“How’s your day going?”
“Busy. Really busy. How’s yours?”
“Well. I’m grieving.”
The man working at the chippery held me in his eyes, got quiet and awkward and then he walked away.
He wasn’t quite ready to hear more than “okay” or “good.”
I don’t ask people how they are without intending to hold a space for however they are feeling.
I don’t want to hear someone’s “good” or “fine” or “okay.”
None of those are emotions.
I walk through this life transparent as f*ck.
I understand people don’t. Some people don’t want the transparency. Some people want you to go away without ever seeing you.
Some people may not even be tuned in to how they really are, either.
“I hope this helps.” He says as he passes me my poutine, fish and chips and strawberry milkshake.
“Thanks.” I say gently.
“We so often ask each other how we are. I wanted to tell you how I really was.” I continue.
“Thank you. That’s really cool,” he says.
There is compassion after the shock has passed.
We shared a look and a moment where we saw each other.
This is why I’m here.
I feel my life’s work is to be transparent. To be real. To be weak. To be messy. To not have my sh*t together. To have my sh*t together other days.
To feel powerless. To feel powerful.
There is space for us on this planet, however we show up each day.
And when we show up transparently, we create a space for others to do the same.
I refuse to ever mask how I’m showing up.
I am here to see others and I am here to be seen.
Author: Janne Robinson
Editor: Renée Picard
Photo credit: Bryan Tranminh