I don’t know about you, but I live in a world that require a filter. No, we’re not talking a camera filter, but a life filter. A how-we-show-up filter. It’s all our perception, of course, but that doesn’t make it any less powerful.
The list is a long one:
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- We need to make the significant other feel that things are okay until we can figure out how we feel about that thing we should probably talk to them about.
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- The kids need to see our strength, not the secret fear we have that maybe we didn’t prepare them enough for that next step they’re about to take.
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- The coworkers need our professionalism—even if they’re doing things that are ridiculous beyond measure and someone should just tell them (not RHW co-workers—just in general!).
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- The Zoom call frame poses us on TV and our hair must be right, our facial expressions—so disconnected from our body as to accentuate every feature—need to not display RBF (for me, when I am really focused, people think I’m mad).
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- For me, the wild mustangs need me to put away all of my legit worries and be present with them in the moment—which I love, but also, sometimes I just don’t have the effort to put away anything else.
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- Awkward family gatherings require us to put a river’s-worth of past floods under a bridge and be polite.
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- Occasional brushes with acquaintances at the store whose names we may have forgotten beg us to return connection we see in their eyes.
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- And work’s tasks? There’s always someone who needs convincing, a project that needs advocating for, a battle that needs to be fought.
Then there’s the genuine me.
The me who has no place to just be whoever it is I am in the moment. The me who might be sad, or burnt out, or scared, or so excited that I want to dance in the rain.
Where is the place for the unfiltered moment?
It’s rare. And it’s rarity is exhausting. And a little pointless.
Because I know enough people to know that we are all there. We all have big things we are wrestling. We all have fears and shames, insecurities and frustrations. How much energy do we spend pretending we don’t? And why? My “brave” attempts to have it all together only reinforce the prison that you too, must try that hard. We know better—we all do.
But maybe we forget.
Forget that everyone is a real person and nobody has everything together. This doesn’t mean that we aren’t doing amazing things. It doesn’t mean we aren’t succeeding. It’s just part of being human.
Often I long for a world where we can be all of our humanness in one space. No pretense.
Raw Heart Writing retreats are that place.
We designed them to embrace the raw—not because we cater only to those who have experienced big traumas, but because we understand that to be human is to have raw places from time to time. We understand what it’s like to have no place to be the raw parts of ourselves as well as the “more presentable” parts. The whole of humans is welcome here. It’s safe to be yourself here.
It saddens me a bit that we must design a space outside of everyday life and designate it as a safe zone to convey the idea that you get to be yourself here. Because shouldn’t we be able to be ourselves everywhere? What would the world be like if we could be even just 3% more genuine about what we’re going through?
What if we can?
I (Angie) have been experimenting with that concept, cautiously bringing more of the messiness of my real life into my work, my social circles, my spheres. Okay, for y’all who know me, you wouldn’t say I’m doing it cautiously, you’d say I’m throwing caution to the wind. Maybe, by comparison to the masses of us putting our best foot forward, yes. But It’s a scary endeavor—because that openness scares some people to death. But for others it creates a space where they too can lay down the image and breath. Be themselves—whatever that looks like that day.
I’ve been surprised, actually, at the ripple effect of being genuine: it invites others to do the same. So I wonder, what if more of us did a little of that? We want big ways to change the world: Big campaigns, world peace, massive gestures. But what if the thing that could change the world is us being just a little bit less filtered? Just a little bit more of who we might be today and a little less worried about the image? I don’t know about you, but I’m beginning to believe it’s the thing that could change the world. Our worlds, at least. It has changed mine.
You might wonder if that means we pay no heed to how we behave with one another at the retreats. Not at all. Because the requirement for inviting others to be genuine in the moment is to create space for them to be genuine in those moments. To show up with the intention to experience others as they bravely share what they might not be able to share in their other spaces. We don’t pretend to have the answers for them and we don’t work to find answers. The world is on fire and it has plenty of answers.
Often what humans need more than answers is to feel heard, to be
seen, and to be accepted anyway—no matter what is seen or heard. This kind of accepting space is healing, refreshing, and assuring. Assuring that we each are human and that humanness is beautiful in its sharedness. In making this space for each other—in coming together with our own curiosities rather than with ambitions and answers to give—we find reflections of our own wounds and gifts, and acceptance of ourselves as we accept others.
We like to think of this kind of interaction as a different kind of understanding, as standing under. Standing under burdens together, standing under the waterfall of life’s experiences together—not to move or change or fix, but just to experience for a few days what it’s like when humans be bravely human together.
And, a little secret? Although we design this space for you in this way, we are always amazed at how powerful it is for you and for ourselves, when we show up with the intention to be genuine and leave the filters behind. It’s magical enough that it’s impossible to convey—you kinda just have to try it for yourself.
We’ll be right there with you, being changed by your bravery even as you are changed by ours.
Bring your raw hearts and let’s write. There’s space for that here.
