Being Beloved

She's a brick.......house.

Last night I fully realized that I haven’t honoured the most essential pieces of who I am in the way that they deserve. I don’t think this makes me different from any other human being. We all have our insecurities and fears. And we all have to find a way to cope with the lies that have taken root in our heads and our hearts from the moment of life that first introduced us to self-doubt. We've all been there. Many of us still exist in that place.

I have this memory from my childhood. I’m in front of a huge bonfire, my bare feet are scattering sand as I twirl, the magical vibration of fingers strumming guitar strings reverberating in my mind, my body reacting in abandon with each chord as the music lifts my soul into a state of total freedom. The memory is tattooed on the inside of my eyelids. I can see the sparks jumping from the logs, hear the surf in the background, and feel the dizzying heat of the flames… But most importantly, I have absolutely no recollection of how anyone saw that performance…except myself. It may be the last moment of my existence when I didn’t factor in the judgment of others. My last moment of total belief in myself.

Despite that amazing moment of complete oneness with the universe, I didn’t hold onto the connection. I somehow started listening to people who knew all the reasons why I shouldn’t take any risks – and I applied their strategy of self-protection to the important areas of my life: friendship, school, work, love, and…my heart’s desire. Writing. It was like a brick wall going up around me.

I didn’t pursue the writing career I have always wanted. I found out (from others) that only a tiny percentage of writers are published. Those odds didn't seem to be in my favour. So I shared my work (with others) who explained why my writing ‘didn’t fit the market’ or ‘wasn’t what most people are looking for’. And then I didn’t think I had the talent. I knew (from others) that there is no money in writing, and that it couldn’t possibly work as a full-time career. That just depressed me, so I didn’t stick to the habit of writing daily, because I really just didn’t think I had it in me to persevere when there was obviously no future in it for me...

And yet, since I turned fifty, the ghost of my oldest dream has been flirting at the edges of my consciousness. Taunting me. Making sure that I occasionally write blog posts. Reviving my appetite for cleansing my heart with a written word purge. Since starting this blog, many people have encouraged me to write, but my self-doubt has been like a fog making possibilities and opportunities seem shapeless, vague…hopeless. What if I’m not talented enough? Or disciplined enough? Or if my writing doesn’t sell? Isn’t it better to keep doing things the way I know is safe? The way I know won’t make me socially unacceptable…a failure? If I throw myself into writing – heart and soul – I could be broken. I could fail.

Suddenly, last night, in a conversation with someone I hadn’t seen for years and years, it hit me. I haven’t been believing in myself. And there’s no reason for this to remain a truth in my life.

Then, during my meditation time this morning, I remembered this line from somewhere:

"If you carry the bricks of your past with you, you will build the same house."

I suddenly realized that I don’t want the same house. So what if I try and fail?  It’s still the best possible thing I could do. If I fail, I learn. If I learn, I change. If I change, I’m growing. If I grow, I’m better. Not for others. For me.

I know now that the only way to get past this insecurity is to move through it. To push past my discomfort. To put myself – and my writing – out there and to be okay with not knowing for sure what others will think. To stick with writing daily, ignoring any negative self-talk. And when I accidentally allow my disparaging inner voice to breach the walls of my self-confidence, to find the courage to trust myself and keep going.

After all, call it what you will (it’s God to me), there’s another voice in my head today telling me that it’s okay, even productive, to fail. That I’m learning. And growing. That I’m stronger than I think. And that I’m more talented than I believe.

Can you dig it? I’m finding myself. Or actually, I’m finding that I was never lost in the first place.

I just wasn’t looking at the view from the new room of my brick house.  

And now I am.  

 

To Thine Own Self Be True

I  often feel like I don’t “fit”. Not here. Not there. Not anywhere. It’s not like I feel a deep need to fit in…to be honest, I don’t even really see the point. But I have to admit, sometimes it would be nice to feel understood. That’s a very rare circumstance for me. 

Over the years I’ve learned to bend enough to look as if I fit in, but in truth, it’s all an illusion. A mirage that takes an incredible amount of energy to maintain. Frankly, it’s exhausting. And as I age, it becomes more and more important to me that I am always my authentic self (read introverted, quirky, and contemplative) rather than conform to this society’s preference for extraverted, quick-acting, and self-oriented individuals. I want to be true to myself.

This above all:
To thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.

