Friday afternoon I was irritable with my colleague, and she happens to be the best teammate I've ever had at work. I was angry with myself for being unpleasant, but I was more angry for not being me. For a while I stewed over it: what was wrong with me? Then I realized what it was.
Like a bolt out of the blue, it came to me: I was resisting giving up the last vestiges of my integrity. The resistance--the fight to maintain who I know myself to be in my heart--had weakened me. Over the last couple of years, slowly I've carved away almost every part of me that I've felt to be right and true. Those who have read this blog for a while will know that I have struggled with eating sugar and a host of desires that sugar triggers. I have grappled with gradually carving exercise from my life. I have fought for time and energy to write...this blog and other things. I have strained to figure out how I could do all the work expected of me and still work a reasonable number of hours. All of these are things I know to be for me: they are important to my health, my life, and my integrity--who I know I am...in my heart.
So it is that yesterday, I sat at my desk in near tears trying to figure out how I could do 30 hours worth of work in the four hours that were left. Well, that isn't quite right: I'd been off the clock for nine or ten hours by then, but it was still the normal work day. "I am killing myself!" I thought. Just as surely as if I were to pull out a gun, the way I've abused my body, mind, and spirit is killing me.
Although I should have done so, I didn't bring work home this weekend. I have no idea how I will get everything done that I need to do for next week but, as the afore-referenced colleague has said, we've grown accustomed to almost no preparation for the string of events which we orchestrate. Somehow, I am sure I will figure this out...or I won't, but something must change. I need the rest. I need renewal. I need time to heal. I need my creativity.
A funny thought drifted into my mind. Over 20 years ago, I was having a session with a cranial-sacral therapist. I am not sure exactly what that is. The practitioner held my head in his hands and, for lack of a better term, rotated it gently for an hour or so. I had struggled for several years with pain following an accident. The total relaxation that I experienced in the "treatment" eased my discomfort.
One day at the end of the session, he said to me, "You have self-trust issues."
As much as I could do so in the state of total relaxation, I wriggled my face and wrinkled my brow a little. I thought he was nuts. Yesterday, I knew he was right. I couldn't trust myself: I couldn't trust myself to do what I know I need. Admitting this part should change things, right? Just stop all those self-destructive behaviors in which I've been engaging.
I've actually drawn a line in the sand several times. I would work these crazy hours until a long-promised new team member arrives. That was a process that started last October...almost a year ago. We've heard a number of dates when the person was supposed to be here: March, May, June, July, August, September. Two days ago the date we were told it will be October 6. With each new date, I took a deep breath and put my nose down to continue for just a month or two more. I've committed to some clients through the end of September, but I will not do this any more.
In the meantime, I am going to start taking those exercise lunches that have fallen away. Tomorrow I will dispose of the "healthy junk food," which has slipped into my kitchen. I commit to writing this blog more regularly and resuming regular attendance at dance events at least once a week. These small steps won't reverse the damage, but at least they will stem the losses and provide me with some resilience.
Hopefully, they will help me begin to restore my trust in me and my integrity, so that I will start to like the person I see in the mirror in the morning. I want to be a person who can be trusted, and if I can't trust myself to do what is right for me, then who else can trust me?
As with every intention, bringing it to life comes in the magnitude of thousands of small choices moving toward what we choose. Do what I need to do in this moment. Then, in the next moment, do what I need to do again. But, to do that I must be conscious--I must be awake, and this work addiction has lulled me back to that place, which the Upanishads calls "the sleeping place that men call waking."
That's all there is to it: stay awake. Of course, the Upanishads were written between 800 and 400 BC! This is a battle that humankind has been fighting for a very long time, apparently with limited success. I won't worry about that. I am confident that I will not change the course of human history by going to exercise classes and dances, cleaning out my junk food, and writing this blog. I don't need to change the course of human history. I just need to change my life...in this moment...and the next...and the next.
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Monday, April 14, 2014
Passover
Just after dusk tonight, the commemoration of Passover began, and it will continue until dusk tomorrow. The story behind Passover is familiar to all three Abrahamic traditions--Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.
To refresh for those who may have forgotten and to share for those who may not know, God led the Israelites, who had been held in slavery in Egypt, to freedom. It is said that God sent 10 plagues to Egypt, and the last and worst was the death of first-born children. "The Israelites were instructed to mark the doorposts of their homes with the blood of a slaughtered spring lamb and, upon seeing this, the spirit of the Lord knew to pass over the first-born in these homes, hence the English name of the holiday."*
I remember being fascinated by this story as a child, and I am almost as moved by it today. Besides being the most important Jewish holiday and foundational in Christianity, this story is one of the most beloved in Islam, as well.
