On July 16, 2014, I took to the trails with the simple intent of getting exercise. As I began walking, a symbolic turn began to evolve. I decided that I would use the crest of the mountain to be my cliff to relinquish all that had been my 43rd year. While there are positives to be gathered, overall, it was a remarkably difficult, emotionally draining year. Unbeknownst to me at that time, this became a journey sprinkled with wonder and messages.
Prior to my hike, I had made a stop and considered buying an armband to hold my phone and key. Being a cheap-ass, I decided against it, choosing instead to tie the key to my shoe. I had done this before, and I was confident it would be just fine. My feeling was if my shoe untied, I would know the key no longer in place. I kept an eye on the way up, just to ensure it was held securely. The walk was beautiful. The time was about 7:30pm, and I don't think I could have placed an order for more perfect weather. The sun was shining, but beginning to shift in preparation of setting. There was a gentle breeze. The temperature was in the low 80s with no humidity to note. I couldn't have asked for better conditions. I received a call as I parked. It was from someone who generally doesn't call, and I definitely was not expecting this at this time. A nice surprise. I also found this call to open a window of emotion that I didn't anticipate. That came later.
The hike up the trail led me through a fairy village, Girl Scout style. I loved it, as they had left behind their creations, and invited others to share in building their little area. I smiled as I walked through and observed their efforts at creating a land of mystery. Very sweet little detour. From there, I passed a number of other hikers. There is a kind nature about hikers. They tend to be friendly in a passing sort of way. It's nice.
As I began to reach the peak, I was taken by a surge of emotion I did not expect. I was genuinely overwhelmed as I sat on one of the Indian Seats and looked out at the horizon. The sun was beginning to soften, yet was blaringly bright. As I sat, the emotions that took hold did not identify themselves, and to this minute, I cannot put concrete terms to what they represented. But they were ready to leave. I cried. Hard. Snot and tears were pouring down my face. To sum it best, it was a sort of cleansing that left me feeling strong and at peace. The reaction was profound and unanticipated. My emotions tend to be pretty raw and at the surface, but these came from somewhere so deep that I was a bit unnerved. I am so grateful to have had that moment, and to have embraced it rather than try and pretend it didn't exist. The ladies next to me, however, must have felt differently, because they left. Oops.
I spent maybe 10 minutes at the top, but knew dusk would be settling in soon. I started my trek back down the path. I had been thinking for some time about starting to run. I figured with gravity on my side, and short patches of smooth, flat ground, this was as good a time as any. As I started toward my first "burst," I passed a man and woman. As I stepped by, I started off with a runner's gait...and swiftly tripped. I did not fall, but it was certainly comical in my world, as well as typical. They asked if I was okay, and I laughed and said yes. I was off.
When I reached what I now refer to as my bench of peace (close to the trailhead,) I realized I had to pee in the worst possible way. Good news! I was very near the fairy village! So, off I went to have a most satisfying experience in the fairy village. I appreciated using their facilities:) And there is a certain peculiar giddiness that comes with peeing in the woods, so I felt a little burst of energy. Because I was getting close to the trailhead, I reached to take the key off my shoe. To my surprise, the key was gone. Now, it bears repeating that my whole confidence of using this key holder was if my shoe untied, I would know the key was gone. That is where the mystery begins. I don't know that the mystery will ever find an earthly, end. You see, my shoe had not untied. It was still as tied as when I started. And the key ring was not a flimsy one. It was one that would not randomly work its way off and disappear. And I know with certainty I had the key when I began to trek down. I made sure. Just in case. And it was there. And now, my real experience began.
I had only one option at this point. I had to make my way back up the mountain to see if I could find the key. If I was lucky, I could find it and get out before dark. I wasn't lucky...at least in that sense. Instead, this is how the remainder of the evening went...
I encounter a couple, a man, and two women as I started back up the trail:
The couple was very kind. The man asked if I needed a ride (I didn't), and the lady respectfully asked if she could pray for me to find the key (I accepted.) When she concluded her prayer, she looked at me and said with confidence that I needn't worry. I would find the key.
