"It hit me that maybe the battles of life are best fought without armor and without weapons. That maybe life gets real, good and interesting when we remove those defenses and walk out onto the battlefield naked." ~ Glennon Doyle Melton, from Carry On, Warrior
I read this last night in an excerpt of Glennon's book, stories and truths about her experience as a recovering addict and how that has helped her reach out to others, in the April issue of Ladies Home Journal. Even though I don't know what it's like to be an addict, she was speaking a language I utterly understood. Sometimes I have to be reminded why I write this blog. I forget from time to time why it is meaningful and important to offer truth. I can't tell you how often I think to myself - why am I spending so much time and energy baring my soul? who really cares anyway? - and then I read words like Glennon's and remember how it feels to have someone reach deep inside of me in understanding of what it is like to simply live... a life of pain, a life of beauty, a life of triumph and imperfection, of connection and love.
Underneath the zillions of details of our personal narratives lies the same core truths and getting naked is the only way to truly see that. Trust in this truth is my own brand of faith, a guiding force and a way of life for me - give and receive, give and receive, a virtuous circle of meaning. Some days it's harder for me to go there. Truth is a practice that is never perfected.
Some of my stories feel so achingly tender but I understand those are probably the stories I need to share the most. Someone has to be willing to be the first to step out onto the battle field, and I am incredibly grateful for those who lead the way to this place of vulnerability. It reminds me that there is nothing in our own experience that hasn't been felt or experienced by another and that we can all embrace one another in a solidarity that is so easily forgotten.