Looking back at the start of the year, I definitely believed that 2020 was going to hold a tangible shift in the ways I not only show up for those in my community, but also more clarity in how I would show up for my own self. Never did I imagine 2020 unfolding as it has been for the first half of the year but as I enter into the last half, it feels like there’s more purpose in the ways I seek to uphold the spaces I find myself in.
These past few months, I have been refining and redefining the ways that I want to show up for those around me. It’s a struggle for me to sit in communities where there is no personal or collective growth; there is no real evidence of nurtured blooming among its gardeners, and a lack of unearthing the weeds that hinder a harvest of each member living out of his/her truest self. I so deeply want to revel in the beauty of seasons of blossoming stories rising up to the warmth of belonging along with the times of tilling the soil with my bare hands and removing what keeps our community sheltering in the dark and unknown.
It’s important we each take on the truth that change lies within us and this transformation should ripple outward into the communities we find ourselves in. We are the gardeners of our brave spaces and it’s our responsibility to water and nourish the foundations we are standing upon. There is a continual tilling and sifting out the narratives that have held its roots deep in the adoption community which has kept down and crippled so many resilient stories. The process of uprooting the weeds not only takes each gardener time, it also requires the gardener to get dirty and is labor intensive. We as gardeners in the triad should find ourselves with the tools set before us ready to do the work. Tools such as tenderness, grace, openness, attentiveness, acceptance and the humility to admit where our shortcomings have stunted growth. Creating brave spaces looks like investing into the stories that are rising up whether that be sitting at a table with listening ears or carrying the stories we hear into the other spaces, understanding that there is a real power behind uprising storytellers. It’s important that we excavate and pull apart what’s hindering our collective transformation and being thoughtful into where we plant our seeds for new harvest and a forthcoming bloom of stories that reflect the beautifully brave garden we each desire.
I’ve recently finished Untamed by Glennon Doyle and in her chapter on the importance of imagination she writes, “Each of us was born to bring forth something that never existed: a way of being, a family, an idea, art, a community…we are here to fully introduce ourselves, to impose ourselves and ideas and thoughts and dreams into the world, leaving it changed forever. By who we are and what we bring forth from our depths..we must unleash ourselves and watch the world reorder itself”. This divine imagination breeds the invitation into brave spaces. I want more for my community than safe spaces; I desire to create and uphold brave spaces. The difference to me is that I want more than safety; I want authenticity, transformation and reconciliation found within the relationships I find myself in. I want to call out the vulnerability that beckons the release of harmful narratives being carried for far too long into gentle healing. I want to bring forth the courage to sit in conflict and unease rather than running or hiding from it. This is the call to brave spaces for our collective stories to come sit and rest. I’ve witnessed the transformation of risen, courageous storytelling that gives way for the most awe inspiring, hope filled bloom that allows for our community to shine.
These spaces are not effortless nor should it be. It should require pieces of the depths of us to break the ground of safety and face the risk that many times keep us hidden. We must do this wisely friends, with a tangible gentleness as we navigate these uncharted waters. There’s a powerful resilience within storytelling which demands us to protect and honor our collective stories. There are brave spaces waiting for us to enter in, introduce ourselves and overwhelm with our fullness.
May the words written by Micky Scott Bey Jones call us into the new revolution of brave spaces,
“Together we will create brave spaces because there is no such thing as ‘safe spaces’- we exist in the real world, we all carry scars and we have all caused wounds. In this space we seek to turn down the volume of the outside world, we amplify voices that fight to be heard elsewhere, we call each other to more truth and love. We have the right to start somewhere and continue to grow. We have the responsibility to examine what we think we know. We will not be perfect, this space will not be perfect. It will not always be what we wish it to be but it will be our brave space together and we will work on it side by side”.
WRITTEN BY SHARDAY DUFRESNE
Sharday is a wife to one and mom to two residing along the southern coast of California. She is an early riser, daily coffee connoisseur, interior design enthusiast, and lover of all things fall. She is a transracial adoptee who is inviting that voice within to rise up storyteller and desires to champion and advocate for those in this triad community in hopes of adding more leaves and seats to our extended table to hear others stories rise up as well.
