When a Word Stops Working

Sometimes a single word asks to be seen in a completely different way.

Dear Reader,

As I write this, I’m a very long way from home.

I’m in Africa.

I’ll tell you more about that later this week, for the Full Moon, Africa is teaching me….

For now, I simply want to begin by saying…

Thank you.

Last week, I asked you one simple question (And if you happened to miss it, here it is):

What, deep inside, is quietly asking for more of you?

Your replies have begun arriving, and I'm reading every one. Thank you.

There is something deeply moving about hearing the language of another person's heart.

Some of you replied with one word.

Some were a few words.

Some became beautiful little stories.

I’ve read every one.

And what a gift you’ve given me.

What delighted me the most?

No one wrote about becoming more productive.

No one asked for more achievement.

Instead, your hearts spoke of…

Joy.

Compassion.

Faith.

Authenticity.

Deep listening.

Serenity.

More play.

One person simply wrote,

“Walks in nature.”

Another,

“Allowing.”

I found myself smiling, and more than once, moved to tears.

Different people.

Different lives.

And yet, beneath all your beautiful words, I sensed something shared.

Not a longing to become more.

Or to do more.

A longing to be more fully ourselves.

Reading your words brought me back to where this whole conversation began.

Earlier this month, I came across the word Responsibility as the theme for the month.

Instead of feeling inspired…

Something inside me quietly said,

“Enough.”

Enough with feeling responsible for everything.

Enough with believing that being a good human means carrying one more burden.

The reaction surprised me.

Because I do believe we’re here to love one another.

To help one another.

To live in connection and community.

I really do.

So why did that one word create such resistance in me? I got curious.

A few mornings later, I was driving at sunrise to help a friend move.

The roads were quiet.

The sky was just beginning to brighten.

There was no music.

No podcast.

Just the beauty of a summer morning and the space to listen.

Then, almost out of nowhere, a thought arrived.

What if responsibility isn’t really about being responsible?

What if it’s about response-ability?

The ability to choose our response.

I actually laughed out loud.

Not because I had found an answer.

Because something inside me relaxed.

I’ve been living with those two words ever since.

Turning them over.

Trying them on.

Watching what they awaken in me.

Perhaps response-ability isn’t another burden to carry.

Perhaps it’s remembering that in every moment, I have a choice.

A choice to meet life with compassion.

Or patience.

Or joy.

Or faith.

Or deep listening.

Reading your words, I realized something.

You weren’t asking for more things to do.

You were naming ways of being.

That is what I felt during my little sunrise revelation.

Not that responsibility doesn’t matter.

Rather, that love is always expressed through the way we choose to respond.

One response.

One conversation.

One act of kindness.

One moment of presence.

One choice at a time.

Your words have become part of this exploration now.

Thank you for trusting me with them.

And thank you for reminding me that although each of us walks a different path, our hearts often long for remarkably similar things.

As I continue my journey in Africa, I have a feeling this land still has a few things to teach me.

I can’t wait to share them with you.

Until then…

With love,

P.S.Many of you replied with your beautiful word—or words—last week. Thank you.

If you haven’t yet, there’s still plenty of room in this conversation.

Here’s last week’s note:: - LINK ​

Tell me the word…or words…that are bubbling up from within you.

I promise I’ll read every single one.