Do your steps feel heavy?

Have you ever had a conversation with someone...one of those "let me just spill all of my junk out all over the table" conversations....and in the middle of the conversation, ...you realize that it brings you great joy? Not joy like "geez, i'm glad i'm not that messed up" or joy like " finally God gave him what was comin" ...but a different kind of joy. A joy that I believe is often undiscovered in this day and age where we keep to ourselves and look to the scarred lives of reality television as a model to justify our standard of living.

Today I had what I like to call an authentic conversation. I call it authentic because we didn't talk about the weather, the steelers, or even how much we are looking forward to seeing the season premiere of LOST....! It was authentic in the fact that my friends and I talked about the things that burdened our hearts. The very things that pulled and weighed on us to the point that our beings seemed to smear on the floor behind us. Now, typically these kinds of conversations would send me spiraling into a depression that only 14 hours of sleep, a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chubby Hubby, and at least 1 season of The Office could fix. But this time it was different. This time I found myself in the middle of the conversation having an overwhelming feeling of what I can only explain as pure joy! Joy? Now before you start judging me like a stylish male barista at Starbucks...give me a second to explain! As I sat there splattered with the stench of my friends' honesty...it gave me joy...because it made me realize that I am not alone. I bought into the lie that my junk separates me from the rest of the world. I began to believe that my junk was unique in the fact that it was...well, uglier than most. But we all have our junk...it may seem that others around us don't...but that's not true. They've just gotten really good at covering it up with their dark eyeliner, picture-perfect jump-shot, or big screen T.V. We all have our junk but we hide it. That's why I see the world hang it's head. The world sits with a slouch, because instead of sharing our burdens, we hold our breath, bite our tongue, and force a smile.

Today I experienced joy. I realized that I am not alone. I was reminded that I am surrounded by those who love me enough to ask about me instead of the weather. And it seems as though my footsteps got a lot less heavier! When was the last time you had an authentic conversation? When was the last time you spilled a little bit of your junk for the world to see?

for you......

well,... this is proving to be more difficult than i thought it would be. As I sit here drinking my extra bold starbucks italian roast from my new frech press, I can't help but search my mind of all the amazing memories i'm leaving with. The once-in-a-lifetime trips, the extreme laughing that made you sore the next morning, the eyes of the ones you were serving, and the conversations...man, the conversations. If there is anything I will miss the most...it's the conversations. Sitting knee to knee, eye to eye, and sharing stories. Stories of love and love lost. Stories of mountain top victories and rock bottom mistakes. Just stories...raw, unfiltered, this-is-the-way-it-is stories. I love those conversations! I think the reason I love them so much is because I get to see you. Not just the you that everybody knows, but you. YOU! The you that you only let a few select see. The you that hides behind your walls. The walls that have been forged over the years of self-discovery. The walls that have remained steady over the years of abuse. The walls that seem so strong and unpenetrable unitl you make the decision, as weary as you may be, to open and let someone in to discover what truly lies behind them and hope they don't abuse it. You... i've gotten to see a lot of you. And I know I don't have the power to counter all your cynicism, or mend all your breaks, or wipe all of your tears...but the privilege to see you for you has been an honor. Thank you for letting me be one of the chosen to see behind the mask or the plastic smiles. Thank you for trusting me with your inner-most fears. Thank you for being you....! And though I may go and seem far away...I carry you with me. I remember you. And now I beg you...do it again. This world hungers for authenticity. It is starving for the genuine. It craves the realness that you hold behind the ramparts of your heart. Don't be afraid...hope in the things to come...it's not about you.