A New Story...
Within two days, I received two different messages pointing to the same concept:
The first message focused on staying with the present moment. The future is here now…now…now. The past was a second ago, with no possibility of stepping backward in time and doing something different. The present is the only option that counts.
The second message focused on connecting with Spirit and to “Get A New Story.”
The point was letting go of how I perceive the past as defining me.
For a while after Charlie’s death, every day was like wading through sludge, neglecting important tasks, feeling overwhelmed with simple chores.
Clean out my boat, create a new story, and connect more meaningfully with Spirit. Got it. Uh-huh. How, please?
“Get A New Story” continued to float through my head. “I KNOW!” I would answer this new voice with exasperation. “What exactly would you have me do?”
Day in and day out, this concept plagued, prodded, and cajoled me, demanding some action that I did not know how to take. “WTF, Spirit? I need guidance, input, some type of structure. HELP ME!” And the only response was “Get A New Story.” To little satisfaction, I drew cards, meditated, and read inspirational books.
Then, one day while I was walking our new puppy (more to that story another day), the first epiphany hit like a lightning bolt.
I have written about this process before in Piecrusts and Freedom. My thoughts - critical, gloomy, depressing, and punishing - had become like an old piece of chewing gum. The ever-present anger and resentment had come to the forefront. “What do you want? What are you trying to tell me? How do I let you go? What needs to be resolved?” were the questions I continued to ask of these emotions. Then the essential question formed, “What, through this behavior, am I trying to control?”
The past does not define me. Whatever happened in the past that I continually churned over and over again, or the voice that constantly plagued me with criticism and disapproval, no longer served me (if it ever did). GET. A. NEW. STORY!
The window was starting to crack open. I finally understood that fatiguing, depressing, and angering were attempts to meet the craving for freedom and power. As a child, I was rewarded for accommodating other’s time frames and emotional demands. Deep-rooted messages followed me into adulthood and kept reminding me my needs were not as important.
Contemplation and inner reflection brought awareness that I get the crabbiest when I feel pressured for time or when “me time” is interrupted and neglected. It feels like being trapped. Thus the desire for freedom.
Through the practice of Centering Meditation, I have become acutely aware of how much my mind is constantly chattering at me, which is exhausting. I need time EVERY DAY to quiet the nattering in my head and feed my psyche. Soul nourishing activities include yoga, meditation, honoring the Divine, gardening, hiking, reading, writing, and just being.
It has been an enormous relief to recognize the internal conflict between my needs and the desire to meet the needs of others. Understanding this discord has been the most significant factor in accepting and changing some less graceful behaviors. Additionally, it provides a structure for healthy boundaries and to say “no.”
Ironically, very few people “demand” anything from me. It has been my perception of what a good mother, wife, daughter, sister, auntie, friend, professional, or colleague “looks like.” Seeking approval, praise, and affection as a child clouded the lens of how I perceived others in my life. Through this lens, everyone became the one person I wanted approval from the most. Perfection was the name of the game. The good girl. The golden child. That was my burden.
And in the end, the day-to-day relationship with that one person became estranged. But their voice never left my head.
Into the Boggart wardrobe, the voice is tossed, with me laughing hysterically at the expectations that went with it. “You mean you expected me, let alone anyone, to be perfect? HA!” At this point, my visualization has me rolling on the floor in stitches at the absurdity of the belief that anyone could be perfect. Indignation storms across this person’s face, making me laugh even harder. Perfectionism is merely an illusion creating a path made of stress and misery.
Ouside of McLarty Treasure Museum
I’m not sure if I should be sad, mad, or shocked that I tried so hard to be perfect. As a recovering perfectionist of 17 years, I think I will just shake my head, congratulate myself for the insight, chuckle at the notion of perfection, and move along on my journey.
There is freedom with this knowledge and insight. The lens of how I perceive my relationship with others has changed to a healthier, clear color allowing for more substantial and meaningful connections.
My New Story? With a cleared-out boat, I feel lighter and laugh more. There is room to readily embrace joyful memories. The future appears brighter. My intention to stay in the present moment is set. That is the framework for my new story. We’ll see how it fills in.
© 2013-2021 Kelly Marker, Charlie’s Wisdom All Rights Reserved
The information and material on this blog are based on my personal opinions and experiences. It is not intended as professional mental health advice. The ideas and strategies should never be used without first assessing your mental health situation, or without consulting a mental health professional. My thoughts and opinions will continue to evolve and change as I continue to grow and learn.
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