“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”
~ Dr Elisabeth Kübler-Ross
This quote struck me when I read it. I find it to be so true.
In a culture that glorifies success, charisma, and perfect Instagram lives, we rarely consider that the person standing beside us has quietly fought battles we may not know about.
Everyone who inspires me or who I respect has been knocked down several times - and each time rose up again. We all get knocked down, but fewer rise stronger and better for it. Some remain caught in the blame-and-judgment story they create, never seeing the possibility that they could transform and become more than they ever thought possible.
How would you know your courage if you had not faced your fear?
How would you know compassion if you had not failed?
How would you know friendship and love if you had not opened your heart?
I’m entering a quiet season - I feel it in my body and heart - where I want to nestle into my cottage, walk the paths along the cliffs, and read books and poetry. I’ve lost touch with my body, in the sense that peace no longer feels embodied the way it used to. This past summer has been difficult and has caused me to question so many things. My head is full of noise, and I yearn for more stillness. I’m considering going offline for a few weeks to listen to something I know is there but has not had space to fully emerge. I recognize that I feel overwhelmed by world events and the state of humanity. I want to spend more time with the land and water than with the machines in my life.
So if I do disappear for a while, know that I’m rooting, finding my ground, so when I emerge, I will be lighter and hopefully, wiser.
Photo by Alina Chernovolova on Unsplash
