Friends, I’m back sharing my two cents. Truthfully I’m sharing from the depths of my heart and hope somehow that any of the things I learn along this beautiful journey resonate. After all, I think the only way one truly learns in life is from experience, both ours and others. Perhaps this in part is why we humans so love the concept of story.
Often times, experiences come at a cost, and the ones I share with you are no exception. That means I’m sharing from a perch of humility having not gotten it right or from wisdom that’s been gained by those much more wise than I. So I’m starting to think that whenever others share their experiences, we should steward those truths in our hearts because knowledge has most likely cost something along the way.
Two of my girls recently danced in back to back ballet performances for The Nutcracker. This is a small but quickly growing ballet studio. We certainly aren’t talking Juilliard, but a studio built on great technique, love of dance, and love for the dancers.
During one of the performances, my daughter got emotional on stage. Simply put, she made a mistake. Then we made eye contact; as I was on the front row, and it was all over. That night I also witnessed mistakes that were not student error but technical difficulties, like lights not being fully illuminated. You know the saying there’s good in everything? There really is. My heart was awakened for my daughters in a new way.
As parents, grandparents, friends and loved ones poured out of the theater with flowers and words of encouragement bubbling from their pores, I realized I have gotten the order of it wrong this whole time. The flowers weren’t there to be celebratory of performance based actions. The flowers shouldn’t say, I’m celebrating the SEEN minutes on that stage.
So the second performance, I presented my girls with flowers before they ever stepped foot on that stage. Those flowers represented how proud I am of the UNSEEN. I’m proud of them for showing up. Not just showing up on performance day, but every single week leading up to it. Those flowers were for all the times they practiced even if they didn’t want to. Those flowers were for celebrating peers when they got the role that you really wanted. The flowers say I love you, I celebrate you, you’re worthy of this level of praise regardless of how a 45 minute performance plays out.
After all, I’m undone watching them shine on stage. I love seeing their hard work, dedication, grit and grace. But know what I love more? The eternal unseen effects of showing up, working hard, and getting to do life with others.
So from now on, I’ll give the flowers first. I am already proud. You are already worthy.
Shine your light.
Xoxo,
Sara
Four Girls Later 