It's hard to let go. But sometimes, if we let our body lead us, letting go is natural. Even easy. Sometimes, there's a tipping point of possibility. That moment when we know, in an unspoken way, that the way forward is over there. That way. A new way. And we begin to pave that path.
When you know it's time, your body tells you long before your mind.
And so it was with my local WYSH shop, the brick-and-mortar studio I opened up 3 years ago. I cleared it out, with the help of our friends, this past weekend. WYSH needed to spread its wings. We simply outgrew our little 600 square-foot space. It bubbled with love and activity, footsteps and voices, music and color, laughter, tears, beautiful treasures and some inspired originals.
The little box of a space is now empty.
It wasn't an easy choice. We each tend to keep our treasures close to our chest. In defense of holding on, I had created a inspiring, colorful, place of positivity and possibility in that little space. WYSH's 9 pillars of positivity, themes writ large in hand-painted banners (by my husband), seemed to hold down the fort with a kind of tall and humble majesty.
Thousands of people said they felt transported to another world upon entry. I watched as their faces drained of stress and their eyes filled with wonder. People would read the walls out loud, sometimes under their breath, often to themselves. Words everywhere. Connection. Intuition. Trust. Trust your gut. Authenticity. I am who I am. Freedom. Free spirit. Empowerment. Know your story. Love. Love doesn't spoil Respect. Don't squash my spirit. Empathy. Put yourself in my booties.
Customer sent their photos to us...
People told their stories. Shared them with me when they didn't expect to. Expressed their regrets or longings or wishes or needs or worries. It wasn't therapy. It was the powerful interplay of meaning space and context, how visual inspiration, powerful words and compassion can co-create a safe haven, have an effect on our psyche and our physiology...how the shared space of connection elicits an urge within us to make meaning from our experience.
In defense of holding on, WYSH has always been a portal to connection. Relationships are who we are. We make meaning together. I met so many people over the past three years inside the walls of that little space, people who "needed to come in," they said, who felt "drawn" to the place, who, once inside, felt moved by a phrase, a mantra, an uplifting message, a kind of safety, a palpably positive energy, a truth that spoke to their heart.
It has been a place of movement, of sound, of sensory delight, of grateful hugs and, sometimes, delightfully unanticipated freebies. Take this. Take one of those. Like the family visiting from out West. Their college bound son was off to school last year to study...opera. I gave him the 16 by 20 promotional poster I had rolled up in the back of the shop. "This is for you to put on your dorm room wall," I said.
He unfurls it, holds it up, his arms stretched vertically, like a town crier announcing the day's news:
HAVE A VOICE RISE ABOVE THE NOISE.
He was over the moon. His family awww'd in unison. We were all awed in unison. All a little awestruck with how much meaning we can conjure together in a spontaneous minute.
There was the group of girls celebrating a birthday, whose voices filled WYSH with song and laughter and stories...
There was the little boy who chose the winter knit beanie with the white embroidered phrase on the folded flap over on the forehead. "I like what it says," he said. "Mom, what does 'Learn it. Live it.' mean?" And they huddled for a moment, whispering the meaning of the mantra and he smiled, his eyes focused on the mental picture his mother was painting.
And father who bought his four year-old the little t-shirt that said" "Hang up and talk with me." Not for her to remember. But for him. And then needed a shirt for his son who he said was a "holy terror." And after fifteen minutes of lunchtime parenting support, in the form of sharing some science on child development and the growing brain, changed his perception of his boy from terror to understanding. He chose a little black tee for his one year-old son that said: "Fearless."
The stoic teen girl who chose "Been there, not doing that anymore." after finally closing the door on a terrible case of bullying that nearly drained her of every morsel of hope and confidence but instead bolstered her resilience and taught her the meaning of self-love.
The energetic woman who dashed in one day and said she "needed" the tank top in the window that said "Bring it on." Because today, she said, was the one year anniversary of her double mastectomy and she is free and clear. And, yes, bring it on. Right now.
And the grieving mother who lost her beautiful adult daughter to a rare form of cancer. She came in looking for inspiration. Something to look up to. Toward. Forward. She found a bracelet that said simply "STRENGTH." WYSH gifted it to her. I held her hand and looked in her eyes and said, "You embody this word. Live it forward and show the world what strength is by showing up and looking up and standing up." We hugged in silence. I held her in my arms, without knowing anything about her. A few months later, she walked back in and her eyes were dancing. "I touch my word every day," she said. "I look at it and I feel the power of it in me. I feel good."
