Dare to Belong

In her eyes, there was an invitation to see her…

to be seen…

to share a moment of mutual delight.

I met this woman in a shop in Quito, Equator.

Poking my head in, I saw the walls covered with the most wonderful hand-stitched tablecloths- every colour you could think of - a collage of joy that left me feeling like a guest at a family celebration.

As she sat on the wooden chair on the stoop I could not stop looking at her. Her very essence matched the abundance I had just seen inside.

She had beckoned me over in a way that invited me into her world. Her focus was never on introducing me to the goods in the shop, but rather on sharing a happy exchange.

I felt drawn into a connection …

Shopkeeper to customer.

Seeker to wise woman?

Gypsy-soul to gypsy-soul?

Who knows?

Despite my desire to communicate with her, anything beyond miming that I loved the beautiful colours was beyond my vocabulary so, in the end, a little flustered, I simply asked to take her picture.

She nodded,

smiled,

and then really smiled.

I honestly don’t know what adorns her more, her necklace or those laugh lines around her eyes. Both embellish the warm energy that tumbles out. I took the picture, returned her smile and then, in the same way that you can be surprised by a burp, I threw back my head in a whole-hearted, “I love this world” laugh. She joined me and then waved her hand at my head with a benevolent blessing. I left feeling like we had managed the conversation after all.

That was years ago, and I still think of her smile.

What I am struck by is how generous she was in that moment. I don’t know what kind of life she had led. I don’t know what self-talk plagued her, if she mourned her lost youth or how she judged herself on a good day or a bad one.

But whatever reasons she could have found for being guarded or defensive when meeting a stranger, she didn’t go there. Instead, she left the veil aside and simply let me in.

Gifting me with the greatest generosity of spirit;

There she was, open, authentic, unguarded.

When are my unguarded moments?

Oh ya, take a photo of me and you’ll immediately see the skin tighten beside my eyes in a reflex akin to a lizard’s. I am suddenly thinking about who you are seeing while you look through the lens instead of who I was being such that you thought you should take a picture in the first place. In an effort to hide and not be so vulnerable I find the right “pose” for you. I hold my head and smile…? and I take a pretty good photo.

What do I hide?

Oh, you name it… I don’t want to seem egotistical- so I don’t show my gifts. I don’t want to seem silly – so I don’t show my quirks. I don’t want to seem too artsy, intellectual, wishy-washy, old, emotional, airy-fairy, plump, self-important, not-in-control …(okay, the list goes on, but you get the point…). The point is I’ve been trained not to let you see those things, so I manipulate who you see. And in doing so I close the door.

But here’s the thing, people have to see you in order to welcome you in.

Since that day, I have practiced allowing myself to be seen – to show up with the ultimate gift- an offering of generosity and authenticity. By inviting you in for a cup of tea with my soul, I extend the true invitation of community and connection.

So I try to stay present as I say “cheese”, to hold your eye contact across the table, to engage in your conversation and if I don’t speak your language, to share my heart in a smile.

See what you will. In letting myself be seen, I have found the gateway to belonging.

As only wise women can do, this woman gave me a sense of instant connection and the lesson of a lifetime; When you smile, throw the door wide open and dare to belong.

Tania