Virtually every personality assessment I have ever done, shows that words are important to me. Recently, I read the book The 5 Love Languages. That book revealed to me that my primary love language is words of affirmations. Simply put: I need words to fill up my love tank.
Conversely, how I am most injured is through words. When someone does not keep their word to me in big matters (fidelity in a relationship) or small matters (being on time), it is unsettling to me. It can make me feel like the rug has been pulled from beneath me because words are my foundation. Words are how I metabolize my life. If I digest words that are unhealthy, I feel unsettled at my core.
When I am unsettled at my core, I do what many humans do when threaten, I see only two options: fight or flight. What I am coming to realize is that there is a third option and this third option will call upon me to gain greater insight into who I am. This third option may enable me to reach a higher level of spirituality.
In the book Conversations with God, it discusses creating higher and a higher version of you, as the way to the path of enlightenment. I need to create a version of me that is comfortable expressing my vulnerability. That is my third option.
I want to create a version of me that is willing to be courageous enough to tell others: Who I am; and what I want. I want a version of me that tells this truth in manner that is not derived from anger (which is a mask for fear); but rather extending from a place of wanting to be clear and truthful. Instead of “How dare you do XYZ to me?!” and “I will punish you by any means necessary.” I want to have the courage to say, “When you did XYZ, it made me feel disrespected and dispensable.” And “At my core, I know you respect me, so help me align these two incongruent experiences with you.”
The former approach makes me feel right and powerful. The latter makes me feel human.
Years of therapy has certainly given me the knowledge about mirroring, empathetic statements and other effective communication tools. Despite this knowledge, my degree in communications and my years working as a spoken work artist, it was not until recently that I had the epiphany that I am not very good at expressing who I am and what I want. I have fallen into a pattern of expressing what I will not allow; and what I am capable of doing if one crosses that line. The two modes of expressions may seem similar from a distance; but upon closer inspection, I can see that one stems from love and the other from fear. I want to create a higher version of me that chooses the path to love.
Showing posts with label fears. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fears. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
To Climb or Fly on the Journey
You can climb out of the valley stumbling and fumbling forward, with bleeding knuckles, scrapped knees and bruised feet, or you can fly. It really is all a choice. The choice is about what risks you are willing to take.
Climbing can certainly be safer. Depending on how long you have been in the valley, your wings may not seem to be in good condition. Your wings may be bent, bruised or even broken. However, the truth of the matter is, many do not even believe they have wings.
Flying out of the valley is literally a leap of faith. You must leap over your greatest fears, without any safety net. You must catapult yourself above the criticism and naysayers both external and internal, without any assurances that you will be successful.
Climb or fly? The choice is easy, right? Hardly. When given the choice many choose the former. Why? A common reason is that it feels like the secure choice. It is the choice many are most familiar. It is the choice most others will support. It is the choice many have been conditioned to accept by family and community.
On my journey, in some areas I made the choice to fly. Leaving a corporate job to become a professional storyteller would certainly be one of those flying moments. It was not a hard choice, despite being recently divorced, a mother of a toddler and a new homeowner. Everything unfolded in a Divine manner. Since taking flight, I have had no regrets. Certainly, I have had obstacles, disappointments and setback; however, I never looked backed or mourned the yesterdays.
In other areas, I have been far more fearful and cautious. In manners of the heart, I have wallowed in past hurts and disappointments. Much of my time has been spent examining where I have been; instead of where I am going. I cannot count the hours I have spent lamenting about who did what to whom; instead of celebrating the opportunity to now attract what I really wanted.
In a poem I wrote entitled, Sangin’ the Blues, I challenged myself to look at a broken heart from a new perspective. You can check out the poem below. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions on how I can sprout some wings, let me know.
When the heart breaks,
It spits wide open.
Then all your dreams
All the things
You’ve been hopin’
Are now possible
And the possibilities
Are limitless.
So the next time
You are broken hearted
Put it to the test.
Look at it
As an opportunity
To do things differently.
Make room
For greater things.
Just see
What Spirit brings.
