The Wounded Inner Child and Experiencing Our Vulnerability

I have been sad lately.  I have felt curled up inside and afraid, like a lost child.  This is a recurrent place that I visit.

When I am strong and confident and coming from love, I cannot remember why I ever would feel this small and lost.

But now that this pall of sadness and fear is visiting, I cannot remember how I ever felt strong and confident.  That place of strength isn't currently accessible.

So I have been doing what I can do while I am here, which is to observe the feelings, and be compassionate with myself (which is easier said than done!), and to practice meditation, and to see if I can allow myself to play.

A wise mentor recently said that this inner child, which is currently in fetal position, is not my true self.  It is one face of my experience, but not THE TRUTH about me.

That was tremendously helpful.

It reminds me that I am more than my wounds.  It reminds me that I am also strong and gifted and loved.  It reminds me that the sun is shining behind the clouds.

Why do I write this?  Why am I so vulnerable in a public space, where I might invite doubt in my capabilities, or censure for struggling, or condemnation for being "weak?"

I put this out there because I believe I am not alone.

I put this out there because I believe these sorts of inner dynamics are all too common, and a friendly hand, or a kind voice, or a helpful sign-post can make all the difference when one is lost in a fog and feeling alone.

I am not the only one on this journey who sometimes feels like I am three years old and on my own---who forgets that I also have an inner adult who is loving and wise and strong, even if temporarily out of sight.

And you who walk beside me in vulnerability and honesty are my true companions, not the voices who are

judging.

I judge other's "weakness" as a defense against feeling my own vulnerability.  I would rather just be honest about feeling sad and lost, than judge others as a way of defending myself against feeling this way.

And honestly, the deepest strength belongs to those who can admit their own vulnerability.  Well, that's the story I am clinging to today.

For deeply insightful explorations of shame and vulnerability, I recommend anything by Brene Brown.

Go courageously into this day, even if all that looks like today is breathing and stopping negative self-talk.  You are lovable and loved!

http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psN1DORYYV0

http://www.onbeing.org/program/brene-brown-on-vulnerability/4928

"My Blanket And Me"  - 

aka 

"Ego Defense Mechanisms: Necessary Supports? or Walls That Prevent Growth?"

Rev. Alison Longstaff

July 21th, 2013

Grand River Unitarian Church, Kitchener, ON

Meditation: Though the human body is born complete in one moment, the birth of the human heart is an ongoing process.  It is being birthed in every experience of your life. Everything that happens to you has the potential to deepen you.  All the possibilities of your human destiny are asleep in your soul.  You are here to realize and honour these possibilities.

-John O'Donohue-

          My talk today is based on sacred texts by Charles Schultz and Dr Seuss---okay, a pretenda-Dr Seuss, but I’m pretty sure Scott Grace was channeling Dr. Seuss when he wrote today’s reading.  Two excellent sages.  I have to say, that one of the things that I love about Unitarians is that you accept guiding texts because they speak a truth, not because they are from an officially approved document.  You recognize and honour wisdom when you encounter it, period.  It need not come wearing an official, church-sanctioned cloak to be treated with respect.  I find this wonderfully refreshing.  And so today our lesson is from the Gospel of “Peanuts” by Charles Schultz.

         Let’s take a look at Linus Van Pelt and his blanket, and decide what sort of role his blanket plays in his life.  Linus is Charlie Brown’s best friend, and the bossy Lucy Van Pelt’s baby brother.  (Hmmmm.  Just having Lucy as an older sister explains the need for a security blanket for me.)  Linus sucks his thumb, with his trusty blanket thrown over his shoulder.  Wise beyond his years, Linus often manages to avoid Lucy’s bullying by outsmarting her or confusing her into submission. He comforts and reassures Charlie Brown by listening to Charlie’s endless tales of failure and discouragement. Deeply philosophical, Linus almost serves a pastoral role in the beloved comic strip.  With his unswerving faith in the Great Pumpkin, he’s not unlike many spiritual leaders today---respected and loved, even if his beliefs seem a little goofy….

