It's taken me ten minutes to find a beginning for this blog post. It took me 20 minutes to say yes to my husband's proposal. It took me three months to write the first draft of The First Ten Years, then a solid 15 months of editing it; and it's taken me 31 years to start consistently speaking something that accurately resembles what's in my heart. In other words, my job is to communicate, and yet sometimes I'm just no good at it. In fact, I struggle with it quite a bit.
Which is why when I do find the right words and speak what's lodged down deep in my gut, I never regret a moment. Lucky for me, I have this incredible tribe of beautiful, creative, encouraging souls. Seriously, you guys. If you're reading this you're a part of that tribe and I'm floored by how much love and support you throw this direction. It's humbling in the most non-hyberbolic way.
This doesn't mean, however, that my message always goes over well. I've also heard nasty things said about me, to me, and behind my back over and over through the years. I've been in shows and friendships and working relationships where people feel free to rip me apart. (P.S. Don't feel bad for me, this isn't that kind of post.) All this to say, every time I've spoken the truth with generosity and kindness living behind it, whether it's received poorly or not, I've never regretted communication.
Something interesting has happened in the last two years. The more truth I've spoken, the more I've inadvertently pushed segments of people away from me. My message of "you have something more to give," is laced through every conversation I have. It's not a marketing ploy. It's legitimately how I feel about life. Everyone's life. It was one thought that transformed me. And the more clarity I've found, the more distance I've created between me and others who don't buy into that thought. And this, my dear creative beings, is a-okay. I'm not saying it doesn't hurt to lose friends, partners or connections. Of course, if you are trying to communicate a truth you find to be beautiful and inspiring, and people reject it, it's disappointing at best and agonizing at worst. Yes, disconnection hurts. But if you are feeling something parallel in your own life, I'm going to posit this:
A worthy message is both repellent and magnetic.
If we are grounded with love in the truth that sits deep in that ancient part of our hearts, we are bound to repel those who do not buy into the same truth. Don't misunderstand, I'm not saying to intentionally cut people off. No matter what, we should always be handling others with care and love, especially those who are repelled by our message. What I'm suggesting is that the clearer (and therefore, more alive) you become, for as much magnetic attraction as you draw to that message, those not ready to hear it will fight against it. They might just shoot the messenger.
I tell a great story about my worst review (or ANYONE'S worst review... for real... it was so bad) in my book*, and so let me tell you I have some real street cred when it comes to repelling others. Over the years, I've learned that for all the love and support and camaraderie I feel around the message "you have something more to give," there will be just as much cynicism and misunderstanding. My job, like yours, is not to get everyone to like me. My job, like yours, is simply to tell the truth. Like or dislike is about taste, not worthiness. Love or hate is about preference, not value. My message may not be someone's idea of inspiration, but that doesn't mean this person is wrong. They're just not my person, and I'm not theirs. Someone is out there who is my person, and my job is to keep speaking the truth until I meet them.
All this to say, if you are about to do something like jump into or out of a commitment of love, dare to tell the truth.
If you are about to rock the status quo of your life, dare to tell the truth.
If you are stuck without a way out, first thing's first, dare to tell the truth.
When we all agree to tell the truth, it can become uncomfortable. Things might feel shaky and alien. We might feel isolated, but we won't be alone. No matter how much our message repels those unwilling or uninterested in hearing it, there will be legions of others who speak the same message and sing the same anthem.
Find your people. They, like the truth, are everywhere.