Inner-Excavation

Two weeks ago I started a read-along of Liz Lamoreux's thought-provoking (and beautiful) book Inner Excavation. The read-along is lead by Liz in the most heartfelt way, and it brings together a group of diverse, interesting, and creative women (it's certainly not only for women, but no men enrolled--BTW, enrollment is still open, and it's free).

The subtitle of the book is "Explore Your Self Through Photography, Poetry and Mixed Media." I've long loved photography; poetry is a recent find, yet feels comfy and enjoyable; mixed media I haven't tried, but this read-along has--at the very least--gotten me to think differently about my journal (e.g., pasting in photographs, making art).

I've spent my adult life exploring my inner-self, in a multitude of ways. Some explorations more intense than others. But this particular process is different: it's steeped in creativity. The exploration is really of my own creativity and expression. I try new things, feel vulnerable, yet still share my work. The read-along group is a supportive and safe group with which to share. And some parts of me (especially the tender parts) require safety in order for sharing.

When appropriate, though, I think it's helpful to boldly share, without the benefit of a safety net. To share something with which I feel fairly comfortable, yet still makes me feel vulnerable. And then trust. Trust that whatever the reaction (or non-reaction), I am strong enough to handle it. In the words of Brene Brown: "Vulnerability is our most accurate measure of courage" (2012 TED talk).

To be brave means to be vulnerable. And I think the more brave, vulnerable acts we witness, the braver we become--the more willing we are to try something new or share some long-protected piece of ourselves (or at least consider sharing). With this in mind, I share two--very personal--pieces I recently created. [Click on the picture if you want a larger view.]

Namaste. (The light in me sees the light in you.)