     ~ Shakespeare

So what does it mean to be myself? Good question. What does it mean for any of us to be ourselves? I believe that our truest self comes as we look for answers to the deepest questions of life: Who am I? Why am I here? What is the meaning of life? What is the purpose of human existence? What is the distinction between right and wrong? Who/what is God? What happens when we die? What is time?... So many things to think about. I’ve spent my lifetime (so far) contemplating these things…and it continues. Admittedly, it’s HUGE.

So, to contain my thoughts to my own authenticity, I’ve created a list of what I think I (just me - not necessarily you) really need in my life to be my truest self. It looks like this:

NEW IDEAS TO EXPLORE. If life becomes bland and boring, I wither like a grape on the vine. Exploring each new concept and experience helps me to grow into a better, more complete person. This is an absolute must. 

ALONE TIME. There’s a lack of quality time alone in my life. I use it to recharge and rejuvenate. In solitude, I find the meaning in my existence, ruminate about things that keep me on track, and provide the foundation of my entire being. Need more of it. 

PURPOSE. I can do pretty much anything I set my mind to. I can even do ‘boring and repetitive’ - almost as well as I can do ‘interesting and challenging’ - but I’ll be unhappy with the mundane unless it’s part of a larger purpose. The thing is…for me to actually be happy, there has to be meaning behind what I’m doing. If I have that, even the most boring task has the ability to fill my soul. 

SELF-AWARENESS. When I don’t understand myself - truly, madly, deeply - I feel lost, and I can’t express to others. I have a deep need to know who I am and understand why I do what I do.

DEEP COMMUNICATION. I’m not a party girl. Nor am I a social butterfly. I like in-depth, one-on-one conversations with the intent of mutual understanding. No superficial small talk for this woman. I’m all about exploring feelings, motivations, and getting to the underneath layers of an issue. It scares most people. 

A CREATIVE OUTLET.  I am seeing this as a terrible lack in my life. I think creatively, and I write (not as much as I should), but I want more. Creative expression is my way to express my deepest feelings and to understand my place in this life - without it, I feel hollow and empty. It’s been an issue. I need to fix this. 

FREEDOM. I hate rules. Freaky, but there it is. I’ve always believed that rules are meant to be broken - and frankly, that mindset has caused me a lot of grief in my life. Even after years of having the crap kicked out of me every time I step away from the status quo, I’m still a believer in dreaming big and taking risks. I haven’t been doing it much - especially since my son was born (responsibilities, y’know) - and that leaves me dissatisfied and disappointed in myself. But there is hope for me. I’m coming to realize that showing my son how to deal with getting knocked down (and how to get up, dust off, and keep moving ahead) could be the best thing I’ve ever done for him. Go me!

And there we have it. The most cathartic list I’ve ever made. And look…fitting in isn’t even on it.  

So…as I see it, living as my own authentic being means being rooted in my most deep-seated values, acting out my beliefs, and consistently speaking my truth. It’s about living a life that is a true reflection of of these things. Being true to myself through my thoughts, words and actions. It means that I am willing to sacrifice any relationship, situation or circumstance that violates my truth. 

Clearly, I know what I need to build a lifestyle that will encourage being myself. 

Now to be me. 

 

So What's Next?

How can I become the very best version of myself?  Today, I promised myself that I would decide on my next steps, and after contemplating on it all day, the only thing I know for sure is that I want the next thing I do with my life to take me closer to being who I was created to be.

So what’s next? Growth. Always, always growth. 

In every experience of my life, there has been a moment. You know that split second when you instinctively know that you are either living out the truest, highest expression of yourself…or (and this happens far too often) you really just are not. Well, I want to be able to express the very best of me for the vast majority of my time in this life.

And what does that mean?

To me, the very best part of me is my heart. If I had to describe myself in a single word, that’s what it would be: heart. My heart, in all its strength, and in all its weakness. I have always lived purely from my heart – my head has had to scramble to keep up and validate my emotion-driven actions.

It’s been an issue. For years, I bought into the conservative, traditional drivel that we’re force-fed in this society…emotion is weakness and logic is strength. You can’t even imagine how hard I’ve worked at developing my logical, practical, rational side. It was worth developing for sure. But as for logic being better than emotion… What a crock of shit that turns out to be. Emotion, empathy, sentiment, intuition…these feelings are as valid to our healthy existence as the facts and deductions that make up thinking. One isn’t better than the other – we need a balance of both to survive and each is enhanced by the other. I am strongest with both.

