You see, my default mechanism is to try and make everybody in the room feel good. If I think I have something that might help, damn if I am not in there annoying the hell out of the person with questions like, “did you try this? maybe if you try that?”
One weekend many years ago I was spending the weekend at my college roommate’s home in Yarmouth, ME. She was in the kitchen prepping dinner and I was in the front room checking out one of her latest projects. When she called out to me, “You okay, Beth?” her question of course asking did I need more wine, another basket of cheese straws to maw down, a hostess-y inquiry, right?
What I’ll never forget is how her 3-year old daughter rushed into the room with a deeply concerned look on her face. The repetition of her mother’s question had an entirely different meaning. “You okay, Beth?” her little voice peeped as she put her small hand on my cheek (I was sitting on the floor).
She thought I might be hurt, might need some help– hell if she wasn’t three years old. (I know, heart melt, totally and completely).
I remember this because I knew that little girl was of the tribe that is so tuned into another’s feelings that it can be a real burden if you don’t learn how to manage this odd gift.
Sure, I have just gone off on a crazy-ass tangent but bear with me here– I think I know where we’re headed.
Since I last wrote, much has shifted for me. I feel inordinately better– although nothing in my external world has changed (in fact, they are calling for snow showers this morning– yippee skippy!) What I want to share — at the risk of being a preachy, pontificating, pedant– is that I am so grateful for a learning that has taken root with me and made moving through life so much more bearable.
Just the act of witnessing my feelings, acknowledging them, naming them– putting them out there to the universe– causes them to shift. Instead of attaching to them and making them part of me by saying, “I’m sad or I’m isolated”– I just see them as elements of my day– and lo and behold, off they go. The act of just accepting them, being with them causes them to roll along.
I know. Preachy. But it’s just so cool. And such a relief. No doubt this is at the base of talk therapy or zen buddhism or other things I haven’t studied and don’t know anything about– it does seem pretty basic, but damn if it hasn’t taken me a lifetime to begin practicing it.
So, short news is– last night my beloved Michelle reminded me it was the first new moon of the new season (she even drew a Tarot card for me!) and I did a little candle/music magic and isn’t it funny?
Take a guess at who rolled out of bed this morning just before 6am– meditated, walked the dogs while the sky was still pink, did some yoga and was ready to begin the workday by 9am.
Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose, non?