It’s not Pretty, And it’s Soooo Beautiful

I just got back from a tantra retreat.  I went to the same(ish) event back in May of this year.  During that weekend, there were opportunities to process stuff.  I didn’t;  I was in an “I’m good, I’m happy, I got nuthin'” place.  I truly was.

This past weekend: different story.  I have been challenged lately by a number of current and upcoming transitions in my life.  And not feeling so good, physically or emotionally.  So when invited to share on Friday night, I got real right out of the gates.  And I continued to play full out all weekend.

On Saturday I was mostly a sniveling mess from mid-afternoon until bedtime.  I dealt with an issue that I thought I was all done with.  And, lo and behold, the stuff I’m going through now triggered that old issue.  Just when I thought I wouldn’t have to face that one again!  (How naive.  Is there really such thing as being 100% healed from anything?) Yet, sure enough, there it was.  And there I was saying yes to what wanted to happen- a big emotional release.

Except this time, rather than deal with it in my usual “I’ve got this, I’m independent, I’m strong” way, I did something atypical for me.  I asked for help.  I asked for support.  I asked for my peers to check in on me, to ask me how I was doing, and to offer to give me a hug.  I got a huge outpouring of love and support from that moment until literally the moment I left the retreat center on Sunday afternoon.  Sooo much love.  So lovely.

I woke up Sunday morning with swollen eyes.  When I cry a lot, that’s what happens.  And I mean really swollen, for the first hour or two.  I looked a bit like someone punched me in the eye.  And then they punched me in the other eye.  My first thought was: “Oh no, how am I going to show my face?”  And then I remembered that all I really had to do was just show up, like I had been doing all weekend.  I chose not to even comb my hair.  And I knew trying to put makeup on was only going to make things worse.  I dressed in the dowdiest outfit I’d brought.  It was a real come-as-you-are party, for me.

I became hyper-aware of all the ways that I have tried to be acceptable and lovable through my appearance and behavior.  And I let go of all of it.  When I got hot, I took one of my shirts off, even though my own opinion was that the shirt underneath was less flattering.  When I cried, I let the tears flow, complete with the snots running down to my pale, dry lips with the no-makeup on them.

And guess what?  No one ran away screaming.

By showing others who I really was all weekend, right down to the nitty gritty on Sunday, I became more accepting and loving of me, ALL of me, than I have ever felt before in my life.

And I know it works the same way for all of us.  You can be you.  You can speak your truth.  You can allow yourself to be vulnerable.  You can un-apologetically be 100% YOU, warts (or boogers, whatever the case may be) and all.  And still be loved.  And lovable.

Yes, it was not pretty at times this weekend.  There was screaming and crying and trepidation.  There were some hairs out of place.  Some people went out of their way for me.  One woman even picked up a bunch of my used tissues off the floor.  (Now that’s love.)

It was not pretty.  And it was sooooo beautiful.  I am so beautiful.  You are so beautiful.  Underneath it all, there is beauty.

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