The Open Hands

“Show me.
Show me what I cannot see.
Show me what I cannot choose.
Help me make the choice.
Make the choice if I cannot.
I accept whatever choice that is.”

These are dangerous words.
These are courageous words.
These are life-changing words.

This has been my prayer with each breath.
Show me.

The Repair

The other day, I was chatting with a friend after a really hard conversation. One of repair. One of truth. One of painful clarity.

She had shared why she disconnected. Why she ghosted. Why she had to step away.

I sat receiving all of it. Knowing something was there, but also knowing it wasn’t something specific I had done to her. It was a pile that got too big without conscious conversations. A pile I’ve seen over and over with others. Until silence or pointing fingers becomes the only way around it. Until saying what needs to be said is too painful.

I was grateful for her honesty. Grateful for the repair. And grateful I could receive with open hands instead of my old way — clenched fists and hitting back.

My ego was bruised for a moment. Yet my heart knew the whole truth. My heart knew how to see the 30,000ft view. Her pain, her fear, her worry — mixed with my choices, my way of being, my humanness. All of which was perfect.

The Question

After we were done clearing, she asked me something even more profound:

“Do you feel like you are chasing this next step? Or does it feel like it’s choosing you?”

She shared that in all the years she’d known me, it had always felt like I was chasing what was next. She wasn’t wrong. I was chasing the updated American dream. Chasing what I thought was success. What I thought was reinvention. What I thought was supposed to be next.

Only to realize I was chasing my own tail. With scarcity, fear, and worry driving every step.

Because I know how to do it the hard way.
Because life isn’t easy.
Because I’m strong enough.
Because anything worth having is a sacrifice.

I had no idea until recently that loosening my grip, letting go, and opening my hands would be the most excruciating yet freeing thing I could do.

And that as I let go, I’d also prove just how human I am. Just how much I don’t know. How I am right back at the very beginning of this journey. Again.