My Burden. My Gift.

Today will be a bit different.

There are stories I carry that not only haunt my nightmares, they pepper my days with a brokenness and hurt I like to convince myself no one else will ever understand.  But I don't recognize them as stories.  I carry them like a well worn satchel, always at my side, pulling, almost clawing with it's heavy burden and relentless malice. 

Maybe I am a loser... Fat... Dumb... Hopeless...  Maybe I'll always be lonely...  Afraid... Shy...  A failure.  It's almost as if I'm not even capable of a positive thought.  One which will finally lead me to the peace I endlessly seek.  The peace which seems to elude me.  Always.  

"Why do these things happen to me," I ask?  Constantly and chaotically.  Why does this cancer of my being eat at me and seem to endlessly remind me how inadequate I am?

I don't want to listen anymore.  "You're wrong," I shout internally and it echos as if bouncing off the walls of an empty cistern long forgotten and dry for millennia.  I'm relentless with myself.  The negativity I have toward my character, my body, and my behavior doesn't give me a moments rest from the hatred constantly directed inward. 

Suddenly, for just a moment, I breathe.  I feel the air fill up my lungs, expand my diaphragm, and I imagine the breath filling my body with life.  LIFE.  My life.  One gifted to me by a noble and infinite creator who knows much better than I what He's doing.  I remember that I'm here for a reason.  I'm not my faults or falls.  I'm not my resentment or my pain.  I'm not even my body.  I am me.  The only me in existence.   I'm a finite being with a unique set of skills, talents, gifts, and blessings.  Me.

I've spent so many years behinds a curtain of lies, I haven't given myself the chance to see who I am beyond the curtain.  It's frightening on the other side.  I am scared to look beyond the tapestry of my stories and explore who I can be beyond the darkness of my self inflicted prison.

My heart is so much bigger than my story.  As it floats through this simple life set before me, I hope to let my heart swell with truth rather than lies.  To spend more time dwelling on the beauty of all that makes up my being rather than the sorrows of regret and self pity. What's happened has happened and I can't change it.  But I can grow from it.

I've hidden my heart in shadows for way too long.  There's an ease with which I lean toward self assault.  In sharing my scars and using them to move myself forward, I am bold.  I feel emboldened.  I recognize the gifts I've received from the time my heart spent adrift and I use them to make me stronger.

Today, I am me. I am enough. 

Powerful Choices

Often in my life I have told myself that I do things because I don't have a choice.  It could be something at work and I need to do this...  If I speak about such-n-such it could hurt people...  Both things I do and those I keep secret seem to happen whether or not I like it.  I just have to do things this way.

It can feel like a very constricted place.  Stuck.  Victim.  Trapped.  These are the relationships we feel like we can't get out of.  Those parts of ourselves we're afraid to share.  The bosses we allow to treat us poorly.  Places like these can feel very lonely.  We often think we're the only one with these troubles and that no one could possibly understand.  Holding secrets can be even worse because sharing them may be an unsafe place where I can get very hurt.

So I feel legitimately trapped and weak as I'm victimized by my situations and surroundings.  Bottom line...  If I tell my boss off or even just say no, I may lose my job.  If I share with my spouse that I'm struggling with my sense of worth, or something like an addiction, I may hurt them and those around me.  As long as I tell myself I don't have any choices I'm a goner.  A victim of my circumstances.  I'm shrunk and put away in a box where I feel small, unimportant and ready to be taken advantage of by those around me.

Choices.  Let me say it again because it's a powerful word which can transform all of this.  CHOICES.  Even in places where I feel in my bones that I'm trapped,  I have choices.

For me, it's in those places, where it's most important for me to recognize I have them.  Let me explain with a few examples...  I once had a job where my boss micromanaged everything and told me once that she makes it her business to remind people of their place.  Ultimately to remind the workers she is boss and they have to do what she tells them to.  I thought for quite some time about leaving this job but stayed because with all her whining and demands, I never did much more work.  I wanted my salary and to support my family. I made a choice to stand my ground as an employee and also to grin and bear it to be there for my family and support them.  I reframed my situation from victimhood to choice.  I chose to endure in order to support my family.

