Secrets of a Samaritan

My Sunday started off like all others, a fortified coffee (Cappuccino sachet + a heap of extra instant 😳😵) and tarot reflection, then to the gym for my beloved cardio-yoga combo. Admittedly, my latest reading left me more than a bit existentially perplexed, prompting me to re-evaluate what 'lights my inner fire' since a turbulent couple of months had me dazed and confused. I've lost my way, my sense of purpose, and I'll be the first to own that BLEAK reality. Luckily the Universe was about to present me with a great 'opportunity' to take stock and re-assess who I am, who I was and who I want to become... with the added bonus of confronting a new 'secret' identity. 😅🐇👀

As I snaked my way to the gym on the other side of town I drove past what was unmistakably an inert body laying on the sidewalk, sprawled somewhat into the road. Instead of immediately stopping to investigate, I kept driving and listened to the torrent of thoughts running through my head at break-neck speed:

• Keep driving... What if they're dead? I don't need that trauma!
• I'm sure they'll be fine... It's not that chilly... Someone else will stop.
• OMG, turn around, help them!
• Leave them to it, I can't know what state they're in or what's led them there... it's none of my business.
• What if I do help and they come-to and attack me? What if they have a weapon?
• I don't know how long it'll take if I do try and help, what if I miss my cardio time?
• Are you F*$#ING SERIOUS?! TURN AROUND AND GO HELP... AT LEAST TRY!!

I felt an extremely unpleasant mixture of thoughts, some spoken from my self-serving Asshole of a tiny human ego, interested solely in preserving myself and my own agenda... A shadow-laden voice who doubted my own inner ability to cope with whatever trauma the situation might hurl my way, and also mistrusted the unpredictable inert body that lay on the ground. Countered by my higher Self, the one developed through continual shifts in my awareness and healing work, who screamed at me, begging me to care for this poor Soul in their time of need to make sure they weren't alone and abandoned. What if it was me who needed help, for a random stranger to care for me? How many other cars had already driven past, turned a blind eye? Was I really going to ignore what I'd seen and selfishly drive on, suppress my conscious?

No, not anymore. A younger version of myself would have kept driving... has done it before I'm ashamed to admit; greedily refusing to spend my time and energy on another person. I simply am not, and can no longer be, that person anymore... So I turned around. I pulled up, knelt next to the beautiful young woman who'd obviously had a big night, still clutching her vape. It was clear she was breathing and there was nothing concerning about its rate or rhythm so I relaxed and gently tried to rouse her. When these attempts failed however, I called 111 and hailed another passing car in case I needed extra help. Luckily they didn't have the moral struggle that I had since they stopped immediately. 😂💩🤦

While talking to the 111 operator and performing the checks and preventative positioning required to keep her safe, she woke. Understandably disoriented, I did my best to keep her calm and explain how I'd found her. When I explained the ambulance was on their way as a precaution she became agitated and anxious stating she could not afford the $150 fee, she also expressed embarrassment. I felt for her and insisted on paying the fee myself to try and calm her, then chuckled as I said 'Honey, we've all done shit like this at your age... and I admire your ability to have a sleep on pavement instead of driving,' while simultaneously visualising Summer Version 1.0 either driving blind-drunk and cackling through the streets of Denver, or wandering a curvy path home for miles determinedly treking my happy-ass home after failing to tell my friends I'd left the bar... I was rather infamous for both. 🤷😅

The ambulance officers quickly understood that she was ok and said she'd only be charged a fee if they took her home, so I asked her if she was comfortable with getting a ride home with me instead. She gratefully agreed and I carefully helped her into my car... Suddenly that little prick of a voice returned in my ear:

• Sure, she seems ok now, but what if she spazes out suddenly?!
• Is she being honest about where she lives? What if it's a trap!
• She might grab the wheel, threaten me, steal the car and/or hurt me...
  

I'll be damned if our heads aren't full of survival/threat-saturated BULLSHIT🐮... I get it, that selfish voice is trying to protect me, keep me alive and out of danger... but I'm not listening. This experience has helped me re-align my moral compass and who I funadmentally am now, closer to (but not yet) the person I want to become. Despite the risk, I will trust others and do what I can to serve them. To do that a sense of security and safety must live and thrive inside me. My moral compass will go skew-whiff otherwise, as it has done for the last couple of months... Survival mode took hold of me without me realising it. 👈😳

We spoke of many things on our way to her house, but the prevailing sentiment I'll treasure is knowing that the only thing that matters, now and always, in New Zealand and all across the World, is that we look after each other; care for one another. I felt no judgment towards her, did not wonder what decisions led her to that concrete bed, I was simply relieved that she was alive and could continue sharing her light with loved ones and grow into a healthy adult made wiser from lifes' experiences. She hesitated before getting out of the car, leaned over to hug me, and my heart filled with joy and gratitude. 

