Mad Hatter

“You used to be much more… ‘muchier.’ You’ve lost your muchness.” -The Mad Hatter to Alice in Alice in Wonderland.

What is it to lose our “muchness?”

To lose that thing, whatever it is, that makes us whole? That makes us different? That makes us stretch as tall as we can from the tips of our toes to the tops of our heads?

Muchness is purpose: to know why you need to swing your feet out of bed in the morning. To remember what sets your soul on fire, and what keeps you from becoming numb to the world’s ceaseless pain.

Muchness is courage:  To be vulnerable, to be weak, to be honest.

Muchness is confidence: that tells you your words are worth hearing, your space worth the taking, that you are worth being known.

Muchness is love: to be zealous for those who walk in and out of your life. To be self-sacrificing and patient and kind to yourself.

I met a girl who was full of muchness. She said her name like she relished the sound of it. She laughed not to be a part of a group, but because she found this world lovable and full of irony and ridiculousness. She made ugly faces because she wasn’t afraid someone might think she was weird. She encouraged her competition because she knew we are all too different to be compared.

I once dated a boy who hadn’t found his muchness yet. He looked at the floor when he met new people. He walked on his toes because he didn’t want to disturb anyone. He stayed in the background not because he was content to serve, but because he was afraid of failing front and center.

I think muchness comes and goes. And that’s okay. The important thing is to know how to find it again when you lose it.

When I lose my muchness, I talk to God about it. I ask Him to help me find it again and He tells me that it isn’t really my muchness at all. It’s His muchness. He gave it to me, so wasn’t mine to lose. But I do have to take ownership of his gift. I have to step into it and embrace it.

Right now, I’m at an in-between. One moment, I’m the Muchness Queen; the next, I’m small with no muchness in sight.

It’s because right now the things in my life are a bigger size than I’m used to. And that’s good. Amazing, actually. It does, however, take some adjusting to get used to the changes in our stories.

I’m at the part in Alice in Wonderland when Alice takes different potions to become big and small, because she hasn’t found her right size yet.

I’m more likely to make myself too small rather than too big.

And that’s why I need to take muchness seriously.

I always fear that a life of muchness needs someone powerful, strong, and brave (aka, much.)

But I am reminded that that’s not the truth at all.

God uses the small to do mighty things. It’s written all over the timeless pages of history from Adam to Moses to Leah to Sarah to Mary to Stephen to Paul.

If you’ve lost your muchness, maybe it isn’t your muchness you need to find. Maybe it’s the muchness of something far greater than you.

Just as the moon has no light of its own, neither do I have muchness of mine. Still, as the moon gives light to the darkness, I have to choose to embrace my muchness and shine.