Searching vs. Seeking

Today, my sister in law mentioned my “energy has been different.” Although, I wasn’t aware of a shift, it was apparent enough to her that she felt prompted to check on me. And that, of course, led me to question my behavior, demeanor, attitude and energy.

I try to be very aware of how I treat people, act, behave, and express myself in all interactions. I try to be kind, genuine, and seek to understand others rather than just responding or sharing information about myself. I try not only to make people feel that I’m interested, but also to genuinely BE* interested.

Generally, I’m about as transparent as a freshly cleaned window, and if someone perceives that I’m upset, off, distracted, it is usually because I am. Only once have I ever been “accused” of being stand-offish when I really had no idea that I was being stand-offish. And that caught me so off-guard that I’ve monitored the space I take up even more vigilantly since.

So when she said this–mind you, my sister-in-law is a straight shooter who would not ask this if she didn’t genuinely sense something was amiss–it knocked me a little off-kilter.

Here’s what I figured out.

My energy is different. I don’t give it away anymore to people, places, things, or thoughts that don’t inspire me. That doesn’t mean I don’t care … I just don’t hop on board the feelings express every time. Also, the more time I spend meditating, writing, doing yoga and just being, the less I engage with so many of the silly things that used to work me up.

Meditation teachers advise that when a thought crosses your mind during meditation, simply acknowledge it and then let it go. This simple revelation has rocked my world. For 43 years, I never had the space between an action and reaction that many people have. That space that allows you to process things before (over)reacting. Many of you have that space. Brad does. He has a big space. Sometimes, he doesn’t react at all.

Meditation has given me that space. I’m still learning and practicing using the space, but I am so grateful every time I am able to observe, acknowledge and not lose my shit.

I read an article that clarified my energy shift beautifully. I have transitioned from a searcher to a seeker.

“A searcher needs … to be supported to help find their goals. They need to find the thing that will provide motivation and propel them forward. This will require a more in-depth examination of values and wants, learning what makes the person tick and what gives his life meaning. 

A seeker has already set the path for herself. She may need help motivating to follow the course, to reach the goals, to keep envisioning and acting upon her own agency and pathways, but there is something already in her mind that she wants to achieve. ” 

So thank you, my darling little sister, for helping me to see this.

Do you have that space? How did you get it or was it always there? Or, if you’re like me, did you even know there was a space?

*I know that split infinitive irks me too, but “to be” feels so Shakespeare-y. 

Too Much of a Good Thing is Still Too Much

Since I’m very vulnerable and transparent here, I am going to confess something: I can be a know-it-all. Not the kind who argues about facts and ideas and theories and politics. Not even the kind who thinks she is always right–at least not in traditional ways. No, I would describe myself as a person who aspires to grow and change and be my best self while helping inspire others to do the same. Whether they want to or not.

Sometimes, that is helpful. Lots of my friends find my “help” inspiring and encouraging–which, for the record is always my goal. But there are also other people who don’t want to read the books I suggest or the blogs I write or the podcasts I listen to. Some people aren’t interested in my brand of self-improvement. And that is perfectly fine. Just because we don’t work the same way doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.

However, there are others who just really aren’t my people. Also, fine.

Brad told me one time that I can be “too much Mary” for some. I get that. I’ve never tried to be a self-improvement bully, but when something I read or watch or hear impacts me significantly, I want to share it so that others can have similar experiences. Alas, I know now that not everyone can or will or wants all these A-ha moments. So, I’ve been trying to keep my book, blog, and podcast recommendations to a minimum. Except here. This place is fair game for all my blathering.

For a long time, I subscribed to the philosophy of, “Leave the 99 and go after the 1.” That might work in ministry, but in real life, at least in my real life, it’s non-productive, nonsensical and painful. It’s taken me a long, lonnnnggggg, LOOOOOONNNGG time to figure it out, but I’m getting it. I am making a habit of loving, encouraging, and inspiring the people who love me back (the 99) and letting the others go. Not being everyone’s cup of tea doesn’t make me a bad person. People disliking me and trying to convince others that I’m a bad person doesn’t make me a bad person either. It’s tough stuff for a recovering approval junkie to take though.

So, if you’re reading this, I’m making a big assumption that you are one of my people or you care what I have to say or maybe the google brought you here via a keyword search for kookaloo, and I’m going to be really frank with you. I want everyone to be happy. Enormously, outrageously, love-cup-overflowing-ly happy. And sometimes, I feel like I see shortcuts to get there and I want to show them to people. “Look right here, if you just do this…” Sometimes, I feel like the blog or sermon that changed my life might change yours too. And sometimes I’m even right. People tell me all the time that my words or someone else’s words that I shared really DID impact them. I mean The Four Agreements? Seriously?

Still, other people wish I would shut up and stop being so happy and sharing pictures of my annoyingly beautiful kids and sickeningly hot husband who still loves me after 25 years and our obnoxious tattoos eye-roll. They’re not my people. I don’t care what they think. I don’t care if they like me, and I give up trying to win them over. Today’s Ash Wednesday, right? Good. I’m giving it up for Lent.