I've always assumed that I was too honest to be a kind person... perhaps I'm wrong, here is an opportunity for me to observe and disqualify that limiting belief. I listened to the right voice, I cared for her and preserving her life more than I worried for my own. What's more, I didn't know it was a sweet young woman on the pavement; I would have helped anyone, no matter what state they were in because that's who I want to be dammit. I thanked the Universe for this fateful reconnection with what drives me and 'lights my inner flame'... serving and empowering others. 💞🔥

This was a reminder that I can not do that unless I challenge my innate narcissistic demons and PAUSE long enough to realise the glorious IRONY at play; this life may seem superficially 'about me,' but its actually overwhelmingly, laughably, NOT ABOUT ME. My impact on this earth will be through others, and my ability to motivate them to reach their full potential via their own moral compass (instead of getting bogged down in the rat-race groundhog day of threat-based reactivity). I love, beyond reason, the weird and wonderful humans of this Earth (myself included 😂). My passion lies in expanding awareness of my own thoughts, feelings and bevhaviours so that I can role model and influence others in a meaningful empathy-based way, show them what hidden gems may be uncovered when we break free of our self-defeating cycles and know ourselves on deeper and deeper levels. Our greatest and most powerful choice perhaps, lies in deciding which inner voice to act upon. 💖🙏🐇

Right... there's my typical soap-box conclusion out of the way... 😂😅👌

Now for my secret, one my heart buried so deep it eluded me for fifteen blissfully-ignorant months. I suspect what happened with this girl unsurfaced a false assumption I've been making about someone else... my husband, actually... that it's 'easy' to do the right thing, and any resentments and/or disgust I held against him for doing otherwise was a just choice. Now, I know it's simply not that simple... We are both 'Good People,' shadows and all. 😔🤦

Without all the gory details... I am now a widow. Though my husband and I separated over a year ago, we were still married and I was contacted as his next of kin. It's been a hair-raising emotional rollercoaster, but here's where I've unexpectedly landed... I FEEL more like a widow than an ex-wife, and it's taken copious amounts of vulnerability-based strength to admit this to myself, and now to everyone willing to read these words. Grappling with the fear of expressing this intimate insight of widow-dom, of potentially owning a powerful and terrifying truth that I could never expect anyone else to understand, least of all because I hardly understand it myself. Still worse, being a widow runs the danger of evoking something I loathe more than anything else... sympathy. I am no victim, there is no 'real' blame, I left for the right reasons, guilt be damned, but though I physically and mentally left my marriage... my heart stayed behind, stayed loyal to him, and always would have; I never once over that period felt an authentic intention to move on or pursue another romantic relationship. 💔💩

What I might have never realised without his sudden death was the painful fact that my heart intended to return one day after he'd had time to fully consider his fallible actions... Oh how the Heart doth deceive. Only now do I miss him more than I can bare to face, feeling hopeless to ever again find someone so loving, encouraging and accepting, regardless of his complicated and objectively deviant history. I'm sad, frightened, and only now has the loneliness caught up with me... Who the hell will love me now, riddled with 'eccentricities' as I am (difficult as it is to label them as mental illness(es)... whoever came up with that term should be tarred and feathered 😕😡🐔)?! 

But the Universe saw fit to help me move on and grieve in only the way the Universe can, by completely removing the 'go-back' option... and on the whole, I am grateful. Gratitude is my one empowering option. Sometimes we need that wake-up call (literally and figuratively 😅📞), forced yet loving 'assistance' with stepping onto the next lesson and given a chance for closure from the one that came before. Along this adventure, I've accepted that I am here to humbly serve and genuinely trust the Universe as best as my current state of evolution allows. I endeavour to find peace in the sobering realisation that I can not always understand 'The Why.' 🙏🐇

In honour of my late husband, biggest supporter and best friend. Thank you for four of the best years of my life, filled with laughter, joy, surprises and growth. Thank you for reminding me that We (meaning all humans) are neither monsters nor saints (whether by self-identification or the perception of others, in either case!👿😵😇💫)... Humans are best served by authentic curiousity, compassion and understanding, instead of implacable judgment.

Original Publication Date 28 April 2024

Whim of the Week... Still a 'Good Person'

Events at play in my personal life have put my 2012 definition of a 'Good Person' back in my face to confront those thoughts in a decidedly BLEAK  way... and I must admit it's enough to test even my persistence of positivity... 😅🐇🕳🤔

Though still aligned to the definition, some people tragically lose the internal battle between their light and their shadow, so 'what they've got' appears to be sweet f*&#-all. 🤷‍♀️😳 And when that person is or has been very close to us, the sadness we feel is enough to sink us... watching them self destruct an indescribable pain. Their light, their potential, first dims, then finally flickers out. 😢

Such a harsh truth... some people either lack the mental capacity, emotional fortitude and/or Spiritual will to heal. They succumb to their shadow and become the ultimate A-sshole. They are no longer safe, neither to themselves nor others. 💔

Aside from who I have in mind at present, my sister was also one such person; which is why I maintain that these people - though lost in shadow - are still inherently good people... I don't know what will happen to this particular unfortunate soul, but I know what happened to Amanda and I can only hope that the lesson can be learnt and the inner light found in another lifetime.🌈🙏

For me, here's the silver lining: Learn from these Good People in Disguise, the ones who cannot or will not escape their darkness... move towards the light, BE THE LIGHT. 💖💞

Avoid blame, take ownership, engage in consistent and deliberate self reflection, challenge judgments and assumptions. Find the light of compassion, of empathy, of authentic self awareness, and use that light to create healthy boundaries with our shadows so they have their proper place within us rather than taking total control. BALANCED & WHOLE.

