elephant in the room

I fix my gaze on a cascade of late season vines and flowers that have never looked more beautiful.

Back lit through the haze by scanty rays, the greens make me feel with my eyes.  The shots of fuchsia that took up more than half the frame last time I looked are sparingly applied.  A party of three  in various states of bloom.  I am captivated by their endurance.  Comforted by their patience.

My heart is heavy this morning.

I am behind the clouds.

Being the elephant in the room is not new to me, but it’s never felt so uncomfortable.  Why?

Is it my elapsed time on earth?  My collective experience?  The times we live in?

C’mon.

It’s deeper.  Harder to admit —

Because — truth is it takes more courage than I possess to be the elephant in the room right now — and my heart is heavy because I am disappointed in myself. 

In my silence.

I get that it’s always easier to speak your own truth in a room filled with people you know will affirm it.  I get that fear of persecution and rejection are strong motivators of behavior. 

But ultimately these are just good excuses for letting fear define how you show up in life.  And that’s no longer acceptable to me.

So I’ll start by writing it. 

And with grace, I’ll begin to speak it.

Because after all, it’s just a matter of perspective. 

And we need more than one to create interest and balance — and yes, ignite passion — in our lives together on this planet.