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You Matter
“Don’t be afraid to take up space.”
I copy the yoga teacher, Jessamyn Stanley, and listen to her explanation of the star asana. Yes, it feels good to reach my arms up and out as far as they can go, to stand with my feet wider than parallel—yet firmly planted on the earth. I think, Yes, I do matter and I have a right to be here. The thought feels like the opposite of how I felt for so many years.
For many years I hid my light under a bushel, as older black folks might say in their paraphrase of several sections of the Bible such as Mark 4: 21 or Matthew’s fifth chapter, verses 14 to 16: You are the light of the world… 15 [people do not] light a lamp and put it under a basket. Instead, they set it on a stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds…
Yet, these sayings seemed at odds with other admonitions to not talk so much, and eventually, I found myself being quieter to fit in. I morphed into my teenage years much less than the spirited young girl that I had once been. I could not easily overcome the many criticisms I received, so I often retreated to a place where I could read and ignore the world. I let skills such as writing atrophy because I did not feel confident at that time.
Thank God for midlife and the time when I stopped giving a damn about…