We all need to be able to downshift into the shadowy asshole space every now and then, set healthy boundaries to protect our values and our worth; but damn that internal boundary needs to be laid first! 👀👈

How we use / abuse our light and dark may just be the most crucial choice we make in this life. 🐇

What makes you a Good Person?

What shadows prevent you from being a Good Person from time to time? How do you know?

How can you engage your shadows in a healthy way? 

Original Publication Date 25 February 2024

Page of Cups

TRIGGER WARNING: This post touches on aspects of my Disordered Eating and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). Please proceed with kindness and compassion for everyone's sake. 

The Page of Cups rarely comes to me in its upright position! Being well versed in the reversed meaning... deep underlying trauma and the need to heal so as to avoid projectile vomiting my own bullshit onto everyone else like a total asshole. I can only suppose that the 'work' I've done over the years has started to bear fruit. In one word, I feel POTENTIAL. The image is one of celebration, heartfelt admiration for the richness that emotions bring to our lives. Indeed, we can be prisoners to them or liberated by them... it's our choice.

To be honest, I needed this card this morning, as I sit with a sated shadow full of chips, chocolates and guilt from last night's binge. I just wanted all the trigger food in this house gone once and for good. A twisted act of deliverance, perhaps... I actually tossed out some of the chips and kept about three chocolates for later, so I did show some restraint... which I choose to be proud of dammit! I also TRUST myself and my body to rebalance... and there's the fact that if I gain a bit of weight, so f*&#ing what?! And just in those sentiments, I see the reinforced importance of choosing to align with the healthier thoughts rather than the dysfunctional thoughts...

For me, this card is about healthy choices, choosing to 1) identify and 2) celebrate the emotions that serve me well instead of dwelling on the negatives, disappointments, fear, worry, etc. It's a choice, and it's a f*&#ing hard one to be sure! But thankfully I've practiced making that choice enough for this card to arrive to me upright, which I certainly take as a win! I could wallow in self pity, beat myself up, be paranoid that fat will suddenly reappear all over my body, succumb to the fear that I'll never find my way out of this wretched eating disorder ... or I could accept I ate that food for a reason and rejoice that it's all gone (even if that reason was fuelled by compulsive thoughts). 

What enables me to focus on the healthier emotional choice of empowerment over punishment is understanding that having OCD that manifests itself as disordered eating doesn't make me less of a person or less worthy of love. It doesn't subtract from who I really am, it's just a characteristic that I have to try and manage from time to time, and continue to heal (and at this point, if I'm taking my own advice, I may - again - need professional help)... Even still, the scar may be permanent and may never go away, and the real test of my compassionate fortitude will be persisting in loving myself regardless, maintain radical self responsibility and esteem. There's also the fact that I'm positively f*&#ing sick of being mean to myself and I simply refuse to beat myself up anymore... 30+ years of data clearly demonstrates that it doesn't work!

The true meaning of this card in its upright position is 'a reminder that we can return to our natural state of innocence, playfulness and openness'... like a child before conditioning takes hold. Can I return to my pre-disordered eating state? Or, dare I ask, a state before neglect repeatedly broke my heart... leading to the slippery slope of self-abuse and mental ailments that abuse created? This card reminds me I've done a f*&# of a lot of excellent work already and I'm well aware of what's still to be done. In the meantime... I'm a good person with a good heart, good intentions, and raw determination... So I know I'll get there if it's what I genuinely desire; I can and will achieve whatever I set myself to, and that just might be the very definition of self-security.

Original Publication Date 04 February 2024

Double-Edged Sword of Determination

One of the whimsical concepts that takes up a considerable amount of glucose metabolism in my brain is the idea that many people have phenomenal amounts of passionate fiery energy, but they apply it to endeavors that serve neither themselves nor others in a truly commendable way. If only people could harness it and deploy it towards a wiser or higher purpose, this world would be a different place entirely!

• At a society level, the cunning greed that perpetuates the burning of fossil fuels would be converted to the invention of battery technology to store natural forms of energy. 
• At work, complaining about everything we hate about our jobs would manifest as proactive collaborative ways of finding solutions to repetitive problems, and re-engagement with how our work makes a meaningful contribution to the World. 
• At home, instead of yelling at each other we'd put the same communicative energy into exploring and defining the emotions sitting at the root of the argument, and invest in reaching a respectful and empathetic understanding. 
  

All humans have energy to invest, and our level of determination decides its impact on our physical World along a spectrum of extremes, like those above. Greed, selfishness and/or enforcement can drive our persistence, or it can be guided by grace and/or pro-social aspirations. As such, determination is a double-edged sword... a staunch mindset that once vested, for most, becomes implacable. We are humans on a mission, our determination generating powerful influence and certain results. Our choice is whether to wield that sword with enlightened service-based intent or egotistical ignorance; compassion or punishment. These are but extreme endpoints of this cautionary scale however, since even altruistic endeavours are rarely wholly selfless nor are anti-social agendas purely nefarious. We live in a world of grey. 😇💫😈

Wondrous warriors turn to destructive dictators if/when we fail to check: 

1) Where our initial intention and mindset lay on the continuum or,

2) Continually track any questionable shifts in mindset along the continuum as we exercise our willpower.

Otherwise the original ambition could get lost in the melee. We end up in a battle we never meant to fight, accumulating scars as we cut ourselves with our own sword of determination... F*&#-ing BLEAK!

