The Wordsmith & the Tomb

I’ve always been told I’m good with words. Encouraging and eloquent. That people can tell that I am thoughtful with how I craft language. When I’m the wordsmith, I’m polished, calculated, emotive, and a little rebellious. This is who I present and it has served me well in public speaking, learning environments, and in leadership roles.

The opposite end of this spectrum is that sometimes I’m a tomb. Silent. Not wanting anyone to see inside because it could cause discomfort. I’m shut up, inward, small, secretive, scared, self-loathing, resentful, jealous, and appear void of emotions. 

It took a coaching session for someone to ask, “What’s between the wordsmith and the tomb?” Who am I in the middle? What exists in the space between these two modes of operation?

Between the wordsmith and the tomb, there is authentic vulnerability. There is whispering. There is laughter. There is honest communication. There is connection. There is self-awareness. There is tenderness. There are apologies. There are tears. 

I’ve been afraid of this vulnerability for so long. I’m still afraid that my authentic vulnerability won’t be appreciated, won’t be validated, won’t serve my highest good. 

Because between the wordsmith and the tomb, the imperfections are exposed. The scars are seen. The wrinkles show age. The broken heart is on the sleeve. The insecurities roam free. 

And that’s where it takes courage on my part because I can’t have just these two places to exist out of. I have to live as the whole in order to experience the deepest sense of fulfillment and joy. 

I can’t put myself into two boxes, let it define me, and call it a day. None of us can.

“I’m a blank and a blank.” and let that forever define you. 

Who are you in the in between?

What’s the barrier that is keeping from exploring that space?

We have to exist in the in between. It’s the authentically vulnerable in between where we find life, joy, honesty, healing, wholeness, connection to others and to ourselves.