Good morning…

As I wrote a reminder email to my Tuesday class yesterday morning, I included the following quote from this week’s chapter. In the afternoon, we settled into my living room. We shared thoughts and learned collaboratively. As we talked candidly about the things that get in the way of our whole hearted living, we read these words aloud. Again they resonated.

“In Jungian circles, shame is often referred to as the swampland of the soul. I’m not suggesting that we wade out into the swamp and set up camp. I’ve done that and I can tell you that the swampland of the soul is an important place to visit, but you would not want to live there. What I am proposing is that we learn how to wade through it. We need to see that standing on the shore catastrophisizing about what could happen if we talked honestly about our fears is actually more painful than grabbing the hand of a trusted companion and crossing the swamp. And, most important, we need to learn why constantly trying to maintain our footing on the shifting shore as we gaze across to the other side of the swamp – where our worthiness waits for us – is much harder work than trudging across” (p. 36 in Brene Brown’s The Gifts of Imperfection).

So, we grabbed the hand of honest words and we crossed the swampland together. We talked of taking care of others while neglecting deep needs in ourselves. We admitted self medicating with candy, food, or wine instead of setting a protective boundary around our time and our tender heart. When we recalled times of feeling our confidence nosedive, we remembered hustling for approval, talking more, faster and louder, verbally tap-dancing a song and dance. If we are going to build our home in the land of feeling “good enough” just the way we are, we need to wade together through our shame stories with trusted companions in the presence of our God who whispers, “Regardless of your imperfections, you are worthy of unconditional love.”

Even when the way goes through
Death Valley,
I’m not afraid
when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd’s crook
makes me feel secure.
You serve me a six-course dinner
right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head;
my cup brims with blessing.
Your beauty and love chase after me
every day of my life.
I’m back home in the house of God
for the rest of my life (Psalm 23:4-6, MSG),

…Sue…