If you’ve spent time with me in the classroom, you know that I open every offering with the following words:
All of you is welcome.
All of your identities, seen and unseen, known and unknown.
All of who you are is welcome.
All of HOW you are is welcome!
Your mood, however you’re showing up today.
Your body, heart, and mind, just as they are.
All of you is welcome.
(Even if you haven’t hung out with me, this may sound familiar: MNW student and former employee, Ellen Zocher, wrote about the power of this welcome in their lovely article HERE.)
As I repeat these powerful words, I feel them working on me. “Really?” I say in my head. “Surely you can’t mean ALL of me. Not my belly, my judgmental mind, my impatience.” And then I have to reassure myself: “No, actually I mean it. ALL of you.” It’s mind-blowing, that kind of welcome! It’s an ongoing part of my practice to offer it; I’m learning to receive it, too.
Lately, one of my unseen parts has been more and more insistent about wanting to come out. And I do mean come out. Yep: I’m queer! Before I met my life partner, Kent, I dated women and men. I spent a lot of time in the LGBTQIA community, working in advocacy and education.
When my sweetheart and I decided to commit, marriage equality had not yet arrived in Washington State, so we did not get legally married. I could just as easily have chosen to spend my life with a female partner. I chose not to get married because I didn’t want anything that part of me – and others in my community – couldn’t have.
Because I’m with a male partner, I can easily pass. So, why share this with you now?
First, because every time I do, I hear that it helps. Over the years I’ve come out to friends, family, coworkers, and strangers. Over and over again, people tell me, “Thank you. You being who you are made a space for me to be myself.” Even though it can feel awkward and vulnerable, I’ve come to trust this process. What better time than Pride Month to offer this support?
Second, it’s a good reminder that so much of who we are is not visible to others. This can be hard to remember, especially when things are tough. In MSC we’re encouraged to “Remember the Iceberg”: what’s visible about ourselves and others is just the tip of the iceberg. So much of what makes us US is hidden below the surface.
We might be caring for loved ones with disabilities. Getting sober. Going through a divorce. Starting a new career. Working with chronic pain. Recovering from trauma. Awaiting medical test results. Hoping to hear from a spouse who’s deployed. Navigating anxiety, depression, ADHD. And on and on and on. Miller Williams puts it beautifully in his poem Compassion:
Have compassion for everyone you meet,
even if they don’t want it. What seems conceit,
bad manners, or cynicism is always a sign
of things no ears have heard, no eyes have seen.
You do not know what wars are going on
down there where the spirit meets the bone.
Finally, it seems more important than ever to stand with folks in marginalized communities. Coming out is one small way I can align myself with the vulnerable rather than the privileged. As the meditation teacher Tuere Sala puts it, “We are living in a period of time where external chaos is being cultivated at a fever pitch level and here is where we have to take a stand for our practice.” In practice, we develop self-awareness, equanimity, compassion, and kindness. Now more than ever, we need our practice to nourish ourselves – and the world.
I’m so grateful to be in community with you, cultivating these qualities. May we continue to offer a warm welcome – to all parts of ourselves, and to everyone we meet.
Take good care,
Carolyn