            Despite ongoing campaigns from Snoopy, Lucy, and Linus’ grandmother to wrest the blanket from his grip forever, Linus successfully recovers his beloved blanket again and again throughout the strip; only leaving it gradually behind when he is truly ready, and by his own choice.  In the mean time, Linus’ blanket takes on a character of its own, dancing with him when they are reunited after each separation, and even carrying out sneak attacks on Lucy when she repeatedly tries to throw it in the trash burner. 

            Linus was unapologetic and unashamed of his blanket-dependency.  In one series of strips, his friend Roy warns him that he mustn't take his blanket to summer camp, for he will be teased mercilessly.  Linus takes his blanket, and with a deft flick of the wrist, snaps it at a large branch, bringing it crashing to the ground.  In the next frame Linus remarks, “They never tease me more than once.” 

           How can you not love the guy?  Bright, soft spoken, flawed, yet good-hearted, Linus resonates with a part in each of us.  He is a softer, wiser side.  A kind side. A brave and honest side.  Yet a side that is easily rendered vulnerable. He is intelligent, but profoundly disoriented if his primary comfort and defense is too far away.

          My two girls each had a special blanket growing up.  (Jordan had a pacifier and a wooden ukulele.  What can I say?  That’s Jordan.)  But my girls may still have their ragged scraps of blanket somewhere.  Jennie’s was crocheted with green and yellow granny squares; Eden’s was light blue and knitted by her grandma.  Soft and woven with love, each blanket came on every vacation, and were the first line of defense against pain and sadness. 

            Those blankets offer a tender metaphor for how we adults care for the child inside each of us.  Within each of us is the child we once were, with all his or her memories, fears, and insecurities.  Sometimes the smallest cue can take us back to an early age, and our coping mechanisms regress right alongside us.

         And if you are like me, my ego is always right there, ready to berate me and call me names, just like today’s Dr. Seussian reading.  I am too stupid or too clumsy.  I am too loud, or too quiet.  I am a fraud, and someone is about to out me.  The list is endless.  And when I fall prey to those sorts of thoughts, you will usually find me moments later doing a face-plant in a vat of chocolate ice cream.

            Over the course of my own therapy, and in my training to become a therapist, I have had often found myself reflecting on human defense mechanisms---their reasons for existing as well as the problems they can cause us.  I have been paying attention to those things that we do to reassure ourselves, to comfort ourselves, to reduce anxiety, and to restore a sense of well-being.  Some of these things are beneficial in the long run; others, not-so-much.  Some of us might turn to food to feel better; some might turn to alcohol.  Some of us scrub the bathroom.  Some watch endless movies or whole seasons of television.  Some go running, or practice yoga; and some bury themselves in work.    Some of us beat ourselves up inside and resolve to try harder.  (Because maybe if we impress a few more people and make a few more dollars, we’ll then prove we are worthy of love?)  Some of us phone a friend, or repeatedly check Facebook for “Like”s.  Some go out to a bar or coffee shop for a while. Some go shopping. Some watch sports. Some sleep, and sleep, and sleep. And occasionally, one of us might go out to find someone else’s life that we can try to control and fix.  Because that feels so much better than trying to tackle our own messy life.  Admit it….  

           What do you do?  What things or activities do you turn to for security and comfort? What serves as your blanket?

            From a therapist’s perspective such defense mechanisms make complete sense.  Even the ones that seem destructive serve a purpose.  They are attempts to escape pain. I have nothing but compassion for everyone, from the Coke addict to the coke (cocaine) addict.  I know what it is like when the pain is so great that nothing can stand between me and Ben and Jerry’s “Phish Food” or Dove’s “Unconditional Chocolate” ice cream.

             

             We are nothing if not creative and adaptive beings, and we are astonishingly good at finding ways to survive horrific experiences.  I cannot judge.  I don’t know what a given fill-in-the-blank addict has been through.  My heart breaks for any one of us whose coping mechanisms become themselves a new source of pain.