Still, my heart rules. And my heart desires to connect. Connection gives me purpose. And meaning. So being the best version of myself means that I’m connecting…by touching lives. Every. Single. Day. It means that each interaction I have with another human being matters – leaving both of our lives just a little bit better.

But there’s a rub. I’m going to admit here – in front of God and the internet – that I’m actually afraid of connection with others. In connecting, there is potential for misunderstanding. For judgement. For rejection. For betrayal. For pain. It’s happened many times before, and it will most certainly happen again. I’ve retreated to my corner to lick my wounds so many times that it’s become second nature. And here’s what I’ve learned.... Fear is debilitating. Like a nightmare, it’s deceitful. The fact is the pain I fear doesn’t have any real power. All the power is in my fear itself.  And every time I give in to it, my heart loses strength…and my fear gets stronger. Right. So, this has to stop.

Now, the common denominator in all of my fear scenarios is not being valued. If people don’t like me, I’m not valuable. If others judge me, I’m not valuable. If they betray me, I’m not valuable. If they reject me, I’m not valuable. You get the idea. Let’s face it, people are not always going to like me, think I’m right, stand by me, embrace me… Meanwhile, my thoughts, feelings, attitudes, and words have all been coloured by my fear of the opinions of others. What a colossal waste of my energy and heartspace! No more!

So what if others don’t think I’m valuable? I know I am. There. I said it. Better yet, I wrote it down in black and white. From this point on, I’m committed to connection regardless of outside approval. Maybe I’ll step on a few toes and spread myself farther than the boundaries others have expected of me, and that’s okay. I might fall down, and get up again. Maybe I’ll even want to give up on connecting. But I won’t. Because I don’t want to wonder on my deathbed what my life would have been like if I’d persevered…if I’d followed my heart.

I have nothing to prove to anyone but myself. So what’s next? I will simply keep on moving forward, following my heart into becoming who I was created to be.

Finding My People

I want to find my people. I know they’re out there because I’ve found a few of them already. And I know that there are more. Enough to build a community.

I’ve always visualized community as a tapestry; unique strands and individual stitches combining to create amazing patterns and harmony of composition. The common thread that runs through all human beings is that we can’t do it alone. We need a network of friends.

With deep friendship, we risk possible dishonesty, betrayal, or manipulation, so it’s a bit scary…and yet we can’t function properly without it. Friendship – the powerful connection that runs between us - is the lifeblood of human relations. It’s an interesting concept. Unrelated people choose each other through some mysterious mix of alchemy and circumstance. On the surface, the reason for our choice seems obvious; they share our interests, they make us laugh... But is there more to it than that? Lately, I’ve been asking myself why *this* person and not another is helping me weave my tapestry – becoming one of my people? 

So what do I mean by my people?

“Find Your Tribe. You know, the ones that make you feel the most YOU. The ones that lift you up and help you remember who you really are. The ones that remind you that a blip in the road is just that, a blip, and not to mistake it for an earthquake, and even it were to be an earthquake, they’d be there with the Earthquake Emergency Supply Kit. They are the ones that, when you walk out of a room, they make you feel like a better person than when you walked in. They are the ones that, even if you don’t see them face-to-face as often as you’d like, you see them heart to heart. You know, that kind of tribe?”

~ Jennifer Pastiloff 

That’s what I mean.

For the last decade, I’ve focused the bulk of my time on being the best mother I can be, the best wife I can be, and the best daughter I can be. Any time I had left over went into paid work, household management, and random urgencies. Now things are settling down. My son is practically a man, my husband’s health is more stable, my mom is focused on walking the new leg of her life journey, and frankly, I’ve decided that perfect house-hold management is unachievable. 

In this stage of my life, I want more. I want to be part of a naturally-created network of mature, marvelous people; an informal social group of like-minded souls who want inspiration for growth, and encouragement in taking their next self-directed step in life.  A community of positive, warm, fun-loving individuals on a journey to explore, grow, and celebrate life…now that’s something I’d love to invest my time in. I’ve been searching for an existing community like that, but so far, I’ve been unable to locate a group that is right for me. And it occurs to me that I should just build one...

So I am…

• discerning who the people are that I fit with best and whose value system I also ascribe to
• investing myself in getting to know a small number of people a lot better
• reaching out - I’m an introvert, and this part is really challenging for me - wish me luck.

