Comfort in Chaos

I’ve accepted that Confusion is a natural part of the Human Experience; regardless of age, situation or stage in Life. Not the minor-league confusion over what the most ‘natural’ of natural supplements might be, according to Amazon (truly scary how much authority they’ve assumed). But the larger, ‘cosmic’ confusion on such topics as Happiness, and Life Purpose. According to much of what I read and hear from the collective of Wise People on our planet (I include writers, poets, philosophers and other Thinkers, in this mix), my confusion is all part of the fun. Yes, fun. Life is meant to feel like a gamble, a mystery, a stumble-in-the-dark to find the light switch. Even if you think you’ve found it, Life can plunge you back into the dark without warning, so, enjoy!  Comforting? Not so much.

I was in this thought pattern (read: cul-de-sac) when the Interweb, in its typical invasive fashion (which, It protests, is really all in my best interests), poked its nose into my current reality with its ‘predictive’ analytics. It seems that a deep dive into emerging topics that have foundations in science (the Heart-Mind connection is actually the vagus nerve in action, for example) can trigger emails from Numerologists. Yesterday, via one such email, I was advised to check my resistance to the many wonderful things (manifestations) lined up for me, like planes on the tarmac waiting for clearance from The Great Cosmic Control Tower. My problem, said this email (from an AI source, no doubt), was that I was not ‘allowing’ good things to flow. Clarity would come, I was assured, once I purchased the advertised product.

Like everyone else on the Interweb, I pretty much scan email headlines for any relevant bits, then hit Delete. But I couldn’t be too annoyed by this kind of spam, I reasoned with myself, since The Art of Allowing has become a commercial ‘thing’:  the obvious answer to every question involving everything from small personal struggles to major roadblocks to abundance and well-being. Accepting my responsibility for my own happiness is not a ‘stretch’ for me. But checking-in with myself on a regular basis ( read: meditation) about whether or not I’m self-limiting or even sabotaging my own dreams…is this really necessary? Amazon thinks so. So do a whole host of other people who want to make sure I’m living my Best Life, for a small fee.  But, is Resistance, and its cousin Suffering, optional?

Sometimes it’s good to look inward. Sometimes it’s better to just go for a walk, dance, have another cocktail, take a nap or soak in a hot bath. In my case, in this minute or two of self-analysis (about how resistant I am), I chose to re-read — ‘comfort food’ for my over-active brain – one of my favorite authors. Meg Wheatley’s an important thinker who shares her ideas using our natural world as an anchor for understanding. Wheatley uses Nature to explain how Systems – from our own bodies, to our relationships, to our larger external world – are the foundation of everything. Paradoxically, a vital part of any system is chaos:  the kind of chaos that creates momentary discomfort, but also leads to inspiration. As I knew she would, Wheatley had something to say – a reminder for me, really – about ‘confusion’:

“We can’t be creative if we refuse to be confused. Change always starts with confusion; cherished interpretations must dissolve to make way for what’s new. Great ideas and inventions miraculously appear in the space of not knowing” .

(Wheatley, “Turning to One Another…”, 2002)

So today – whenever I catch myself thinking about all of the things in my Life that haven’t yet taken flight — instead of monitoring and nagging myself with questions about ‘resistance’ versus ‘allowing’, I’m going to take  comfort in the chaos of Not Knowing.  The blank canvas or page that requires confusion, uncertainty and especially skepticism about Formulas for Living Life Correctly.

When You’ve Painted Yourself Into a Corner…

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There’s a time-worn idiom in the English language that I’ve always loved (English Lit. undergrad, I love all forms of word-play). This idiom is a verbal visual of someone painting a floor (I guess that was common, back in the day of rough-hewn floors) ‘blindly’, not realizing that his back’s against a wall: no way to leave the scene without stepping on wet paint and ruining the floor.

“Painting oneself into a corner” means, You did this to yourself; a blind move; a stupid move. The kind of move we all make in our lives – some of us many times over. The actual mistake can be harsh words that can’t be taken back; it can be bluff and nonsense about our skills; it’s very often a lie told that is sure to be discovered as a lie. Finding yourself in a corner, with no way to back-out unnoticed (without paint on your shoes and having to re-do the floor) is embarrassing on many levels:  it’s feeling exposed and foolish. For a minute, it’s hard to know just what to do. Then, the urge to get out of that corner becomes critical and there’s just no choice. You’re going to leave a mess, and be stuck with paint on the soles of your shoes.

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As human beings, we all say and do things that are ignorant, or that reveal our “tunnel vision” toward a situation. Our ego gets in the way and the resulting ‘corner’ we find ourselves in escapes our attention until it’s too late. Then, we  immediately feel the absurdity and humiliation of our predicament. (Anyone who’s ever embellished their resumé and then been asked about a particular aspect of it during an interview has lived through this idiom.) It’s clear to everyone watching or participating what’s happened. It’s usually pretty clear, also, what needs to happen next. But this is what’s so very hard for most of us (unless we’re toddlers, then it’s totally easy-peasy denial).

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Acknowledging that the predicament we’re in is of our own making, and reconciling this within ourselves is awkward. Even though making mistakes and ‘owning’ them is part of Life’s process of learning and growing, self-forgiveness — especially with a harsh Inner Critic –requires reflection and peace-making. But that’s only Part I. Part II is the way in which the person or people we’ve hurt or deceived react.