Next came a man, probably in his late 50s or early 60s. He was running...not in the way I would have been, but for-real running. I asked if he had found a key, by chance. By the time the sentence was out of my mouth, he was pretty far past where I stood. He came back and said he would run (not kidding. He just finished his run and he was off again) up the trail to see if he could find it. And he meant it. He asked what he would see, and I described the key, ring, and the little swippy things like you use at CVS and other stores. I wouldn't see him for some time.
Finally came the women. One didn't speak, but the other said she (the silent one) had lost her key before and it was HORRIBLE! Just the worst thing! (She was very emphatic about this being awful.) She said they got the keys back, but not for two days. She also said if she found them, she would put them on the bench.
For these five people, I was very grateful. The runner guy came back without the key. He let me know how far he had gone (I kept going, as there was much more distance to cover.) By this point, it was dusk and I was using the light on my phone. He said if he passed it on the way out, he would put it under my windshield, and he would let the ranger know I was up there. I thanked him profusely. He went on his way, and I on mine.
From the moment I knew the key was missing, I felt nothing but calm. I did not have a sense of worry, fear, anxiety. Nothing. Just calm. It was an adventure with the adreneline. I continued up the trail until I was about 1/3 of a mile to the top. I realized my battery was draining, and I would be in a world of trouble if my phone died. So, I turned around without my key. I called for Pam to pick me up, and let her know my phone might die. I figured at worst, I would have Pam bring me back early in the morning, and I would start the hike again. I walked the trail back in darkness, except for the light from my phone. I felt no urgency or distress. In fact, at one point, I was thinking how I hadn't even seen any animals...not even a squirrel! I did realize there could be coyote, but everything seemed still. Right at that moment, I hear a short but definite howl. I'm not kidding. But I wasn't scared. I actually laughed, as if to acknowledge I knew they were out there, but thanks for the reminder.
With another mile plus to go, I heard a man's voice calling out. I could not understand the words, and if they were not knowingly directed at me, I did not feel it necessary to advertise myself. So, I kept walking. Soon thereafter, I saw what I thought was Pam's car lights in the distance. I smiled at being able to see them. Then I laughed because I realized there was no logistically possible way it was Pam. I called out, "Hello?" I figured at this point I better let it be known I wasn't afraid to confront whoever might be there. The response was that he thought I was who he was looking for. I asked, "Do you have a car key?" To which, he replied, "Yes."
And now, the rest of the crazy story. The man with my key was the ranger. I asked if the man in red had found it. He said he had. This man, whose name I know only to be Chris (he didn't want this to be a deal, so preferred to be anonymous), had gone to ranger with my key and told him I was up on the trail. He was in town from Pennsylvania on business and happened to find the mountain, which suited his running needs. He wasn't in town for long. The key was down the trail, where I had not been since last knowing it was on my shoe. In addition, the second lady also stopped to tell the ranger about me. She told him that she said she would leave the key on the bench, but she was worried a crow would pick it up (???--A crow??) He told me that was funny to him, because his (ranger) last name is Crow. At that point, I needed to go. The number of crazy details to sort out had hit a max. Let me just say, I am SO grateful to each of these people, and deeply appreciative for their interest. And to the universe, who issued me such a deep and amazing kiss-off to 43? Nice job. I liked it. :)
Friday, July 18, 2014
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
I am that girl...
Over the past few weeks, I have spent a fair amount of time hiking. I also have committed to a re-alignment of how I eat. With my favorite foods having historically been heavy, starchy, fatty, and delicious, and having seen the rewards of my endevours with those foods, I determined if I am to be happy with my physical self, I was due for a change. And so it began.
