What does visible mean?
Visible: adjective
Able to be seen
Able to or likely to attract public attention and be noticed
Word origins: old French and directly from Latin ‘visibilus’ - that may be seen.
What does visible mean to me?
To me, ‘visible’ means showing up, even when I want to scurry behind the scenes to where I feel most comfortable.
I turned 40 five months ago and I’ve reached the conclusion that I can no longer be behind-the-scenes in my business. I need to find the courage to step into the spotlight consistently and this needs to extend to other areas of my life too.
I’ve always preferred to be behind the scenes, rather than in the spotlight. Stepping into the arena brings up all my gremlins:
‘Who does she think she is?’
‘When’s she going to stop playing shop?’
‘Who’d buy that?’
‘I don’t have the qualifications for it’
‘What if no one signs up for it?’
‘What if it’s a big, fat failure?’
Somehow, I equate being visible to being conceited and a fear of not measuring up. I’m not sure where this comes from, especially as I wish I could be like others who are naturally comfortable with being seen. It suggests that this thought isn't naturally my own, instead it’s a view I’ve subconsciously picked up from someone else.
Connection
Being visible is not conceited though.
Being visible is essential to connection and true belonging.
True belonging doesn't require you to change who you are, it requires you to be who you are.
Brene Brown
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about lockdowns, masks and enforced separation from family and friends, it’s that we need connection.
In November, my Dad died.
I've seen very little of my parents over the last two years as Manchester was locked down until March 2021 and they were shielding throughout the pandemic. Like many, I’m finding it hard to accept that the last two years of my Dad’s life were spent confined and in fear, isolated from those he loved and who loved him.
Although I spoke to him the day before and there was little to suggest that he would be stolen from us before the sun rose the next day, we hadn’t seen him for months and we never got to say goodbye.
What happened to my Dad has been a painful reminder that life is for living, because tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.
A few weeks after my Dad died, I saw this on social media.
I know it’s incredibly tongue-in-cheek, but for some reason, it made me angry.
I don’t want to sneak into 2022, half-expecting to be locked down at a moment’s notice. I don’t want to be cautious or compliant.
I don't want to go gently into that good night, haunted by unfulfilled dreams, plans and adventures.
I’m not wasting another day waiting for permission to live this one beautiful life.
The Key to Your Year
I usually take the whole of January to journal about my word for the year and use these thoughts to help me set two goals for the year. I’ll update you next month once I have decided on them.
I recently hosted The Key to Your Year workshop, helping you to discover the word that will unlock 2022 for you. Some of you enjoyed it so much, you’ve asked me to run seasonal review workshops to help you stay true to your word and your intentions.
I’m looking forward to hosting the next workshop, coming in Spring, I’ll be chatting about it soon.
If you missed out on the workshop and you’re curious about how to choose a word for the year, you can read this blog for help.
Have you chosen a word for 2022? What is it and what's your reason for choosing it?
Carry on the conversation with me over on Instagram @brambleandfoxshopuk.
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