them flow. Let them find others who are struggling with the hard and let our souls heal each other through words.  Instead of cowering behind my wit, performance, pretense, and poise I want to let myself be seen for who I am in the here and now.

Choices are always being made, whether passively or actively.  If hereby, I choose to take the cop-out method and not write when the soul needs oxygen, I am choosing to be okay with mere survival.  But if I choose to bleed out the words that are squeezing out the life in my soul, I am choosing painful yet thriving survival.  We really were made to thrive.

We weren’t designed as asthmatic souls wheezing through life with just enough oxygen to fill a tiny space in the soul.  We were designed to gulp in life to the full and expand our souls through vulnerability and courage, truth and love, pain and growth.

That’s all folks.  I’m just telling you I want to show up more and let myself be seen.  However much it scares me, however much it makes me want to bury my head beneath the covers.  Here I am armed with mere words and soul breaths.

May we choose to soul-breathe deep together!

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