Woah, esoteric much? ... So, what was the thought that instigated the genesis of this grand theory?

There is no one more determined than an anorexic.  

I appreciate that's a triggering statement, likely provoking a spiky reaction and a hell of a lot of assumptions and biases. Pause please, abstain from judgment until open-mindedly considering an unconventional perspective... 🙏🐇

This thought popped into my head one morning during a long training run as I reflected on my own innate tenacity of character... expressed as razor-sharp, brute-force, iron-clad determination. My sword is mighty indeed. Hell, I should give it a 'Lord of the Rings' type name... like Conscientia! [Latin for awareness] 😅🤓

I'll start by saying I love this quality in myself, consider it one of my feature superpowers, but for reasons elucidated in the examples below, it inspires 3 parts pride : 5 parts frustration : 2 parts amusement due to its utter ridiculousness (only humourous after an appropriate breathing period, in hindsight 😳🤷). Learning how to effectively manage and balance Conscientia was hard-earned. It took years of trial and error based fencing, I cut myself many times, as demonstarted in the poignant instances that follow, and I still do from time to time (though it's decidedly less!). Each sparring session makes me a more adept swords-woman. I deliberately review pivotal times in my life, critical decisions and desirous goals I've set, and I do my best to learn from what enabled me to win, and what led to cast-worthy cuts.  

Three admonishing narratives that illustrate what it looks like when mindsets shift, and my unwavering will wound up wounding me... 🐇🕳

Edgy Weight Loss

I began to write about the massive journey I undertook at the tender age of 23, one that shaped me literally and figuratively as I went from morbidly obese to gaunt emaciation. In it I explored the underlying emotions that led to my childhood girthiness. If I'm honest, brutally f*&#ing candid, I haven't finished that 3-part epic; I can't, it's too painful... even now... over 16 years later. The cause of this sting is a self-inflicted injury, the one leading to the initial thought which motivated me to create this very article. Controversially perhaps, I think Anorexia demonstrates astounding fortitude of character, requiring arguably supernatural strength; but represents passion grievously misspent. I would not wish it on my worst enemy... Ugh. I'll leave it there and succinctly relay how my mindsets shifted, allowing the readers to fill in the gaps. 🤦🙏😔

  

Wellness Mindset: Don't be another 'fat American' with type II diabetes

Sharpened Mindset: Get to goal weight as quickly as possible

Mindset Scar: Keep the weight off at all costs

Acute Anxiety

I've dealt with chronic, and at times debilitating, anxiety from a very young age. Indeed, processing and healing my anxiety via self-administered Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) inspired many a post of my previous blog. Oh, and there is the critical point subtly embedded in that innocent sentence... self-administered. The few times my anxiety got so bad I landed myself in a hospital, the doctors told me that I needed medication, that my case was severe and I'd need pills for the rest of my life to function as a healthy human being. Well, I decided early on that wasn't for me. I'll admit, I attained an anxiety-free life in the end, but when I reflect on that laborious trek I can't help but think I made things unnecessarily difficult for myself... Not to mention the horrific bias I heaped upon those who did rely on medication. 💊🚫🙈
 

Wellness Mindset: Manage anxiety without becoming a pill-popping zombie (judgy much? 😨), explore the root cause(s) instead of treating the direct cause and symptoms

Sharpened Mindset: It is my fault that I have anxiety, so I must deal with it on my own, I don't deserve help

Mindset Scar: If I don't stick to a strict, time tested and proven, anti-anxiety regime then it'll come back

Pointed Marathon

Because irony is one of the great loves of my life, I decided that to overcome my aforementioned refuelling issues (i.e. disordered, restricted, eating) was to train for a marathon. It actually worked wonderfully. Simply put, if I didn't eat enough to hit my training schedule and run the required amount of kilometers (kms), then I wouldn't hit my goal. And during a particularly memorable training run, I realised that erring on the low side of caloric intake would literally land me in a ditch, inert and shaking until some good samaritan found me and fed me some chocolate. After that, I can safely say I learned to eat and eat well! 🤷🍫

So, what's better than running a marathon? Running multiple marathons! For my second I was dead-keen to achieve a sub-5 hour time... and that's what I did... along with accumulating hip and knee damage that led to near-immobility for months. 🕕💩👏

Wellness Mindset: Prove to myself that I'm strong, capable and resilient enough to reach the pinnacle of fitness while also surmounting disordered eating

Sharpened Mindset: Train relentlessly, push through pain, and ALWAYS run more km's than scheduled to ensure I reach the finish line before 5 hours

Mindset Scar: Keep it up or I'll lose all my fitness, continually get stronger and train harder, eat only if I've earnt it by training in some form or fashion

All wellness-inspired ambitions, seemingly worthy uses of my precious energy. Yet in each disconcerting sparring lesson, I humbly accept that my determined mindsets were either questionable from the start (mainly out of ignorance, not mal-intent/self-sabotage), or slipped from compassion/permission to punishment/enforcement along the sharp slope of the determination spectrum. In all instances, Conscientia had turned against me because I lost sight of true health and thus misused my energy, serving neither me nor anyone else in a beneficial way. On the battlefield of determination, it's dangerously easy to forget why we first picked up the sword. The true intention and purpose can become convoluted, and when it does we're likely to bleed. 🩸🗡