And that's it. No more tiptoe-ingtiptoeing around my need to find a group of people among whom I can be unconditionally loved and accepted, while still staying in alignment with my true nature. I’m choosing unique strands of friendship and initiating individual stitches to create a fabulous life pattern of harmonious composition.

Slowly, but surely, I am going to build the community I’ve always dreamed of being a part of.

I’m finding my people.

I Got Issues... So What?

I have issues. Lots and lots of issues. Starting with an intense nature as default, working through sexual assault as a teen, making various not-so-good choices, almost two years in West Africa showing my socio-political advocacy tendencies, moving into a late (doomed) marriage, an even later pregnancy and the birth of the very best person I’ve ever known (thank you God for entrusting him to me), navigating single motherhood, building a blended family, starting my own business, and in recent years…a leadership position I never imagined for myself… Hah. A run-on sentence like that and I haven’t even scratched the surface. Suffice it to say…I have issues.

We all have issues. So what? Let me say that a little bit louder for the people in the back…

SO WHAT?!?

I haven’t written here for a long time. Over 3 months, in fact. Frankly, I hold my issues responsible. I’ve been feeling small. I haven’t been well physically, relationships have been challenging, and even work (my usual go-to for an energy fill-up) has been draining.

Looking back, I see myself over-thinking, over-analyzing, and over-stressing about so many things that have been outside my control. So much of what happens in my life is about what others are struggling with or need. I feel other people’s emotions the way some see body shape – it’s right in my face, impossible to ignore. It hurts to know that others are hurting. Quite a lot, in fact. The more I stress about it and try to change the circumstances, the more it becomes an addiction to fix things that aren’t mine to fix. The reality is we have no control over anything other than the way we choose to deal with our own reactions and choices. It’s been a hard lesson for me to absorb.

You see, helping others connect with their deepest emotions is my happy place. It makes my brain sparkle and my heart swell. But connecting with emotions isn’t always easy for everyone. You have to be in the right space to access courage and self-awareness. I love to help people find that ability within themselves, but here’s the thing…helping others is a funny concept. There is a very clear distinction between serving others and “fixing” them. And the sweet spot for me has been finding a way to serve…not trying to “fix”.

“Helping” people, by way of telling them what to do, can actually move them away from self-awareness and development. Questions are more serving than direction. Clarity comes from answering – not from following orders. Each of us needs our own experiences and lessons to grow because, as similar as we are in our humanness, every one of us has a unique life with weird and wonderful issues and circumstances of our very own. No one can fix my issues, and I can’t fix issues for anyone else – indeed, the issues may not even need to be “fixed” - but I can serve by being there and standing beside someone as they deal with their own.  

I love what Rachel Remen writes in Kitchen Table Wisdom…

"Service rests on the basic premise that the nature of life is sacred, that life is a holy mystery which has an unknown purpose. When we serve, we know that we belong to life and to that purpose. When you help you see life as weak. When you fix, you see life as broken. When you serve, you see life whole."

And so, I wish to serve instead of fix. Life isn't all about me and my personal need for purpose. It's about being a contributing member of a larger community – one in which we’re all standing together, side-by-side, doing our best to thrive.  And this blog, always written in first person, is one way for me to stand with others facing similar issues to my own. We are all connected.

My name is Margot, and I got issues. 

So What?

Me... Adulting

All my life I’ve felt like a complete fake when it comes to being a grownup. Oh sure, I’ve got the years behind me – 54 to be exact. And the experience. No doubt about it. But really…what IS a grownup? Are we fully grown when we turn 18 and can legally make all of our own life decisions? Or is it when we land our first real job, or pick up the keys to our first house, or when we’re tiredly changing stinky diapers? I can’t say that I felt very grownup at any of those life-changing moments. I guess growing up is different for each of us. For me, the defining moment was when my son made a faux pas that mimicked one I made myself during my very turbulent adolescence. And it was my inner reaction that finally led me to believe I might be growing up. That was last year.

Since the epiphany, I’ve realized so many things. First and foremost, I’ve accepted that despite my parents’ assurances to the contrary, I’m not really that special. There are no fireworks on my birthday (unlike both of my brothers - July 4th & May 24th). Confetti doesn’t rain when I roll out of bed in the morning. No one is cheering from the sidelines just because I manage to do something I’m responsible for. And let’s face it…none of that stuff should happen either. I’ve learned that all I need are a couple of people who love and appreciate me for exactly who I am. That’s it. Kindred spirits who feel like that about me are precious and few, and my being thankful for their belief in me and appreciative of their love is a huge clue that I’m a grownup.