Just think about it: these people were slaves, and they just trusted that God would lead them from slavery. All they needed to do was slaughter a lamb and mark their homes. While Passover is primarily observed as a celebration of freedom, for me it is also a story of complete trust and obedience. I find Passover a reminder--a reminder that we can find freedom every day by trusting and obeying wherever God leads us.
Remember, trust, obey...freedom!
*Wikipedia
To refresh for those who may have forgotten and to share for those who may not know, God led the Israelites, who had been held in slavery in Egypt, to freedom. It is said that God sent 10 plagues to Egypt, and the last and worst was the death of first-born children. "The Israelites were instructed to mark the doorposts of their homes with the blood of a slaughtered spring lamb and, upon seeing this, the spirit of the Lord knew to pass over the first-born in these homes, hence the English name of the holiday."*
I remember being fascinated by this story as a child, and I am almost as moved by it today. Besides being the most important Jewish holiday and foundational in Christianity, this story is one of the most beloved in Islam, as well.
Just think about it: these people were slaves, and they just trusted that God would lead them from slavery. All they needed to do was slaughter a lamb and mark their homes. While Passover is primarily observed as a celebration of freedom, for me it is also a story of complete trust and obedience. I find Passover a reminder--a reminder that we can find freedom every day by trusting and obeying wherever God leads us.
Remember, trust, obey...freedom!
*Wikipedia
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Hidden in Plain Sight
Snow blanketed the park behind my apartment today, and like magic, something appeared amidst the trees that I'd never seen before. Four white rectangles appeared. What an unusual thing--all those right angles among the flowing organic lines of the woods. I had known that somewhere out there were a few houses, which had been in the woods before it was a park, but usually the foliage has camouflaged them, or I thought it did. The foliage has been gone for at least six weeks, though, and I hadn't noticed the houses.
Seeing the white rectangles really made me wonder: what else in my world is hidden in plain sight--just sitting there waiting for snow to fall on it, like a sign shouting "See me!" What else might I see that I've been missing? What if love or joy were observable? I sense that they are all around us, but I haven't been able to see them. Or maybe I haven't allowed myself to see them. What if the finer qualities of people we don't like so much were there like billboards so we couldn't miss them? Or maybe those invisible creatures that support us, like angels encouraging us to grow. We could see them and how much they want us to succeed.
What if all those things that have been hidden in plain sight were as apparent as the rooftops of houses in the park? I sense that I would be able to trust more. I chuckle even as I write it. I could trust more if I could see all those things that I should trust are there anyway. Is that trust? If we can see things, they don't require trust. Trusting is believing what we can't see.
I am guessing, and it is only a guess, that if we really trust, we actually will see those things that might appear to be invisible...like magic, hidden in plain sight.
Seeing the white rectangles really made me wonder: what else in my world is hidden in plain sight--just sitting there waiting for snow to fall on it, like a sign shouting "See me!" What else might I see that I've been missing? What if love or joy were observable? I sense that they are all around us, but I haven't been able to see them. Or maybe I haven't allowed myself to see them. What if the finer qualities of people we don't like so much were there like billboards so we couldn't miss them? Or maybe those invisible creatures that support us, like angels encouraging us to grow. We could see them and how much they want us to succeed.
What if all those things that have been hidden in plain sight were as apparent as the rooftops of houses in the park? I sense that I would be able to trust more. I chuckle even as I write it. I could trust more if I could see all those things that I should trust are there anyway. Is that trust? If we can see things, they don't require trust. Trusting is believing what we can't see.
I am guessing, and it is only a guess, that if we really trust, we actually will see those things that might appear to be invisible...like magic, hidden in plain sight.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Joy!
"Joy to the world
All the boys and girls now
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me."
That earworm of the song, which was popularized in 1970 by the Three Dog Night, has been playing in my head since I sat quietly and asked for guidance on writing this blog post. Hmmm! What am I to say? The song just keeps playing.
I wonder if it relates at all to an article that I read earlier this evening about the level of trust in the United States being at an all-time low. A major survey, which has been repeated for 40 years, reported that just about a third of people in the country think that they can trust most people. The article related the diminishing level of trust to less involvement in community organizations and activities, increased isolated television viewing, decline of traditional values, and the 24/7 news cycle. Not much joy in any of that.