We all want and need to feel good. It's our birthright to know joy. It's in our biology to derive joy from feeling deeply connected, both to ourselves and others. To our passions and by expressing our gifts, feeling the joy of being in "flow," in the zone, and discovering our potential in the moment, not some distant future.
I love cultivating connection. Wonder too. It's important to me that we are alive to thrive, not just survive, and that we use our lives in service of helping others recognize and realize the pathways to their own thriving. The difference between enduring the ride and enjoying the ride.
I have tried, humbly, in any way I could, to be a beacon for others, for whomever I've had the privilege to meet through WYSH. Countless wonderful people who, like me, needed an ear, a hand, a boost, a gentle affirmation, a reminder of their inherent goodness, a re-framing, a not-so-random act of kindness.
"I needed that today."
"I am so glad I walked in here today."
"I didn't know how much I needed to share how I was feeling."
"I didn't realize how much I've been carrying around without wanting to feel it."
"I feel so much hope and excitement right this minute. I have to hold onto this feeling."
I've been lucky to meet them all. The woman who was newly widowed after decades of marriage to her best friend. Another newly divorced who wasn't sure how she was going to navigate the road ahead. Another newly fired who defined herself by what she did and now wonders who she is. Another newly hired filled with fear and anxiety and possibility. Emotions from the highest peaks to the darkest chasms. Every conversation a treasure for both of us. Every moment an opportunity to hold space for someone, for another human being who needed to feel seen and heard and known and valued.
The father whose daughter's new husband died a week after their wedding. His heart was so broken for her. When I asked him how he coped with all the stress and pain, he said he worked every day with the anticipation of getting home to play with his other daughter--his grown, adult daughter--who was paralyzed. "She's my joy," he told me. It helped him be strong for his other daughter, his family, himself.
The lovely couple who came in on a whim and stayed for an hour talking with me about their hopes and dreams, their past mistakes in previous relationships, their regrets, their fears and I stood with them, getting to know them, and offered some moments of re-framing, of recalibrating perceptions and beliefs, and watched as their eyes welled and their body language shifted. Smiles of recognition for all of us. We all needed the re-frame. The chance meeting that seemed synchronistically designed.
The older gentleman who mentored women who had struggled with recovery and homelessness. He liked the t-shirt that says, "Maybe I just need a hug." Why did he feel called? He has narrowly escaped death on the operating table. He had lost touch with his own son. He wanted to be of service. His smile told a thousand stories of getting back up after he had fallen.
The customers who came back again and again. Who became friends. First names. Who filled their homes and offices with WYSH, with the words and themes and ideas that spoke most deeply to them.
We started our WYSH workshops in our little space, our knees practically touching as we all leaned in to learning and expanding our perceptions. The workshops grew and grew and the space heard our stories. I have met wonderful women in these gatherings...and they have met each other.
In defense of holding on, I didn't know when or how to let go. So much energy had been invested, so much sweat equity, giddy anticipation and hard work. My husband's dedicated hands and carpentry. My friends' cheerleading and stalwart support of WYSH's wishes. Our little WYSH studio was a portal for people, for me. It was a world where goodness prevailed. Walls of wonder and wisdom where people came in and shared their hearts and bared their souls, and some, of course, clicked their boots through and left without saying a word. No worries.
But, I've realized this. When we are in defense of holding on, we hold back, sometimes, from what we can discover when we do muster the courage to let go. To trust in it. Energy and joy--or "enerjoy," as I call it--are not containable entities. They don't need walls and a ceiling. They thrive best when allowed to grow wings.
My wise friend Rhonda told me WYSH is not what's inside four walls, but the energy I (we all) created that always exists. She also suggested we make some wings for WYSH. After I laughed and squealed with delight, I vowed I'd do it. My husband drew, cut and affixed them.
WYSH got wings.
And now, we fly.
Workshops and wisdom and beautiful inspirational books, art and other reminders...coming soon to a city, neighborhood, village, yoga center, living space near you.
Just holler. We'll be there.
Thank you for growing incredibly beautiful community...
Let's keep it growing strong.
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