You may have seen that I’m doing a 10-day course on photography and vulnerability called Wide Open. I can’t tell you how much I’m enjoying the incredible images coming out of the experience. There is an absolutely overwhelming amount of creativity in this world. (Search #wideopencourse on Instagram if you are curious.)
Today’s prompt is the word “desire,” which made me think immediately of my husband – as did the previous days’ prompts of “lost,” “need” and “abandoned.” I wanted to photograph him for each/all of these, but I was away on vacation while he was home working. It’s been a hard year for us: newfound sobriety, a lost job and money troubles, cancer scare, depression (thank god for therapy) and marriage counseling (more therapy). My foundation’s been shaken and the distance between us consumes me. I hate it. I want my rock back.
The image I submitted today is my leaky basement. I had to get down on my belly – on the cold, wet, dirty floor (and within breath’s distance of a spider no less) – to capture it… just like I am willing to do the messy, hard, uncomfortable work required to fix my marriage. I’m willing because it’s worth it, so very worth it. Pushing myself to stay glass-half-full here, trying to focus on what’s solid and remembering that cracks are where the light gets in.
I swallowed hard before sharing this because it’s difficult to admit that my marriage isn’t healthy, that it’s struggling – because that’s an admission that I’M not healthy and I’M struggling. And if I haven’t admitted it much to my very closest friends, HOW do I put something like this, something so very personal, out to 50,000 people?
Actually, I guess the better question is WHY?
I’m putting this out there because it’s one of those things that just happens. TO ALL OF US. And to pretend otherwise is just plain silly (if not flat out hypocritical). Blowing rainbows out of my ass on days when I’m feeling sad and angry and downright desperate on the inside is incongruous to say the least.
Glennon Doyle Melton over at Momastery inspired me to get open about this in her raw and profoundly moving post from earlier this week:
“So often, people’s lives are presented to us as before and after stories. It’s always: ‘Look! My mess is fine because I’m ALL BETTER NOW! Ten steps to FREEDOM! Look at me, I’m FREE!’ Sometimes it feels like it’s only okay to talk about your Cinderella story when you’re at the ball. When the tough, ugly parts are over. When everything is shiny and happily ever after, promise!! But there is no ball. There is no point in which you stop working and just brush your long pretty hair and flit around, untouchable. Done. All better.
“The storm before the calm is real. The during is as holy as the after.”
There’s no shame in the way life keeps things interesting. To tweak a thought borrowed from a wise friend, we can’t blame ourselves for experiencing life’s waves any more than we can blame the ocean for having them. Life is not a veneer. It’s not all perfect and smooth and polished – it’s unfolding and sometimes unfolding is messy. It’s a PROCESS. Life HAPPENS. It’s how we respond to it that matters.
We can let our struggles reduce us to rubble, or we can use the stones as building blocks.
We can harden in the face of painful honesty, or we can open ourselves to the lessons contained in it.
We can let shame push us to hide in the corner, or we can share our vulnerabilities and be strengthened as the strands of individual pain come together and create the fabric of shared humanity.
I’ve learned over the years that the best way to heal a wound is to rub a little sunshine on it, so this is my work right now: Opening, hot hiding. Listening, not blocking. Building, not buried.
I have every confidence that hubby and I are going to be better on the other end of this. We are going to know each other differently, and communicate on higher levels, and show ourselves in new ways. His response when I asked if I could post this was proof of that, for he didn’t just give me an okay, he actually encouraged me to do it: “It’s an affirmation of our commitment and the hard work we’re doing.” Isn’t it, though?
Thank you for being witness… and thank you for all the ways you reveal your hearts and your Selves. We are stronger together.
Love,
Becky
