It’s hard to find your inner joy when someone else’s foot is 5 inches from your face. Let me explain.
Yoga has been a part of my life for the past seven years. The more I practice the more I learn about myself. It allows me a glimpse of the joyful and free person I can be in all areas of my life. Last nights class was a perfect example.
Most people give up on their resolutions by mid March or early April (research shows this). But why? Personally, I think it’s because we aren’t resolving anything within ourselves.
Take me for example. For years I’ve made New Year’s resolutions that I’ve given up on. I start the year excited and ready to go but quickly crash and burn. Where do I start? How do I get from point A to point B? I’m confused! Help!
It’s 7am when my alarm wakes me up. I roll over and pick up my phone to check Instagram to see how many “likes” my post from yesterday gave me. Not many. Bummer. My internal dialogue goes a little something like this. Why don’t my posts get as many “likes” as other people? I continue to scroll through Instagram and notice that a friend of mine “liked” a picture from someone this morning yet they hadn’t “liked” my picture that was posted yesterday. This brings about more internal dialogue. How come they “liked” that persons photo but not mine? Did I do something wrong to this person? Are they mad at me?
Perfectionism is a shield that we often use to protect ourselves from getting hurt (or so we think). I learned at a very young age that if I'm as close to perfect as possible I can avoid or minimize judgement and criticism. I didn't believe that it was safe to be seen for who I really was...a scared little boy. This is me putting down my shield and allowing myself to be seen. Imagine a world filled with people putting down their own personal shields and allowing themselves to be seen. That's a world I want to live in. So what's your shield?
I’ve been looking for a new job, so I recently decided to update my resume.
“Hun, can you please help me with that?”
“Of course, my love.”
“Thanks, babe.”
Not only did my wife help me revamp my resume, she drafted me a killer cover letter as well.
“You’re the best, babe!”
“Happy to help, sweetie.”
I opened the cover letter the other day and found a discrepancy, something that immediately touched my deepest core wound.
When I was eight years old my father burst into my room in the middle of the night, high on drugs, and threw my dresser drawers all over the place.
“Stop your crying!” he screamed. “Stop your crying!”
There was a crazy man in my room and I was terrified.
“Now clean up this mess!”
I was shaking. What on earth could I have possibly done to deserve this? With a slam of the door he was gone.
My thoughts lately have been so hurtful.
Things like: I’m not a good writer. I’m ugly. I’m stupid.
I’m not funny. I can’t carry a meaningful conversation. I’ll never be special.
The world is out to get me. People take advantage of me. I’m boring and don’t matter.
Like I said, hurtful. Crippling, demoralizing thoughts. One not-so-nice thing after another, and it makes me want to cry.
Every time life gets difficult I blame God. Each and every time. No, internet? God’s fault. Is traffic making me late? “Why are you doing this to me?!” God again. I take it personally. Like he’s attacking me. Punishing me. Why not. I deserve it. Right? Hardly. That’s the way I interpret it. That’s my default.
I’m having a really tough time right now. It’s my day off and laundry is on my list of things to do. Yet when i went out to put in a load in the washing machine I found someone else’s clothes sitting in there. Wet having gone through a cycle.
Yeah. I live in a apartment complex. Community washer and dryer. Don’t like it. I used to live in a place that had it’s own right in the apartment. Talk about heaven. Why on earth did I ever give that up. But I did. And now i’m here. Onward.
I got the call late one Sunday afternoon while sitting at work. “Babe, your toilet tub and shower are backed up.” What?
“It’s bad babe, and getting worse.” Okay, I thought, I’ll call my landlord.
“Hello, this is so and so and you’ve got my voicemail. Please leave me a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”
Damn. Answering machine. Message left.
I’m at jury duty and hating every second of it. Where’s the judge? I really want to give her a piece of my mind. Judge? Come out come out where ever you are.
Speaking of which I just had the chance to tell her why serving on this jury is tough for me. Financially that is. Didn’t care. Next! Excuse me? I work on commission and if I’m not at work I don’t have the chance to make money. Hence financial difficulty. “Do you have a savings?” she asked. Yes. “Great so there’s no problem” she said.
Master manipulator at your service. Oh. You don’t need to be manipulated? Okay. How about a liar? I’m a real good liar. Don’t need one of those either? Hmm. I know. How about a victim? I can play that role with the best of them. Wow really? Not that either. I thought for sure you’d want a victim. What do you want? Excuse me? You want me to just be me? Yeah that might be a problem.
Have you ever wanted to say goodbye to someone but couldn’t? Wanted to tell someone that the relationship between the two of you wasn’t quite what you wanted it to be? Have you ever wanted to end something but you were too afraid to do so? Afraid of how the other person would respond? Afraid of hurting someone? Afraid of the unknown?
Relationships are tough. Even more difficult is maintaining healthy boundaries within a relationship.
My head hurts and I feel like I’m going to throw up. Let me explain. I’m in a loving, healthy relationship with a beautiful woman, and I’m proud to call her my partner.
Great, so why do I feel like I want to throw up? Well, because last night was a tough night for us, for me, and today I have an emotional hangover.
