Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Letting Things Go

I think that as everyone gets older, it becomes easier for us to let negative things go. We do not stress as much about what people think of us, we aren't as hard on ourselves on mistakes, it takes less time to forgive or forget slights, and we may even begin to shrug at some misfortunes.

I know that I feel this way now, and I can say that it is quite a relief to let go. Many negative things in life are only as powerful as we let them be. We create monsters out of those negative things, and give them their power. We do this a lot when we are children, and we continue to do this the rest of our lives. What we don't have to do, is make so many monsters. 

It's simple, but it's not easy. I think that every individual's path to understanding how to let things go is different. Mine for example, was purged in my youth. Other kids at school were very hard on me, and I was harder on myself still. I was very self-conscious, and though I was strong academically, I spent more of my time worrying about trying to get other kids to like me at school than anything else. I found something to fear in many aspects of my day-to-day existence: That I wasn't good enough at a sport, that I looked like a dork, that someone would push me around in the hallways, that my family was poor, that my artwork would get too much praise from the teacher, that someone would call me names, that I would sound too smart in class, that people would make fun of where I lived and the cars my parents drove, that I didn't wear the coolest clothes, that my handwriting was bad, that I was Catholic, that I had Jewish heritage, that... All of the things that were me, that identified who I was, I tried to hide and pretend weren't there. I couldn't let go of caring about all of those things, and it made a lot of my childhood miserable. 

Now I'm not complaining about my youth, I loved much of it, and was blessed with more than I ever could deserve. What I didn't have was the ability to let go. It was unfortunate that I went to a small town school; I didn't have friends that supported me and I wasn't comfortable letting myself open to identifying with anyone for fear of being made fun of. I taught myself well to hide. I pulled all of those monsters around with me on a tight chain, and hid them. Perhaps in a way I built fake monsters by not being myself: I tried to wear the clothes the other kid did, I kept quiet when I knew answers, I made excuses to avoid playing sports, I hid during recess and open class periods, I made my parents pick me up late or from distant locations to avoid being seen, I tried and failed to make fun of other kids...

Instead of letting go, I defied the world and myself! When I look back at that time now, I am floored with how stressed I was as a kid. I'd like to go back to that little boy now and tell him that it will all be okay. That none of "this" matters as much as he thinks it does. That he is only creating and building up monsters. But maybe that visit to the past would be a mistake. I am very proud of myself with how I handle stress now by letting things go, and maybe it took all of that practice as a child fighting monsters to get here.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Mirror

I hadn't stared into my eyes in the mirror in quite some time. I've practiced this in the past before some significant even or change, or maybe during some great obstacle in my life. I haven't done this in a while not because I haven't had my struggles...and not because I haven't made some big shifts in my life and philosophy...rather I just simply hadn't given myself a moment to stop and reflect.

I have always seen myself as two. My heart and conscience, and my mind and body...I think that's how I separate them. When I look into my eyes in the mirror, it is as if I am looking into this familiar being that I love like no one else. While the entity that is doing the loving, has no body at all.

A couple of days ago I confronted myself. I looked into my eyes. I watched my pupils waver...growing and shrinking in size despite my steady disposition as I held my face a couple of inches from the mirror. While staring at those familiar eyes, I drifted into the sense that I was standing nearly nose to nose with another being. I became conscious that I was not looking inward but outward. For a brief moment I felt as though I was not looking simply at my reflection, but Ryan.

I let my head fall against the mirror, and it seemed like I was leaning my head against Ryan...and we were understanding our joys, pains, and worries. It was as if Ryan was sympathetic to me because I was sympathetic to him. I reached my hand up and pressed it against the mirror. In the same way, it was as if Ryan and I were reaching out and putting our hands together...feeling moved by that basic human touch that seems so powerful at times.

I stopped looking into my eyes and looked down...and it still felt like I was leaning my forehead and pressing my palm against someone. I began to cry, slow at first. My abdomen and chest tightened and I gasped, holding my breath lightly until I could shiver out shaky, drawn-out breaths. Tears welled up in my eyes, and in my peripheral sight I could see that reflection dealing with the same emotions. Noticing this made me break. I tried to suppress my tears and gasping. My choked breaths broke through though...and I could see the tears falling off of my own face and into the sink. It felt comforting. I felt like I was grieving with someone and supporting them at the same time.

It wasn't until I was writing this that I realized I hadn't cried with someone in a very long time.