Restraint (a value I'm learning to name)
Lately, I’ve been rolling the word restraint around in my brain, heart, and tongue. I’m leaning into the uncomfortable yet deliciousness of it, like a hard lemon candy. By restraint, I don't mean holding back Love. I don't mean politeness, making myself smaller, or silence. I mean holding Love wisely. The kind of restraint that lives in the pause between the impulse and intervention; the kind that resists the urge to smooth over, fix, rescue, or explain. It trusts people with their own dignity. Restraint is choosing not to make myself the center of every moment of care. It is the choice not to rush in, not to fill the silence, and not to force resolution, protecting what is trying to surface and the relationship holding it. I'm learning that restraint is what keeps True Hospitality from becoming control. It is presence without intrusion, care with boundaries, and Love that lets everyone Be. In my life, restraint has often been misunderstood as indifference, overlooked in systems that reward urgency, and taken advantage of by people who assume calm means endless capacity. And still, I am choosing it. Because restraint isn't weakness. It's strength under conscious direction. It is an ethical stance and a form of leadership I have quietly learned to trust through practice, beneath my conscious awareness. This process is uncomfortable. It is precise. Once tasted, it is hard to give up. Where in your life are you practicing restraint without calling it that? And what might change if you trusted it as a strength?