As I get closer to people I'm less inclined to jump to simple conclusions about their life and struggles (or how I might fix them). As the "armchair adviser" in me recedes, compassion, sadness and hope grow. As one of my mentors told me, "When you really get to know another person, sometimes all you'll want to do is weep."
Transparency fosters this continual revelation. And the more open another person is with me, the more clearly I see the truth of Plato's saying, "Be kind to everyone you meet, for everyone is waging a terrible internal battle."
~Jenny Schroedel
I concocted a soymilk eggnog latte this morning, slightly sceptical about how it would turn out. Not bad, though...very sippable. I added just a dash of cinnamon and a few drops of vanilla. Viola! Me, the barista.
Leaving breakfast dishes scattered on the table, I sat down at my computer to start writing, when a full 3D picture of my kitchen sink flashed into my brain, obscuring every other thought. So to the kitchen I flew, mindlessly arranging dirty dishes in a basin of suds and cascading water. Suddenly awareness returned. I blinked my eyes, dazed, hands dripping.
This is about being real, I think to myself. Another authentic moment...the kind that brings you back to the storyline. Mindless dashes are not uncommon in my world, but I've had 34 years now to examine those interesting quirks...not quite so many in higher level thinking.
(I am reminded of this and this and this. )
Here's something real:
When I was younger, I would have instances when disturbing scenarios would repeat over and over in my mind. One common scene would be me getting into a car and shutting the door on my leg. I would try frantically again and again to get that leg in before the door shut. It felt overwhelming, impossible. Finally, with all my brainpower, I would force the leg in and slam the door shut. Sometimes, I felt physically tired from the stress these type of episodes would cause. And, honestly, it was pretty disturbing. I thought I was weird and probably the only person to have this type of brain. High stress seemed to trigger moments like this and make them more intense.
When I felt extra stressed, I would start blinking. Sometimes my eyes would feel stuck closed. I had to work to get them open. As I got older, I would bargain with myself. Say, if I didn't get the silverware put away in the drawer just right, I would have to stab myself with one of the knives. Sounds crazy, I know. I felt a little fearful putting the utensils away, but I never followed through on those sorts of bargains. They were just there, reflecting the inner-struggle. The scenarios changed as I got older, but were always most intense in times of stress or emotional upheaval.
Now I know that I'm not crazy, just a bit obsessive...and knowing is half the battle. I can laugh at my mind's tendancy to need a tidied dorm-room in college before I could start studying.I can laugh at having to make sure the dishes are done before I blog. I can also say to myself, "leave them," and walk away. And that is an accomplishment that brings me peace. My leg no longer gets stuck in the door either. The occasional weird thought is allowed to pass through and move along without having to be "fixed."
A story that once brought me deep pain and frustration now only leaves a tinge of bittersweet. Why? Because this is a little girl I know, whom I have found deep compassion and love for...a little girl who has grown into me. And that makes me smile.
But it's only part of the story and the story is just that...a story....something to learn from, cry, laugh and grow through.
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