I affirm
You will find
A higher consciousness
That will bring you
Peace
Joy
And Bliss.
What do you have to lose
If I am wrong,
You can go on back to
Sangin’ the Blues.
Climbing can certainly be safer. Depending on how long you have been in the valley, your wings may not seem to be in good condition. Your wings may be bent, bruised or even broken. However, the truth of the matter is, many do not even believe they have wings.
Flying out of the valley is literally a leap of faith. You must leap over your greatest fears, without any safety net. You must catapult yourself above the criticism and naysayers both external and internal, without any assurances that you will be successful.
Climb or fly? The choice is easy, right? Hardly. When given the choice many choose the former. Why? A common reason is that it feels like the secure choice. It is the choice many are most familiar. It is the choice most others will support. It is the choice many have been conditioned to accept by family and community.
On my journey, in some areas I made the choice to fly. Leaving a corporate job to become a professional storyteller would certainly be one of those flying moments. It was not a hard choice, despite being recently divorced, a mother of a toddler and a new homeowner. Everything unfolded in a Divine manner. Since taking flight, I have had no regrets. Certainly, I have had obstacles, disappointments and setback; however, I never looked backed or mourned the yesterdays.
In other areas, I have been far more fearful and cautious. In manners of the heart, I have wallowed in past hurts and disappointments. Much of my time has been spent examining where I have been; instead of where I am going. I cannot count the hours I have spent lamenting about who did what to whom; instead of celebrating the opportunity to now attract what I really wanted.
In a poem I wrote entitled, Sangin’ the Blues, I challenged myself to look at a broken heart from a new perspective. You can check out the poem below. In the meantime, if you have any suggestions on how I can sprout some wings, let me know.
Sangin’ the Blues
When the heart breaks,
It spits wide open.
Then all your dreams
All the things
You’ve been hopin’
Are now possible
And the possibilities
Are limitless.
So the next time
You are broken hearted
Put it to the test.
Look at it
As an opportunity
To do things differently.
Make room
For greater things.
Just see
What Spirit brings.
I affirm
You will find
A higher consciousness
That will bring you
Peace
Joy
And Bliss.
What do you have to lose
If I am wrong,
You can go on back to
Sangin’ the Blues.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Tools to Use in the Valley
Living a life on purpose is not without its challenges. Without question, doing what you love and making a living at it is very rewarding. However, like all journeys, it has within it, mountain top experiences and valley experiences.
In the 17 years I have been a professional storyteller, the valley experiences have included:
In the 17 years I have been a professional storyteller, the valley experiences have included:
- Drastic fluctuations in my income
- Feelings of isolation from working independently
- Sacrificing personal luxuries to maintain financial stability
- Journaling: It is the best and cheapest brand of therapy.
- Prayer/Meditation: If I am consistently spending time in quiet reflection, it gives me an inner calm that often can override the outer chaos.
- Support Circle: It has been a blessing to be in a circle of people who can encourage and inspire me when I am in the valley. The organizations, National Association of Black Storytellers and Keepers of the Culture have given me immeasurable support on this journey. My own circle of family and friends have also given me unwavering support. If you do not have such a support circle in your life, it may be time to change your flock.
Whatever path you take, just remember that the valley is the space between two mountains.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Unexpected Company in the Valley
A dear sister-friend came to my mind the other day. It had been some time since we had talked. Refusing to make excuses about why I should not call in that instant and rejecting the notion that a text would be a quicker, less intrusive way to reach out; I picked up the phone and called her.
When I asked how she was doing, she did not give me that standard, "Fine." Instead, she answered the question honestly and courageously. She told me she was in a healing crisis of the heart.
Applauding her willing willingness to answer with such bravery, I briefly let her in on my own healing of the heart. My desire in sharing that story was to let her know she was not alone. My other motive was the hope that my tale about my grieving process might aid her in some way.
Our conversation was brief. I suggested she read the poem, The Invitation. The book (by the same name) gave me such comfort in the earlier stages of my loss. It gave me permission to fall.
