To Beautifully Belong

The greatest of human contentment is found not in the world around us but within ourselves - in a deep self-peace that is reflected within the beauty of truly knowing that we are enough just as we are. Knowing that we truly belong. Knowing that it is the very uniqueness of our journey that gives meaning to every breath we are given. 

Realizing such contentment and self-peace is a continuous journey. And at times, one that can be painful to endure and filled with adversity. We are in constant search of finding where it is we belong – questioning the beauty within every breath we are gifted. We unknowingly cling to distraction and immerse ourselves in the world’s chaos - a means in which allows us to live blindly within our own lives and avoid looking inwardly at the state of our own selves. Allowing us to numbly exist all while sacrificing our beautiful and authentically unique spirits. We cling to the stability of chaos and distraction - never able to find the place of quieted true contentment within ourselves, scared and unable to see the beauty in our own unique journeys.

A Quiet Stillness

As I sit beneath the expansive summer sky my mind wanders as it often does. There’s a sting of sadness that often surfaces when I’m left alone in such a quiet state of mind. It’s the silent side of CF. It is a plague unto my mind and heart when all is still. It appears when I am not consumed by the world’s chaos and engulfed in my own subconsciously created distractions – every minute given to something other than myself as a way to deny my own reality and cope with an ever–growing discontentment created by CF.

There’s a quiet stillness about this summer in comparison to other summers. Or, maybe I am just seeing my own reflection a bit differently in this season of life– acutely aware of time, purpose, and contentment. In such quietness lies an intense restlessness. A restlessness that is knowingly rooted in the silent side of CF and the uncertainty it perpetually stirs within the deepest parts of my being. It’s a restlessness born of stillness, the passing of time, inevitable change, and the uncontrollable circumstances of my unique journey with CF. But most of all, it’s a restlessness that disrupts my inner peace- making me question where it is I belong and the beauty of this unique journey I’ve been gifted.

Beautifully Enough

As times passes I realize more and more how different all of our journeys are. And seemingly I realize just how lonely this road less traveled can be. There’s something special in the sharing of what is familiar between people- an unspoken bond and deepness. It gives a reassuring sense of belonging and understanding. The pang of sadness comes not in living this unique journey I’ve been given with CF and all that comes with it, but it comes in knowing I will never fully share life in the same way with dear friends and family. The sadness comes when I realize that my journey will always seem so very different. So, I do my best to quiet this restlessness. Not by immersing myself amidst distracting chaos like I desperately try to do so often, but by sharing my honest self and most of all, listening. Hoping to vibrantly live and experience life not only through my own unique journey but through the beautifully different journeys of all those who fill my life.

I look to the summer sky and breathe in the warm air of my favorite season, a wash of reassuring contentment fills my quieted soul. 

Life fills my soul. 

In a brief renewing moment I am reminded that it is in our own uniqueness that we truly belong. That self-peace is found within the most honest parts of who we are – rooted in gratitude for the life we have each been given. Rooted in knowing we are beautifully enough just as we are. Rooted in the truth that it is through sharing each of our different journeys we truly live and experience the beauty in every breath. Love to you all.

Take a deep breath and look to today's summer sky. Fill your soul with the peace of knowing you are truly enough and this unique journey you've been gifted is breathtakingly beautiful. 

The Gift of Sight

Gifts come in many different forms and often by means we do not expect. But, in everything there is beauty – we just have to see it.

As I looked down at you, beneath my breath was an abundance of tears I dare note let overtake me.  Within every tiny breath I saw the most perfect grace. A grace I could only hope to share with you through my loving arms that held you. I love you already because you are a mere tiny reflection of the dearest people who fill my heart.

I take a long and slow breath as to keep the tears and torrent of emotion from overwhelming me. I think to myself, “I thought I might never get to see this day.” And I close my eyes and whisper the words, “thank you” – stitching them upon the breath of a silent prayer.

This scenario and these words have resonated within me many times in the past year, each time with even more gratitude to be present and alive.  Each time, wanting more desperately to hold that moment and its beauty in my hands forever. Each time realizing what a true gift I’ve been given.  There are few more cherished and treasured moments in my life than these occasions. I relish in these moments and my heart and mind wander down a path of remembrance. A place where the deepest appreciation lives for the beauty that fills my life and the grace that has brought me to this very moment. A place in which I know could be so very different or cease to even exist at all.  

A Priceless Gift

Cystic Fibrosis may remind me daily of the things it has stolen and dares to rip from my life, but CF has also given me something so very priceless. It’s given me the gift of sight – an awareness that grounds me to the beauty that lives within every breath and fills every moment. The gift of sight that opens me to a world many do not take the time to see and appreciate. It’s hidden beneath the fullness and chaos of our busy lives. It gets lost beneath what seems ordinary.

But I truly see so very much – and it is a gift. 