I had the opportunity today to watch and listen to someone – an older family member – realize he’d ‘painted himself into a corner’ — with snarky words aimed at a much younger relative who in no way deserved them. Within a matter of moments it was clear to me that – at his mature age (almost 70 years old) – the older man was still nurturing an ancient wound ; a grudge, to be exact; and had no way to explain (or back out from a painted-in corner with any dignity) his misplaced anger.

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What needed to happen right then?  “I’m sorry” would have been really good — perhaps even preventing the need for any further explanation. And what was the response from the other ‘side’? Sadly, but wonderfully, even though an apology never came, the recipient of the nasty words responded with grace by not acknowledging the misplaced anger. The younger man left the older man in his ‘corner’. Like a few people I’ve known in my life, I’m guessing he’ll stay in that corner until the garish red paint he splashed all over the floor with his words dries completely, and he can slink away. Even when Grace is extended, sometimes people don’t recognize it, or don’t feel they deserve it.

The Truth is, we all deserve Grace. We can wait, and hope it comes somehow, or, we can summon the courage in ourselves to ask for it.

Changing our Emotional DNA

Sending Love…

My interest in what I call My Tribal DNA has increased over time. Not the popular “Twenty-three-and-Me” kind of sleuthing we can do to determine our cultural lineage. No, I’m referring here to how my sense of Self was formed, based on the experiences sent to me, via the DNA of my ancestors. This is a huge area of scientific study: how things like wars, famine, migration, and exposure to violence and other traumas create changes in our gene pool. In many instances, this is done through words.

It definitely helps, when you’re trying to figure yourself out (focusing on reasons behind the negative stuff, usually) to have a basic idea of who your grandparents and great-grandparents were; where and how they lived; and the events they may have lived through. In a previous Post of mine, “Wait for Me…”, I shared a story about my maternal grandmother (born in 1898) who’d lost 7 siblings to the dominant illness of her time, tuberculosis. There are parallels, nowadays, for this kind of loss. But, other than my granny, I know of no one else in my biological tribe who’s lost seven immediate family members during the formative years of growing up. I can only imagine the deep pain, seeping into the remaining family members, quietly and gradually changing their internal biology. Words of hopelessness, and grief, uttered in hushed tones. Words of frustration and anger shouted to the heavens. “Why?!

The experiments of Dr. Masaru Emoto have offered proof, for years now, that thoughts and feelings affect physical reality. Emoto’s research has helped me understand how and why I’ve been so incredibly hard on myself for most of my life. I can’t summarize here (do justice to) these amazing studies of how spoken words affect water-crystal formation; hopefully, my Readers are already familiar with Emoto’s research. (If not, it’s really a worthwhile detour). The takeaway for me is that Words Have Extraordinary Power. More than I was ever taught through The Golden Rule; more so than I ever learned in psychology and leadership classes.

Growing up with negative words or too much critical analysis in the family can change a child’s physical chemistry (just as Emoto’s water crystals were affected by words like Love, and Hate). I don’t feel that my family, two or three generations back, were a bunch of mean and dysfunctional nut-jobs. But I can piece together how their conversations– their words and vocal tones – could well have been fearful, angry, sad, stressed and utterly confused. My ancestral family, based on my research, were emotionally-tough people; they had to be, just to be able to survive in times fraught with challenges and unwanted sacrifices. If I’d lost so many children, I’d be a complete “basket-case”. I can only imagine how they were able to get through that.

My strong ambition to achieve; my perfectionism; my self-criticism; my worry and fears; my sense of life being a ‘struggle’ – usually over-exaggerated – is clearly a part of my tribal DNA. I don’t offer this as an excuse, but an explanation for, and a way of understand, a lot of my “issues”. I also think of this imprinting (and its results in my life ) as a reason to try to change this emotional DNA in raising my own child, and through my contacts with other people (and their conversations).

Words don’t just nurture, encourage, diminish or debase on-the-spot (as in the instant-impact of social media). Harsh, or loving, words are also creating generational patterns of attitudes and behaviors across the globe. Bringing about change begins with my own understanding of the power I have to resist those words (The Critic) that cause me to be less than I know I can be. With others in my life (even my pets!), making sure that my words soothe, even when I’m tempted to “go off”, sends a ripple — I believe — of Hope into the world.

When I worked with extremely at-risk adolescents, the vast majority were growing up in emotionally and physically toxic environments. In a formal study I did, it was remarkable (and disheartening) how much yelling and verbal abuse occured daily in their lives. But, I also felt a resilience emanating from many of these kids; a determination to someday live in a way that was vastly different. Despite the verbal messages of, “You’re not smart enough to…” “You’ll never be more than you are right now (pregnant, under-educated and unemployed)”, these young people were already in the process of canceling-out the ability of such words to shape their futures.

Current reality may be very tough; we may be harrassing ourselves constantly with negative messages. If we choose to, however, we can begin to change outcomes by noticing and questioning where this stuff comes from. I remember a short blurb I began seeing in my college Psych classes, about the power of words and the temptation to use them recklessly: Is it True? Is it Kind? Is it Helpful? This little check-in can nip sabotaging self-talk right in the bud, before it takes root in our souls. It’s a slow process, but it feels so good when it becomes habit. And it will.

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