I am not sure where my weight topped the scales when I started this venture, as I was too ashamed to see the number that popped up. I do know that clothes were grossly uncomfortable and unattractive on my body. A visit with the doc for an annual exam revealed I had come to a landing number of 192...three long and hyper-focused weeks after beginning my new way of being. I was both sad and happy at the same time. I was sad to see how far off track my life had taken me. I was sad to see that I had worked three weeks diligently to see the scale at a number that I had chased away long ago. But I was happy, because I thought the damage was to be much higher than what was reflected back on that scale. I settled into the knowing that regardless of where my body had been, it was on its way back to a healthy state.
As mentioned, I have taken hiking and walking as my primary form of exercise. They work well for me. In doing so, I don't always encounter many people. This also works well for me. While I believe that hikers are generally really pleasant, I appreciate the solitude with nature. The reacquired interest in health has brought about some significant self-realizations. The one that repeats most frequestly is, "I am that girl."
As an observer, I frequently find myself mentally lauding people who defy the limitations their weight may hold on them, and instead set out to exercise. The "big girl" biking, the man with the extended belly pumping his arms and shuffling his feet as he works to make it further today than yesterday, anyone who has exceeded a comfortable weight yet pushes themselves to get outside, breathe fresh air, and fight to be one step healthier. And then I realized..."I am that girl." I am the girl who, for reasons that mean nothing to an outside observer, let life get the best of me for awhile. I am the girl who, with little else to comfort myself, ate whatever crap I could put my hands on. I am that girl who made fast-food a way of life, because without a steady place to land, it was just easier. I am that girl who spent the past year wallowing in the pity of my choices, and not standing up to do what needed to be done for me. I am that girl who's weight got out of control, and I became the girl I was mentally applauding while I drove down the road eating my #16 from Steak and Shake. I really am that girl.
Initially, this realization was not particularly self-flattering. I felt disappointed that I had lost myself so deeply into patterns that I had tried to release from my being. I got fat. I got lost. I got sad. I got got. I was done in by my own choices. And then I got relieved. Recognizing that I am that girl became humbling. I had created a victimhood where I lived. It is a neighborhood that doesn't thrive on change or awareness. And now, I was aware. I was aware that my choices had spun me into the body of someone I didn't want to be, someone with whom the healthy me couldn't identify. I was hiding. I was self-sabatoging. I was self-deprecating. I was failing.
Knowing now that I am that girl...that I am every girl...who has been given more at times than is comfortable to handle, who copes in ways that are familiar, even when they are destructive, who wants more than she is able to reach on her own. I am every girl. I am not alone. I am not isolated. I am not the anamolie. I am what we all encounter at various times. And now, I am that girl who wakes up, takes control of that which I can change, and starts to move. I am that girl on the roadside putting one foot in front of the other, monitoring what kind of foods I allow into my body, feeding myself water and fluids that are beneficial. I am that girl who is healing, who is wanting happiness and peace, and who no longer strives for imbalance.
I am every girl.
Monday, July 7, 2014
Awakenings
The past three and a half months have generated an extraordinary insight into who I am, how far I have grown, how much I have healed, and how life is nothing more than a continuing journey in which we get realize our potential with every breath. I have also realized how far away from myself I got. The past three weeks, I have endured an emotional whiplash on a number of levels. What I have come to realize bit by bit, and profoundly as of today, is that I am the creator of my emotional whiplash. I am the person who has instituted the guidelines by which I accept people into my life. The acknowledgment that I am the sole author of these rules by which I have projected responsibility to others has created a profound and intense release. The sum of the awakening to ownership occurred in over teh course of key interactions. To unearth some of the deeper-rooted lessons, I must first reveal the trajectory of the events.