            Our job as mature adults is not to judge ourselves for resorting to less-than-ideal ways to escape psychic pain; our job is to do the best we can to gain enough perspective, that we can decide which “supports” to drop from our repertoire,and which to keep.  Some coping mechanisms, like cleaning or running, can be beneficial habits for a life-time. But others only stand between us and a fuller, richer life.  And then they are not truly serving us at all, they have become part of the problem.

            Linus and his blanket illustrate some real truths about the very human ways we find to cope with the

painful sides of life. When I imagined today’s message, I likened Linus’ blanket to ego defense mechanisms, which are both good and bad. But the more I look at the example Schultz gave us, I see that Linus’ blanket represents pretty much only the creatively helpful comforts we draw to ourselves.  Unlike the ego in Scott Grace’s Seussian rip-off, Linus’ blanket doesn't seek to strangle Linus, or beat him, or smother him, or blind him.  It doesn't even leave him in a diabetic coma with chocolate smeared on his face. 

            Linus’ blanket never stops him from a loving choice. It actually stands by him in making courageous choices.  He does, eventually leave it behind in the strip, but the separation is very gentle and gradual.  When he is ready.

            So what are your comfort mechanisms? Is your blankie truly your best friend?  Does it support your growth, or hinder it?

            No matter what role it plays, I invite you to take a moment to thank your blanket for being the friend it has been.  Then thank yourself for finding creative ways to survive this crazy, unpredictable life.  And only if you so choose, may you find strength in leaving the less helpful aspects of your coping behind, when you are ready.  Amen. 

Benediction: May the journey be rich, and the landings soft.  May you ever feel supported, and may you find inside yourself the love that passes all understanding.  Amen.

Magic and Miracles - Reflections on the Hero's Journey

This is from a sermon I preached in 2008... yet it is strangely relevant today

“Magic and Miracles”

Exodus 17: 1-7; Psalm 78: 1-4, 12-16; Matthew 21:23-32

                                                          

Raise your hand if the Bible seems like it is about a bunch of people who died a long time ago, whose lives and culture were so different from ours, that we really can't relate.  

Okay.  

Hands down. 

Now raise your hand if you believe that the Bible was written for all people of all time. 

Hands down.  

Thank you.  

Me too.  

You see, both are true for me, depending on the day.  

But one thing I do know is that people are people, no matter what era or culture we live in. And there is a universality about our human condition---a common ground when it comes to our fears, struggles, and longings---that transcends all our cultural and generational differences.  We really aren’t that different from each other, deep down inside.  

Because of that, the stories in the Bible truly can resonate for us today, no matter how different the time and culture may seem to be.

So, in today’s Psalm we heard about “dark sayings of old,” passed down from our ancestors.  In our story from Exodus we see an old man with a staff magically bring water gushing out of a dead, dry rock.  Staffs and magic.  It all sounds like something out of Harry Potter. 

Who knew that Dumbledore was in the Bible?  Or Gandalf, or Merlin?  But think of Moses, with his flowing white beard and great staff of power, struggling to lead a rag-tag group of wanderers on a long and desperate journey.  It’s starting to sound rather similar.

Well, as this is a Swedenborgian church, let’s see what Swedenborg has to say about it all.  .... I looked, but I couldn't find a single remark about Harry Potter in any of Swedenborg’s books.  

But Swedenborg does talk about magic wands.

 

Actually, Swedenborg talks about “correspondences,” which is ancient, ancient wisdom.  The earliest peoples saw the interconnectedness of all things and lived in a constant state of deep spiritual awareness.  This kind of wisdom has been lost for centuries.  We see only traces of it in ancient cultures, like the way the Celts believed that trees had spirits, and the first nation peoples used totem animals to represent different strengths in their tribes, and the way the aboriginals of many lands seem to intuitively know which plants are good for healing.

Moses used a staff (or big magic wand) because of what a staff corresponds to---a staff represents wisdom and power.  Kings held scepters for the same symbolic reason.  Merlin and Gandalf were given staffs because that same ancient knowing is carved so deeply into our imaginations.

