Tiny Paper Elephant

This morning I looked at my elephant tattoo in the bathroom mirror and had the sense I've had it backwards the whole time. I've always thought: it's a tiny paper elephant, but it's still an elephant. Strong, kind, loyal, reliable. There was a defiance to it, like I had something to prove. Like there is something wrong with being tiny and made of paper.

And maybe my interpretation was not so much backwards as misguided, because it's not about being one or the other but knowing we have the capacity for both, for all. We can be both strong and vulnerable. We can be both a fly on the wall and fill a whole room with the loving, joyous generosity of our spirit. We can be solid and we can fold.

When we allow our whole selves to exist, like my tiny paper elephant, we glow. 

[Freewriting exercise, written on 10/1/22]​