The Pain of Anonymous Direct Messages

Two crazy things happened last week, so let's start with the first: I hiked through the Phoenician desert with a group of founders as a part of a leadership retreat.

(Nothing like staring out onto the Arizona basin to realize how small we are, yet how big we dream.)

I was the only woman who attended the event. I was welcomed with open arms, but I also shared the following on Instagram.

This leads us to the second crazy thing that happened last week: I got the following message…

Before you think I was crushed by this direct message, let me set the record straight: Someone's opinion is a reflection of their greatest limitations, not mine.

While I wouldn't dare to say I'm a perfect mom, I will hand-to-heaven tell you that I'm the best mom for Luna. Take that to the bank.

But I wouldn't have this level of clarity had I not learned three lessons whilst in the red dirt mountains of Phoenix studying the qualities of the saguaro cactus.

Lesson One: Even on the hottest days, the saguaro is only ever half exposed to the sun. When the heat fires (sometimes in the form of direct messages), remember that it cannot affect what is protected in the shade. The sun will never get access to the entirety of the saguaro.

Lesson Two: Collect the most you can, while creating pathways of expansion. During heavy rain (seasons of abundance), collect as much water as possible. The saguaro creates new pathways to expand its base to save hydration for dry spells (seasons of lack).

Lesson Three: What makes the saguaro beautiful is a result of surviving the harshest environment. The arms of a saguaro are formed during seasons of extreme heat and cold. The arms sprout as a way to collect more water after a season of high temperatures, but later droop when the water freezes in the newly formed arms. What we admire most is often a result of pain.

Go and create beauty in the world, simply by being you, surviving the worst conditions yet finding a way to thrive.

Saguaros for life,

j*