Losing – And Then Finding – My Voice
It was a hugely social event – and there I was unable to add my voice, unable to tell stories or add my laughter and comments to other’s stories. This was incredibly frustrating for super chatty me.
It was a hugely social event – and there I was unable to add my voice, unable to tell stories or add my laughter and comments to other’s stories. This was incredibly frustrating for super chatty me.
I read the email and immediately felt stung by criticism. I tried to stay present to my reactions. I noticed my body sensations – the familiar block in my throat and tightness in my chest. Then I watched my thoughts and the stories that spun out in my head in response to the criticism.
In the frenzy of interactions with stuff and with others, it’s hard to have a feeling of oneness with the world. Surprisingly it’s in stillness that oneness is more easily sensed.
I really wanted to move on. But the problem seemed to have a mind of its own and it kept eating at me. Eventually I talked to my wise friend Paula about my dilemma. She said, “Here’s the problem. You can’t solve this with your head. This is a place your mind can’t go.”
This summer I’ve spent time cultivating that feeling of connection and oneness. I’ve become aware, with a deeper knowing than I’ve ever known before, that the source of that deep sense of connection and love is within.
As I sat down to take on the challenge to stop talking and stop thinking – because you’ve got to admit – it’s a great challenge – my first thought was, “No talking? No thinking? What else is there to do?”
People pleasing and reluctance to notice what I want and risk asking for it is a learned strategy for avoiding disappointment. When viewed this way I have to bow down to the little kid in me who must have figured this strategy out long ago. It worked brilliantly to avoid major disappointment. But now that I’m older – and have the ability to look at this more deeply – I’m thinking disappointment isn’t so scary anymore. I’m thinking the risk of disappointment is definitely worth the gain of living more fully by noticing and feeling free to express my preferences.
I want to feel good all the time. And when I don’t feel happy – in addition to the unhappy feeling – I’m unhappy about being unhappy! I want to as quickly as possible figure out the problem, change things up, find a solution and get back to happy. This is my habitual way of processing life events. But as I bring a more mindful approach to everyday life it becomes apparent that it’s the resistance to unhappy feelings that’s the real problem. Why so much fear around feeling anything other than happy contentment?
I’m on a kick of exploring the truth. What I’m looking at is my personal truth. I’m trying to be completely open to and honest about what I’m feeling. Does the thought of brutal honesty make you nervous? No worries. I’m not communicating to others exactly what I’m feeling! I’m simply trying to be honest with myself. Not “brutally honest”, but “lovingly honest.”
I couldn’t escape the conclusion that telling and retelling the story was making me feel worse – every time. I had to ask myself – what is the point of retelling the story?