Conversation with a Stairwell

From time to time I can have quite animated encounters with what I think most other people might typically consider inanimate objects. Trees...candles...and, now, I can add stairwell to the list.

One day last week I was in the underground bus tunnel in downtown Seattle. As I reached the base of the stairwell and moved toward the first step I noticed a word engraved between the first steps: "Why." I've used this very stairwell on several other occasions, but had never noticed the engraving before. And, although "Why?" is a perfectly good question all on it's own, I quickly made the assumption that more words were to follow. Sure enough, the words came one at a time between alternating steps: "Are...You...Not...Afraid."

Why am I not afraid? Admittedly, that's a bit of a startling question to be asked as one is emerging from the dark, underground bus tunnel. The interesting juxtaposition of the words with the locale made me question, "Should I be afraid?" What does the stairwell know that I do not? While instinct tells me this is not a place at which I'd like to find myself alone, late at night; still, I couldn't imagine that the words were intended to frighten me as if I had just stepped into a horror flick.

I looked around intently for the answers to my questions. I looked on the walls for some kind of companion piece. When I reached the landing I turned to head up the next flight of stairs--I was sure the answer would be there. I encountered only silence. I looked between the steps, but there were no words.

As I continued my ascent, I also began to question the "voice" of the one who asked the question. Whose idea was it to engrave these precise words in this precise spot? Who wants to know why I am not afraid--and why? What's the origin and history of these words. What kind of response are they intended to evoke?

I cleared another landing and a shade of disappointment set in my heart as I again saw only empty stairs and bare walls. Nothing. I was certain when I first encountered the words at the base of the stairwell that they were a lead-in question to something more profound. Does the conversation really end here? Seriously?

The question hung in the air suspended by a great dramatic pause.

Why. Are. You. Not. Afraid?

Finally, as I rounded the corner to face the last flight of stairs, it was with an air of relief that my eyes zeroed in on words engraved, once-again, between alternating stairs:

Look. At. The. Reason. Why.

I found it symbolic that the "answer" came as I reached the point in the stairwell where the daylight from street-level was streaming in, shedding light on the darkness. Though, rather than a question and answer session, I think it would be more fitting to describe my conversation with the stairwell as a call and response kind of dialogue.

I still don't know what the intention of the conversation was supposed to be--or even whether the creator, indeed, had a specific kind of intended response in mind when setting up the potential conversation. I wondered how many 100s of people walk through this very stairwell every day and never notice a single word. I do, at times, have a tendency to notice things that the average person may not. On some days, that makes me observant; on other days, perhaps a little weird (hopefully a harmless, charming kind of weird...).

As I wrapped up my conversation with the stairwell, I made a point of offering my thanks and appreciation for the new revelations. I think, as human beings, we will always have to wrestle with "fear" in at least one of its many manifestations: fear, anxiety, insecurity, etc. There are small fears and big fears. Subtle fears and screaming-in-your-face kinds of fears. Through my conversation with the stairwell, I learned a new key trick for maneuvering through or past one's fears: examine the opposite thing. Where in your life are you safe from fear? Where are you secure, courageous, or confident? After you've named those places (Why are you not afraid?), examine what it is that makes all the difference (Look at the reason why.). When you are able to pinpoint the "why" then perhaps you can find a way to multiply that why into other areas of your life as needed. It may still be a process that takes time, but at least it may be a "step" in the right direction.

Cultivating passion, standing in truth

"If you cannot cultivate your passion...and stand in your truth...how will you ever know what it is that you want? If you don't have a clear vision of what it is that you want to go after, how will you ever get there?"
~Jillian Michaels

These are some of the words I've been chewing on as of late. I first heard them in a recent podcast by Jillian Michaels as she was discussing her latest book, Unlimited. (You can find her podcasts on iTunes by searching for "The Jillian Michaels Show.") I found the phrase "stand in your truth" to be particularly gripping--compelling--as I visualized its implications. I envisioned something of a chalk outline of my body--a white outline of a hollow silhouette not unlike what you might find on a crime scene. I pictured my physical self standing within the white boundary lines, right in the very center--the core. The core representing "my truth."

I like to think of myself as generally being fairly adaptable most of the time--flexible to whatever life throws my way and willing to compromise when necessary. I won't pretend that my flexibility is always instantaneous--the rate of speed at which I am able to adapt to certain situations and circumstances can vary quite drastically. Still, it is a quality I take pride in as one of my unique gifts, and it feels good to be able to put it to good use.

What I like about this imagery of "standing in my truth" is its emphasis both on the possibility as well as the necessity of enunciating a clear and distinct "Kristy" at my very core who still remains completely visible and unchanged even as she bends and sways with the natural (and sometimes unnatural!) ebbs and flows of life. For, it is clear to me that at some point a line must be drawn such that my very adaptability does not effectually become a complete submersion of my self--the world swallowing me up completely.

Standing in your truth, for me, does not necessarily include a soap box. In fact, it likely does not include one. I tend to prefer more subversive ways of being "loud." There are some truths that are spoken most eloquently and profoundly in silence, without words.

Kindness
Grace
Empathy
Gentleness
Laughter
Love

These are the kinds of things I think I will find as I examine my deepest spaces and search for the truths that reside within. My hope is that doing a more conscious inventory of these already residential truths will ultimately help reinforce them and strengthen my resolve to continue in my latest quest:

to be more of myself
by being less of myself
by being more of myself

Yes, as a matter of fact, that does get confusing at times. But, if life were to be completely straightforward all the time, then I can't help but think something valuable would have been lost along the way.

As for cultivating my passion, some interesting new insights came to mind this evening over dinner. I considered making a list of all those things that I would want to do with my time if I suddenly had limitless hours in a day. Even before I could think literally about the items I would include on the list, I instinctively knew it was a list that would grow exponentially the moment I put my pen to the pad. Suddenly I felt an awareness of all my dreams and passions as they swelled up in my soul to a place just below the surface--energized by the mere suggestion that they might get let out to play. Wow, there really is a lot in there, I marveled momentarily. Hopes and dreams. My passions. Many of them are tucked away inside, hibernating, still stifled by the fact that there are only 24 hours on any given day and I have not yet figured out a trick to negotiating a different kind of currency in the economy of time. This thought--knowing that they are there--makes me smile. It's good to have truths and passions. It's even better to know what they are, of course! And, though I still won't be able to change the fact that there are only 24 hours in a day, not a limitless bank, the fact also remains that even a small amount of seconds or minutes or hours collected faithfully each day can metaphorically become unlimited hours when stretched over a lifetime.

There's still plenty of time to live the life I've imagined! Let's get to it!