Your Circle of Trust…

One of the hardest things for me to accept while I was trying to repair my broken self was the idea that people I love are not always trustworthy. I am the kind of person who takes a little time to decide if I can trust someone, but once I make that call, I am ALL IN. I never re-evaluate. This has caused me great distress.

To avoid having to re-evaluate relationships, I had this bad habit of making excuses for people and requiring more of myself in some relationships. By all outward appearances, it seemed that in some relationships, I would do all the "giving" and someone else was allowed to do all the "being." I rationalized this as being kind. It is not kind. It is unhealthy.

To find my way back to joy, I had to step over some dead bodies and just let them lay there. I had to do an appraisal. I had to think back and remember - is this relationship both authentic and trustworthy...or is it not. In order to thrive, we all have to make some tough calls. Some people we just have to let go of - even if we really like them, even if we understand why they are behaving as they are, even if we love them.

We must keep walking. Once we have assessed and determined this is our course, we do not ruminate over the past, we use the past to propel us forward with new tools for building and nurturing relationships.

Here's why: relationships, trusting and authentic ones, are crucial for mental health. We cannot live without them. But we need to be selective. Some people need to be let go, others need to be moved to the outside of our circle of trust. This is not judgmental, this is using discernment. This is not saying someone else is bad and we are better, it is acknowledging that, for whatever reason, we are not a good fit for one another.

Do you find it as hard as I do to admit that not everyone is our friend?

Finding YOUR Joy!

Without doing my therapy via a blog post, which is really boring and not helpful, let me say this: I found a hard thing to do that fit with what I was learning about myself in therapy. Here's the thing: I needed to find my joy. MY joy. I enrolled in a program that required me to spend money on myself, attend workshops and retreats and write papers and engage with strangers to work toward a goal. It benefited no one but me. It required others to "give" me support while I was "being" a person in search of her joy.

Today, as I write this, I have recently completed my program. In a few minutes, I will push a button (or whatever it requires) and my new website will be launched that will allow me to pursue my same passion in a new and different way. I am pretty darn joyful.

I had many second-thoughts and frustrations along the way. This work required me to dig deep and shift from "human giver" to "human being."

I have accidentally stumbled into the benefits and joys that only came when I was willing to admit that many of my old ways of thinking, doing and feeling were not working for me anymore. Once upon a time, I believe they helped me survive. But I wanted to move beyond that. I want to be a person who thrives.

What's not working for you? What failure do you need to acknowledge?

Laughter is the Best Medicine

Sophie Scott, a neuroscientist reports that when we laugh, we use an "ancient evolutionary system that mammals have evolved to make and maintain social bonds and regulate emotions." This is not the polite laughter we learn how to employ when a dad tells a joke. This is that laugh-until-you-cry laughter. I remember one holiday meal with the McBeans and Owens; collectively our kids are pretty funny and terribly irreverent. I recall how Pete's mom laughed so often and so long that I could not decide what was more fun - the good company or Marion's wonderful response to the stories and memories shared around that holiday meal. Laughter reminds our body that all is well; it closes that dang loop!

When was the last time you laughed until your sides hurt? How can we get some of that back into our lives?

Reclaim Your Joy

My grandchildren saved my life; it is a lot of pressure to put on newborns, but this is the truth of what happened. Their births awakened within me a profound joy. I remembered. I remembered that life was not all work and no play. I remembered that babies grow like weeds and I would only have them for a few short years before I either descend into senility or they get a hankering for their own kind - their peers.

I realized that I was slogging through my one wild and precious life as if someone had attached heavy weights to all my positive emotions, hopes and dreams. I felt stale and stiff and used up. I looked around and recognized that some of the patterns from my childhood were being replayed in my current day reality. This was not good. I was disgusted with these patterns. I was lonely and hopeless. I was sinking fast. I dreaded trying to go to sleep and dreaded waking up to the chaos, confusion, and conflict that infused not only our world, but my community. I read somewhere that dread is anxiety on steroids. That sounds about right. But what could I do? I did not know and so I did nothing.

I believe that I am responsible for every moment of my life. There is no one to blame or pawn my work off on. My life. My work. I needed to get some help but part of being depressed is that we feel helpless. I knew I had a problem - the loss of joy. That did not turn out to be the problem but it was my starting place and although I did not know what to do next, I did know that I wanted to reclaim my joy. Or maybe find it for the first time.

As you pay attention to yourself, notice if you are receiving any clues that something needs to change in order for you to grow and thrive.

A Tiny Exquisite Moment…

As I listen to my new friend, Pete is providing enough information for us to apply for a loan or get a security clearance so we might play tennis in sweltering heat with an inevitable outcome - I will lose. I hope they take their time because I have a feeling this gal has a story she is itching to share. And really, don't we all? I know sometimes it seems like our own lives are bland compared to what we read on facebook. But listen - Facebook is not real, it is a vehicle used to advertise things we do not need but feel we must have to be happy. What's real are these stories! These marvelous, rich, amazing stories of everyday flesh and blood people whom we come in contact with randomly...for a purpose.

I pray for you a long line today. I hope you meet a stranger who tells you a marvelous and wondrous tale. Or maybe you are the stranger who will tell your story to another and in the sharing there will be a little spark of recognition, a glimmer of essence, a tiny exquisite moment of joy in the seeing of another creature, made in the very image of God.