With the start of a new year there's this push to anticipate the future and work toward transformation in the form of resolutions or vision maps. Some people have discussed the idea of choosing a theme for their year.
I decided I like the idea of having a theme word for 2010. Something to hold in my heart as an area where, hopefully, my life's landscape is nurtured.
Here is the word I settled on:
communion [kəˈmjuːnjən]
n
1. an exchange of thoughts, emotions, etc.
2. possession or sharing in common; participation
3. (foll by with) strong emotional or spiritual feelings (for) communion with nature
4. (Christianity / Ecclesiastical Terms) a religious group or denomination having a common body of beliefs, doctrines, and practices
5. (Christianity / Ecclesiastical Terms) the spiritual union held by Christians to exist between individual Christians and Christ, their Church, or their fellow Christians
[from Latin commūniō general participation, from commūnis common]
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Courage and Cowardice
Over the past couple of days I've been seeing a theme emerge in the Facebook and Twitter posts of people I follow online. The theme is courage.
We need courage to live. There are so many things in this life that can make us fearful. Just a cursory look at the evening news can be disheartening because there are so many negative things happening around our cities, states and nation. The economy, unemployment, the crime rate... I just saw a quick blurb about a 12-year old who had been robbed. That's right, a 12-year old. A child. Robbed. Who would rob a child? It's crazy and scary.
Seemingly easy things, too, like beginning a new friendship, can cause the heart to shrink in fear. All sorts of thoughts race through the mind. What if this person rejects me? What if this person isn't who he/she seems to be? What if this person ends up stabbing me in the back? What if I fail him or her?
If we let it, fear can relentlessly dog every step we take as we go about our lives. It can be like an emotional or psychological vampire that leaves us merely existing, like we become undead ourselves.
I know a bit about this from personal experience. While I haven't been robbed recently, I have had enough experience with being rejected, betrayed and deceived to make me afraid of people and relationships.
I've been teased by work associates for being antisocial. I prefer to call myself selectively social. The reality is that people scare me. I tend to see the potential for harm as much greater than the potential for good.
Sad, isn't it?
I can do the buddy thing, to a point. In theory, that's fairly easy because buddies don't really invest a lot in each others' lives. You hang out and shoot the breeze then, when the hanging out and breeze shooting is done, you go home with your inner world safely untouched because you only showed up as a small part of who you really are. It's relating, but it's safe relating because it doesn't go very deep.
I can only do the buddy thing to a point because I get really impatient with how shallow it all feels. I mean, if we're not going to show up as who we really are, in all of who we really are, then why even bother? If it's just about being entertained then I can watch a Jeff Dunham DVD in the solitude of my own home and laugh at Achmed the Dead Terrorist or Peanut and forgo being concerned about whether my sense of humor unnerves someone. That would feel more honest to me.
My dilemma is that I truly, in my heart of hearts, don't believe it's about being entertained. In my heart of hearts, I believe that it's about real connections with authentic people showing up in the totality of who they are.
That scares me. I scare me. I fear that I'll make someone so uncomfortable he or she will close off and their personal walls will come crashing down - SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! Or I'll get that glazed look that comes over a person's face when he or she neither comprehends nor cares to comprehend whatever it is I'm saying. Or I'll show up and simply, profoundly not belong.
Have any of these scenarios actually played out in real life? Oh, yes. Yes. They have. More than once or twice.
So...I'm admittedly scared of people.
I also hate cowardice. I saw plenty of cowardice growing up - the refusal to honestly admit something or deal with difficult, emotionally charged issues with a fully engaged heart. I hated it. I do not want to be the sort of person who just glosses things over or refuses to see what's true just because something is hard.
In addition, I learned to disconnect very early on. I spent more than 30 years disconnected from myself which, unsurprisingly, made it easy to stay fairly disconnected from everyone else. It's hard to deeply connect with someone when you're not really present in your own skin.
Reconnecting to myself was hard and took a lot of work. Connecting to others is harder still because, while I can't leave me, others can leave on a whim. They have and, in all likelihood, will. I hate that, but it's reality. Facing that glaring reality makes me want to hide.
But...
I do not want to be a coward.
However, as I look back over the past few years, years which saw me crater into such a deep depression that I put myself on medication after experiencing multiple betrayals and the sudden death of a loved one, I see that I have become a coward.
So I'm torn. On one side of the coin is my fear of people, of relationships, on the other is my powerful dislike of my own cowardice. And, honestly, I occasionally wonder if I just suck at relationships. Is it that I'm just someone who is so bad at them that the natural result is inevitably going to be rejection or betrayal simply because it's me? I don't think so, but the question still shows up.
In spite of it all, I'm sensing hope grow. Seeing the Facebook and Twitter posts about courage encourages me. Maybe I'm reading more into them than is actually there. At this juncture, I don't care if I am.
I'll take hope, and I'll take courage, where I can find them. I need them.
Don't you need hope and courage, too?
We need courage to live. There are so many things in this life that can make us fearful. Just a cursory look at the evening news can be disheartening because there are so many negative things happening around our cities, states and nation. The economy, unemployment, the crime rate... I just saw a quick blurb about a 12-year old who had been robbed. That's right, a 12-year old. A child. Robbed. Who would rob a child? It's crazy and scary.
