I Am Not What Happened To Me.

Sometimes the past should be abandoned, yes. Life is a journey, and you can’t carry everything with you. Only the usable baggage.” 

~Ha Jin

You’ve probably heard of the fear of missing out but what about the fear of letting go?

Like most everyone you know, I've got some pretty nasty and painful history. Every now and then, some of the residual effects come to my surface, and I have to deal with them directly.  They cause me to act defensively, and usually toward those who I love and who know me the best. As I have struggled with my desire to cling to bad memories and self-defeating behaviors, it has dawned on me that I sometimes I am afraid to let go because defensiveness is a part of my identity.

The problem wasn’t that I had baggage. Everyone has baggage. It becomes a problem when it starts to define you.

But I am not what happened to me. Still, I didn’t know who I would be without some of my past pains. At that point, it hit me: I had to dig deep, discover the person I wanted to be, and then act on it. I had to choose who I wanted to become.

We might be holding on to the past because it seems too important to jettison.

What are some things from your past that weigh you down? Can you take time this week to write them out? Grab a notebook or an iPad and just let the words flow. Don't judge yourself or overthink it. The ones that come harder are most likely the ones you are worried about having to let go of.

There are infinite possibilities for each of us, baggage notwithstanding. 

Everyone has pain. It’s part of what makes us who we are. What defines us, however, is how we handle it.

We all wear the things we’ve survived with some victory, but the real victory is in the choice to transcend them. 

Cheers.

Can You Be Too Hospitable and Supportive?

“We cripple people who are capable of walking because we choose to carry them.”

 ~Christie Williams

Years ago, I had a dear friend who needed a lot of support for various reasons. 

She was working hard to find her way out of a dark period. She had suffered traumas and tragedies and a lot of things I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Her life really did resemble a roller coaster ride. It was heartbreaking to watch her struggle, exciting when things would be on the upswing, and upsetting again when things would spiral downhill.

I am someone who knows and appreciates how important it is to have supportive people around you, offering love and kindness, especially during times of struggle. The support was mostly phone calls, but often it meant dropping what I was doing and driving to meet her to make sure she was okay. There were talks, tears, and through that, hard truths were often revealed.

It wasn’t all dreary. There were sunny times too. Lot’s of French Fries and Ice Cream eaten.

What I got in return wasn’t the same type of support. This person was not the person I would turn to in a crisis, however minor or major. She just couldn’t handle it. But in turn, this friend showed me gratitude and genuine love.

I never thought much about the dynamics of the relationship until I was talking with a good friend who had a tendency always to be the one who made everyone else feel better. Even at her own expense. As she shared how she was afraid of allowing a potential one-way relationship to take off, a found myself saying, “NO! Stop. You don’t always have to be the one who is supportive.”

Do we have an obligation to do our best to the people we care about? Well, yes, to an extent.

Because the reality is, we can be too supportive, and in turn, keeping a person from discovering an important truth of some kind. The truth that they are a good friend, but not an anchor friend. The truth that they are out of control in their lives and you can’t guide them forever. The truth that they are controlling your life instead of controlling theirs.

Because the thing was this: in being so busy with always checking in on them, you forget to check in with yourself.

It may cause a crack in the relationship. It might lead to a massive fault line disruption.

If we are not respecting our time, feelings, and energy, no one else will either.

Cheers.

Open Wound or Ugly Scar: The Choice is Yours.

"The real healing begins when you decide to chose an ugly scar over an open wound."

#joyous perspective

I'm what most people would call 'accident prone'.

I have a tendency to have some cut or bruise on my body at any given moment in time. When I was a kid, I was the one who always had a skinned knee or elbow. I remember my mom threatening to buy me knee and elbow pads to wear to school. Funny, I got so accustomed to having these wounds that they became a focal point for me and turned into a nasty habit. I would sit in class or front of the television and pick at my scabbing wound. Eventually, you guessed it, it would begin to bleed out again, and I'd need a new bandaid. I was finally broken of the habit when I started noticing boys. I didn't want them to see this nasty evidence of my clumsiness.

But unfortunately, the nasty wounds would become an ugly scar sometimes.

My body still carried on it scars from severe falls or accidents from under the age of 10. I don't think they'll ever go away. And you know what? I'm okay with that because each one tells a story. A story that ends in a wound, sometimes even antibiotics, but it's closed up now and just a scar.

We've also got wounds that form unseen in our emotional and mental space, don't we?

Some of them were wielded upon us by people or life events we could not avoid. Others were completely self-induced and perpetuated. Once they are there, we can ignore them, even pick at them once scab forms and induce bleeding all over again. They can become infected, and the once non-physical wound can impact more than our psyche. It will spread to our body and make us ill. Just like teenager Joy, we will have to make the decision that this gaping wound is less desirable than even the ugliest scar. But no one can make us stop picking at it, especially if it obsesses us.

Only we can decide to choose to heal.

That living with a scar is better than any open wound.

Maybe it's time?

Cheers.

Perspective. Yes, it's that big of a deal.

"A Rose has thorns, or thorns have roses. You decide."

~#Joyousperspective

"I had to take you off my Social Media because you were just too optimistic."

I heard this from a really dear friend recently. I totally get their meaning. I often write something in a daily thought or blog and think, "Damn, that's syrupy." I'm sure people read some of what I write and roll their eyes. "Happy, happy joy joy..." Blech.  It's like I replied to my friend, "Yeah, most of the time I wake up feeling pretty good. But usually, about mid-day, I get really crabby. That's when I go back and read what I wrote in the morning. It helps me with my perspective.

If there's one thing that colors our lives and our responses, it's got to be perspective.

Perspective isn't just what you see, it's HOW you chose to see it. Yes, how you chose, not how it is. It is not just seeing the colors of the rainbow, but actually recognizing that you have to have a storm to get a rainbow. And just in case you find yourself wondering, the only reason I can write about 'joy' or a 'joyous perspective' is that I know what it means not to have it. I understand getting up filled with dread about the day ahead. I know what it is like to see the ugliness of the world and wonder how I will encourage those around me to never give up.

Yes,  it is one of the reasons I keep writing, even when I want to quit.

Because even if not one other person reads what I wrote, I will read it. I will have to reach in deep and convince myself that it is not just a bunch of malarky. I remind myself to open my eyes. And my mind. And my heart. 

And actually, see. 

And have a little faith.

Cheers.