A hand, or “right hand” symbolizes a person’s power, and a staff was an extension of that hand. That is why Moses was told to stretch out his staff in order to effect a miracle, like when he parted the Red Sea or brought water from the rock. The wands that we find in the hands of Harry Potter and his friends are the modern day symbolic descendants of the staffs of power. 

A staff also corresponds to wisdom.  That is another reason we see them in the hands of magicians and wise men in fiction.  A staff represents the great knowledge that the wise men had at their disposal.  In the days before widespread education, their unique learning definitely elevated them above the common people, bringing them respect, power, and status.

But there was a difference between Moses and the wise men of Pharaoh.  The difference lies in the way they used their power and knowledge.  Pharaoh’s wise men had access to a lot of ancient knowledge, but they used it to control others.  They knew how to use it to manipulate reality, and in the beginning could copy some of the wonders and signs that Moses did.  They represent the parts of us and times in us when we are not acting from sincere and good motives.  We can fake an awful lot of goodness.  We can make ourselves look kind and loving when inside we are still pretty unkind and selfish.  This lets us practice being good, and learn about the difference between the real and the fake goodness, but it is not meant to be somewhere we stay.  By the time Moses was battling with Pharaoh’s wise men, their fakery represents a way of living that really needs to be left behind.  Moses represents the call to a real integrity--- to living in such a way that our outsides begin to match our insides.  When we are beginning to live from a truly loving place, from the Lord, our “power,” our quality of life, has a sincerity to it that leaves Pharaoh’s faker magicians dumbstruck and helpless.

Moses’ battle with Pharaoh’s wise men is just the beginning of a long journey.  Just like Frodo's journey in The Lord of the Rings and Harry’s journey in the Harry Potter novels, there are a lot of scary things still ahead.  Our heroes simply won’t make it through without the help of wise friends and supernatural forces.  It was the same for the Children of Israel. 

Psychologists who study such archetypal mythologies say that we love such stories precisely because they resonate so strongly with our human experience.  We are all on a quest to become better than we are.  We are all driven to rid ourselves of whatever dark forces haunt us; we are all compelled from the cradle to find our true other, our true love---and to live with a sense of purpose and peaceful belonging.  These longings lie at the core of each one of us with very little variation from person to person.   Deep inside we are not so different from one another.

So you and I are born into our own hero’s journey, and you and I, even now, are on a quest. 

It is the quest for integrity, belonging, and meaning.  It is the quest to our truest self and true home.  

None of us will make it either, without the help of wise friends and supernatural powers.  But with them, we will all make it, no matter how scary and hopeless it sometimes looks.

Now, it may seem as though I’m playing fast and loose with the Bible story here, but bear with me.

If God loves every single one of us with absolute devotion, tenderness and compassion; if God wants us to become more and more content, fulfilled, and blessed for the rest of our lives, then it stands to reason that He will use every resource at hand to give us meaning, inspiration, and courage---yes, even the Harry Potter series.

You are a rare person indeed if you can read the Moses story and find it as magical, fun, and totally cool as some of today’s modern fiction.  But that's okay.  The Bible is a highly sophisticated style of spiritual writing with a whole lot going on, and isn't meant to be modern fiction.  It wasn't designed that way.  It has got too much else it needs to do given its limited context and simple language.  It speaks to a  deeper part of our psyches, if we are to believe Swedenborg, creating lines of communication between us and heaven---between us and God.  It isn't so much meant to entertain us, as to feed us on a deep spiritual level.  It is like a densely nutritional spiritual drink (that sometimes tastes like lawn clippings) where Harry Potter is more like frozen yogurt.  It is okay to prefer modern fiction.  Just try not to dismiss the Bible altogether.  It's cooler than you think.

Now, running with this hero's journey metaphor, if we are indeed on our own quest, then we, too, have devoted and loyal friends; we, too have weak companions who will help us sometimes and betray us other times.  We, too have powerful allies, and a magical, powerful mentor who has this annoying habit of disappearing just when we need him most, but who shows up just in the nick of time to bail us out of scrapes.