Seemingly easy things, too, like beginning a new friendship, can cause the heart to shrink in fear. All sorts of thoughts race through the mind. What if this person rejects me? What if this person isn't who he/she seems to be? What if this person ends up stabbing me in the back? What if I fail him or her?
If we let it, fear can relentlessly dog every step we take as we go about our lives. It can be like an emotional or psychological vampire that leaves us merely existing, like we become undead ourselves.
I know a bit about this from personal experience. While I haven't been robbed recently, I have had enough experience with being rejected, betrayed and deceived to make me afraid of people and relationships.
I've been teased by work associates for being antisocial. I prefer to call myself selectively social. The reality is that people scare me. I tend to see the potential for harm as much greater than the potential for good.
Sad, isn't it?
I can do the buddy thing, to a point. In theory, that's fairly easy because buddies don't really invest a lot in each others' lives. You hang out and shoot the breeze then, when the hanging out and breeze shooting is done, you go home with your inner world safely untouched because you only showed up as a small part of who you really are. It's relating, but it's safe relating because it doesn't go very deep.
I can only do the buddy thing to a point because I get really impatient with how shallow it all feels. I mean, if we're not going to show up as who we really are, in all of who we really are, then why even bother? If it's just about being entertained then I can watch a Jeff Dunham DVD in the solitude of my own home and laugh at Achmed the Dead Terrorist or Peanut and forgo being concerned about whether my sense of humor unnerves someone. That would feel more honest to me.
My dilemma is that I truly, in my heart of hearts, don't believe it's about being entertained. In my heart of hearts, I believe that it's about real connections with authentic people showing up in the totality of who they are.
That scares me. I scare me. I fear that I'll make someone so uncomfortable he or she will close off and their personal walls will come crashing down - SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! Or I'll get that glazed look that comes over a person's face when he or she neither comprehends nor cares to comprehend whatever it is I'm saying. Or I'll show up and simply, profoundly not belong.
Have any of these scenarios actually played out in real life? Oh, yes. Yes. They have. More than once or twice.
So...I'm admittedly scared of people.
I also hate cowardice. I saw plenty of cowardice growing up - the refusal to honestly admit something or deal with difficult, emotionally charged issues with a fully engaged heart. I hated it. I do not want to be the sort of person who just glosses things over or refuses to see what's true just because something is hard.
In addition, I learned to disconnect very early on. I spent more than 30 years disconnected from myself which, unsurprisingly, made it easy to stay fairly disconnected from everyone else. It's hard to deeply connect with someone when you're not really present in your own skin.
Reconnecting to myself was hard and took a lot of work. Connecting to others is harder still because, while I can't leave me, others can leave on a whim. They have and, in all likelihood, will. I hate that, but it's reality. Facing that glaring reality makes me want to hide.
But...
I do not want to be a coward.
However, as I look back over the past few years, years which saw me crater into such a deep depression that I put myself on medication after experiencing multiple betrayals and the sudden death of a loved one, I see that I have become a coward.
So I'm torn. On one side of the coin is my fear of people, of relationships, on the other is my powerful dislike of my own cowardice. And, honestly, I occasionally wonder if I just suck at relationships. Is it that I'm just someone who is so bad at them that the natural result is inevitably going to be rejection or betrayal simply because it's me? I don't think so, but the question still shows up.
In spite of it all, I'm sensing hope grow. Seeing the Facebook and Twitter posts about courage encourages me. Maybe I'm reading more into them than is actually there. At this juncture, I don't care if I am.
I'll take hope, and I'll take courage, where I can find them. I need them.
Don't you need hope and courage, too?
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Dead Weight
My heart has been stirring in me for a while now, directing me toward a big move. This will be the biggest move I've made since graduating high school.
I grew up in the Houston area. After high school, I moved to the Dallas-Fort Worth area to attend college. I've been here ever since.
For the past few months, I've been feeling the pull to relocate to a new city. This means a new job, a new place to live and a completely new life. It's particularly challenging because I'm not one to just up and leave.
I've worked for the same organization for 19 years. I've been in the same apartment for 16 years. During the course of my time here I've accumulated stuff. A lot of stuff.
This week I started the process of downsizing. I'm giving stuff away to friends or donating it to Goodwill. Some of the stuff might be considered valuable.
I had a bunch of etched glassware that I gave to a friend. She asked me if the pieces are antiques. I think, since the pieces are at least 70 years old, that etched glassware might be considered antique by some. I don't really know. I don't really care.
I do know that, regardless of how old these pieces might be, they're just stuff.
Really, they're just items. Things. I don't really need them.
There's a difference between what I need and what I want. Most days, I forget that.
So, now I'm in the process of downsizing. I simply don't know what to do with some of the things I've been keeping. Old slides, photos and yearbooks, where the only people who might have some emotional attachment to them are dead.
The question that comes to mind as I process through things is this - When does it become dead weight?
I'm admittedly at the early stages of recovery from being a packrat. The easy way is to hang onto stuff. It's also a bit lazy, I suspect. Just put it way and don't think about it.