So, this is self-indulgent, I know. Sometimes I have to get this drivel out of my head to allow me to think clearly. However, I also know that at least one of you reading this relates. Among you are spiritual bullies, and kind-natured know-it-alls and do-gooders who see people not living up to their potential that could benefit from ______. Me too, friends. I’m trying to do better. I’m trying to listen more and advise less. I’m reading more body language (Stuff You Should Know 1-7, ONLY if you’re interested) and recommending fewer books. I’m seeking more to understand and less to be understood.

But…I’m a work in progress. So here’s a link to my kid’s blog. Cause she’s fabulosity personified. Peace out.

Once Upon a Time…

You know when you hear or read something that rattles neurons around in your brain and they reconfigure in a new and improved way? Like Oprah’s “AHA moments.” In my curiosity and sometimes pathological pursuit of self-improvement, I stumbled into one of these revelations.

Sometimes, I hear or read the same idea repeatedly without really internalizing it. Almost every lesson in my life could be broken down piece by piece to find one of The Four Agreements as its cornerstone; still, I struggle sometimes. “Wow, did I just take that personally?” “Am I making assumptions about someone’s motives?” Crap.

Onward to my point. I’m a big Brené Brown fan, and in her latest book Rising Strong, she writes about getting back up after we’ve been suffered a hardship. By breaking this struggle down into three distinct phases: rumble, reckoning and revolution, Brown offers commonsense tools that allow us to deal with our emotions rather than letting them deal with us. Here’s an excerpt where she eloquently explains this inner “rumble” you get to have.

The point that really got me was that when something happens, we take said event and filter it through our memories, experiences, insecurities–of course the shrewish voice of our inner critic gets to weigh in–and from all of that we formulate our view of the event and thereby our reaction. Often, that reaction has absolutely no basis in fact.

Here’s an example. I see a long-lost “friend” who I absolutely adore at a public event. I run up to give her a hug, and she steps back from me with a vibe that says she’s definitely not reciprocating my exuberant greeting. Now, I’m standing there feeling foolish. Embarrassed. Shamed. I stammer under my breath, “Hey, it was nice to see you; take care,” and walk quickly away, my cheeks burning and tears stinging my eyes.

Here is the story I hear in my head:

She never liked you.
She only pretended to like you because you hung around the same group of people.
No one really likes you.
People think you’re an asshole.
Even some of your own relatives talk nasty about you.
You’re worthless and unlovable and a fool.

Good. Grief. That is a wide swath of destruction from a 15-second interaction with a person who doesn’t cross my life or mind on a daily basis.

In the past, and by past I mean the 42 1/2 years before I read this book, that 15-second-interaction would have destroyed me for weeks, months, who knows how long, but I would have overthought the shit out of it.

However, with this new skillset–thank you, Dr. Brown–I thought about it, but in a more productive way. I tore apart those statements and addressed them not only as lies, but also really mean hateful lies that I would never speak to anyone. Course my inner critic–she’s such. a. bitch–seizes any opportunity to cut me to the quick.

The ensuing conversation in my brain went kind of like this:

So what had happened was: I saw a person I liked a lot, and she blew me off.

She never liked you. Maybe not, but I was always kind to her, and in the past she was kind to me also.
She only pretended to like you because you hung around the same group of people. So be it. I don’t hang around those people anymore, but I don’t dislike them. If that is the only reason she was nice to me, then she isn’t really the person I thought I adored.
No one really likes you. Bullshit. My husband and children adore me. I have incredible, loyal, and amazing friends.
People think you’re an asshole. I can be, for sure, but what other people think of me is none of my business. I really try hard to be kind and compassionate.
Even some of your own relatives talk nasty about you. Touché. And they are motivated by their own issues that I didn’t cause and I can’t fix.
You’re worthless and unlovable. So. Not. True. I mean that’s just ridiculous. That’s like calling a skinny girl fat. You’re just grasping for mean things to say now.

And so it goes. But for whatever reason, this time the lesson stuck. The story that I’m telling myself right now…about that interaction STUCK with me. I got it. Brené Brown, I love you.

Today, I saw this:

 

 

Holy Mother of Moses. That shook me to my core. I talk about my inner shrew a lot, and I realize  that her weapons of choice are the negative, critical words I heard growing up.

 

Gulp. Here’s the thing: I’m far from perfect, and I have said shitty things to my kids that I don’t want them to grow up and use as ammunition to attack themselves. But instead of beating myself up about it, I’m just going to keep trying to do better. I say far more kind and loving things than I do mean things. And I always apologize when I mess up.

 

Do you do this? Tell yourself stories that may not have any foundation in reality but really make you feel like crap? Is it just me and Brené Brown? Surely it can’t be because home girl’s selling books like she found the secret to youth and skinniness.

 

If this feels familiar for you, you should read this book. In the meantime, try to stop and listen to the story you’re telling yourself. And remember. It’s just a story. In your head. You can edit, rewrite, or just freaking delete it.

 

By the way, the person who didn’t want to hug me? It wasn’t about me at all. I can’t tell her story, but her reasons for not wanting to interact with me had nothing to do with me. Don’t take things personally. Don’t make assumptions. Keep being a work in progress.

 

xoxo