Recently I had an opportunity to see my father.  At 63 not much has changed.  He still makes nasty comments about my life choices.  Every third word is profane and he has very unkind words for most people he encounters.  After about 10 hours I was ready to leave (my visit was meant to be two days) and then I remembered...  I visited him for him AND for me.  I found joy in serving him juice, bringing him his walker, and taking out his trash.  I was doing this for me as much as for him.  With that recognition, I felt empowered and looked for those opportunities more for the duration of our visit.  I left in a good place having accomplished what I'd come for.

Reframe #3.  I have a friend I speak to often with a wife who isn't well.  She's caused him a lot of heartache and trouble through the years.  They have 7 beautiful children and he's a good father to them.  He feels stuck in his marriage because of his love for his children (and his wife) and her inability to give them what they need.   Or what he needs for that matter.  In the many hours we've spoken about this he finally recognized that despite all that exists around him he does have a choice.  He can get divorced and lose his children to an unhealthy wife.  He can chose his happiness over theirs (as he put it).  This is a choice.  Yes, it's a choice he doesn't want to make, but recognizing it is a choice at all pulled him out of self pity and at least part of the "woe is me" dissipated.  His choice to stay with his family is a strong decision from a place of control.  Not a place of victimhood.  The choice now empowers, rather than shrinks him.

As men we have choices.  They may not be ones we want to make or ones we would carry out, but we have them.  When I come out of a place where I think I'm being forced to do something and recognize I'm doing it by choice, the reframe empowers me.  Through the years I've tried to limit my use of the phrase "have to."  I don't have to pick up my kids from school.  I don't have to take out the garbage.  I want to.  I want to because I take my responsibilities seriously and being in integrity with my values, responsibilities, and needs is my priority.  With a recognition of my choices I feel empowered.  Just because I sometimes wish I could choose one direction and ultimately go the other doesn't mean I'm being untrue to myself.  I choose and with that realization I feel the light of greater peace as I navigate through life.

Slaves to our Labels

It's those times when it seems like things just aren't moving that get me thinking, am I really changing?  Am I any better than I used to be?  Healing?  Growing?  Am I really any different than I was yesterday? Last month?  Five years ago?  

It occurred to me how difficult it can be to recognize change.  Ever had someone you haven't seen for awhile comment on how different you look or how much weight you've lost while those around you go without noticing?  Well you are the ultimate insider.  It's often the most difficult for us to notice.  Even when the change is obvious, it's all too easy to sweep it under the rug and ignore it. 

We take on titles and labels which can be very hard to remove.  No one gave us these necessarily, but we took them on and we sit with them.  When I believe I'm a smoker, large amount of time can pass without a cigarette, but though theoretically the chemical addition is gone, the draw may still be there.  I'm not sure this applies to everything but I think the titles can perpetuate behavior as well. It's because I'm a "smoker" that I need to have a cigarette right now.  It's because I'm a "compulsive over-eater" that I'm going to finish this cake.  I'm not in any way taking away from the struggle of addiction.  I believe it's real and I can sympathize with anyone going through it.  However it think sometimes it's difficult to notice the change in us because we're so attached to the label and the way of being. The behavior. 

It's so very difficult to change our feelings, understandings and impressions of ourselves.  We've sat with them for so long that it seems almost  blasphemous to remove them. I've always been fat...ugly... stupid... weak...  angry...  mean...  the clown... a problem child...  a sex addict... a criminal...  The list can go on and on.  Sometimes I can tell myself over and over again how fixed I am.  How I'm a different person who is healed and I've moved on.  I can tell myself I'm good, special, unique, and...  And nothing.  Still nothing. The label and the behavior won't let go. 

Some say the answer is in setting aside the label.  Some call it surrender.  Others call it letting go. If it were as easy as saying the words, everyone and their grandmother would be doing it. Real surrender is in doing the work to realize things aren't as I thought they were.  This is (or was) my behavior and this is me.  So it's not so much the setting aside the title but in accepting the new reality.  Often this takes a major smack in the face to recognize the new reality as... reality.