Does this resonate with your life?  Think about it awhile.  

Now, for me, I have several pretty cool earthly mentors, but my Gandalf figure is more like my relationship with God.  Sometimes it really feels like God is present, and I feel safe and hopeful and positive, and strangely magical things seem to sweep away the road blocks and monsters in my life.  But other times, God seems completely out of earshot.  Gone.  Unreachable.  Maybe even dead.  And life is pretty hard to get through during those times.

I'm guessing a lot of people feel this way.  At times like this, we have no choice but to go on, though the whole project can seems pretty hopeless.  We tend to think we've done something wrong to make God go away, but that isn't necessarily true.  Sometimes, it is a necessary phase of the journey.  We don’t often realize it, but we tend to grow much stronger during those times.  We develop and hone our God-given strengths, and really learn to cherish our travelling companions as well.  It isn't fun, it definitely isn't comfortable, but we can learn some important personal lessons when we are feeling alone.

The children of Israel whined a lot when things got rough.  They certainly felt like God had abandoned them several times on their journey.  Things got so bad, they were threatening to kill Moses.  They were going to stone him with stones.  Instead, God brought their salvation just in the nick of time, using a stone.  The thing that could have killed Moses became the source of their salvation.  Water from a rock.  Life out of death.  There is layer upon layer of meaning in this simple story.

In our lives, big and small miracles are happening around us all the time, though we often don’t remember to look for them.  And I don’t just mean the miracle of a baby’s birth or a grandchild’s first word.  I don’t even mean the miracle of a completed sermon by Sunday morning.  I mean the sort of strange miracle which we call coincidence, or serendipity---the sort which tends to make us want to sing the theme music from the Twilight Zone.

You know what I’m talking about. 

 

Five years ago, smack in the middle of the absolute worst years of my life, I had pretty much lost my faith in God.  Rotten stuff just kept happening, month after month.  I was really not on speaking terms with whoever was in charge of the universe, if anyone was.  I was too blasted angry.

The thing is, strange things kept happening during those years.  Really strange things that I can only say felt like encouraging nudges from some supernatural presence---I don’t know how else to describe them.  Call them synchronicity.  Call them hocus-pocus, or chalk them up to my wild imagination, but there were enough of them to make me sit back and take notice. 

Sometimes, they were down right silly.  And often, they made me laugh.

Does God communicate with us in such indirect ways?   I don’t know.  But during those hellishly difficult years, coincidence after magical coincidence kept happening.  Nothing that forced me to believe in God, nothing that forced me to let go of the disillusionment---just gentle, often humorous oddities that defied explanation.    Amidst all the chaos and pain, some Divine Being was playing a kazoo, trying to get me to smile.  I felt seen, supported, and almost elbowed in the ribs by some benevolent source.  It was crazy.  I think this was my “manna,” small and sweet, during my wilderness, giving me just enough encouragement to get through another day.

The saying that God never gives us more than we can handle is simply not true.  God frequently lets us go through more than we can handle; it is just never more than God can handle.  And it is never without a purpose for good for everyone involved in the long run. Period.  Never.  I learned a bunch of things during those terrible years---things I don’t think I could have learned any other way.  One thing I needed to realize was that it wasn't God’s job to spare me from pain and suffering.  God’s job is to help you and me grow into the best, most wise and loving people we can be, as far as we will allow it.  Sometimes that involves some pretty uncomfortable experiences, but the pain is never for nothing.  God always hides miracles and gifts amid the rocks along the way. 

So when you go from this place today, I hope you go away encouraged.  God is always working miracles in your life, even though you can’t see his magic wand.  God’s compassion shows up in all sorts of surprising ways if we just remember to look for it.  Call these things coincidence.  Call them serendipity.   Call them what you like, but I call them miracles.  I think they are little post-it notes from God reminding us that we are not alone.  Just wave back, and say “thanks.”

