Respect is a word constantly in the airwaves, regularly thrown around, and continuously repeated in any situation a person feels they deserve, well, respect. Respect is also a word often taken at face value with no definition attached, to the point of, in my opinion, a fault. So, in the spirit of being on my soapbox and scooping out the meaning of things until there’s nothing left to scoop…I want to give a little tutorial… a little mini-lesson if you will… on the big-heavy-could be amazing if we actually knew what it meant and used it properly-word, respect. So, with respect, here I go…

There are two parts to the word Respect. “re” and “spect”. Let’s start with “re”.

“Re” is a prefix meaning ‘again’ or ‘again and again’, suggesting repetition. Easy enough.

“Spect” can be found in many words, for example spectacle meaning a show, display or vision. Also spectacles referring to eyeglasses or goggles. Another is spectacular; dazzling, astonishing, or breathtaking. And my favorite, spectator. One who is a viewer, watcher, observer or witness. One can conclude that “spect” is included only in words that refer to looking, seeing, observing, and such.

So, respect really means: to see, again and again. Huh. Imagine that. And all this time we thought we knew what we were talking about.

The thing about respect is that its power lies in the pause…the wonder, interest, and curiosity about another human being (or plant, or animal, or earth, or thing, or or or). Respect is not about being nice to someone, taking them more seriously, or having unfounded admiration based on physical appearance, job status, age, race, religion, ethnicity… or anything in between. It’s actually about seeing someone…past it all, looking deeper at who they are, hearing what they’re really saying, learning where they’re really coming from, paying attention what they’re about…again and again…and again. Until maybe, just maybe you get it a little bit…enough to confidently say, “I respect you”.

So darlings, I ask you… Stop, look, and listen. Wonder about the words you’re using…and why. Wonder about the people around you. Plan to respect someone only if you are prepared to find out who they really are, and kindly embrace their human-being-ness. And then, the best part… gracefully cock your head to the side and wonder about who you really are… again and again. Respect yourselves my dears. And love it every second of it.

And that’s the thing about respect.

Love,

Dear Brooke,

Sincerely,
Greater Good

Dear Greater Good,

No warming up. No small talk. Let’s unpack this baby right frikin’ now.

Your if-it-didn’t-happen-exactly-the-way-it-did-or-you-wouldn’t-be-as-fabulous-as-you-are story… journey…process…was just described by you, little miss good-or-bust as “unfortunate” and “dirty”. OK…could anyone judge themselves more right now? I don’t think so. You need the biggest hug ever, and at the same time… a major ah-ha moment. So, let’s have it.

Seriously my love, who is really judging your past… your man? Nope…It’s you. You are judging your past so much that you are assuming that others will too. You were emotionally abused and coped with it in a way that many humans do…you did the best you could with what you had, and I’m proud of you. Yes, really. But now, you are emotionally abusing yourself. The truth is, once you accept, honor, and respect your past and your journey, so will everyone else.

I know you’re looking for answers…for me to tell you what to do. This actually isn’t about lying or telling the truth or the details or whatever… this is about something that goes way deeper than that. It seems to me that the reason you’re troubled by what to tell and what not to tell is you’re looking for some validation of your story. You want someone to say, “It’s OK, I love you regardless of what you did”. The truth is, my darling, you don’t love you regardless of what you did. You don’t love your past; you don’t respect the choices you made. You are justifying yourself all over the place… “approximately one month” “literally only a few” and right now, in this moment I want you to pause. Take a breath. And listen carefully…

One of the reasons you were able to realize how special this man is, and allow yourself to fall in love is because of your story, because of all the things you did and went through…simple and complicated. If you didn’t do things that felt wrong, how the heck would you know what feels right? It’s time to thank your story. It’s time to celebrate your past. It’s time to love yourself not only regardless of your past, but because of it. Yes, really.

The thing about your story is that it’s well, yours…and it’s important to treat it with care, and big time love. You get to decide what to do with it, where to put it, where not to put it. Your story is a precious gem, a true gift that this life has given you to become your best self. Your story is about a woman who has journeyed through crap relationships and come out alive…a woman who has made decisions that seemed perfect at the time, and learned from all of them…a woman who has a juicy rich beautiful past that made her one strong and capable cookie…a story that is only hers to judge.

I invite you to be proud of your story… especially the parts that you aren’t proud of. Once you embrace this, you’ll know exactly who to tell and how much to share.

Love love love LOVE,

My plane was delayed. It happens. So I found myself with unplanned extra time, walking around the airport with my ridiculously heavy bag slung around my shoulder. I thought that I had packed everything in so well…so thoughtfully placed and organized. I even experimented handling the weight by picking it up a few times before I left the house… it passed all initial tests.

But the longer I held it, the more I believed that a damaging neck or upper back injury was about to occur. The combination of my bra strap digging into my precious shoulder with the bag strap perfectly placed right over it was just too much to take. Periodic breaks became necessary.

During one of my important pauses I found myself thinking…why do we hold onto so much?

We don’t only hold onto stuff, we hold onto feelings, experiences, pasts. We hold onto guilt, hurt, anger, grudges. We hold onto what we said, what someone else said, what we wish we said. We hold onto shoulda’ woulda’ coulda’ all day long. …And the list goes on. But if we’re holding onto such unbelievably outrageously heavy things, isn’t there a point when we have to just put it all down… and breathe?

The thing about the things we hold onto is that they stay and hang out on the surface of our world…more than we care to admit. Even if you think you’ve been wildly successful at pushing it all down, pushing it all away, hiding it all so no one can see… sorry to burst your bubble darling dear…the only person you are fooling is your own precious self. No matter how hard we try to push it all down… certain things are simply indigestible.

Our bodies, our spirits, our souls… these gorgeous things are not built to digest things like guilt, anger, fear, hate, regret. Just like our stomachs can’t digest poison… we have to get it all pumped out… or the consequences are, well, ugly. So it all stays there, at the forefront, poisoning your every moment. The held onto stuff inches it’s way into whatever we do or say or experience. The held onto stuff takes up so much space in our bodies that we can’t invite the good stuff in…we are full of undigested crap. I know, fun.

So, you have undigested-held onto-past-crap that is influencing you more than you were willing to realize…and now you’re admitting it silently to yourself with a little smirk on your face. Yes, you. Love love love it. Welcome to being human. Congratulations, you’ve arrived. But that’s not me giving you permission to hold onto it forever. This is me caring about you like crazy and letting you know I get it while at the same time saying… it’s time to put down your bag honey. Take a breath.

Consider what you hold onto. Be curious. Why do you need it? Why do you want it? How is it serving you? Is it making your day, your life, your self… better? Really? What would your day, your life, your self… look like, feel like, be like if for just a minute, you let it go?

And that’s the thing about the things we hold onto.

Love like crazy,