Monday, August 18, 2014
It's a round table. Beautifully set, with lovely linen napkins and shining silverware. I'm mostly aware of the napkins and silver -- but the rest of the picture includes beautiful china, on chargers, a tablecloth, and fresh flowers in shades of white and light green -- including lilies, hydrangea, and roses. Perhaps the roses would be a deep burgundy.
The food is not on the table. Its the place setting and the beauty of the arrangement that is critical.
There is a place at this table for each part of me --- all my thoughts, developmental orphans, my body, and those body parts of myself that I do not always like to own. Feelings and needs that I have marginalized. Sassy parts. Hurt parts. Scared parts, of course. Courageous and strong parts.
No more hiding. Or circuitous attempts to get my needs met.
"Everyone" is welcome at this (my) table. No one will be left out and everyone will get what they need.
I've been preparing a long time. Not so long ago I couldn't even imagine that I would want to do this or be so welcoming to all of myself.
Like, wow. Long way to go. I'm sure there will be table talk . . . .