I’ve also determined that my choices cannot ever be blamed on others – they are all on me. For better or for worse, I am in charge of my own physical, mental, and emotional well-being. I can eat properly, or not eat properly. I can exercise or sit on the couch watching Netflix. I can make sure my license sticker is up-to-date or simply forget it. The universe doles out natural consequences, and it’s up to me to decide which ones I want. One choice or the other doesn’t define me as good or bad, but I have accepted that there is only one person in the world who can make these choices…and that’s me. Whatever my choice, the consequence is also my own. Now how adult is that?

My most significant lesson is that I always need to give more than I get. In today’s world we’re brainwashed to feel that our most important purpose is to pursue happiness. We believe we deserve happiness – that it’s our birthright. I’ve come to believe that the pursuit of happiness is a short-sighted ambition. Focusing on simply making myself happy just turns me into a self-oriented taker. That’s not who I want to be. Instead, I try to focus on bringing meaning to my life. Creating meaning might involve putting another person’s needs ahead of my own, and that could mean my own happiness level declines for a bit. But that contribution to the other person’s well-being increases their happiness. And happiness begets happiness. So the happy vibes in my environment increase…and that multiplies and makes more happy vibes. Pretty soon my world is looking very happy. And that happy world feeds my happiness.  So the more happiness I infuse in the lives around me, the happier I am. Every moment that I set aside my own happiness for the sake of others is an investment back into my own happiness. Knowing this makes me feel so grownup!  

Check it out. This is me…adulting. 

Nothing...apparently

There she sat

Thin arms clasped around knees drawn up to her chin

Hiding behind the long black curtain of hair

Her blank eyes focused on the pavement

            beyond the curb

Dropped eyelids twitching restlessly, she

            didn’t even look up as I passed

Toting my bags of vegetables into the room

            to the left of the shattered door

I could feel her silent scream crawl up the

            back of my neck

And my breath…         caught

As icy fingers of prophecy crept along the

            corners of my awareness

She was utterly still as I walked past her on

            the way back to my car

Only the silent, intense hum of her pain resonated against

the hollow ringing of tears falling into infinity

I can’t exhale until the door of my car clicks shut

gulping for breath but the air won’t go past

            the metal bands squeezing my lungs

And there she sat

Thin arms clasped around knees drawn up to her chin

Hiding behind the long black curtain of hair

Her blank eyes focused on the pavement

            beyond the curb

Facebook said her primal screams bounced off the buildings

            rape memories tearing at her soul

                        t o r t u r i n g   h e r

and the ambulance came to pick her up

            again

                        again

                                    again

            they knew her well…normalized her agony

                        took her away

One more manic girl on the street is nothing apparently

            just another body to step over

 

Bad Choices Do Not a Bad Person Make

Guilt. Remorse. Grief. Shame. Humiliation. Regret. That’s what making a bad choice feels like in the end. And there are many, many times when we find ourselves navigating around difficult choices. Let’s face it. Too often, clear options are right in front of us, and we just can't decide which one to choose. Oh, we might be sure in our heart of hearts what the right choice is, but even so...there's always the chance that we'll still decide to make the “wrong” one.

Our lives are chock-full of moments when we feel as if we’re standing at a fork in the road, considering two potential directions, and wondering which one we should take. There are times when we immediately realize that we’re lost, unsure of which route will ultimately get us home. There are also times when we just know that a particular choice will lead us further away but we’re so intrigued with the possibilities that we want to take that direction. And so we do. The amazing and brilliant thing about life is that our route options are pretty unlimited. We don't need to feel like there’s never going to be another option. Still… the concept of having to make a choice can be absolutely petrifying. 

We’re faced with choice after choice after choice during the course of our lives, so let’s face it…there’s no getting around the fact that we’re going to make a few mistakes along the way.  Life is complicated. So… What if I don’t have the slightest idea what the best choice might be?  Or even if I do know what social norms consider the right choice, but I choose the other option? And it’s wrong…  I have to say that it feels horrible to make the wrong choice…and it feels even worse to make the wrong choice when you actually knew in your heart the entire time that it was wrong. There’s nothing that erodes my self-respect more deeply than sitting in the symbolic rubble of my bad decision and having the knowledge that I actually knew from the get-go that I was making the wrong choice. Why the hell did I do it???