In trying to convey my feelings of inadequacy and unimportance, I discussed in detail events that had occurred, and that supported why I feel so strongly regarding this interpretation. Example after example would roll off my tongue to create support of my argument. Some of the events were recent enough to warrant that the pattern continued, despite several conversations about how the behavior impacted me. The last example occurred approximately 3 weeks ago. I was sick in my stomach. I expressed how I felt and went for a walk. I like walking. I am able to process through my thinking, and respond to physical cues that I am not always able to understand. This particular walk, I felt angry, frustrated, and hurt. It was during this walk, somewhere around the cow pasture, that I had a significant "A-ha!" moment. There were two very important revelations. The first was that I am guided to knowing I have something more personal, internal, that I need to be uncovering when I have that sick feeling in my stomach. That feeling is my cue that I am supposed to be learning a lesson about ME, not someone else, during those moments. What I found the lesson to be was hugely impactful. I FINALLY came to the realization that, for all of my evidence to support my argument, I WAS AT FAULT. I had created an environment of acceptance in which this person was given permission BY ME to treat me "less than." I allowed it. I accepted it. I encouraged it. And then I resented it. This was such a tremendous revelation!! I have spent years coming to the point where I acknowledge and own my accountability for the relationships I create. But I was blinded in this one. I had become unhealthy in my role. I had become lost from my ideals. I had invited someone to not treat me equally.
As I write this, I sound as if I am excusing behavior. I am not. And she does not. The behaviors have been discussed, and she has owned her role. She works hard to transform how she interacts. Last night, there was a significant exclamation for me. In conversation, I had interpreted a comment that she felt I was remiss in accounting for her behavior as being taken "personal." My opinion is that it was personal and not inappropriately identified. Part of our healing is to have open dialogue when something is amiss. I took that opportunity to sit down and discuss how I was feeling. The conversation began exactly as I had hoped. Open and honest. But rather quickly, I became caught in an emotional web. I felt the urgency to replay the past occurances. They were examples. They were my "evidence" of wrongdoing. I got stuck. And now I pay a price.
During the early stages of talking, she was gifted with tremendous insight from her spirit team. She had an awakening of her own, an identification of root. She began to recognize that she was guilty of this same behavior in many prior relationships, and she identified the origin of programming. I was so caught in the past drama, and so controlled by the demonic ego, that I couldn't settle my mind enough to shift in the conversation. She cut me off, shut me down, and said she couldn't hear anymore. I felt slighted. I wanted to be right. Why couldn't she let me get it out? And yet, despite this moment that could transform how she interacts with people forever, I was minimizing her experience to stay on my pout. And as I was leaving, she apologized to me. As I write that sentence, I can feel the tears welling in my eyes. This is where the completion of my awakening began.
My trip down ego-driven crazy was not conscious and took less than an hour to realize, but I spoiled one of the most beautiful moments to witness. The moment was the kind where deep understanding occurs,and where healing begins. By the time I reached my destination, I was feeling really low. I couldn't text her fast enough to apologize. I had failed both of us in a moment that I couldn't get back. I cheated her from fully absorbing her awakening, and I cheated myself of being able to wholly share in that experience with her. So, I apologized. Big deal. But I knew I had hit a major crossroads, whereby I was either going to go all-in or be forever regretful. I spent 12 hours living with regretful. I am so blessed to have a friend that I can bounce my crazy off of after I have sat with it awhile. Sometimes I can find clarity on my own, but I have tried that most of my life and it hasn't worked out. Part of my individual growth is to reach out when I need perspective, because one of my biggest weaknesses is asking for help. But I did it. And through talking, I became acutely aware that this was an ego-driven block that I had to confront. So, I did. I acknowledged that I was trying to push my anger and guilt toward what I had created and make her take responsibility. I was foolish. She already has taken accountability for her role. And over time, I have talked a lot about forgiveness and acceptance. And in words, I meant it. But it took me until this morning to own that I had not let go.
Holding onto the past meant that I was cheating both myself and her of living in the now. Holding on meant I was not allowing myself to trust in her growth, or my growth. Holding on meant I would be forever chained to the old relationship and unable to grow in a healthy way. Holding on means I am carrying chains that are dragging me away from where I want to be. I was failing to practice what I preach. I was allowing words to be stagnant ideals. I am a believer in actions speaking louder than words, and I was subconsciuosly being a hypocrite. I must now live my words, bringing into action the person who lives inside, but has hidden behind the ego and programmed ways of getting to what I say I want. Guess what? Following the old tapes has failed me everytime, and the ego is a shape-shifter that leads me to follow the shiny promises if I just buy in. Fuck the buy-in. I now move toward forgiveness and release. This movement is not just about other people. Most importantly, it is about me. Change sucks, but being stuck sucks worse. It's time to move. It's time to rise. It's time to be. A great part of who I am is that someone who will accomplish what I commit to. And to this, I commit.