Jews across the world just finished celebrating Passover which is a remembrance and celebration of their exodus from Egypt.    I saw an interesting question.  After Charlton Heston (ok, fine, Moses) led the  Hebrews though 10 plagues, the desert, and into the Red Sea, why did G-d need to kill the Egyptians?  He'd just rained plagues down on Egypt and miraculously led them through a dry and solid sea bottom.  The answer is had He left the Egyptians alive the Hebrews would have continued to look upon themselves only as freed-slaves.  It took the wiping out of a nation for this new nation to look upon themselves as free men.  It wasn't until their former task-masters washed up on the shore that the point was driven home and the nation of Israel felt free.  It took a huge action to change their self-image.

Usually it's because we forget how great we are that we fall/fail.  We see ourselves as slaves.  Slaves to the label and whatever activity lies behind it.  The devil on our shoulder tells us, "you're an addict so it won't matter if you do this."  Or "you're fat and can't manage to lose weight anyway..."  If we knew who we were and accepted our true potential very possibly these falls would happen much less often.  We wouldn't allow the king inside us to act like a peasant.  We'd recognize these actions as beneath us.  

We can't split the Red Sea or any sea for that matter and we don't experience open miracles daily.  But we can create our own reality. Occasionally it happens in an instant but more often it takes time.  Don't compare yourself along your way (probably another whole blog post right there).   We can.  I'm worth it.  You're worth it.  

The BIG GAME I always lose

As men we're constantly comparing trying to figure out who is really the alpha male.  We're comparing the size of our muscles, who has the deepest voice, who can run the fastest, make the most money and a slew of other things I don't care to mention.

This week I learned about a new game.  A new way to compare.  I thought it was silly at first and as I thought about it more I realized sometimes I probably play too.  The problem is, as soon as I step up to the plate, I automatically lose.  I'm talking about the competition of who can be the most guarded and closed.

I think many of us are taught as men to "man up."  Keep a stiff upper lip.  Get the job done and don't whine about it.  So we grow up thinking, if we show weakness or let our flaws be known we will be rejected or the other guy will have the upper hand.  He'll be the alpha male.

This leaves me believing I need to hide the parts of myself which are less than perfect.  Every man is an island and meant to fend for himself without the influence or help of others.  As long as I don't let on I have any needs or wants from you, you'll accept me and I'll be on top.

So here we are, wanting friendship and connection and building strong walls and barriers to keep out hearts safe.  To make sure I don't really let the other guy in.  I may win the game but I lose everything I'm really after.  I'm building walls to keep people out when more than anything I really need to let people in.

Problem is, men are naturally tribal.  We thrive in groups and need one another to survive and be the best men we can be.  When we hide parts of ourselves we suffer emotionally and relationships can't thrive.  This doesn't mean we need to regurgitate out feelings and emotions constantly and to everyone, but bottom line is most of us are flawed and have the capacity to accepts others who are as well.  Often, knowing other people and their flaws helps me to accept myself with my own.  Additionally, the guy who reaches out and has the bravery to expose himself is generally not only accepted for who he is and what he's done, but respected for it as well.  He was the brave one and set the tone from breaking free from the battle to be the alpha male.  The game where all who play lose.

There are those men who won't get this.  Those who think vulnerability and expression are weakness and for the meek.  Seems to me, those men aren't ready, for whatever reason to start taking down the walls.  There's a part of them they're afraid to expose.  Bottom line is, we've probably all got them.  I read recently that most of us expose up to 90% of our truth at most even to those we're most intimately close with.  Doesn't sound like a bad number to me.  Maybe I'll be able to speak to that if I ever get there.

For now, having heard about the "game" and realizing I've fallen prey to it probably time and time again myself, I want to put down my cards.  It won't make me the alpha male I'm trying to prove I am.  In a game where when I win I'm closed, guarded, lonely, and sad, I choose to lose. 

Break free.  Be you.