Today, I sent a quick to my friend to update her on my progress. I share that note with you below, for the same reason.
When I asked how she was doing, she did not give me that standard, "Fine." Instead, she answered the question honestly and courageously. She told me she was in a healing crisis of the heart.
Applauding her willing willingness to answer with such bravery, I briefly let her in on my own healing of the heart. My desire in sharing that story was to let her know she was not alone. My other motive was the hope that my tale about my grieving process might aid her in some way.
Our conversation was brief. I suggested she read the poem, The Invitation. The book (by the same name) gave me such comfort in the earlier stages of my loss. It gave me permission to fall.
Today, I sent a quick to my friend to update her on my progress. I share that note with you below, for the same reason.
Seven months into my descent. Some days it feels like I am gliding on the wind and there are beautiful, lushish, green landscapes all about. Other days it feels like I am diving head-first into a jutting cliff.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The Ascent Out of the Valley
The cloud cover on my heart and spirit is lifting. What's strange is: part of me wants to stay up under those dark clouds. It feels comfortable. Being checked out is getting to be comfortable.
However, there is another part of me that is ready to rise up out of the valley. That part of me knows it is time to start my ascent.
As the clouds clear, it is reasonable to expect my thoughts to still go back to what happened. The details of the storm that led to my descent will certainly still come to mind. Surveying the damage after the storm is normal. For a short time, I will be allowed to go back. Mourning what has been lost is natural. Retrieving what can be salvaged is expected.
Then, it is time to vacate the valley because it is not safe to stay any longer. An Authority comes to tell me to evacuate now. The directive is firm but gentle.
As I begin my ascent, I look back over my shoulder to look at the wreckage. It feels surreal. A sadness sweeps over me. Simultaneously, I feel a firm yet compassionate Presence leading me out of the dark into the sunlight.
Micheal Bernard Beckwith talks about three kinds of darkness:
1) Gestation Darkness: When something is about to be birthed from you.
2) Shedding Darkness: When a part of you that no longer serves you dies off.
3) Blinding Darkness: When you look directly into God's light and the brilliance temporarily takes away your sight.
All three seems to apply to my recent valley experience.
As the clouds lift, I am having trouble adjusting to the light. Still I put one foot in front of the other and move towards the light.
My footsteps may be wobbly. My muscles may have atrophy. Yet, I still go forward into the light.
However, there is another part of me that is ready to rise up out of the valley. That part of me knows it is time to start my ascent.
As the clouds clear, it is reasonable to expect my thoughts to still go back to what happened. The details of the storm that led to my descent will certainly still come to mind. Surveying the damage after the storm is normal. For a short time, I will be allowed to go back. Mourning what has been lost is natural. Retrieving what can be salvaged is expected.
Then, it is time to vacate the valley because it is not safe to stay any longer. An Authority comes to tell me to evacuate now. The directive is firm but gentle.
As I begin my ascent, I look back over my shoulder to look at the wreckage. It feels surreal. A sadness sweeps over me. Simultaneously, I feel a firm yet compassionate Presence leading me out of the dark into the sunlight.
Micheal Bernard Beckwith talks about three kinds of darkness:
1) Gestation Darkness: When something is about to be birthed from you.
2) Shedding Darkness: When a part of you that no longer serves you dies off.
3) Blinding Darkness: When you look directly into God's light and the brilliance temporarily takes away your sight.
All three seems to apply to my recent valley experience.
As the clouds lift, I am having trouble adjusting to the light. Still I put one foot in front of the other and move towards the light.
My footsteps may be wobbly. My muscles may have atrophy. Yet, I still go forward into the light.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
What if you are Wrong?
Do you carry a memory of past hurts and disappointments? Is there someone you need to forgive? Forgiveness is about releasing your need for revenge. Forgiveness is about freeing yourself. Forgiveness is NOT about sanctioning the behavior of the offender.
Surely all of us have been harmed or disappointed by another. The key is what you DO with those feelings of pain and disappointments. Do you hold on to the memory, believing by doing so you are insuring that the person responsible is held accountable? I have heard many spiritual teachers describe this type of behavior: “Taking poison and expecting someone else to get sick.”