As I age, grow wiser, rewire and heal these dysfunctional mindset scars through self-reflection and brutal honesty about how and when I get in my own way, I've come to know the point at which I'm at risk of cutting myself by this resolve. When to lean-in and fight with valor, and when to sit back and let the battle unfold without my personal contribution. 🙏🙉💖

My solace moving forward is the discovery of a fight genuinely deserving of my superpower and Conscientia's might. If and when I pick up my sword it will be to protect my own or anyone else's sense of Self Worth, preserve the beauty and balance of our Planet, or to defend honesty and unadulterated truth. I will no longer fear the intensity of my tenacious Spirit. I know I can go overboard, have learnt from life-altering lessons. I will TRUST in my new pursuit, appropriately focused on a balanced approach, explicit awareness and trusted intuition; not just for the betterment of myself, but for the whole World, lest I forget that extreme conviction only leads to self-inflicted overwhelm and preventable punctures. I appreciate how utopian that sounds, but f*&# I'm determined...👀😆🙄

Original Publication Date 07 January 2024

Whim of the Week… Ridiculous Reactivity

I love how one random moment on a row machine can make me pause and reflect on...

• Who I am based on how I act
• Who I am based on who I think I am
• Who I am based on how others perceive me
• Who I am based on my aspirational potential

All different, yet all true (whether I like it or not). 🐇😅😳🐇

Typical morning, rowing away to my heart's content, when a song comes on Spotify that I don't quite care for so I attempt to issue a 'Next Song' command to Siri (whom I lovingly refer to as 'Senior Navigator'). Though my nondescript masculine Aussie-voiced Siri usually responds efficiently to a ‘Hey Siri’ prompt, eagerly awaiting to answer my will, on this particular occasion Sr. Navigator must have misunderstood me. Instead of skipping to the next song as anticipated, it proceeded to ask if I wanted to call someone in my contacts and I got immediately flustered, afraid it would ring the person while I was breathlessly pulling my way to 10km at an hour that only exists to bats and die-hard gym fanatics. In my haste, the prickle-pants came on and I exclaimed, loudly and articulately so Sr. Navigator would be sure to hear me properly...  "No Sr. Navigator! Naughty!" 😂👈🖕

Being extremely well practiced in introspection, in a flash I appeared outside of myself, watching my behaviour from a loftier perspective (thanks Eckhart Tolle ), and I immediately began to cackle. What a phenomenally reactive asshole I am, how ridiculous I must have appeared to my community of fellow cardio addicts. 😆💩👀

I wasn't in a pissy mood and hadn't woken up on the wrong side of the bed, nevertheless this AI driven assistant failing to understand my instruction was enough to trigger me. Why? Pick an issue, any issue... Lack of perceived respect, failure to control the situation as I wanted to, fear of calling some rando contact at 4:00am by mistake, disappointment, need for instant gratification, to feel powerful... Nevermind that I'm talking about my response to a f*&#ing robot on my phone! This is how easily humans create our own chaos... misperceiving threats left, right and center, reacting in various preposterous and emotionally unintelligent ways for all the world to see and justifiably laugh at, which we also view as a threat. Thus the vicious cycle persists until we learn to STOP and objectively observe ourselves. 😵🤷

Do I think of myself as a defensive person? No... but did I react defensively? Yes, yes I did. And this, my fine fluffles, is what continually reminds me to ABSTAIN FROM JUDGING OTHERS. Humans are hardwired to react. Whether the danger, hazard or risk is factual or fabricated makes absolutely no difference. No one is exempt, I write about this shit CONSTANTLY and it's gloriously embarrassing to witness myself behaving this way; but shit, I'm only human. I can't know what those around me thought about my belligerent outburst but whatever it was, from the damning 'What a nutter!' to the empathetic 'Been there!,' and anything else along that spectrum, is fair. 

The whimsical point of this situation is that Sr. Navigator was only trying to help! Someone unwilling to own this level of self-awareness and humbling honesty would likely just blame their phone for their odd behaviour... and that may be innocuous in this circumstance... yet I can't help but contemplate the weightier implications of such a mindset in other situations. Situations where accountability is vital for healthy internal and external relationships, and sense of Self. 🤔🐇🕳 

When do you most need to pause, reflect, and consider outside perspectives before reacting?

Have you ever practiced non-judgmentally observing your behaviours, and assessing whether they are serving your life in beneficial ways?

Are there gaps between who you think you are, who others think you are, and how you want to be? 