In trying to convey my feelings of inadequacy and unimportance, I discussed in detail events that had occurred, and that supported why I feel so strongly regarding this interpretation. Example after example would roll off my tongue to create support of my argument. Some of the events were recent enough to warrant that the pattern continued, despite several conversations about how the behavior impacted me. The last example occurred approximately 3 weeks ago. I was sick in my stomach. I expressed how I felt and went for a walk. I like walking. I am able to process through my thinking, and respond to physical cues that I am not always able to understand. This particular walk, I felt angry, frustrated, and hurt. It was during this walk, somewhere around the cow pasture, that I had a significant "A-ha!" moment. There were two very important revelations. The first was that I am guided to knowing I have something more personal, internal, that I need to be uncovering when I have that sick feeling in my stomach. That feeling is my cue that I am supposed to be learning a lesson about ME, not someone else, during those moments. What I found the lesson to be was hugely impactful. I FINALLY came to the realization that, for all of my evidence to support my argument, I WAS AT FAULT. I had created an environment of acceptance in which this person was given permission BY ME to treat me "less than." I allowed it. I accepted it. I encouraged it. And then I resented it. This was such a tremendous revelation!! I have spent years coming to the point where I acknowledge and own my accountability for the relationships I create. But I was blinded in this one. I had become unhealthy in my role. I had become lost from my ideals. I had invited someone to not treat me equally.
As I write this, I sound as if I am excusing behavior. I am not. And she does not. The behaviors have been discussed, and she has owned her role. She works hard to transform how she interacts. Last night, there was a significant exclamation for me. In conversation, I had interpreted a comment that she felt I was remiss in accounting for her behavior as being taken "personal." My opinion is that it was personal and not inappropriately identified. Part of our healing is to have open dialogue when something is amiss. I took that opportunity to sit down and discuss how I was feeling. The conversation began exactly as I had hoped. Open and honest. But rather quickly, I became caught in an emotional web. I felt the urgency to replay the past occurances. They were examples. They were my "evidence" of wrongdoing. I got stuck. And now I pay a price.
During the early stages of talking, she was gifted with tremendous insight from her spirit team. She had an awakening of her own, an identification of root. She began to recognize that she was guilty of this same behavior in many prior relationships, and she identified the origin of programming. I was so caught in the past drama, and so controlled by the demonic ego, that I couldn't settle my mind enough to shift in the conversation. She cut me off, shut me down, and said she couldn't hear anymore. I felt slighted. I wanted to be right. Why couldn't she let me get it out? And yet, despite this moment that could transform how she interacts with people forever, I was minimizing her experience to stay on my pout. And as I was leaving, she apologized to me. As I write that sentence, I can feel the tears welling in my eyes. This is where the completion of my awakening began.
My trip down ego-driven crazy was not conscious and took less than an hour to realize, but I spoiled one of the most beautiful moments to witness. The moment was the kind where deep understanding occurs,and where healing begins. By the time I reached my destination, I was feeling really low. I couldn't text her fast enough to apologize. I had failed both of us in a moment that I couldn't get back. I cheated her from fully absorbing her awakening, and I cheated myself of being able to wholly share in that experience with her. So, I apologized. Big deal. But I knew I had hit a major crossroads, whereby I was either going to go all-in or be forever regretful. I spent 12 hours living with regretful. I am so blessed to have a friend that I can bounce my crazy off of after I have sat with it awhile. Sometimes I can find clarity on my own, but I have tried that most of my life and it hasn't worked out. Part of my individual growth is to reach out when I need perspective, because one of my biggest weaknesses is asking for help. But I did it. And through talking, I became acutely aware that this was an ego-driven block that I had to confront. So, I did. I acknowledged that I was trying to push my anger and guilt toward what I had created and make her take responsibility. I was foolish. She already has taken accountability for her role. And over time, I have talked a lot about forgiveness and acceptance. And in words, I meant it. But it took me until this morning to own that I had not let go.