Few things are more poisonous than holding on to past hurts. It impedes your progress on the journey. It as if you shackle your feet with cement blocks and then attempt to run. Clearly, there is a better method of taking the journey.
Iyanla Vanzant describes the Law of Forgiveness in her book, Acts of Faith, as: “Infusing the mind with natural healthy ideas that take away the darkness and bring in the light.”
When you bring in the light, you will find peace and happiness. When you hold on to hurts, you may certainly feel RIGHT and JUST, but you rarely feel peaceful or happy. I pose to you the question popularized by Dr. Phil, “Would you rather be right or happy?”
Still not convinced?
Consider these questions: What if you are wrong? What if the reasons why you think, the person acted in the way that you, are all wrong? What if it did not even happen the way you remembered it? What if the person’s motivations were different from what you thought they were?
I can imagine you may not want to explore these questions. You may even have feelings of anger at the mere suggestions these questions pose. Let me give you an example from my own life of what came up for me when I allowed myself to explore these questions.
For years I resented my father for not keeping his word with me. I can remember sitting and waiting for him for hours to take me somewhere only to find out he made other plans, usually with someone else, and that someone else was usually a woman.
From that experience I began to believe that all men (not just my father) lacked integrity, were unreliable and unfaithful. I subsequently found that to be true in my relationships with men (surprise, surprise.) I would recount this story over and over again. That story was my proof that men were unreliable.
When I dug deeper and began to explore this story from the perspective of what if I am wrong? I discovered that my dad might tell this story differently.
First of all, he would say that he likely never made a firm commitment to do what I asked. And that would be true. He often replied to my request by saying, “We’ll see.”
Secondly, my father always believed I could take care of myself. He thought I always demonstrated that I was capable, which is also true. I always had a contingency plan. If he did not come through, I had a back up plan ready to be executed.
So, my father’s story goes something like this, “My daughter made requests of me that I sometimes could not honor but she was OK with it because she always had other options.”
The reason he may think I was OK with his behavior is because I NEVER told him otherwise. My reasoning for not letting him know I was hurt or disappointed was that I did not want him to know he had the power to injury me.
So you see, it just like my Pop-Pop always told me, “There are three sides to every story: yours, mine and the truth.”
So I ask you, “What if you are wrong?”
Excerpt from my book, Journey to Purpose: Simple Guide to Discovering Your Life Purpose ©2007 T. Dorsey.
Surely all of us have been harmed or disappointed by another. The key is what you DO with those feelings of pain and disappointments. Do you hold on to the memory, believing by doing so you are insuring that the person responsible is held accountable? I have heard many spiritual teachers describe this type of behavior: “Taking poison and expecting someone else to get sick.”
Few things are more poisonous than holding on to past hurts. It impedes your progress on the journey. It as if you shackle your feet with cement blocks and then attempt to run. Clearly, there is a better method of taking the journey.
Iyanla Vanzant describes the Law of Forgiveness in her book, Acts of Faith, as: “Infusing the mind with natural healthy ideas that take away the darkness and bring in the light.”
When you bring in the light, you will find peace and happiness. When you hold on to hurts, you may certainly feel RIGHT and JUST, but you rarely feel peaceful or happy. I pose to you the question popularized by Dr. Phil, “Would you rather be right or happy?”
Still not convinced?
Consider these questions: What if you are wrong? What if the reasons why you think, the person acted in the way that you, are all wrong? What if it did not even happen the way you remembered it? What if the person’s motivations were different from what you thought they were?
I can imagine you may not want to explore these questions. You may even have feelings of anger at the mere suggestions these questions pose. Let me give you an example from my own life of what came up for me when I allowed myself to explore these questions.
For years I resented my father for not keeping his word with me. I can remember sitting and waiting for him for hours to take me somewhere only to find out he made other plans, usually with someone else, and that someone else was usually a woman.