The problem with being a packrat is that, eventually, a time will come when the hard work of cleaning house is necessary. We can't spend our lives lugging around things that have been passed down from earlier generations. A lot of it proves to be dead weight.
This is true of emotional and attitudinal things, as well. Downsizing takes work, particularly if it hasn't been done in a while. But I don't think we can live in freedom without it.
As you look at your life, what are you hanging onto that's become dead weight?
I grew up in the Houston area. After high school, I moved to the Dallas-Fort Worth area to attend college. I've been here ever since.
For the past few months, I've been feeling the pull to relocate to a new city. This means a new job, a new place to live and a completely new life. It's particularly challenging because I'm not one to just up and leave.
I've worked for the same organization for 19 years. I've been in the same apartment for 16 years. During the course of my time here I've accumulated stuff. A lot of stuff.
This week I started the process of downsizing. I'm giving stuff away to friends or donating it to Goodwill. Some of the stuff might be considered valuable.
I had a bunch of etched glassware that I gave to a friend. She asked me if the pieces are antiques. I think, since the pieces are at least 70 years old, that etched glassware might be considered antique by some. I don't really know. I don't really care.
I do know that, regardless of how old these pieces might be, they're just stuff.
Really, they're just items. Things. I don't really need them.
There's a difference between what I need and what I want. Most days, I forget that.
So, now I'm in the process of downsizing. I simply don't know what to do with some of the things I've been keeping. Old slides, photos and yearbooks, where the only people who might have some emotional attachment to them are dead.
The question that comes to mind as I process through things is this - When does it become dead weight?
I'm admittedly at the early stages of recovery from being a packrat. The easy way is to hang onto stuff. It's also a bit lazy, I suspect. Just put it way and don't think about it.
The problem with being a packrat is that, eventually, a time will come when the hard work of cleaning house is necessary. We can't spend our lives lugging around things that have been passed down from earlier generations. A lot of it proves to be dead weight.
This is true of emotional and attitudinal things, as well. Downsizing takes work, particularly if it hasn't been done in a while. But I don't think we can live in freedom without it.
As you look at your life, what are you hanging onto that's become dead weight?
Thursday, April 23, 2009
I'm Not Crazy, I'm Gifted
Not too long ago, a friend proposed the idea that I might be "gifted" and suggested that I connect with a dear friend of hers, a life coach whose focus is gifted children and their parents. I was rather surprised to think that I might be gifted. Honestly, the idea had never entered my mind. I was used to thinking of myself as a lot of things, but never gifted.
Once I connected with Lisa, and we began to talk, I started sharing some of my thoughts and feelings with her. I didn't hide anything. I didn't hide the things about myself that I see as negatives. Her response to me was, "That's classic in gifted people."
It has taken time to adjust to the idea. As I've continued to communicate with Lisa and research what it means to be gifted I find myself becoming much kinder to myself.
Today, I was reading a couple of online articles about being gifted. I found one on the Talent Development Resources site, and the other on the Supporting Emotional Needs of the Gifted site.
I noticed that both articles said very similar things in their descriptions of the gifted adult. Both articles described traits of a gifted person, addressing the postive and the negative of each characteristic. One of the articles mentioned that the people on whom the article was based exhibited three of the traits discussed.
I recognized myself in both articles. Each trait described is one that I exhibit. Not one or two or three. All of them.
As I continue to research what it means to be gifted, I'm beginning to realize that the isolation I've felt my whole life, the sense of being a weird sort of freakish, high-maintenance and needy person doesn't mean that there's something inherently wrong with me. It doesn't mean I'm crazy. It means I'm gifted.
That's such a load off my shoulders. I'm still amazed by the whole thing. But I'm also sensing a freedom that is new and delightful.
So, what about you? Have you ever considered that perhaps you, too, are gifted?
Once I connected with Lisa, and we began to talk, I started sharing some of my thoughts and feelings with her. I didn't hide anything. I didn't hide the things about myself that I see as negatives. Her response to me was, "That's classic in gifted people."
It has taken time to adjust to the idea. As I've continued to communicate with Lisa and research what it means to be gifted I find myself becoming much kinder to myself.
Today, I was reading a couple of online articles about being gifted. I found one on the Talent Development Resources site, and the other on the Supporting Emotional Needs of the Gifted site.
I noticed that both articles said very similar things in their descriptions of the gifted adult. Both articles described traits of a gifted person, addressing the postive and the negative of each characteristic. One of the articles mentioned that the people on whom the article was based exhibited three of the traits discussed.
I recognized myself in both articles. Each trait described is one that I exhibit. Not one or two or three. All of them.
As I continue to research what it means to be gifted, I'm beginning to realize that the isolation I've felt my whole life, the sense of being a weird sort of freakish, high-maintenance and needy person doesn't mean that there's something inherently wrong with me. It doesn't mean I'm crazy. It means I'm gifted.
That's such a load off my shoulders. I'm still amazed by the whole thing. But I'm also sensing a freedom that is new and delightful.
So, what about you? Have you ever considered that perhaps you, too, are gifted?
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