Amen.

Know yourself, and become a blessing

"Go forth from your country, your clan and your parents' house and become a blessing for all the families of the earth." (Gen 12:1)

"Lech lecha," the Hebrew command to "go forth" also means to "walk towards yourself."

So this journey is both outward and inward,

freeing yourself from the conditioning of nationality, tribe, ethnicity, race, gender and religion

and devoting yourself to being a blessing--

a catalyst for justice and compassion

to ALL the families of the earth, human and creation. 

~Rabbi Rami Shapiro~

It keeps coming down to the same thing. 

 

Promoting world peace, compassion, and enlightened relationships starts and ends with me. 

(And YOU.)  

It starts with individual, personal, spiritual work FIRST, which then manifests in effective change in the world.  I must "know myself"---all my vulnerabilities, sensitivities, and "character defects" as well as my gifts, strengths, and areas of shining effectiveness, if I wish to be a blessing.  

I must leave my comfort zone, of feeling inferior.  

I must leave my comfort zone of feeling superior.

I must leave my comfort zone of being sure I have all the answers.

I must leave the comfort zone to which I retreat when I feel too stupid for words.

I must be open and honest, not hiding and manipulative.  

I must accept responsibility but not blame, and be willing to assign responsibility without blaming.  (Blame includes a condemning, dehumanizing quality that presumes the superiority of the blamer.)

So long as I hide, because I am ashamed, I am giving power to the lie that others are better than me.  So long as I believe the lie that I am superior, I invite those for whom I harbour contempt to hide and feel ashamed.

There is a third way that is without hierarchy.

It involves humility and humour, frankness and forgiveness, confession and compassion.  It involves a willingness to lead from my strengths without apology, and to ask for help in my areas of weakness without shame.

I must know myself WELL, in all my beauty and brokenness, and recognize how deeply lovable I am ANYWAY, to help the world manifest that wisdom too.

Do you see yourself completely and love yourself anyway?  (No airbrushing.  No strategic drapings.)  It takes work!

I know that when I can see myself completely, and not allow fear of my unlovability to cloud my vision, I will be my most effective in loving others and intuiting ways to contribute.  I will be a blessing.

And when many of us can do this, the world changes.

peace,

Rev. Alison 

Do We Choose Fear or Love As Our Starting Point?

As the new warmth slowly relaxes and opens the soil, the buds, the hearts, and the faces around me, I am reflecting on two basic approaches to life: fear-based, and love-based.

Right away I can hear the fearful voices clamouring for why the fear-based approach is the needed, necessary, and only way to stay safe in life---the only way to protect ourselves from "other,"  "bad" people, so we can survive.

I want to give a nice, juicy, sedative-laden fly to that protective lizard-part of my brain, and put it back in its cage with a, "thank you for wanting to protect me." ("But shut-up. You're not helping").


It has long been known that anxiety and fear reduce our ability to think rationally and calmly.  To the extent that fear and anxiety are running in our beings, we regress to more primitive coping mechanisms.  We become younger, smaller, dumber, and more impulsive.  This is a deeply built-in evolutionary mechanism that is there to insure our physical survival.  It is literally our "lizard-brain" stepping up to keep us alive.

But so many situations today that may trigger our lizard brain are not about physical survival.  Something we love may feel threatened, but rarely is it a matter of life or death.

We MUST become more self-aware, so we can stay consciously present and non-reactive when something feels threatened, so that we can make (more ) rational choices.  We MUST cultivate an attitude of love, so that our hearts can remain open.

This lizard-brain perspective currently seems to have a strong emotional lobby group on the planet just now, especially in north America.  Just look at the NRA and their message of what is needed, and how emotional it is.  Just at a glance, would you say their insistence on guns and MORE guns is fear-based, or love-based?  Would you say their perspective makes the planet a better, kinder, more reasonable place; or a more segregated, fortress mentality, fearful place?

And which planet do I want to live on?  Which one do you want to live on?