Original Publication Date 06 January 2024

A Little Prick

Growing up I had a pet hedgehog aptly named Sonic. Sonic pricked up and was afraid constantly at first but with repeated attempts he grew used to my scent and his new surroundings, perceiving prickle-worthy threats less and less often as he began to feel safe. My spiny mammalian friend came to trust me, eventually I could pick him up, pet him, tickle his belly, and even bathe him. Hell, it got to the point where I'd chuck him in my hoodie's pouch and take him on outdoor adventures! True to his nature however, if someone new came around or he was triggered by fearful uncertainty, he'd roll up and prickle; throwing up spikes of self protection and defense, hoping like hell everything external to him would be put off by his thorny coating and leave him the f*&# alone... Now, many years and many life experiences later, I observe the same behaviours manifest in many human social interactions... 🐇🦔🐇🦔🐇

It's so easy to misperceive someone as 'a Prick,' when really they're just 'acting prickly.' The former being a judgment-laden identity assigned to their persona, and the latter being a just characteristic tailor-made by evolution and survival of the fittest. They don't feel safe for some reason so their guard is up. The danger at the heart of this misperception is that, especially when this is our first impression of someone, it becomes an idea that we shroud in confirmation bias which then creates an entrenched implacable belief.  That person is now a Prick in our minds forever-more... 👋🖕💩

But damn, who among us hasn't been guilty of prickliness? Had a rotten day and wasn't our normal happy-chappy selves? Felt a bit more stressed/less resilient, so our inner asshole was a tad closer to the surface than is typical? Been in a situation where emotions were running high, so hunkered down and hid as best we could to avoid getting caught in the turbulence? Had life experiences or innate forms of predisposition that put us on-edge when we first meet someone new, or when we're in a new/uncomfortable environment (i.e. various forms of anxiety disorders)? Or maybe, just maybe, we're carrying around unhealed trauma so we're not just pricks, we're spiked shitheads, and none the wiser to our underlying issues. 

No matter the reason, getting our prickle-on is critical for maintaining our sense of psychological and physical safety. It also permits the establishment of healthy boundaries so undeserving people can't take advantage of us. Humans, like hedgehogs, adjust our levels of spikiness based on our mental and physical atmospheres, and whether or not we feel we can be ourselves, sans filter, without fear of judgment and/or negative repercussion (which of course can be either real or perceived, but guides our behaviours regardless). 🤔🐇🕳

Essentially, this distills down to how much TRUST we have in any given setting, and the people within that scene. Its the complex calculation of David Maister's Trust equation, and comprises the Intimacy element in particular. For many this can be the critical tipping point where trust is either galvanized or eroded; the difference between forming/sustaining a relationship or putting/keeping our guard up, thus being labelled as a stand-offish prick.

FEAR = MISTRUST = PROTECT SELF = PRICK 

Versus 

SAFE = TRUST = BE SELF = RELAX 

I know which state I prefer when I'm able to empower myself and consciously choose, yet since humans are hardwired for threat most of us fail to pause long enough to engage our frontal lobes and consider the choice to be made. And admittedly, when I'm in reactive/lizard brain mode, I'll put my prickle-pants on before I even realise a serenity-skirt is an option. 😅🧠🤷

It brings to mind an impactful quote by Stephen R. Covey that lit up a veritable disco ball in my mind, and even drove a considerable bit of rewiring I dare say... 💡🕳🐇💡

Intuitively I knew these eleven black and white words held the massive world of grey that is perception versus reality. It holds the key... the key to disarming ourselves and others, to creating an environment where the spikes aren't necessary. 🔑 

1) GET CURIOUS about other peoples' INTENTIONS and consider why they might portray spikiness. 

We do this for ourselves so fast it escapes our notice, and we automatically accept that we're doing what we're doing for the right reason and with positive intentions, even if the actions could be perceived by others as prickishness. 

2) Don't be a JUDGY ASSHOLE and MAKE ASSUMPTIONS about peoples' perceived prickly behaviours. 

Create space for them to be themselves, and act in a way that suits them best. Accept that it won't likely serve anyone else best, but is no less appropriate for their sense of safety. We don't need to like or agree with their approach, just offer empathy and compassion. 

Summarily, be a decent f*&#ing human and practice the golden rule, it's called GOLD for a reason. 🙏🌟💖

Right, that's the theory, now it's time for a couple of pointed stories to bring it to life. 📚🙏

Keratin Covered Coworker

The original concept for this article came to me over six years ago. I had an exceptionally peculiar coworker when I took a new role in a different team. Being a big believer in points #1 and #2 above, I did my best to remain curious and withhold adverse judgment rather than mirror his thorniness with my own bramble, thus overriding basic human instinct. 😅

No matter how cheerful I was, how genuinely I smiled, how many times I said hello or asked how they were doing... I got nothing. Zilch. Nada. 🦗 Hell, we even went to the same gym so I'd chat them up there as well. Their reaction was always the same, a mixture of startled indifference and confused nonchalance. This puzzled me exceedingly, and having a natural talent for rumination, I contemplated the plethora of weird and wonderful reasons a grown-ass human might arrive at such a disposition. 🤔

Now, I should mention, this person had a well known reputation for being a bit of a prick due to this characteristic antisocial behaviour, but f*&# do I love a challenge so I persevered in my determination to eventually break through the spiky exterior and coax this hedgehog into relaxation. Importantly, I never forced anything upon them, I simply remained extremely consistent in my conduct around them; non-confrontationally amicable. 😇

I don't remember exactly how long it took (definitely more than a month), but I damn-well recall the first time they replied to my 'Good Morning' with an extremely timid "Hi." I was chuffed! 🙌🎉 It had finally happened! Slowly, steadily, our interactions grew from single words to full sentences; and the day I made them laugh I nearly had a stroke. I couldn't know it then, but what my constancy did was demonstrate safety to my spiny coworker. We never became friends per se, but they still say hi to me to this day though I'm in a different area of our business and no longer around that particular site anymore, and I'll alway appreciate the radical perspective this person provided me... Allowing me to practice what I preach (again, see points #1 and #2 above), test my newfound esoteric theories (because, before I shifted, judgment-laden prickle-pants was my go-to f*&#ing uniform), and cultivate the ability to create space for people to simply be who they are without question or explanation (which required me to disassociate his demeanor toward me from anything about me as a person; i.e. I didn't take it personally). 👈👀🙋👏

