Losing My Way.

Words, As Fruit #41 (So...I turned 40)

“you will find her always in one of two places. at home, or lost in wonder, finding her way.” — All Her Words

I have a thing for double entendres, a word or phrase that is open to two interpretations. Wander and wonder are what I’ll say are pseudo double entendres. Two words, different meaning, but when spoken can be mistaken for one another and have multiple interpretations.

A few years ago amidst processing a few major life transitions and changes I had someone remark on their perception of my mental and emotional space. They said, in an accusatory sort of way, “You seem lost”. And in the moment I felt shame. But the truth I have come to gracefully settle in is, there is nothing wrong with the periods of our lives within which we are lost, in wander, and wonder, finding our way.

In the fall of 2018, while journeying through a severe bout of depression, I birthed All Her Words, a digital place and space for us to see and seek ourselves. As I sifted through the all-too-many thoughts and reflections on this last decade of my life, I was brought back to words written for and about Her. Her is not a single woman or even person. Her is a voice, a composite of collective pieces, parts, and versions of self.

“she asks to be rooted. to be planted in ground rich enough to nourish her, solid enough to support her, even on the days when she is bent and buckling at the knees.

she asks to be rooted, and so she begins to shed, and the shedding allows her to see there are pieces of her, dead or dying, that she has not let go. parts of her past selves that still hang clinging, and so she learns to open, and release the weight that sinks her. release the weight so that the roots needed to anchor her have a weightless kind of space within which to grow.

she asks to be rooted, and so she learns how to both free herself, and fasten to her own ground.” — All Her Words

A few weeks before officially stepping into this 40th year, I journaled this reflection:

Lost does not always mean ‘without’ — without faith, without trust, without wisdom, without direction, without knowing. Even as I have been lost I carry with me faith, wisdom and trust. Perhaps the lostness is really the journey of re-discovery, and re-direction. The journey of remembering.

“sometimes we can’t just ‘remember who you are’ because we haven’t been this version yet.’ haven’t been this soft and this resilient, this tender and supple variety of in between. strange and unfamiliar, uncertain and still deeply sure. this rough and this thick and gracefully entangled, this, this, and still that. all pieces and still whole. heavy and light. honest and unraveled. uprooted and still held. wandering and belonging. content and still longing.

sometimes we can’t just ‘remember who we are’ because we are in the process of creating the memory.” — All Her Word

There’s an African proverb which I’ve been coming back to lately, “To get lost is to learn the way". At 40 I can honestly, and proudly say that I have been lost for more years than I have known the way.

At 40 my loudest and soundest truth is the wild and magnificent realization that I am still learning who I am.

I am not a woman who has, “found herself”.

I am a woman wandering. A woman uncovering and discovering the things all the women in me seem to know but I am still growing in understanding.

I am a woman learning her own garden and ground. Affirming her own worth and value. A woman still grounding in the knowing that who she is, and what she has been gifted, is not just enough but more than.

I am a woman expanding and navigating the watery depths of Love, forgiveness, compassion and grace.

I am a woman writing through the epic saga that is grieving and letting go.

I am a woman divorcing herself from her own fears, not because they are not real but because she cannot build homes there.

I am a woman living beneath the light of other suns and floating between the shadows her own.

I am not a woman who has found herself. I am a woman unraveling and coming undone.

A woman surrendering to her own valleys so that she is able to see the way to her peaks.

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Cheers to blissful wondering, losing, finding, and learning the way.

And, for anyone witnessing those journeying, please hold us with kindness, consider us with care, and delight with us in the wondery.

— ẹniafẹ isis