“Sometimes she concealed herself for comfort.” ~Jennifer
In many ways, I adore the Internet. Of course it makes ordering anything from books to baby food in the middle of the night a heck of a lot easier, but my gratitude goes much deeper than that. On a very personal level, the Internet opened up a whole new world to me; a place of art, beauty, and bravery. Thanks to online courses and lovely blogs, I’ve found kindred spirits and connected with buried parts of myself. These last few years have been rife with major changes. Some felt like breakdowns, others like breakthroughs. Being able to peel back my layers and document the stages I have gone through in the company of wonderful women has helped me see better on my path, even when my vision was clouded with hormones and headaches.
Sometimes it’s hard to show up and share, but it makes my day each time one of you leaves a comment. Maybe you have felt similar pain or similar joy. Maybe you were having a bad day and my post somehow comforted you or encouraged you. I love the fact that we can live anywhere on this planet and still be connected. At the same time, I feel myself struggling to keep up with the non-stop pace of the Internet. I don’t want to miss out on a new class, or fail to show up for a friend. I want to participate, witness, and support people. I want to keep growing and learning and unfolding. There are tons of beautiful blogs out there with amazing photos and soulful content. There are many fabulous opportunities and programs to sign up for, too. It’s inspiring and uplifting…except when it’s overwhelming. And I do get overwhelmed. As much as I want to be connected, I also need to be offline, in my everyday life of diapers and dishes.
Sometimes I’m so embroiled in what’s happening at home that I can’t muster the energy to get near a computer. Nor should I, for that matter. I want to do more than I realistically have time for. Sometimes I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Sometimes I need silence. Sometimes I don’t want to look in the mirror and see myself, my mistakes, my regrets, my shame. Sometimes it’s just plain easier to conceal what hurts. It may not be right, but it’s reality. Sometimes I need to stand behind the curtain. Sometimes I need privacy to slowly lift a layer of darkness.
I’m still trying to find a balance between being online and being offline. I can’t be both at the same time. No one can. So wherever you are today, in whatever city or country, I hope you can be gentle with yourself. You don’t have to share everything or be everywhere. It’s okay to be human. Sometimes soulwork is solitary work. Other times, it helps immensely to be in the company of creative kindreds. Whether today is a day you choose to conceal or reveal, know that you’re not alone. The invitation is open to show up at She is Three anyday, just as you are.