Transformation It is the word that comes to mind when visualizing a butterfly finally breaking out of the cocoon to spread its beautifully colored wings. It is what happens to the planet when the sun breaks through the darkness and glistens upon the ocean. It is the baby who breaks out of the safe haven of the womb to be introduced to the rest of their lives. But we must remember that transformation begins in the unknown, in darkness and faith is the only ingredient to get us to the beauty of the promised land.
It is in the breaking though…and that is not how we envision transformation, but it is absolutely how we must experience transformation.
Shattered. Through my tears, I cleaned up the broken glass from the mug I just threw to the floor. As the glass was up in the air, I could hear a voice inside of me screaming, “nooooo”. The last time I broke anything on purpose, it was the summer of sixth grade when my cousin, Byron, stood across from me promising to spray me with bleach. I had thrown the glass to scare him, but only ended up hurting myself. I have a scar in the middle of the top of my foot. This time was honestly not much different. I was at my wits end feeling unheard, feeling unseen, and experiencing frustrating I believed I should have surpassed by now. I thought the stress and the strain that engulfed me would soon consume me. I had not encountered this level of stress, frustration, and worry financially since requesting a loan modification for my house while working on Capitol Hill. There were so many almosts, but no breakthroughs. I could see and almost taste the promised land, but I couldn’t touch it. How could this be? My age, my experience, my exposure, my profile means I should have arrived by now.
I am the textbook definition of a fixer. I have chosen careers where I could put out fires and problem solve. My big brother, Gary Flowers, would say, “you have good instincts” and I know that. I often wonder if the path I chose meant leaning into vigilance and hyper vigilance as I learn more about my nervous system. I could navigate from crisis to crisis with ease, but finding my peace? That’s a road less traveled—and if I am brutally honest, a scary one! I can usually count on my gifts of discernment and intuition, but this time was different. It was too dark a time for me to navigate using my natural gifts. There was no crisis to manage because it was visible for all to see. There was nothing I could do, but cry out for the help I truly needed. I was too emotionally exhausted to fix it.
I think: “This is not what freedom is supposed to look OR feel like.”
Really? Says who? Every freedom journey is marked with a transformation that does not feel good.
The distant voice inside screaming no was my ego. She’s a form of me, but the distinction had to be clear. Not to allow for separation, but for me to see that the ego self is destructive as my leader. There is time for a destruction and it is not now…
In the moment, I saw myself on the floor. I saw myself shattered in a million pieces of varying shapes and sizes. I saw myself cracked open and no longer in control. I couldn’t hold myself together and looking at all the pieces, I was overwhelmed by the fact that that I also couldn’t put myself together again. Free? Perhaps.
As I sat on the floor in the corner curled up like a wounded child, with all the lights on, but it still felt like the darkest season of my life. Every plan AND its contingency came to a screeching halt. I mourned the loss of my having it togetherness. There was no do for me. All that remained was the be that called out to me for so long. How can I be? Isn’t it irresponsible for me to be still in a storm like this? Little Angela (my wounded inner child) was present needing to feel safe in this, almost forced, vulnerability—in this exposure. The answer was so clear: to continue down this path, in the same way, will yield the exact same results. So, I sat there and did not move until I could be at peace with the present and accept my current state. It was in that “naked and unashamed” moment that about the freedom that comes from transformation. I will never be the same. That’s a miracle. AND I am grateful.
A difficult truth is loss brings about transformation. In the middle of a season of loss, it can often feel dark, heavy, oooh and tender! I have a plant in my house (stay with me) who I named Teresa. Teresa has big full leaves with volume (she’s giving Dominican salon blow out vibes). She had to get her dead ends trimmed and did not react well. She was comfortable holding on to the ends of her leaves—browned and dead—because they were hers and they made her feel comfortable. Teresa rebelled after the pruning. She started shedding the healthiest parts of herself because making space for what is new was uncomfortable. Many of us are no different, we rebel against what is in our best interest because the stretch beyond our comfort zone is too scary and feels unsafe! That, my friends, is what it means to transform and it is the only way to achieve personal freedom.
Transformation does not just take practice, it takes faith. The kind of faith that allows us to drop peacefully into what is…trusting the change is upon us even we cannot see.
AFFIRM: I am not afraid of the dark.
Sending you all the love, joy, freedom, justice, and power you can stand.
Righteously and cheerfully,
