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This year, my word is Spaciousness.
Hello everyone, how are you? It has been ages since I had a presence on any public platform. It is not in the folds of my life these days, that’s for sure. But I am deciding to respond to my creative outlets more. It’s really easy for me to forget that when I show up in this way, it may help people outside of my immediate world, but tangibly for me, it waters my soul. When I show up with “pen in hand”, or microphone, in this case, I get to express things that bring me joy to share. I have to remind myself that I need not be an expert to share what I share and add value, and frankly, I prefer that. When I show up here, one thing I know for sure is that I am an expert in my human experience… that allows me to meet in this space with the purposes of both attempting to dampen the loneliness and self-judgment that you might experience, and allows me to show up naked for myself (metaphorically of course) and in that, willing to just be me in this uniquely creative practice of self-love. When you love you, you love me and you love the world. Our love is infectious… it’s contagious, in a marvelously ridiculous way.
So, going back to it. This year, I have decided on a word of the year, as I have every year for maybe 6 or 7 years and it has been a wonderful practice that I couldn’t recommend more. Choosing a word is a simple way of guiding your intention for the year and clarifying your priorities. Last year was peace and it was really helpful in helping me to stop and settle myself, simply asking questions around peace. Does this bring me peace? How can I spread peace? Is this taking my peace? What can I do right now to help with my sense of peace? And so much more. I didn’t remember it all of the time, but when I did, it helped me to remember to prioritize the things that brought me peace and spread peace in the world. It helped me to remember that when I am at peace in my heart, I am able to show up as a loving human, wife, mother, friend, and more.
This year, I decided, quite easily, on the world “Spaciousness”… like “Space” but “Spaciousness” specifically because it is not just my physical world that needs space. And the images conjured up when I think of Spaciousness are richer and much more profoundly detailed than “Space”… I want space in my head. I want space in my heart. I want space in my time. I want space in my digital world. I want space. I want to listen more and therefore have space in my speech. I want to love more and therefore have space in my time so that I can actively love those that are my priority. I remember a meme I once read that said “I’m sorry if I’m being a bad friend. I’m trying to be a good mom.” Or something along those lines anyway. I loved this, and took it deeper in my mind. It was validating even though I struggled with it and struggled to put it into practice. I don’t want to be a bad friend, nor do I want to sarcastically apologize to friends for not being there for them. That’s not what got me here. What got me is a combination of, first, the idea that life has seasons that really can catch us by surpise (like early motherhood, and then every single other part of motherhood after that hahaha) and it can be really hard to shed our skin including all of the expectations that we took into our motherhood journey, or whatever part of life you are embarking on similarly. And second, the fact that I can’t be everyone’s best friend or I won’t be able to show up how I want to for anybody in my life, INCLUDING my family and… wait for it… myself! Yep. I should be in my own inner circle. That means I think well of myself, and take time to spend time with myself. It means I take care of myself and I practice working on myself. I used to feel the need to be liked by everyone, and that coupled with the terrifying fear of seemingly rejecting someone in their pursuit of a relationship with me. Those struggles aren’t completely gone, I’m still working on them. But I have moved up in priority for my own life and so has my family, and I have learned to say no, and to not jump in to do everything and anything I think I should do or would help earn my value in the eyes of “whomever it was at the time”.
For many of us, Motherhood breaks wide open our ideas and exposes them to ourselves. We come out of the cocoon naked and limping. We feel vulnerable, blind, incapable, weak, and afraid. But we learn that we have emerged with superpowers. That takes time, and pain.
I remember learning that a butterfly’s body liquefies inside of the chrysalis and is completely reformed into a brand-new creature. That sounds painful. Can you imagine being a butterfly with a human brain and going through that process? What if nobody told you that this process would feel like death and be the most terrifying, overwhelming while liberating, and revolutionary crossroads in your life. Nobody told me that and yet, when I learn about the butterfly and its process, I couldn’t help but feel the poetical parallels to the human experience of motherhood deep in my bones. It ends up beautiful but not at all what we expect. I remember reading a nature parable that talked about the experience of a butterfly. The caterpillar had no idea what was happening. It was for sure death. But then it wasn’t. And yet, the butterfly is completely new. The butterfly leaves behind the shell of their old life with no way to return. No way to undo the transformation that has happened.
So, as I recall the way this helped me to really express what I have experienced internally and externally as I became a mother, I am constantly feeling all of the feelings with gratitude and an understanding I wouldn’t want to live without but that was purchased with great pain.
We will never be who we once were, or put in a better way, we will never experience the world as we once did. We are the experiencers of this life, but as our eyes continue to open and the world continues to become more and more colored, we simply can’t go through things the same way again. We will forever be changed and it’s the pain and joy that brings the color. Both of them in a sort of intricate dance.
In this stripping away of who I was, I have fallen in love with less of the excess. It feels like other stuff is just that, stuff, that gets in the way of the continued coloring of my life. I want to keep seeing and I want to keep growing, stretch marks, wrinkles, colors and all. I love this life, and I want it to be spacious. I am enough, and I don’t argue that anymore. I don’t beg for more pain, but I see that the human experience involves both pain and joy and all that is in between. I want space to breathe it in. I want space to do the simple things that make my life great. I remember another quote that said something to the effect of the greatest moments in life actually aren’t the big moments, but the simple ones. It’s the mundane things we miss when on our death beds. What will I hold dear on my death bed? Snuggles with my boys while they prep for bed with their salt lamp and impossibly wiggly energy. Coffee time with my husband while I snuggle my amazing dog Jax. I’ll miss the morning walks where I feel the crisp air on my cheeks and get to connect with my sister and best friend. I’ll miss the evenings before bed when my husband makes a perverse joke to connect before he goes to sleep or the inside jokes we have about our boys and their hilarious habits that we know are fleeting. These are the moments that I want to give space to. In order to do that, I need less in my head and space in my heart. I need the intention and I need the time. I need to settle into the moments that pass so quickly when my mind constantly begs and begs to draw me away and forgive myself (holding space for my own growth) as I mess things up with the only reliable consistency in life. A consistency that allows me to learn. Allows me to grow and reminds me that what I recently learned might just be true. That God very well may just be Grace in and of itself. All of the stories aside. Just pure grace in energy tied to or explained by whatever story makes sense, this Grace goes hand in hand with a life where mistakes are needed to learn.
So, this year, 2022, I have chosen Space or Spaciousness as my guiding word. What will you choose? I hope you have a deliciously imperfect weekend, filled with joy and messes and lots and lots of learning, but most of all GRACE.
This is Holly Ann Kasper… the radical imperfectionist.