Maybe because:

• I just wanted to feel good in the moment…
• I feel like I’m gonna fail anyway, so why not…
• I want other people to feel better…
• Someone else thinks it’s the right choice…
• I’m trying to live up to expectations…

Or…the scariest option of all.  Maybe I just want to stay stuck. That way I don’t have to take risks, or put in the hard work that change requires…

A lot of bad decisions come from chronic self-criticism and our tendency to dwell on the most negative parts of ourselves. We concentrate on the negative, and it strips us of all our motivation to take any positive steps forward. We make a million excuses, or want to look back and see how our childhood and past experiences have affected our thought processes and belief systems. But yesterday is the wrong thing to look at. Our view should be of today and tomorrow. No matter how you slice and dice it, who cares how we got to the place we’re in. We can’t fix yesterday.

The bottom line is that making excuses for our bad decisions comes from one of a few basic fears: 

• The fear of self-accountability…
• Being afraid to face the concept of failure…
• The fear that someone won’t like us…
• Fear that we’re just not good enough…

And realistically, the excuses are worth nothing anyway.  In the end, there’s no way around it. We’re going to have to face our fears. We have to take responsibility for our bad decisions. They’re our decisions. No rationalization, no wild selection of excuses and no amount of pretense will keep us from being to blame for them. In order to move forward, we simply have to take responsibility for our choices, our actions, and all related consequences of those actions.

There’s always a price to pay for our bad decisions in the end. But we all make bad choices. Each and every one of us. So we just have to be prepared to accept accountability for every outcome of our decisions. And then, when we do choose badly, we can’t just sit there feeling sorry for ourselves. We have to get up, dust ourselves off, make reparations where possible...and move forward. 

Bad choices do not a bad person make.

It's Not About Me...

I’ve often been criticized for being “too empathetic”…a “bleeding heart”… “too concerned with the feelings of others”…“too sensitive about what friends need instead of your own needs”...  It’s true. I looked up the definition of empathy, and I am it.

Merriam-Webster's definition of empathy: the action of understanding, being aware of, being sensitive to, and vicariously experiencing the feelings, thoughts, and experience of another of either the past or present without having the feelings, thoughts, and experience fully communicated in an objectively explicit manner.

And although I recognize the truth in the criticism, I can’t help but feel a twinge of self-love over it.  I care about others.  I understand people and I “feel” them.  Is that bad?

Maybe.

It’s not particularly easy to deal with feeling compelled to go to anyone experiencing pain. And people typically don’t appreciate that I can tell they’re angry, troubled or distressed - especially when they’re going to great lengths to hide it from the world.  Let’s face it.  We live in a society where it’s un-cool to be deeply connected. We don’t cry. We don’t reach out. We don't share. We don’t trust. The motto we live by is “never let them see you sweat”.

The challenge for empathetic people is to sift through all the feelings that bleed through the walls others have built around themselves. Emotional connections aren’t static, they ebb and flow. And they seep around the edges of the barriers we put up.  Those who are naturally attuned to feelings, feel them. It’s important to understanding what our loved ones want, desire or care about. And we’re ineffective as parents, partners, family members, friends and colleagues if we’re unable to imagine life through someone else’s eyes. This ability gives us insight, connection and the opportunity to help where needed. It’s a gift to feel the emotions of others. 

But there’s a flip side. A dark and dangerous side that can transform into a curse if you let it. Because I’m particularly sensitive to the emotions of others, I often have difficulty processing everything I absorb from other people. Oh, I can tell they’re in pain – whether it’s grief, sadness, anger, frustration or disappointment – I can always tell it’s there. But I don’t always know why. 

Being drawn to people who are in pain, within a society that hides feelings away like dirty secrets, I experience more than my share of people telling me that “it’s just my imagination”, “I’m fine – nothing’s wrong” and “stay out of my head”. Not that I can read minds, but people get a bit touchy when they realize that you know there’s something wrong even though they’re hiding it.  And that reaction feels like others are always judging me as “wrong”. It feels invalidating. And painful. It feels like it’s about me. 

But only if I let it.

