The Dirty Truth

Growing through dirt

Would you believe that I died more than once? I just died a few seconds again this morning! I keep having this dangerous conversation with myself about going for a run. Could you believe I'm afraid of running? Yup, I just said it. It's actually surprising because I've mastered running late or even running away from my inner voice that whispers, "Yes, you can". But this morning, when every excuse not to run, won, I died a little.
I'm a lousy runner. Don't be fooled by my small, fit frame. I have no endurance, which is one reason I suck at running. I'll be ten minutes in and just when I might pass out, I talk myself into walking instead, and then I feel defeated. So to avoid feeling inadequate, I don't even bother lacing up my kicks. Today, that's the fear that won. Other days, it could be anything from avoiding an uncomfortable conversation with someone, or resisting something that requires a thread of bravery. See how we can die a few seconds each day? When you step away from an opportunity that requires an ounce of courage, your soul just flat lined.
Think of all those times you got tangled up in your bullshit story, giving center stage to your ego. Your "what ifs, why me, I can't, not good enough, not meant to be..." are stabbing away at your soul every single time. This is how we miss out on what's really happening, what's really being said, and what's really being felt. We'd rather not go there. We get comfortable sitting in our dirt, hoping for sun, yet trying to grow without rain. I know it can get terribly ugly down there. Life can curl you up in darkness and it can comfort you with light. So are growing or dying a little today?
If you're on autopilot, just coasting through life, ask yourself, what brings you joy? It shouldn't be that hard to name the things that make you happy. Sometimes it can be though. We're either too afraid to name them or sadly, we spend so much energy giving joy to others, we don't even know what makes us happy. Wanna know what brings me joy? Talking, writing, sharing. One day (because I'm still choosing to die a little until then) I'll walk across the stage of Place des Arts, with a mic in one hand and a bag of dirt in the other. Unlike Gabby Bernstein or the late Dr. Wayne Dyer, my talk will offer something different. Everyone will receive a bag of dirt (insert copyright here) at the entrance. My event will be called 'The Dirty Truth' (copyright that too) whereby I'll encourage everyone to go home, bury a seed in their dirt, and watch how painfully slow it'll grow. This experiment serves as an observation of our growing pains. Some seeds will barely crack through the surface, while others will be in full bloom. And since you won't see the evolution of your neighbour's seed, you'll be spared the 'comparison' stab.
I can promise you one thing for sure - I'm going to run this spring. Maybe even tomorrow. I'm going to run because I know how amazing I'll feel afterwards. Just like life. I'll face pain, suffer somewhat, feel defeated, but nonetheless, the kicks will come on despite my dead-weight thoughts. I refuse to let that weight choke the joy out of my life, killing me slowly. Will you run with me? Will you run to the things that bring you joy? Will you ask for rain so you can grow a little stronger? Will you push yourself to sprout? Will you share your dirty truth? At least share it with yourself?
This is my dirty truth. I'm scared to run. I don't like to fly. I'll spend two hours deciphering food labels, but still leave the grocery store with a box of Nutella donuts. I'll meditate for fifteen minutes and yell at my kids for ten. I'll tell you to speak your truth but lose my voice when it's my turn. I'll look like a marathon runner, but walk most of the run. That's some of my dirt and I'm OK with burying myself in it, but I won't let myself die there too. Death comes in so many ways, but I never realized that I died as much as I have. Death isn't tragic. What's tragic is dying with our magical seeds still in us.
I'm going for a run today. I just decided. Even if it's only ten minutes (aim low and surprise yourself)! And it doesn't really matter if I don't ever make it on the stage of Place des Arts. But what a shame it would be if I dulled my sparkle, stopped feeling safe to be myself, or got so caught up in big dreams that I missed the small miracles. May you all find comfort in your dirt, and commit to growing despite how dark it gets. Oh and I learned a thing or two about gardening. Once you plant your seeds, you're challenged with weeds, pests, and diseases. Ironically, weeds are inevitable, which is okay - so long as they don't start chocking out your plants. Water your seeds, not your weeds! Now go celebrate your dirty truth! Don't forget to LIVE, forGIVE, do what you LOVE, so when you die a little, you're not choked by your weeds.