Messy

We are each a stew of what’s come before. Our joys, our wounds, our lessons, our healing. We carry it all in a package called ‘human’. A unique recipe of our own experience with traces of the lives of our parents and theirs, we are, each and every one, a melting pot, no two exactly the same. Given eyes as windows, a mouth as a microphone, a body that dances or quivers or melts, all means of conveyance of what is within, what it is to be human.

The trick is this, remembering the complicated mess that we humans are. Remembering that any action, any comment, any word may have bubbled up from the stew, reflecting a deeper story beyond the conversation at hand. Listening, hearing, understanding the deep well, or at least recognizing its presence is the gift we can offer one another. It does not mean we must absorb the painful comment, the well-positioned jab, and add it to our recipe. But we can recognize the depths in one another.

So cheers to the beautiful messes we are. Wonderfully and remarkably made. Let us hold one another and our deep stories tenderly. Let us soothe our own hearts knowing that not even we can see all of what is within ourselves.