So I Showed Up

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.”

– Rumi

Dear Reader,

In the last seven days, I reached out to two people I don’t normally speak to anymore.

One had nearly lost their life. The other had just lost a parent.

These were not active relationships. There had been a rupture in each, the kind where neither person apologizes, neither reaches back out, and eventually the silence becomes the answer. 

There were stories on both sides. Things said, things never said, and things that probably never will be.

And if I’m honest, part of me hesitated before reaching out.

Not because I didn’t care. But because once enough time passes, you start to wonder whether your presence is still welcome. Whether too much distance now exists between you.

But the moment I heard what had happened, none of that felt important anymore.

Not the history. Not the pride. Not whatever distance had grown between us.

What remained was simply this, someone was going through one of the hardest moments of their life.

So I showed up.

Not to repair anything or rewrite the past. Just to let them know they weren’t alone at that moment.

I think sometimes we hold on too tightly to the narrative of what happened. And while some things may never be fully resolved, I’ve come to believe that compassion does not always require resolution.

Sometimes being human is simply having the courage to step outside the story and care anyway.

Because most of us know what it feels like to hurt alone, quietly. 

To carry something heavy while still trying to function. To wish that someone would soften toward us, give us space to feel our emotions without judgement or feeling we need to earn it.

Character reveals itself in these moments. Not in grand gestures. But in the quiet decisions no one applauds, where it would be easier to stay distant, stay proud, stay silent… and you choose softness instead.

My question for you this week:

Where in your life are you letting a story keep you from showing up?

Maybe noticing the pull to reach out is the moment.

Move from there.

– Ken