Stress-Spike Induced Speechlessness

After my separation, I did what any frightened animal would do and hightailed it to safety. A calm and familiar environment where I could recede into myself, lick my wounds, and grieve under the watchful yet un-prying eyes of trusted friends; not just friends, my adopted family. 💔👎 

This patchy time in my life taught me that stress-induced migraines with accompanying speechlessness are a thing; who knew? As one can imagine, the first time it happened was terrifying, particularly for someone with an infamous 'gift of the gab.'  I could form and link the words in my head, but when I tried to speak they either wouldn't come out at all or issued out as a mass of garbled rubbish, or a string of incoherent nonsense. Terrifying! 😨😵

The initial episode happened in the presence of my aforementioned loved ones, and once I had recovered and recounted how I'd felt to them, one of them responded with an off-hand comment that knocked me completely a-back... 'Sounds like what I experience any time someone says anything to me, or I'm expected to speak in a group.' [paraphrased] 😲

Despite being one of my dearest friends for over eight years, despite all prior knowledge and adoration of their innately modest nature, this throw-away comment floored me; I never truly understood how difficult it was for them to talk. A very humbling epiphany came to me... all my life I've disdainfully judged people who 'needed an invitation' to conversations. F*&# did it frustrate me, like grow a pair, OPEN YOUR MOUTH, BE HEARD, IT'S NOT THAT HARD... Or so I assumed... very wrongly. 'Stuff them if they are too insecure to speak up, why should I cater to them?!'  Yes, embarrassingly, that's how I used to think, feel and act.  🤦😳🐇🕳

My friend's admission, because I was someone they trusted and felt comfortable to share such a vulnerability with, helped me realise I was using my 'gift of the gab' to poor effect. A gift I was obviously taking for granted... I feel safe and competent in nearly all social situations. I confrontingly deduced this talent elusively feeds my sense of egoic power; a skill I've abused at the expense of the people who aren't relaxed in that habitat and can't overcome the barriers required for them to speak up so easily... which is also likely why I'm not threatened when others have their backs-up. 🦔💡

I'm so grateful my friend shared this insight with me, it's allowed me to reevaluate that subconscious dysfunctional belief and ameliorate my tiny human ego (whose agenda seems to go a bit askew😅). I now see that I'm best to shut my trap, create the time and space needed for others to speak up on their own terms; or even better, use my voice to ask for their insights and empower them, establishing an atmosphere of inclusion. When I'm a prick others will react in kind, that's the darker side of human nature. So I've adjusted my focus towards applying heartfelt compassion, considering the psychological safety requirements of others so that they can relax, put away their spikes.

I don't know why it's strenuous for some to trust people and/or unprickle, but I don't need to... My culpability lies in creating and maintaining an environment where they can be themselves, spikes and all. To let them know that I'm not afraid of them, and they don't need to fear me... no judgment, no assumptions... just acceptance. 🙏💖

Original Publication Date 30 December 2023

Volcanic Guilt

TRIGGER WARNING: This post touches on aspects of my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and Disordered Eating within the context of my marriage's demise. 😳

It is deeply vulnerable, brutally honest, contains a lot of unedited F-bombs and may be a bit F*&#-ing BLEAK on the whole (akin to listening to "I Know It's Over" by The Smiths 😅😭). I wrote this to sate my own need for healing as a way to express and process my grief. My intention is to openly share a very apt example of how profound emotional issues can lay submerged in our subconscious for prolonged periods of time, how they might present as elusive self-sabotaging behaviours, and to contemplate what the hell to do with them when they finally come bubbling up to the surface. 

I'm struggling and no mistake. I'd have to guess, based on last night's nightmare, that he took the booze and sowed that lie exactly one year ago and something deep within my psyche remembers even though the exact date was never verified. The nightmare helped awaken me to the fact that I feel he proverbially 'Spat in my face,' just completely rejected me... his act was an act of purposefully malicious sabotage of our marriage. He may as well have ripped up our marriage license, vows, pictures... everything... right in front of me and said "You're a psycho that I don't want to be with anymore." In committing that act he abandoned me, left me no choice, gave me no control, no options to better myself to save our marriage... 💡🐇💣

Fucking hell, that just made me realise how badly I blame myself for our marriage ending. 😱😵😭

And isn't that a fucking classic example of victim-blaming and my proclivity for refusing to see myself as a victim... I can't allow myself to be the victim. Instead, I make myself the villain, the control freak, the monster, the person no one in their right mind would want to be with... and by-so-doing, I punish myself, I sabotage, I undermine my basic values and literally de-value myself, obliterating my self esteem. Quite frankly, I intentionally scare the shit out of myself, I've been doing it for about a week now... How? One of my biggest triggers... fucking food... literally eating anything I can get my friggin' hands on and invoking the intense fear of weight gain. 😣💥🍪🎂🤢 