From that experience I began to believe that all men (not just my father) lacked integrity, were unreliable and unfaithful. I subsequently found that to be true in my relationships with men (surprise, surprise.) I would recount this story over and over again. That story was my proof that men were unreliable.
When I dug deeper and began to explore this story from the perspective of what if I am wrong? I discovered that my dad might tell this story differently.
First of all, he would say that he likely never made a firm commitment to do what I asked. And that would be true. He often replied to my request by saying, “We’ll see.”
Secondly, my father always believed I could take care of myself. He thought I always demonstrated that I was capable, which is also true. I always had a contingency plan. If he did not come through, I had a back up plan ready to be executed.
So, my father’s story goes something like this, “My daughter made requests of me that I sometimes could not honor but she was OK with it because she always had other options.”
The reason he may think I was OK with his behavior is because I NEVER told him otherwise. My reasoning for not letting him know I was hurt or disappointed was that I did not want him to know he had the power to injury me.
So you see, it just like my Pop-Pop always told me, “There are three sides to every story: yours, mine and the truth.”
So I ask you, “What if you are wrong?”
Excerpt from my book, Journey to Purpose: Simple Guide to Discovering Your Life Purpose ©2007 T. Dorsey.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Parenting on the Journey
When your journey includes being a parent, you want to be the sign posts for your child's journey. You want to give warnings such as, "Danger up Ahead" and "Caution: Sharp Curves." You want to suggest better paths to take to get to the places of interests with greater ease. You want to provide Roadside Assistance service when your child gets stranded.
I am learning now that there comes a time when you have to allow your child to travel the journey alone. This realization came when I was repeatedly told by my child that she knows the way and has a plan. She clearly understands the directions I have given her. She has heard the warnings and has concluded that I am an alarmist. She is also convinced that the roads are significantly different now than they were when I may have traveled them.
Family, friends and professionals tell me it is time to step aside and allow her to follow the paths she chooses for herself. They tell me it is ok to be nearby in case she does decide to ask for my assistance but until then, I must put away my directions, signposts and travel tips. In the end, everyone is convinced that she will arrive at the places she desires.
I have to say; so far it has been a tough being on the sidelines. Feelings of hopelessness and fear sometimes overwhelm me. All I can do now is pray.
I am learning now that there comes a time when you have to allow your child to travel the journey alone. This realization came when I was repeatedly told by my child that she knows the way and has a plan. She clearly understands the directions I have given her. She has heard the warnings and has concluded that I am an alarmist. She is also convinced that the roads are significantly different now than they were when I may have traveled them.
Family, friends and professionals tell me it is time to step aside and allow her to follow the paths she chooses for herself. They tell me it is ok to be nearby in case she does decide to ask for my assistance but until then, I must put away my directions, signposts and travel tips. In the end, everyone is convinced that she will arrive at the places she desires.
I have to say; so far it has been a tough being on the sidelines. Feelings of hopelessness and fear sometimes overwhelm me. All I can do now is pray.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Hard Conversations
"The hardest conversations are the most important ones." India Arie wrote those words in the liner notes of her album, Testimony: Volume 2 Love and Politics. India's words often connect with me at a perfect intersection of time/space. I read those words a short time after having a very difficult conversation with the someone I love. India's words made me take a hard look at myself and how I show up in my life, especially how I choose to show up in relationships during difficult times. What I discovered during this self-reflection is outlined below.
Hard conversations make you want to run away because you just can't stand to be in the company of the other. In that instant, it is most important to stay.
You do not stay to continue a conflict but you stay maybe to stand up for yourself or perhaps for someone else.
You stay so maybe your fear does not win out.
Stay, in order that the one you love may understand that even when you do not like him, do not agree with him - you still love him.
Stay so that even when you do not feel heard; you can show him you do know how to listen.
Stay so that your past hurts no longer hold you hostage.
These hard conversations may make you feel like your head is going to explode. In that instant, it most important to find your breath.
Breathe so you may remember one of the Four Agreements: Don't Take Anything Personally.
Breathe so you may remember that your buttons are being pushed because you allow the wires to continue to be intact.