My lessons in managing the gift of empathy:

• Empathy can be my gift or my curse…and that’s up to me. 
• Privacy is privacy.  If feelings are being hidden, someone’s not ready to acknowledge them.  Don’t force it.
• Feeling the emotion is one thing, but I cannot possibly know the root of where it’s coming from.
• Internalizing someone else’s feelings is not a good choice.
• When I bring my beliefs, expectations and worldview into the equation, I’m bastardizing the feeling – now it’s not theirs, it’s mine.   

Big lessons for me. So now, when feel the feelings of others surround me, I try to be more objective. I make every attempt to provide the respectful privacy the other person deserves. I resist internalizing something I don’t understand the root of. I allow the other person the space to work through it on their own. And I make a conscious decision not to imagine a reason for the existence of those feelings. 

In other words, I remind myself that it’s not about me.

Can You Handle the Truth?

There are days that just take me further and further away from my truth. They drive me right down the dark path that leads into that lonely place where, no matter how fervently I pray for a hero to rescue me, I know deep in my heart that I’m going to have to conquer my fears alone.

I have options. There’s no doubt that I can enlist my few close friends to support the concept that I’m hurting and require validation. Or convincing them to accept my opinion that others are the cause of my pain. And even though my friends are sure to stand firmly at my back no matter what, deep down inside I know that I’m simply indulging in a self-deceiving diversion tactic – a way of marking time. I’m really just taking the opportunity to catch my breath and build up enough energy to do what must be done. And I even know what that is. I need to speak my truth. Simply. Confidently. Frankly.

An introvert by nature, speaking my truth does not come easily to me. Oh, I know my truth. And I understand it very well. I just don’t verbalize it often. I really don’t feel any desire to share my thoughts. If anything, I constantly resist encouragement to share my thoughts. There’s a huge piece of me that’s perfectly comfortable with exploring my own mind - alone. I think A LOT. I imagine. I work everything through inside my head like a perpetual puzzle I’m solving. So more often than not, I neglect to interact verbally. I listen, but I don’t talk. I process, but I don’t explain. Except for the times when it all spills out in my writing (or the occasional angsty moment), my thoughts remain happily living inside my head. To my own detriment.

It’s a huge disservice that we do ourselves by keeping quiet with our truth.  When we don’t stand up for our beliefs, when we don’t express the truth about how we feel, it drains us of our self-worth and perpetuates our feelings of isolation from our larger community. I know that’s how it affects me. And then the big question becomes, how do I increase my sense of my own value and worth?  I’m pretty convinced the answer is to start expressing the truth about how I think and feel. 

Most of us regard non-expression of feelings as a legitimate form of privacy, but that’s not always true. Certainly there’s a huge difference between privacy and secrets, and yet one can easily be confused with the other when we try to justify our need to protect ourselves. I'm sure you know exactly what I mean. There are some bits of information that are nobody’s business. Not mine, not yours, not anyone else’s. And that’s the truth. But then there are other bits…the kind of information that when left to fester or develop undetected will corrupt your soul from the inside out. Holding those bits in will demolish our own sense of self-worth, and irreparably damage our interactions with those we love.

One of my own personal weaknesses is the belief that I actually serve others by putting their needs ahead of my own. Through consistent trial and error, I have come to the conclusion that I best serve others in any given situation by being clear about what I want – by truthfully expressing my needs. Not through covert manipulations that are intended to trick others into accepting my own hidden agenda, but through honest, open communication of my needs and desires. In short, by telling my truth.

And although it’s a big temptation to think that you’re telling your truth for the good of others, it's really important to know that you tell your truth for you. Sure, it may have some effect on other people, even if they give you no indication whatsoever that the telling of your truth has affected them. But the biggest impact is on you. I mean, really...I write this blog - in this painfully transparent manner, I might add - in order to tell MY truth.  And this seriously impacts me.

So many of us get into trouble in our relationships and at work because we aren’t willing to tell the truth as we see it. We don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. We fear rejection or ridicule. We would really rather avoid facing what we're feeling. We're so afraid that the people we care about won’t be able to love us if they know what’s really inside us, that we'd rather do or say anything but our truth. And yet, deep in our hearts, we know what needs to be done. 

Telling our truth isn’t always easy, but I believe that it’s the foundation of meaningful connection, close relationships and authentic happiness in so many areas of our lives. Let’s face it. Life is short and we aren’t guaranteed a tomorrow, so it’s important to take this chance right now to express our truth to the people we love; to be honest with them and with ourselves. Let’s be real, be our true selves, share our thoughts and our ideas…and most importantly…

Let’s speak our truth.