The last couple of times I've played the Grocery Store Game (12/1/13) I've found that it is harder to connect than it used to be. Our electronics have significantly changed our lives. Until 3-4 years ago, I often had a conversation on the train with a random person. While I have no way of actually knowing whether I can trust the person more after a conversation, somehow that familiarity makes me think I can trust that person.
However, most days now most people are hunkered over their smartphones, iPads, or laptops with ear buds in place--safely "protected" from either visual or auditory contact.I literally cannot remember when I've said anything to anyone on the train other than, "Excuse me: this is my stop.) Even walking down the street, people are looking at their devices and shutting out sound. Lest you think I am anti-technology, I fully confess that I have been guilty of the above activity. While our devices give us the illusion of being connected, they actually have the opposite effect. We have become a siloed world instead of a connected one, when connection is what it takes to build trust, and it certainly encourages joy.
As the song suggests, joy comes from connecting with people and nature around us. For those who have taken the Grocery Store Game challenge, this is the important work we are taking on: bringing the intention of connection to our encounters, building trust and creating joy. This is good work we are doing. Ah! Joy to the world!
All the boys and girls now
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me."
That earworm of the song, which was popularized in 1970 by the Three Dog Night, has been playing in my head since I sat quietly and asked for guidance on writing this blog post. Hmmm! What am I to say? The song just keeps playing.
I wonder if it relates at all to an article that I read earlier this evening about the level of trust in the United States being at an all-time low. A major survey, which has been repeated for 40 years, reported that just about a third of people in the country think that they can trust most people. The article related the diminishing level of trust to less involvement in community organizations and activities, increased isolated television viewing, decline of traditional values, and the 24/7 news cycle. Not much joy in any of that.
The last couple of times I've played the Grocery Store Game (12/1/13) I've found that it is harder to connect than it used to be. Our electronics have significantly changed our lives. Until 3-4 years ago, I often had a conversation on the train with a random person. While I have no way of actually knowing whether I can trust the person more after a conversation, somehow that familiarity makes me think I can trust that person.
However, most days now most people are hunkered over their smartphones, iPads, or laptops with ear buds in place--safely "protected" from either visual or auditory contact.I literally cannot remember when I've said anything to anyone on the train other than, "Excuse me: this is my stop.) Even walking down the street, people are looking at their devices and shutting out sound. Lest you think I am anti-technology, I fully confess that I have been guilty of the above activity. While our devices give us the illusion of being connected, they actually have the opposite effect. We have become a siloed world instead of a connected one, when connection is what it takes to build trust, and it certainly encourages joy.
As the song suggests, joy comes from connecting with people and nature around us. For those who have taken the Grocery Store Game challenge, this is the important work we are taking on: bringing the intention of connection to our encounters, building trust and creating joy. This is good work we are doing. Ah! Joy to the world!
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Warmth
Washington is finally experiencing some serious fall weather with temperatures predicted into the 30s tonight. A serious chill brought shivers to my jaw as I walked to dinner in the city this evening. Yet, I am warm--warm in a way that, regrettably, I have rarely been in recent past.
I've just spent three hours with special friends. We've been friends since college, and that was more than a few years ago. It has probably been over three years since two of us were together, and more likely a dozen since all of us were together. We did the usual catching up on our day-to-day lives, shared stories of health challenges, and talked about what we thought the next chapter in our lives would be. They got a brief tour of my new home. It was a fun evening.
Sometime early in the evening, I realized that I had been wrong in this blog yesterday. I can let love in. I can feel that warm vibration in my heart with other humans. I felt it tonight. It was wonderful, and I want to let more of love into my life. What could be more important?
If the world works like I am pretty sure it is supposed to, this heart-to-heart warmth should be normal all the time. People connecting to people connecting to people in a ribbon of love that connects the whole world. I've advocated for it. I've believed it could be. I've even talked about how important it is that those of us who want to change humankind focus on staying in that spot until we build critical mass to global transformation. I couldn't quite get there myself. Or maybe I could at some time in the past, but not yesterday or the day before or the day before that.
At what point between two days ago and several decades ago did I lose the ability to let love in? Does it matter? What really matters is that today--this one miraculous day--my heart opened. I really believe that if I can do that tomorrow, the day after that, and 100 days after that, we can change the world. I am confident that is why I am here in this world. I am pretty sure that is why we are all here. Seems like changing the world is pretty easy...as soon as the heart creaks open to just one person. I think the first is the hardest. Tomorrow, I will open again.
