I have come to believe that there is a space within all of us, a longing that wants to be known.
Often, we will hide our depths because we are worried about being rejected; or we will stifle our gifts and talents because we are fearful of failure, of not living up to them.
Much of the time, many of us harbor resentment because we no longer want to be known for who we once we're, but for the person we've grown into Now. Being trapped by the past is a heavy gig.
If life consists of continuous growth, which I believe it does, then we should honor it - not only in ourselves, but in those around us.
I was once certain of so many things, but the older I get, the more I've learned to hold space for the mystery, embracing it like a friend.
I'm always learning and I make a metric fuckton of mistakes, but I have slowly come to realize that it is an act of love to hold others with a loose grip, to assume that they are not their history (or our shared history), to assume that they are not the same, that they continue to grow. One of the ways it has become easier to embrace this idea is by the simple act of listening more than I speak and by asking better questions when I do.
I won't leave you with any signaling about gratitude. There is nothing you are Supposed to be, feel, embody or carry on this holiday. The only insight I have is that, perhaps, a holiday dinner is a good place to start holding that space, embracing that mystery, honoring that growth. It's a good place to set down preexisting narratives, roles and expectations and replace them with humble hospitality, curiosity and genuine interest in who we are all becoming.
Suffice to say, you are welcome here, at my metaphorical table, in all your changes and complexities and beautifully unknown parts; welcome, celebrated and loved. You are a person worthy of knowing. Come take a seat.
Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.