Holding onto the past meant that I was cheating both myself and her of living in the now. Holding on meant I was not allowing myself to trust in her growth, or my growth. Holding on meant I would be forever chained to the old relationship and unable to grow in a healthy way. Holding on means I am carrying chains that are dragging me away from where I want to be. I was failing to practice what I preach. I was allowing words to be stagnant ideals. I am a believer in actions speaking louder than words, and I was subconsciuosly being a hypocrite. I must now live my words, bringing into action the person who lives inside, but has hidden behind the ego and programmed ways of getting to what I say I want. Guess what? Following the old tapes has failed me everytime, and the ego is a shape-shifter that leads me to follow the shiny promises if I just buy in. Fuck the buy-in. I now move toward forgiveness and release. This movement is not just about other people. Most importantly, it is about me. Change sucks, but being stuck sucks worse. It's time to move. It's time to rise. It's time to be. A great part of who I am is that someone who will accomplish what I commit to. And to this, I commit.
Fragmented thoughts about words
Words. I received a text last night from the person closest to me, and the one who inspires my thinking in ways no one else can. This text threw my perspective into a realm of new understanding. She said, in summary,that we should not use words to compartmentalize experiences. Our words, when used to identify an event, or relay our feelings or impressions on any given topic, infer that the person to whom they are being shared will be on the same level of understanding. Additionally, time and context can alter the same message. Perspectives change. Understanding changes. People change.
Even with this person, our most frustrating times are when we are saying the same thing, but in different ways. She and I get stuck arguing why the other doesn't understand. The effort to convince the other of our position becomes almost comical at times, because ultimately, we say our point louder, but not different. And different is what is required. Because I am not her. And she is not me. And we are not the same. So how we express what we see or feel is individualized, although often parallel.
When I read this text, I got excited! I thought, for nearly 44 years, it has been so difficult for me when people don't "get it." I suddenly realized that the "it" in and of itself is the problem. The "it" is a mirror through which we can't see another's reflection. "It" lies stagnant, in place, without anything kinetic to move toward greater understanding. On dictionary. com, there are 17 explanations for the word "it." There is not an actual defnition. The word is an indicator of varying degrees. As a stand-alone, "it" amounts to nothing specific. Thus, I have wanted people to "get" something abstract, which of course means subject to interpretation. Otherwise translated, I would be frustrated people don't "get what I am saying or doing." This is specific. This is me trying to figure out why my way of being in the world doesn't connect to someone else. This is a very narcissistic and isolated stand. If I am not able to look outside myself to determine how to help someone "get" me, then I should not be surprised when I am not understood. Hmm.
Words give meaning, create labels, allow us to communicate. There is an inherent, unspoken truth about words. Our belief is that how we think, how we speak, is all the same. But the reality is that each of us, in our own life experiences and language, create a method of interpreting events that can be vastly different. In fact, the intepretation has so little to do with the words. Consider the number of definitions for "love," or "happiness." What is "success?" These words are understood in some context by most people. Even within the US states, words exist that cannot be translated into English. For example, in Hawaiian, Pana Poʻo: "You know when you forget where you've put the keys, and you scratch your head because it somehow seems to help your remember? This is the word for it." Friedrich Nietzsche said, "Words are but symbols for the relations of things to one another and to us; nowhere do they touch upon the absolute truth.” This may be the result of cultural influences, language spoken, geographic location, coping and defense skills, or a million other nuanced reasons. So why do we assume (such a dangerous word) that our spoken word deserves to be unquestionably understood by anyone in the way we intend?