Breathe so you may remember that the other is always your mirror reflecting back where you need to grow.
Breathe so you may remember that Spirit resides in the breath. When Spirit is present anger, judgment, impatience dissipates.
The hard conversations are the most important conversations because they offer us an opportunity to remember who we really are. The measure of who you are can be found in these hard conversations. They can be the barometer of how big or small you are in these moments. So how big are YOU?
Hard conversations make you want to run away because you just can't stand to be in the company of the other. In that instant, it is most important to stay.
You do not stay to continue a conflict but you stay maybe to stand up for yourself or perhaps for someone else.
You stay so maybe your fear does not win out.
Stay, in order that the one you love may understand that even when you do not like him, do not agree with him - you still love him.
Stay so that even when you do not feel heard; you can show him you do know how to listen.
Stay so that your past hurts no longer hold you hostage.
These hard conversations may make you feel like your head is going to explode. In that instant, it most important to find your breath.
Breathe so you may remember one of the Four Agreements: Don't Take Anything Personally.
Breathe so you may remember that your buttons are being pushed because you allow the wires to continue to be intact.
Breathe so you may remember that the other is always your mirror reflecting back where you need to grow.
Breathe so you may remember that Spirit resides in the breath. When Spirit is present anger, judgment, impatience dissipates.
The hard conversations are the most important conversations because they offer us an opportunity to remember who we really are. The measure of who you are can be found in these hard conversations. They can be the barometer of how big or small you are in these moments. So how big are YOU?
Monday, January 28, 2008
Your Truth
"Say your truth - kindly, but fully and completely. Live your truth - gently, but totally and consistently. Change your truth easily and quickly when your experience brings you new clarity."
---- Neale Donald Walsch, Conversations with God
In my youth and now in years as a mature woman, it amazes me how many people are unwilling to speak their truth. What lies beneath this unwillingness is usually fear. Fear that you may hurt some one's feelings. Fear that people will not like you anymore. Fear that others may retaliate.
As a young person I had no difficulty speaking my truth. My challenge was saying my truth kindly. It felt right to me to tell my truth even if it meant it would injure another. With maturity, I learned to use my truth less as a sword and more as a shield. The truth shielded me from others because when I found myself in a situation that could cause me harm or harm to another, I easily and quickly spoke that truth. It takes courage to tell the truth whether in minor or major situations.
Minor Situations
Standing in line at the Starbuck's, there were only two people in front of me waiting to be served by the one attendant behind the counter. The man in the front of the line must have had a large order because the attendant was working busily for several minutes. Soon, another employee of Starbuck's came to the far end of the counter and struck up a conversation with the attendant behind the counter.
Clearly this conversation was causing the attendant to work slower and several more minutes went by. I could see on the faces of the two people in front of me that they noticed this delay, as well, but neither said a word. The two gave each other knowing glances but neither said anything to the attendant.
Past experience with similar situations told me that the two in front of me would more likely start complaining to each other rather than to say anything to the attendant. As kindly as I could and after taking a few deep breaths, I asked the two employees if they could please hold off their conversation until after we have been serviced. Obviously surprised by what I requested, they both apologized and ended their discussion. The line moved quickly thereafter.
How many times have you found yourself in a similar situation? Did you speak your truth? Did you instead express your frustration with sighs, gasps or snide comments to others? If you did speak up, were you kind? If you did not speak up at all, why not? What were you afraid of?
Major Situations
Ending a relationship is a major situation in which many people are unwilling to speak their truth. The quote from Conversations with God that I used in the opening is very powerful. The most powerful part, in my opinion, is:
In relationships, some times your truth changes. For instance, you may have once wanted to be in a committed, monogamous relationship but your truth changed one day and you now may want the experience of being single. Without question, this truth is difficult to express to another. However, doesn't speaking your truth give more honor to the love you may have shared with your partner?
How many times have you been in a relationship and your mate behavior begins to change and you are never told why? Perhaps the relationship ended because of this change in behavior?