The majority of people would say "But some indulgence, especially during the holidays, is normal! What's the big deal Summer? Relax, it'll be fine." Yet only those with disordered binge eating who have fought this particularly horrendous mental illness can understand how truly dangerous it is. These behaviours harm my mind as much as my body, likely more-so given they fuel the very vicious cycle of imbalance, like a gently undulating sea turned into a torrent of turbulent swells. 🌊

Fuck, I DON'T DESERVE ANY OF THIS! So what the fuck do I do?! Is it as simple as becoming aware of these underlying false beliefs and calling BULLSHIT again and again until I believe the true version of the situation instead of my distorted and self-deprecating version? How do I stop blaming myself for the fact that someone... No, not just someone, the person I loved most in this world, who I made personal and material sacrifices for, who I stood beside when no one else would, who I gave a BIG second chance to when he'd betrayed me the first time with a relationship-shattering lie (well, more of a withheld truth / lie by omission)... crossed the line I had so very very clearly drawn in the sand. Metaphorically by committing this act, he looked me straight in the face and walked right over it. At that point I had to let go for my own good... and perhaps for his as well... I can't know, I don't have visibility to him anymore. 🤷🤔

No control, just a void where the wedding vow of "I Will" once occupied... I fucking hate lying... and now I'm a liar because one year ago I had to face the situation in front of me and say "I Won't," like the bleakest Meatloaf Song. The worst part is I can't even be pissed... I'm too sad, too devastated (even a year later) to be truly angry... Too shocked that he'd throw away an otherwise beautiful marriage, all for a lie... A lie he told to hide from his own shadows. 🙈🙉🙊

I've not been able to find these words until right now, this very moment, and I'm grateful for them... grateful for the sadness... my heart has been holding onto this for a long time and that's a heavy burden to bear. This heartache grew to a crescendo until it drove an insatiable hunger, a way for my Body to awaken my conscious mind to the latent grief that required attention. No, I am not wholly the victim in this situation and I won't pretend to be... I wasn't a perfect wife. I have OCD and other quirks that I can imagine being difficult to deal with day-in and day-out as a partner... but isn't that marriage?! To love someone despite their flaws? Fuck, maybe - potentially - even loving them because of their flaws?! That's what I tried to do for him... but we both failed I guess. Neither of us could accept each other's worst shadows when it came down to brass tacks... so fair enough. 👋

All I can say is that I'm proud of myself for being constantly, bluntly, vulnerably, transparent and utterly HONEST about my shadows. I KNOW them, OWN them, and educate my loved ones about them... They are me and I am them. Whole. I asked for help, support and encouragement when I could feel my shadows grow stronger if/when life stressors got too great to manage with my normal resilience habits. I never hid the monsters inside me, because over the last 10 years I've paused, reflected, dug deep, delved into my iceberg and explored myself. It was a hard and sometimes terrifying adventure, but eventually I taught myself how to love them, embrace them, view them as a superpower. For me, this was an essential part of healing and it's fucking gruelling work... so some people lie instead of taking accountability of their own demons... and people who can't be honest with themselves sure as shit can't be honest with others. 💩👀

I made it clear I couldn't be with that kind of person, someone without the courage to confront their own shadows. For the simple cost of open honesty, I'd do everything it took to ease the discomfort of that process and provide unfailing support, I'd forgive any slip so long as I knew about it before everyone else... but it was in vain. 

One year ago a choice was made... to lie. Unfortunately I'd suffered as many lies as I'm willing to suffer in this life already, I was tapped out... so I left. I left my home, my cat, my dreams of our future... I left and I've never looked back. After all that I'll be fucked if I'll continue to lie to myself! An unhealthy lie that my shadows ended our marriage... that I'm wholly to blame. Finally, A LIE I CAN CONTROL. So I will. 👌🖕😅

There's so much to be grateful for... I'm grateful for a timely heartfelt insight, so I can calm this self-inflicted subconscious internal anguish I've been unjustly enduring. 

Regardless, from the actual day, I've been thankful for these intuitive knowings: 💯

• I was happy in my marriage right up to the second I decided to leave
• I have ZERO REGRETS, it was worth the risk
• The pain of our separation enabled me to learn self-care on a whole new level; I dialled that shit up to expert-level 😂🏆
• I was happy in my singledom the second I decided to leave... thoroughly at peace with my discernment of the situation and it's long-term implications

Unconditional love is extraordinarily rare in this life, and I may not have gotten it from my marriage but I'll damn sure love myself that way because it's what I fucking DESERVE. It's what we all deserve. 🙏💖

Here it comes... the ugly cry 😭💔... and I'll celebrate every tear because fuck I earned this right, this release, to be free of this wretched guilt. I deserve to reclaim my worth and feel secure in myself... shadows and all.

I had my most trusted editor, my Sister, vet this article for me to ensure I wasn't being too overt with the message and that it flowed well... I found her insights rather wise and amusing. 💞😅🌋

I especially appreciate her analogy because it relates back to our Human Iceberg comparison... Whether by fire or ice, failing to expand our awareness and/or ignoring what lies deep within us is a dangerous game to play; we get burnt either way... Our triggers give us significant indications of what snakes lay within ready to strike us or others if we remain oblivious to ourselves. 🐍🐇😳

And on that cheerful note, a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all! 😅🎄😇🎉

Original Publication Date 24 December 2023