For those who admire and follow Jesus, with his choice to stand and be crucified in his message for love, rather than going to war, where do we imagine Jesus would stand?  What message might he stand behind?

(Can you IMAGINE the United States turning the other cheek after 911 rather than going straight to war?  No.  I can't either.  But I can wish the possibility was even on the table.)

Have the good guys won yet?  Is war solving the problem?  When will we learn from Jesus' and Ghandi's (and Obi-wan Kenobi's, etc. etc.) examples?  Perhaps death of the body is not the worst thing?  Perhaps being personally attacked is not the worst thing?

As I try and try to understand the fearful rhetoric and divisive language, the shouting and blaming and stonewalling in the US AND the Canadian governments, I wonder what is at play in the world just now.  WHY are we so afraid?  And what can I do to make a difference toward DE-escalating the anxiety?


 In spiritual evolutionary theory, we must progress from a black/white, good/evil, linear and hierarchical (fear-based) model to an inclusive, cooperative, growth and healing (love-based) model --- so as to enter into greater wisdom, enlightenment, perspective and the ability to love wisely.  This is a progression, and the black/white model cannot imagine or fathom the inclusive model any more than a caterpillar can imagine being a butterfly.  It also feels threatened by the inclusive model.  It cannot imagine how the inclusive model will include it too.  But it will.  With love.

In any case I am choosing to stand for peace for one more day.  I am willing to be crucified (gossip, blame, hatred, contempt, character assassination) for one more day --- alongside so many other wise and loving souls.  

We are not alone in our stand for love.

We will never stop standing for love.

love always wins.
Rev Alison

Time For Hope and Inspiration

I find this truly inspirational. May you be inspired too. Consider subscribing to this young man's feed. Peace and blessings as you go out into your day.

Radical Honesty; Radical Self-Compassion

I was recently on a site for life coaches in training, and one coach posted this question: 

"Three words came to me as I was coaching an individual yesterday to overcome their fear and calm their anxiety. The three words that I shared with the client were:

1. Confident ! , 2. Joyful ! , 3. Powerful !

I would like to hear from you what Three Words you have found  as a coach that inspire others?"

My response comes straight from my heart, and current personal experience.... As someone who periodically visits discouragement, apathy, and hopelessness, (aka right now.  Let's hear it for radical honesty!) I have been reflecting on what it might be that will sustain me when I'm face-down in the mud with a boot in my back. 

What sustains me most at such times are messages from my coach that say: 

1) they've been here too, and 

2) know how hard it is, and 

3) to hold on, keep breathing, and remember that I'm not alone. That this will, indeed, pass.

Then I go to tapping: "Even though I feel hopeless, apathetic, and discouraged, I deeply love and approve of myself anyway...."

Let's be fair: sometimes focusing on positive qualities to which I aspire is just what I need.  (I picture that YouTube video of the tiny girl on the bathroom sink punching the air and saying, "I love my WHOLE HOUSE! I can do ANYTHING....!") 

But sometimes chanting positive qualities just sinks me deeper into the mud, because of the gap between where I wish I was and where I am.

Sorry to be a devil's advocate. 

Confident! Joyful! and Powerful! are amazing words, and could work wonders, if I had any part of my psyche that could grab and hold on to them. Sometimes I don't even have that. (Hmmm. Perhaps my market niche will be coaching the really hard cases?)

Dark humour sometimes is far more powerful than "thinking positively," in my case.

So, for those like me, here are some wonderful bits of dark humour that have gotten me through the blacker times:

Things are darkest, just before ... they go completely black.

What doesn't kill you, just makes you ... wish you were dead.

When God closes a door, he opens a window ... to give you something to jump out of.

The light at the end of the tunnel ... is just a train coming.

We are born naked, wet, and hungry; then things get worse.

So when the platitudes and aphorisms are setting your teeth grinding, have a couple of these in your pocket.  They can brighten the day tremendously.  Anybody have others to share?

Ya gotta love humour.  

The God I believe in has a brilliant sense of humour and approves of this message.

Hang in there!

Alison