the stories we share

This week I wanted to share a story about how much courage to share my darkest story I've gotten by working on this project.


Today, I had a customer at the coffee shop I work at strike up conversation about her coworker whose sister just passed, leaving them understaffed because of her leave of absence . I instantly was able to relate to her and bring in my compassion for her, because I lost my sister as well and know how much that can crush someone. We also shared about her own sibling loss, 'cause it turns out she lost her brother at age 36. We were able to talk about how preventable both of their deaths were, her brother died due to aids and my sister died due to suicide. I usually don't talk about my experience with my sister, mostly because I don't want to dampen people's day with news of a death, and because I feel like a certain level of trust is usually present before diving into the darkest parts of one's life. In fact, was second customer I've ever about my sister in depth with since the three years she's been gone. But working on 1100 miles with TAOGOI has given me just enough peace with my predicament that I feel I can open up and talk about it, because I've done work to process it and integrate it.




This helped me to see a different side to a customer I've been speaking to for months. It also allows a side of myself to be seen and heard, out in the open air of relationships. I am so at peace with the way I am coming to terms with my pains and losses and stories, and can see how liberating it is to live within your own story and share it with others. To be known and seen is a great opportunity.

I just want to leave you with the prompt to reflect on what parts of yourself are not seen and heard and how would it benefit you to process and share those stories, through art, writing, journaling, poetry, talking, or dance! I would love to be a Witness to those parts of your story, please feel free to comment or message us with your findings. Here is a photo of my sister and I reading poetry to our family before she died.


Much love,

Abby


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