My Own Soft Spaces

At night, I have these moments with my son before he goes to sleep, where we reconnect after a long day. It’s the time where he has my undivided attention and where the floor is open for him to ask questions or share his feelings about something on his mind. Sometimes, these questions are random and are often things that I don’t have the answer to like “How many eyes does a caterpillar have?“ and we have to ask Google©, (apparently they have 12 eyes, yet poor eyesight, go figure!) but sometimes, these questions are really pretty heavy and render me speechless. I always answer honestly. It’s important to me that he feels as though his thoughts matter enough to be considered and his questions are important enough to be met with honesty. It’s important that I create not just safe spaces for him, in the general sense of the word, but that I also create those spaces where trust is built. Spaces that are safe, in regards to him understanding that his feelings and thoughts have a place with me. Soft, in that they actually matter. One night, after some heavy conversation, I realized that while I have done and excellent job at creating those spaces for him, I’ve somehow failed at doing the same for myself.

I’ve neglected creating those spaces for myself for quite some time. I’ve found that I often ignore the voice deep within that arises when something is wrong or on my mind. I’ve convinced myself that I can’t focus on my feelings because I have too much to do and that I shouldn’t “dwell” on the things that feel wrong. These are the things that I’ve told myself. This is the way that I’ve continually placed my feelings in a box. Operating from that space, can only be sustained for a short time. Eventually, all that you have been shifting to the bottom, bubbles upward. There’s anxiety that presents its self as anger. There’s that sense of sadness that seems to cling to your skin; the restlessness you feel in your joints.

While I’ve neglected myself, I’ve somehow been really great at being a soft place for others to fall. My lap has become where folks lay when their own sh*t takes over. It’s my ear and heart that’s relied upon when they need their feelings heard and felt. While I’m happy to be here for them in this way, I wonder where and how I was showing up for Kay?

I made a promise to stop trying so hard to not deal with the feelings and thoughts that were tugging at my spirit. I’m woking on becoming more emotionally present for myself, by intentionally reconnecting with them. I’m figuring out how to honor them, by meeting them with the same honesty that I give to my son and to others. Sometimes, that looks like journaling. Sometimes, it’s a walk where I can hear and feel my own thoughts. Today, it looked like sitting on the stoop watching the butterflies flit from flower to flower. It may look different from time to time, but the feeling is always the same.

Safe.

Soft.

Free.

Be encouraged.