A friend recently spoke to me about the importance of bringing honorable closure in a relationship. My friend talked about not letting the relationship simply dissipate like water trickling out of a bucket with a small hole in it. Instead, it is important to acknowledge aloud to each other that it is time to end the relationship. An honorable closure enables you to both acknowledge the importance of the experience you had together and then be able to move on with integrity.
How you speak and live your truth is a testimony to who you are on this journey. Would not the journey be more enjoyable if we each had the courage, honor and integrity to have our spoken truth in alignment with the truth we live?
---- Neale Donald Walsch, Conversations with God
In my youth and now in years as a mature woman, it amazes me how many people are unwilling to speak their truth. What lies beneath this unwillingness is usually fear. Fear that you may hurt some one's feelings. Fear that people will not like you anymore. Fear that others may retaliate.
As a young person I had no difficulty speaking my truth. My challenge was saying my truth kindly. It felt right to me to tell my truth even if it meant it would injure another. With maturity, I learned to use my truth less as a sword and more as a shield. The truth shielded me from others because when I found myself in a situation that could cause me harm or harm to another, I easily and quickly spoke that truth. It takes courage to tell the truth whether in minor or major situations.
Minor Situations
Standing in line at the Starbuck's, there were only two people in front of me waiting to be served by the one attendant behind the counter. The man in the front of the line must have had a large order because the attendant was working busily for several minutes. Soon, another employee of Starbuck's came to the far end of the counter and struck up a conversation with the attendant behind the counter.
Clearly this conversation was causing the attendant to work slower and several more minutes went by. I could see on the faces of the two people in front of me that they noticed this delay, as well, but neither said a word. The two gave each other knowing glances but neither said anything to the attendant.
Past experience with similar situations told me that the two in front of me would more likely start complaining to each other rather than to say anything to the attendant. As kindly as I could and after taking a few deep breaths, I asked the two employees if they could please hold off their conversation until after we have been serviced. Obviously surprised by what I requested, they both apologized and ended their discussion. The line moved quickly thereafter.
How many times have you found yourself in a similar situation? Did you speak your truth? Did you instead express your frustration with sighs, gasps or snide comments to others? If you did speak up, were you kind? If you did not speak up at all, why not? What were you afraid of?
Major Situations
Ending a relationship is a major situation in which many people are unwilling to speak their truth. The quote from Conversations with God that I used in the opening is very powerful. The most powerful part, in my opinion, is:
. . . change your truth easily and quickly when your experience brings you new clarity.
In relationships, some times your truth changes. For instance, you may have once wanted to be in a committed, monogamous relationship but your truth changed one day and you now may want the experience of being single. Without question, this truth is difficult to express to another. However, doesn't speaking your truth give more honor to the love you may have shared with your partner?
How many times have you been in a relationship and your mate behavior begins to change and you are never told why? Perhaps the relationship ended because of this change in behavior?
A friend recently spoke to me about the importance of bringing honorable closure in a relationship. My friend talked about not letting the relationship simply dissipate like water trickling out of a bucket with a small hole in it. Instead, it is important to acknowledge aloud to each other that it is time to end the relationship. An honorable closure enables you to both acknowledge the importance of the experience you had together and then be able to move on with integrity.
How you speak and live your truth is a testimony to who you are on this journey. Would not the journey be more enjoyable if we each had the courage, honor and integrity to have our spoken truth in alignment with the truth we live?
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Facing Fears
What value is there in facing your fears? What is there to gain in reliving painful experiences? Does it change anything to acknowledge you have been hurt?
The point of facing your fears is that it allows you to eventually move through it. But before you move through it, you have to acknowledge the pain. You have to allow yourself to feel what you are feeling. You have to allow yourself to feel all the emotions that come up for you as you face your fears. No matter what those feelings may be. Usually there are a myriad of emotions to deal with when you confront your fears, especially if you have avoided dealing with them for years. You may have feelings of anger, resentment, frustration, helplessness, vulnerability and rage. It may be helpful to remember this phrase,
So how do you begin to face your fears? You do it by to telling your story. Write it out. Chronicle exactly what happened. At first you may think you are unable to recall all the details, especially if it happened a long time ago. However, as you write, you may recall memories long forgotten. It is also important to describe how you feel or felt about what happened. Describe in detail what emotions come up for you. Once you allow yourself to feel what you are feeling, you can get to the other side.
