share-y scary
Stumbled upon this gem, Josh Gondelman’s post — (read his quote)
and “this can’t be right.” Right?
Eulghhh.
We can all appreciate these sentiments. (If you can’t, this may not be the blog for you. *wink)
I am certainly no stranger to the undeniable—almost desperate at times—wish to be seen coupled with terror, anticipating judgement and condemnation. Past mis-connections replay horrific memories, sending my gut into a revolt. (Drama much? #youknowhowitis)
What a roller-coaster.
Hi—yes, um, I’d like to get off this merry-go-round. Stat. *hurls
Unlike the rides at a theme park, we unfortunately cannot opt-out of this Human Life Experience (HLX). But—and—Life is, therefore we are, always and forever cycling through chaos. We have to.
Moment by moment, new data comes in and we have the opportunity to choose what to do with it, how to respond. That is, if we’ll have it.
With all the self-awareness present in today’s satur-data’d landscape, it’s a wonder we (okay, I’ll speak for myself—I) haven’t imploded. (Or have I?)
The anxiety! Over-thinking and ruminating winds up the mind so tightly that if we don’t intentionally unwind, we stay wound. And then we are left wounded.
wooffffff!
So how do we get help? How do we help ourselves? How to untangle and simplify this? Well, I’ll share what’s working for me: this two-step, triple-ball-change formula (a special one for you, my darling dancing folk).
Recognize
Simplify
(and a 1, 2, 3!) Allow—Accept—Embrace
Step 1:
Recognize and admit you are facing a problem–and sure, this can feel bad enough on its own. Check.
Double-check, when taking into account the multiple levels of self-awareness about the aforementioned problem of ruminating. First of all, must it be labeled a “problem?” Do you find within yourself resistance to this word, this experience? Notice that.
“You have the power to choose: continue to gnaw, or shift into a meditative pondering of awe.”
Interestingly, the dictionary definition of “ruminate” contains both 1. “to chew again, over and over,” and 2. “to meditate on; to ponder.” This is a good time to remind yourself (hi-hello me, are you listening?) that you have the power to choose: continue to gnaw, or shift into a meditative pondering of awe.
Step 2:
Simplify. Ask yourself, “what do I need?” Gene Keys author Richard Rudd offers guidance in three acts: allow, accept, embrace.
Consider these acts in both the noun and verb functions. Allow that this discomfort exists. Show up and allow yourself to be seen—both by yourself and others. Stumble through. Take a step. Give yourself an allowance.
Accept your mis-takes, any tripped-over steps, and practice offering your own heart and mind some grace. Rather than replaying situations for the sake of building up self-condemnation, what might be there when you return with curiosity? How can you invite your creativity to play with new potential responses and outcomes? No more jouska-jousting. Explore your own inner landscape of beliefs, expectations, and motivations to bring illumination to a rumination, to welcome acceptance.
And finally, embrace. This is where we come back together.
Forgiveness means giving ourselves permission for the “ness”—yes, it looks and sounds and feels like “mess”—being in whatever current state we find ourselves in. It does mean taking responsibility for the consequences of our deeds, whether they are painful or pleasant. Unwind to un-wound; from an embrace, we release into the openness of healing grace.
Emerging from the understanding that our identity is greater than the sum of its parts, forgiveness bridges us to this realm beyond the interactions and events as permanent, fixed aspects. It can be helpful to remember that identity contains our uncoordinated instinctual desires, according to Freud (id-entity, anyone?).
For this chaos, there is no cure. But—and—grace is a choice, a process, a verb by which we refine our own raw, chaotic energy. Our identities are dynamic and permeating.
“Forgiveness means giving ourselves permission for the “ness”–yes, it sounds like “mess”–being in whatever current state we find ourselves in.”
Back to JG’s quote, and the very real, reeling vulnerability-hangover.
In sharing our feelings and experiences, we bid for affirmation and connection. Sometimes it’s as simple as this basic need to be seen, through another’s eyes, reflecting back the reassurance that we’re not alone. Even this quote cries out, “It’s not just me, is it? I’m not alone in this, am I?” Of course, we already know the answer.
What we give, we get. And so, on and on, cycling through life.
And as far as identity goes, who we are goes beyond.
So dance with id. (Yes, pun intended.)
— yours truly,