What I See

In this life I may not have been given the gift and title of being called, “mom” (at least by something that’s not covered in fur, barks, and walks on four legs), but I’ve been given a gift so very beautiful in its own right. I have watched my dearest of friends become mothers. I’ve watched my friends grow in the most beautiful and honest of ways. There were several times in the past couple of years that I feared I would not be here to witness such a thing – making each of these moments more special beyond words. 

As I look down at you, I see your tiny delicate fingers and hands – so full of unassuming possibility. I see the gift you are to all those who will love you. I think of your beautiful mom and the irreplaceable gift she is in my own life and what a gift it is to see her be your mom. The world is yours, little one - breathe bravely.

Love to all the beautiful and impactful women who have shaped each of us into the people we are today.

An Imperfect Struggle

[Part II of "The Artistry of Being Honest"]

Beauty is not defined by the perception of others but is defined by what we see in ourselves. But often, it is we, ourselves, who are most critical and most blind to our own unique beauty. We fall short of our own expectation of such things– seeing only what makes us different as ghastly markings of our insignificance and unchangeable and uncontrollable imperfections.

A Change of Beauty

For as long as I can remember I’ve been perceptive to the definition of beauty and how I have failed to meet my perceived self-standard. My earliest memories are filled with an innate awareness of how I was different than those around me. My childhood memories are woven within the reflection I saw of myself in my brother and the devastating disease of CF. Outwardly, I noticed how my brother’s hands and fingers were different than our family’s. I saw how his chest was broad and barreled - his ribcage seemingly too large for his tiny frame. I noticed that his cough set everyone on edge. I noticed how it tore through the world’s natural chaos like a knife tearing through paper.

I began to notice with every passing year that too, my own hands looked more and more different. That too, my ribcage seemed too large for the frame of my body. That too, my legs and arms seemed so bony and thin. I noticed how my own cough would bring upon unwanted attention and alarm, highlighting the very part of myself I was trying to conceal. With every passing moment I noticed these uncontrollable changes becoming more glaringly distinct - each a hideous reminder of what made me different.

Imperfections

I recall moments I’d look at my reflection as a child and wish nothing more than to look and be like everyone else - moments in which I felt truly alone and different. I wish I could say as the years passed those feelings diminished but they only grew, consuming me from within. I fiercely tried to cling to what I could control as the ugly truth of CF became more and more visible. I’d wear clothes to hide the shape of my body. I’d hold my breath and inwardly fight the relentless scratch in the back of my throat and rumble within my lungs that wanted to unleash a fit of coughing. Yet, the more I tried to conceal and control of CF, the more I saw its imperfections staring back at me. Those uncontrollable realities of CF imprinted into my being and mocking me through my own eyes, constantly reminding me of how I was different - making me see myself as anything but beautiful. Those unyielding reminders still plague me and forever will.

The precious time I spend giving thought to the size of my ribcage, my gecko fingers, my puffy steroid cheeks, and piercing cough, strips me of the freedom to immerse myself into every beautiful breath that comes from within. It steals a moment of my life that instead could reflect the true meaning of beauty and replaces it with destructive and depleting anxieties. Some days do those surmounting anxieties and realities seem unbearable? Yes. But I then force myself to breathe, clinging to the beauty that lies within every breath I take. I remember the simplistic unique beauty of life itself. I force myself to smile. And you know what? The world always smiles back, melting away my restless insecurities of despair. Those genuine smiles reassure me, reminding me that I am not alone. Also, about a year ago a Canadian photographer did a photo book project called Salty Girls: the Women of Cystic Fibrosis and before that did a project called Just Breathe: Adults with Cystic Fibrosis. Both books and projects depicting the honest beauty and raw stories of adults with CF. For the first time in my life, there before my eyes spread across countless pages, I saw myself and my unique differences reflected in those beautiful people. Some of the sweetest friendships I share today have come from fellow people with CF. They are truly beautiful in every sense of the word, reminding me that I am not alone or painfully different, but beautiful.

Unique Beauty

We each see our uniqueness as glaring reminders of what makes us different and at times an outcast. It’s easy to tear ourselves down, pick apart our bodies, lives, actions, or situations. We inwardly focus only on our imperfections and how we fall miserably short of our own expectations of perfected beauty. We think our differences are what define us, and that they are the only things others can see. But they are not. We just have to allow ourselves to believe such truth. What if when we each looked in the mirror, we decided to see those differences as what makes us truly beautiful instead of only seeing them as ghastly imperfections? We’d finally free ourselves from our own suffocating expectations and lies of self-determined beauty. We’d be able to freely allow our differences and imperfections to be the very things that connect us to one another, not separate us.

I know it’s not that simple and I know it’s something in which I am always going struggle. But I force myself to smile and remind myself, “this is my life and this is my truth.” We are each stitched together by a stunningly unique beauty, both externally and inwardly. That unique beauty is what makes each of us wonderfully different and truly who we are. Love to you all.

You are beautifully different. This is your life and this is your truth.

Check out Ian Pettigrew’s latest photo project, “Salty Girls – the Women of Cystic Fibrosis” here.