Permission

How are you?

I'm fine.

How are you?

I'm fine.

We play this game everyday . . . many times over . . . with people that we know and people that we don't. Having worked in the same organization for almost two years, I've started to shift this question.

Tell me something about your day that feels exciting to you.

What feels brilliant in your world?

And after a chuckle, their eyes sparkle. And usually they do have something brilliant or exciting to share.

Why does this matter? Why did I arrive home on a Tuesday night and decide that 'this' was what I needed to write about? Perhaps because I was reflecting on a group conversation that I had recently. We were all sharing how things in our lives were moving along. There was a lot of excitement and 'aha!!!' in the air. And everyone was commenting on how they were being buoyed by the joy and light that they felt coming through as each person shared.

And when it came time for someone else in the group to share, there was hesitance. And the first words out of her mouth were an apology, for 'being a downer'. We fell silent and listened to what was alive for her, and after she had finished, the tone of the conversation changed, as others stepped up to share some of the more tender things that were sitting closer to their heart. The things that lay on that thin line of vulnerability - that reminds us we are human, and that life can have incredibly difficult moments . . . that turn into incredibly difficult days and weeks. You could feel the heart strings of the individuals in this group drawing closer - circling in to nurture those places with each other. It was palpable.

When everyone had finished sharing, I reflected back to them that this too, was an opportunity to be buoyed. Because one brave soul had offered the truth of her emotions - because she had given herself permission to feel something that was authentically hers . . . she had also given each of us permission to do the same. And that permission had woven us together intimately in those few shared moments. There was nothing to apologize for. Nothing to be wrong about. Nothing that was a 'downer'. In fact, in some ways, the depth of that share left us richer and more engaged in the fullness of our hearts. The flavor of life - and of all that we love and long for - had become more robust in its experience.

It had become an opportunity to reflect. And to connect.

Perhaps if our greeting to each other were different . . . if we spent a moment with each other asking for what was real. Willing to open to what was real within ourselves. Perhaps it would turn the world on its axis. Shift our perceptions of isolation. Feed our hungry hearts.

Perhaps.