Leaning In

I tilt. Sometimes in pictures it looks as though I am purposefully tilting my head to show I care or am leaning in towards a person. I just went on a trip to Israel without my husband, who normally would be next to me in pictures, so when I saw pictures of me alone, I was again reminded of how crooked I am.

Wounding words from a friend crossed my mind in the middle of the night this week more than once. She was more of an acquaintance, I suppose, and it was decades ago. "Every time I see you, I want to jerk you to the side to straighten you out," she said, as I made my way to a picnic table in our church's nursery playground area. Her words startled me, the strength of them, the emotion in them.

I explained to her I have scoliosis and had surgery to correct it but that the spinal curve was severe and could only be straightened so much. I spoke with a wobbly voice. I spoke apologetically for apparently causing her so much distress each time she looked at me. My head knew she was inappropriate, but my heart once again felt I was less than OK.

I think I am thinking about this because there are situations and people I would like to, with one swift movement, instantly straighten out, situations and people that aren't what I think they should be. And maybe they are crooked and wrong and less than perfect and not OK.

I just know when I am living in a place of "look how wrong I am," I am also living in a place of "look how wrong you are." Faults in myself and others become a source of irritation. But when I am living in a place of "look how loved I am," I am also living in a place of "look how loved you are."

And that's a better place, a place I want to live from,
a place I want to lean into.