Stopping Self-Rejection

In the twelve step program there is a promise (actually there are twelve promises) that goes like this: "We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it."

This was a surprise to me.  I couldn't help but wonder, how could anyone---let alone someone who was trapped in a destructive addiction for many years---not regret the past?  Every single one of us has made stupid mistakes.  That's just reality.  I have plenty of embarrassing memories that I would happily never revisit. But the 12 steppers are saying that I can eventually get to such a place of self acceptance that I don't even wish to shut the door on those embarrassing memories?

Wow.  That's hard to imagine.

My usual reaction to any embarrassing memory is to slam the mental and emotional door closed on it immediately. I just want to forget it. I want to move on. I don't want to be reminded.  I want to chop off that whole moment of my life sometimes, or label it "bad" and put it in a box and declare myself separate from it.

But the 12 steps invites me to view my whole life journey with far more compassion. The truth is that at every step in the past I was doing my best, even if I now consider several choices misguided or unfortunate at best, or downright hurtful (most often out of very ignorant intent to do good) at worst.

The 12 steps, among other schools of thought, invite me to accept all of me.  It is more of a "restorative justice" approach to my own relationship with myself, rather than an adversarial, blame-and-imprison approach.  After all, who I have been is part of who I am today.  And everything I believe about the Golden Rule invites me to extend to my past self the same grace and forgiveness which that past self would have desired and deserved.

This practice of forgiving all my past mistakes, no matter how embarrassing, and embracing every part of my life as lovable and one of my teachers, has shifted something else in me.  It has opened up a whole new compassion in me for my neighbour.

See, I now like to believe that God has been guiding me every step of the way.  -That God's loving wisdom is so all-encompassing that S/He is preparing each of us to be our very best selves USING especially our most clumsy, embarrassing, and destructive moments.  Every moment becomes part of our spiritual training, not just the ones we are proud of.

It is human nature that, when we feel particularly ashamed or broken, we often feel that we can only start again by wiping our slate clean---by declaring a sort of no-fault bankruptcy.  We can feel it is the only way to shed all of the heavy shame that we can carry associated with those past mistakes.

"I'll never drink again." "I'll never hit my wife again." "I'll never shame my children again." "I'll never binge and purge again." And so on.

Sometimes these resolutions result in an actual permanent change, but not nearly as often as we might like.

And the truth is, we can never really chop off any part of ourselves. Every memory and moment and experience stays.  We can emotionally box it up and label it "bad" and try to keep it from entering our consciousness ever again.  But my experience of doing so has just left me with depression and anxiety and a bottomless pit of shame.  (AND they still haunt me anyway.)

So I have to ask, WHY cut off a part of ourselves if we really don't need to?  It is only shame and pride that urge us to do so. Humility allows us to accept all that we are: even if it is an alcoholic, or a rage-aholic, or an abusive parent, or a bulimic---and that we are still lovable. In fact, that admission, plus the consequent learning and healing that can follow, can transform an "alcoholic" (or any other "ic") into a powerful force for wisdom and healing in the world.

So I declare, let's stop cutting ourselves down.

It is a lie that any one of us is more worthy of love than any other. Some of us may have more socially acceptable defects, while others have defects that are still heavily stigmatized. Yet God loves each of us just the way we are, and has a plan that includes moving us steadily towards our best selves.

"There are no throw-away people. There are no throw-away people.  There are no throw-away people."  Rev. Mark Carlson.

In my experience, my best self compassionately loves others just the way they are. It is the Golden Rule.  I would wish to be gently loved and patiently taught and not rejected despite my moments of complete jerkitude (it is too a word!), so how can I not extend that generousity to others?  And how can I not extend that generousity to the less attractive parts of myself?

After all, what goes around, comes around, eh?
Thank you for listening.

Alison