Raw, honest, open, vulnerable faith

Lately I've become more aware of the problems of those around me. It as if, in releasing my own true self to the online world (in 'letting it all out there') I've somehow become more open to hearing others' pain.

And I've come to feel that helping someone in need requires faith. It calls for a trust that, with loving intentions, the right words and gestures will flow and that I might be able to help them.

Being open and honest about my own feelings requires a level of faith too. Faith that releasing this information, honestly and with integrity, will lead to understanding, learning and growth for all.

But expectations can sneak in there too. They can set themselves up in our minds when we're allowing ourselves to be our most vulnerable - like fencing or crash barriers that give a short-term feeling of security despite the speed we're travelling at. And when those expectations aren't met the force of feeling vulnerable, of leaving ourselves open, can take our breath away suddenly.

This is how I've been feeling at times: on the edge as I become more and more honest with myself and those around me, making the effort to rely on faith and trust as I listen to others' stories and do what I can. This is where I practice saying to myself BRING IT ON - just like the delicious Tara Bliss suggests. I allow myself to feel fully vulnerable and uncomfortable and walk through my resistance (to failure). And then I can see my fears for what they are...and can learning from the lesson as it passes by.

My last post about our marriage was honest and raw. And it needed to be that way for us. Life is full and busy and the residue of post-natal depression has left us with little to say sometimes, or little time to say it.

The big things, the important things; about love and dreams and feelings, get put aside to deal with day-to-day dramas and practical considerations. This is what we manage at the moment, but its not what I want and I think I can see - I know I can feel - that its not what Ian wants either. That's what I hang on to.

And so what matters most is what action we take to work towards that better place - that place where communication is clear and free-flowing, upfront and loving all at the same time.

Sometimes the best way to open a new conversation, a more open dialogue, is to take a risk and go about it in a very different way.

Soon we will shake up our daily life with 100 days of travel around Australia - and if that doesn't bring back the best of us and more then I'm out of ideas.

And in the meantime....

Well I might just continue being raw and honest with myself and the world through my writing, and urge Ian to take a look when he has time.

Unorthodox? Perhaps....

But who says normal is worth aiming for anyway?

Cleaning windows

"In the end...liberation must be an inner question, a search for quality of life which cannot be arranged, but only discovered and lived"

The time is ripe for talking about our marriage (did I just mix a metaphor there?)

Up until now I've been very good at keeping it behind closed doors. And behind thee scenes of my blog and social media.

And I guess to be fair to myself, this is the status of a lot of relationships - both marital and otherwise. I almost always find myself deeply surprised when a marriage ends. And I find, irrationally, that I tend to think everyone else's marriages are healthier than ours.

And now it feels, or at least I need, to be open. I need to talk about how things really feel for me. Why now I'm not entirely sure, but its like I'm cleaning out my inner house, one window, one room, at a time. And as more light pours in I see the hidden recesses more clearly. And then these too need to be seen, evaluated, cleared up.

That's how it feels right now. Just a need to be open. An introduction to another part of me, rather than a startling revelation on the inner workings of us.

But I think, also, that turning the light on and pulling back those curtains is both vulnerable and healthy. It begins the process of detoxification and understanding. It re-starts connection and clarity.

And although I feel sad that the commitment I made to my man years ago has waned, our connectedness threadbare and practical, it feels reasonable for things to be this way after the ravages of post-natal depression.

As I clean another room in my house and pull back the curtains my wish is for greater clarity, light and understanding. For all of us.

xx