Evolving perspective, as well as cultural and place-in-time influences. Words are the meaning we give them. I have come to conclude that I give words entirely too much power. I have used words to impress, to imply a higher level of intelligence, to defer or distract, to manipulate and control. I have used words to comfort, to encourage, to support, and to love. In the end, the power of words ended as they exited my lips. What transpires as a result of or after the words is the true power. Words are but inert action. Without activating the intent of words, without generating the energy to move them into existence, we are but a book without a reader. No action comes from words, yet they can be overtly harmful in their intent. I have learned a lot of lessons over the years regarding how I say something. I have learned also that saying nothing has immense power. Silence itself can be action, even more powerful than words. And in that silence, I can build myself or destroy someone. Silence is a weapon. Silence is also a sanctuary. I have learned to utilize my silence to heal. I have created damage by misusing silence. Today, I accept accountability for all that my words have created, for what they have influenced, and for how I have failed them. I alone am responsible for my words, and the actions that make them breathe. That's a heavy reality, but one I accept.
Even with this person, our most frustrating times are when we are saying the same thing, but in different ways. She and I get stuck arguing why the other doesn't understand. The effort to convince the other of our position becomes almost comical at times, because ultimately, we say our point louder, but not different. And different is what is required. Because I am not her. And she is not me. And we are not the same. So how we express what we see or feel is individualized, although often parallel.
When I read this text, I got excited! I thought, for nearly 44 years, it has been so difficult for me when people don't "get it." I suddenly realized that the "it" in and of itself is the problem. The "it" is a mirror through which we can't see another's reflection. "It" lies stagnant, in place, without anything kinetic to move toward greater understanding. On dictionary. com, there are 17 explanations for the word "it." There is not an actual defnition. The word is an indicator of varying degrees. As a stand-alone, "it" amounts to nothing specific. Thus, I have wanted people to "get" something abstract, which of course means subject to interpretation. Otherwise translated, I would be frustrated people don't "get what I am saying or doing." This is specific. This is me trying to figure out why my way of being in the world doesn't connect to someone else. This is a very narcissistic and isolated stand. If I am not able to look outside myself to determine how to help someone "get" me, then I should not be surprised when I am not understood. Hmm.
Words give meaning, create labels, allow us to communicate. There is an inherent, unspoken truth about words. Our belief is that how we think, how we speak, is all the same. But the reality is that each of us, in our own life experiences and language, create a method of interpreting events that can be vastly different. In fact, the intepretation has so little to do with the words. Consider the number of definitions for "love," or "happiness." What is "success?" These words are understood in some context by most people. Even within the US states, words exist that cannot be translated into English. For example, in Hawaiian, Pana Poʻo: "You know when you forget where you've put the keys, and you scratch your head because it somehow seems to help your remember? This is the word for it." Friedrich Nietzsche said, "Words are but symbols for the relations of things to one another and to us; nowhere do they touch upon the absolute truth.” This may be the result of cultural influences, language spoken, geographic location, coping and defense skills, or a million other nuanced reasons. So why do we assume (such a dangerous word) that our spoken word deserves to be unquestionably understood by anyone in the way we intend?
Evolving perspective, as well as cultural and place-in-time influences. Words are the meaning we give them. I have come to conclude that I give words entirely too much power. I have used words to impress, to imply a higher level of intelligence, to defer or distract, to manipulate and control. I have used words to comfort, to encourage, to support, and to love. In the end, the power of words ended as they exited my lips. What transpires as a result of or after the words is the true power. Words are but inert action. Without activating the intent of words, without generating the energy to move them into existence, we are but a book without a reader. No action comes from words, yet they can be overtly harmful in their intent. I have learned a lot of lessons over the years regarding how I say something. I have learned also that saying nothing has immense power. Silence itself can be action, even more powerful than words. And in that silence, I can build myself or destroy someone. Silence is a weapon. Silence is also a sanctuary. I have learned to utilize my silence to heal. I have created damage by misusing silence. Today, I accept accountability for all that my words have created, for what they have influenced, and for how I have failed them. I alone am responsible for my words, and the actions that make them breathe. That's a heavy reality, but one I accept.
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