When humans first starting chucking golf balls around for fun, golf balls looked quite different than they do today. They were shiny and smooth. As 15th century Scotsmen strolled around their fields, clubs in hand, they started to notice that their shiny little balls were really hard to control. They could soar high and far, but their direction was unpredictable and chaotic. The men started to notice that the older balls, the ones that were a bit battered around the edges with nicks and scrapes on them, were much easier to control. Fast forward a few centuries, and we now play with a completely different looking golf ball – one that is covered in anywhere from 300-500 dimples, creating turbulence in the outer layer that allows greater ball control.
Turns out that nicks and scrapes can be quite useful.
This is a particularly apt metaphor for the journey I’ve been on for the last couple of years. I have this pesky old limiting belief that I must be perfect (read: shiny and smooth) in all areas in my life in order to gain the love, peace and joy that I most crave. This perfectionism has plagued me and kept me isolated in a cage when I most desperately want to break free, connect with others and live a life of unbridled joy.
Recently, at the advice of some very wise friends, I’ve started to do the opposite of what my perfectionistic-driven instincts have always told me to do. I’ve started to show my ugly. Instead of pretending that everything is FINE (“Feelings Inside Not Expressed”), I’ve started to open up and show my warts and my scars. I’ve cried and I’ve screamed instead of masking my pain with a smile. I’ve admitted that I don’t have the answers to everything – in fact, sometimes I don’t even have a clue – and I’ve asked people that are wiser than me for help. I’ve hit my knees asking the Universe for guidance and support.
I’ve been astounded at what has resulted. I have been met with warmth and tenderness that has melted my heart. Complete strangers have reached out to me to share messages that have given me hope and insight. Coincidences (I use that term loosely) abound. I’m seeing signs of the Universe’s support in the most random situations.
Instead of repelling people and further isolating myself, which is what I always expected would happen if I showed my shadows, I've been met with quite the opposite. When I share my struggles I give people permission to do the same. When people share their struggles and their stories with me, we connect on a deeper level and we help each other heal. Healing is simply the application of love to the places that hurt, and if we don't show anyone where we are hurting, how can we heal?
Showing my ugly is hard for me, a Good Girl who desperately wants to be accepted in this crazy world of ours. Yet, haven’t we all had our share of ups and downs? No one gets out of this thing called life without scars. It’s what we learn from those scars and how we apply them to the world at large that matters.
The people I admire most are not the people who have perfect lives – quite the contrary. I most admire people who have been through hell and back and who use their experiences to lift others out of the darkness. One of my greatest wishes with my time on earth is to help people discover and shine their radiant brilliance in the world, but I can’t do that without acknowledging and embracing my own shadows – my own ugly.
I’m learning, slowly but steadily, that it’s okay to have nicks and scrapes. Maybe I can be like the golf ball and use those bruises to help myself fly.