I've just spent three hours with special friends. We've been friends since college, and that was more than a few years ago. It has probably been over three years since two of us were together, and more likely a dozen since all of us were together. We did the usual catching up on our day-to-day lives, shared stories of health challenges, and talked about what we thought the next chapter in our lives would be. They got a brief tour of my new home. It was a fun evening.
Sometime early in the evening, I realized that I had been wrong in this blog yesterday. I can let love in. I can feel that warm vibration in my heart with other humans. I felt it tonight. It was wonderful, and I want to let more of love into my life. What could be more important?
If the world works like I am pretty sure it is supposed to, this heart-to-heart warmth should be normal all the time. People connecting to people connecting to people in a ribbon of love that connects the whole world. I've advocated for it. I've believed it could be. I've even talked about how important it is that those of us who want to change humankind focus on staying in that spot until we build critical mass to global transformation. I couldn't quite get there myself. Or maybe I could at some time in the past, but not yesterday or the day before or the day before that.
At what point between two days ago and several decades ago did I lose the ability to let love in? Does it matter? What really matters is that today--this one miraculous day--my heart opened. I really believe that if I can do that tomorrow, the day after that, and 100 days after that, we can change the world. I am confident that is why I am here in this world. I am pretty sure that is why we are all here. Seems like changing the world is pretty easy...as soon as the heart creaks open to just one person. I think the first is the hardest. Tomorrow, I will open again.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Everything is Planned to Teach Me Love
Some days as I go through my affirmations, one will particularly resonate with me, and then it hangs in the back of my mind all day. Today when I got to "Everything is planned to teach me love," the statement wouldn't let go of me and whispered to me all day.
Even before I got to the office, I was pondering, "Why does something need to teach me love?" The immediate answer seemed to be that I don't know love. When I focus on breathing into my heart, I am sure the "vibration" that I feel is God's love. By extension, since I believe that we are all connected through God's love, I am sure that it should be the same or similar.
Yet, I don't know that I've experienced that feeling with any human being when I know I should feel it with all human beings. Hmmm... Maybe I don't know love, or don't know how to feel love. Or, just maybe, I've guarded myself so that I shut others out. Ouch! That again.
I believe that part of our basic equipment as humans is to be able to give and receive love. Is it possible that my equipment is so under-used and rusted that it has forgotten what is basically human?
One of my favorite little books is one that has been around for awhile, called The Knight in Rusty Armor (Robert Fisher.) The book relates a parable about a knight who has lived in his armor so long that he can no longer take it off at the end of the day when he is done doing battle. Only when he weeps at not being able to hug his family do his tears cause pieces of his armor to drop off.
I sense his experience may be similar to what occurs to well guarded hearts, like mine. I haven't cried...yet. I have been overwhelmed with a deep sense of loss about all the people I have "loved" intellectually in my life but for whom I have thought it was just too risky to really open my heart. Well, I didn't really "think" the risk part in a conscious sort of way. I am pretty certain, though, that it was happening in a less-than-conscious way. Now I realize that whatever damage I thought might be done to my heart could only be exceed by the sadness at not having really let "my people" in.
I feel like a toddler at this, taking my first wobbly steps. I am certain that I need something to hang onto as I steady myself, and my heart tells me that something will be God's love--it will be my compass teaching me love.
Even before I got to the office, I was pondering, "Why does something need to teach me love?" The immediate answer seemed to be that I don't know love. When I focus on breathing into my heart, I am sure the "vibration" that I feel is God's love. By extension, since I believe that we are all connected through God's love, I am sure that it should be the same or similar.
Yet, I don't know that I've experienced that feeling with any human being when I know I should feel it with all human beings. Hmmm... Maybe I don't know love, or don't know how to feel love. Or, just maybe, I've guarded myself so that I shut others out. Ouch! That again.
I believe that part of our basic equipment as humans is to be able to give and receive love. Is it possible that my equipment is so under-used and rusted that it has forgotten what is basically human?
One of my favorite little books is one that has been around for awhile, called The Knight in Rusty Armor (Robert Fisher.) The book relates a parable about a knight who has lived in his armor so long that he can no longer take it off at the end of the day when he is done doing battle. Only when he weeps at not being able to hug his family do his tears cause pieces of his armor to drop off.