The story I had to tell to face my fears was about my dad. After he passed away I came to realize that I still struggled with facets of our relationship. Initially, I really did not see the point in relieving all the ways my dad disappointed me. He was dead now. What was the point? What could be the benefit in reliving those painful memories? Despite these objections, I began to write my story.
I recounted the countless times my dad did not show through, as promised. It was a hard story to tell even to myself. At times I wept uncontrollably. At other times my rage was so intense it was palatable. It was incredible to me how many different emotions I felt and how real they all were, as if the events I was retelling had just happened moments ago instead of over a decade ago.
What was the point in that painful exercise? I did indeed move through those feelings and came out on the other side.
On that other side I had some new insights. One insight I discovered was how stuffing those feelings about my dad, over time, impacted my personality, my choices and my relationships. By retelling that story I also gained an entirely new perspective on that painful experience. Eventually, after allowing myself to feel all those emotions I had been stuffing for so many years, I began to feel lighter like a weight had been lifted.
What happened next was really unexpected. I found that I had transformed into a higher version of myself, a more authentic version of who I really am. This new insight even made me feel grateful for that painful experience because I liked who I grew to be because of it.
Facing your fears enables you to rid yourself of buried emotions. By coming to face-to-face with what you are afraid of, you are able to free yourself. You also offer yourself an opportunity to grow from the experience. In the end, you may discover you like YOU not in spite of what happened to you but because of what happened to you.
The point of facing your fears is that it allows you to eventually move through it. But before you move through it, you have to acknowledge the pain. You have to allow yourself to feel what you are feeling. You have to allow yourself to feel all the emotions that come up for you as you face your fears. No matter what those feelings may be. Usually there are a myriad of emotions to deal with when you confront your fears, especially if you have avoided dealing with them for years. You may have feelings of anger, resentment, frustration, helplessness, vulnerability and rage. It may be helpful to remember this phrase,
“ If it is coming up, then it is on its way out.”
So how do you begin to face your fears? You do it by to telling your story. Write it out. Chronicle exactly what happened. At first you may think you are unable to recall all the details, especially if it happened a long time ago. However, as you write, you may recall memories long forgotten. It is also important to describe how you feel or felt about what happened. Describe in detail what emotions come up for you. Once you allow yourself to feel what you are feeling, you can get to the other side.
The story I had to tell to face my fears was about my dad. After he passed away I came to realize that I still struggled with facets of our relationship. Initially, I really did not see the point in relieving all the ways my dad disappointed me. He was dead now. What was the point? What could be the benefit in reliving those painful memories? Despite these objections, I began to write my story.
I recounted the countless times my dad did not show through, as promised. It was a hard story to tell even to myself. At times I wept uncontrollably. At other times my rage was so intense it was palatable. It was incredible to me how many different emotions I felt and how real they all were, as if the events I was retelling had just happened moments ago instead of over a decade ago.
What was the point in that painful exercise? I did indeed move through those feelings and came out on the other side.
On that other side I had some new insights. One insight I discovered was how stuffing those feelings about my dad, over time, impacted my personality, my choices and my relationships. By retelling that story I also gained an entirely new perspective on that painful experience. Eventually, after allowing myself to feel all those emotions I had been stuffing for so many years, I began to feel lighter like a weight had been lifted.
What happened next was really unexpected. I found that I had transformed into a higher version of myself, a more authentic version of who I really am. This new insight even made me feel grateful for that painful experience because I liked who I grew to be because of it.
Facing your fears enables you to rid yourself of buried emotions. By coming to face-to-face with what you are afraid of, you are able to free yourself. You also offer yourself an opportunity to grow from the experience. In the end, you may discover you like YOU not in spite of what happened to you but because of what happened to you.
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