Putting my thoughts in writing for strangers to read is completely out of my comfort zone. I don’t think that I’ve felt quite this vulnerable in such a long time. But since I write about small steps and being brave, I should be the first to take my own advice.
So I am just focusing on moving forward, and the next big thing is adding a few more pictures to my website. Since I only wanted pictures that I took, that meant I had to pull out some old photographs from what seemed like a long lost world.
I ran across some pictures of Tintern Abbey, England, and I remembered how peaceful it was there, just walking the grounds, listening to the howling wind rushing through the hollow windows. There was no roof, and many of the walls and windows were missing. And though in the middle of that green field, the abbey was exposed to the elements of wind, rain and stormy weather, it also was majestic, and more so because the light illuminated the intricate details that would normally be hidden if the structure had been left whole.
So in the moments when I can’t believe I started my own website and am sharing some of my deepest feelings with the world, I remind myself that people are like Tintern Abbey—some of us are fractured and missing different pieces of ourselves.
We feel vulnerable when these pieces are uncovered, shying away from the light. But maybe we can remember that there is just something stunning about standing in the light, that the intricate details of our character are literally being lifted out of obscurity.
Maybe we can remember that when we are vulnerable, we are being freed from the dark.