I sense his experience may be similar to what occurs to well guarded hearts, like mine. I haven't cried...yet. I have been overwhelmed with a deep sense of loss about all the people I have "loved" intellectually in my life but for whom I have thought it was just too risky to really open my heart. Well, I didn't really "think" the risk part in a conscious sort of way. I am pretty certain, though, that it was happening in a less-than-conscious way. Now I realize that whatever damage I thought might be done to my heart could only be exceed by the sadness at not having really let "my people" in.
I feel like a toddler at this, taking my first wobbly steps. I am certain that I need something to hang onto as I steady myself, and my heart tells me that something will be God's love--it will be my compass teaching me love.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
What Does It Mean to be a Friend?
Today I have been in intense exploration of the question, "What does it mean to be a friend?" Although I say "today," because today it has been very focused, I believe that I've been playing with this question for almost a week. Last Sunday I watched Brene Brown on OWN's Lifeclass. She is a prominent researcher on "vulnerability" and "shame." She said that in a lifetime, we should count ourselves lucky to have one or two friends with whom we can totally share who we are--to whom we can open our hearts, and they are willing to just empathize with us. She calls it opening our "arena" to that person and letting them in to our vulnerability.
"Wow!" I thought. One or two in a life time. I must be very fortunate indeed with so many friends. That is when the pondering began. I have people I do things with. I have people I turn to for spirited discourse. I have people that I strategize with. I have people I know I can depend on and who know they can depend on me. But, do I truly have people in my life that I can totally open my heart to and with whom I can share my "shame"? Do I have people who can just sit there and be with me and ride through it with me without trying to "fix" me or somehow move me around my vulnerability? I am not sure that I do...and I have a really evolved group of friends, well populated from the "helping professions."
I am a staunch believer in when I am pointing my finger at others, I should notice three other fingers pointing back at me. So I noticed. Could I really sit with one of my "friends" and ride with them into their shame and vulnerability? I'd like to think that I could, but the truth is that I am more likely to help them reframe, excuse, justify, strategize, or encourage than to just sit with them in their vulnerability.
Have I unconsciously invited a group of people into my life that could function with me at a superficial level because that is my comfort zone? They don't show their vulnerability, and I don't show my own, and we can safely avoid the discomfort of just being empathetic with each other. That hurts. But, what to do about it? Do I need new people? I hope not. Can I change the fundamental nature of my relationship with the people in my lives? I hope so, but wonder.
I am tired of hiding behind a wall that I've built to keep others from knowing who I am in my heart, and I am terrified at coming from behind the wall. But the wall is built of stuff I need to forgive myself and others for. The wall is built of the past and keeps me from the present. The wall is what keeps me from being fully who I am. What I know in my heart is that if I can find the courage to come behind the wall, "my people" will be there for me. The question for me is can I forgive, be in the present, and be fully who I am? Now that is the question.
"Wow!" I thought. One or two in a life time. I must be very fortunate indeed with so many friends. That is when the pondering began. I have people I do things with. I have people I turn to for spirited discourse. I have people that I strategize with. I have people I know I can depend on and who know they can depend on me. But, do I truly have people in my life that I can totally open my heart to and with whom I can share my "shame"? Do I have people who can just sit there and be with me and ride through it with me without trying to "fix" me or somehow move me around my vulnerability? I am not sure that I do...and I have a really evolved group of friends, well populated from the "helping professions."
I am a staunch believer in when I am pointing my finger at others, I should notice three other fingers pointing back at me. So I noticed. Could I really sit with one of my "friends" and ride with them into their shame and vulnerability? I'd like to think that I could, but the truth is that I am more likely to help them reframe, excuse, justify, strategize, or encourage than to just sit with them in their vulnerability.
Have I unconsciously invited a group of people into my life that could function with me at a superficial level because that is my comfort zone? They don't show their vulnerability, and I don't show my own, and we can safely avoid the discomfort of just being empathetic with each other. That hurts. But, what to do about it? Do I need new people? I hope not. Can I change the fundamental nature of my relationship with the people in my lives? I hope so, but wonder.
I am tired of hiding behind a wall that I've built to keep others from knowing who I am in my heart, and I am terrified at coming from behind the wall. But the wall is built of stuff I need to forgive myself and others for. The wall is built of the past and keeps me from the present. The wall is what keeps me from being fully who I am. What I know in my heart is that if I can find the courage to come behind the wall, "my people" will be there for me. The question for me is can I forgive, be in the present, and be fully who I am? Now that is the question.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)