Feeling Inspired to Honour My Purpose as a Truthteller

I thought I was going to write about yoga as a healing practice this month, but as it turns out there are more pressing things on my mind.

I’ve just returned home to Riyadh after a three-week, whirl-wind trip to Canada to reconnect with family and friends after two long years apart. When I say whirl-wind, it is a bit of an understatement. There were so many emotional events, from over-the-moon joy to heart-breaking pain. It all started off when a web of lies was uncovered that splintered the trust I thought I had in one of my most treasured relationships, and to be honest, I’m still reeling.

On the long plane journey home, it struck me how little acknowledgement I received around my work, particularly around the release of my novel, The Healing. As I processed my disappointment, that instead of celebrations, I received hurt feelings or no mention at all, my first reaction was to criticize myself. I thought that, moving forward, I needed to tone it down. I’d been feeling excited to get back to editing The Holding, the prequel that is in progress, but suddenly I felt uncertain if I should even continue with my project at all. And then, by some beautiful act of serendipity, I chose to listen to a podcast that changed everything.

The interview I chose was Episode 209, Show up Before You’re Ready, from Elizabeth Gilbert’s Magic Lessons. She was talking with author and activist Glennon Doyle Melton. These two strong, amazing women reminded me of my purpose as a writer; to be a truthteller. Their conversation had me called to action, to recommit to my intention to speak my truth regardless of the blowback, knowing I’m not responsible for anyone else’s feelings but my own. 

During the course of their discussion, there were so many epiphanies for me. I recognized that I whatever I’ve written that has felt sticky for my family was only a spotlight to truth, to things still not processed and unresolved in our relationships; skeletons from the past, uncovered. I realized there was an invitation inside of the discomfort, which led me to a broader understanding of this issue as it manifests on a global scale. How we as people often turn away from uncomfortable issues, thinking that in avoiding them they’ll go away, but they rarely do. When the pain remains, we try to soothe ourselves with temporary band-aid solutions, with material pleasures, alcohol, drugs, food and sex. The issue remains and becomes a part of our cells, which transforms into disease and addiction. We create our own suffering.

I loved Glennon’s metaphor for God as the Inviter, who provides countless, endless invitations or opportunities to move past the false images of ourselves that we present to one another and even try to fool ourselves into believing. I resonated when she spoke about how these invitations held the possibility of discovering the deeper truth of who we really are.

When Glennon spoke about how, through honesty, truth, curiosity and compassion, we can wade through the anger and self-hatred to discover our true selves; children of God, tears formed in my eyes as I felt the truth of her words. She described a way forward where we change our direction from trying to be right to trying to find truth.

It isn’t easy. In my experience, these pivotal moment invitations are really, really hard to accept. They require incredible courage. But as Elizabeth Gilbert says, “Go back in.” Or, in Glennon Doyle’s words, “Stay open.” Listen to the voice inside you that knows what to do, that knows who you are and what you need, that knows why you are here. The voice that is in alignment with your true purpose.

I resonated with Glennon’s sentiment, that she isn’t willing to spend any more time in life betraying herself. I agreed with her, and suddenly I knew that I had to speak my truth even when it makes other people uncomfortable, angry or hurt. We truthtellers have to find the courage to allow them their feelings and their responses, to not take it personally. We don’t need to quiet down or stop shining our light. Truth is the opportunity to see one another clearly and accept one another for who we are, even when we disagree.

We all have different perspectives, varied versions of truth. It is a beautiful outcome of our diversity of self and experience. I can share my truth without it negating yours. We don’t need to determine who is right or wrong, because that isn’t the point. It isn’t a competition. We’re all in this together.

Moving forward, we all need to make space for one another to thrive and stop trying to tell one another what that looks like. We need to love and respect one another, trusting that God created everything with a purpose, that everyone and everything matters. Who are we to question the Divine design? Surely God’s wisdom surpasses anything we human beings might stumble upon.

I know, it’s the same rant I’ve voiced before, a different version. The red tulip in the field of yellow. The wisdom of trauma, the angels, the healing energy of open, honest and vulnerable connection. Perhaps you’re all getting tired of it, but here’s the thing; we’re still judging! And I include myself in this statement. It’s such a powerful narrative. But I won’t back down in my pursuit to replace criticism with curiosity.

Coming full circle, to my family’s hurt feelings, I get that I have an opportunity to view that from a place of compassion. I can remind myself, their hurt feelings are reflections of the pain trapped inside of them. Instead of being angry or hurt, I choose love. 

I’d like to end with an inspirational story of my time in Victoria, BC. I asked my family to come together in sacred ceremony. Five of us accepted the invitation. We opened by listening to Trevor Hall’s song, “You Can’t Rush Your Healing.” You might want to download and take a listen; it set a loving, compassionate tone that fueled our ability to share our hearts and support one another. We each lit a candle and spoke a piece of our truth. Then we joined hands in a circle of love that felt for me like waves of healing energy pulsing through my veins. When we were ready to rejoin the world, I felt lighter, stronger. Ready to move forward, honouring myself and my purpose. A storyteller who writes from the heart.

So yeah, I’m feeling inspired to Honour my Purpose as a Truthteller.