Some Room of My Own

Yesterday I was back at the psychologist’s, you know, the one I had to stand up to, and speak my piece with the other week. Things went better. Not perfect, but better. And some of what made it better was that there was room for me, for who I am. And, I am sure it comes as no surprise, that it was me that had to make that room. I had to push back when I felt frustrated. I had to give voice to my laser sharp and focused intuition. I had to say what was true for me. Boy was it hard, from that “looking good”, wanting to “do it right”, “don’t want to hurt her feelings” place. And easy, from that it is clear as writing on the wall what I feel and what it is about. The challenge, the issue was translating those thoughts into words in a way that doesn’t sting the receiver. Over the years I have come to believe both that I am too forceful and that I am not forthright enough. Both are true, because over time I have both tried to hold it back, so as to not hurt people, because I got feedback that I was too much or expressed it too awkwardly; and tried to express it, so as not to hurt me. And because I am so careful about it, and so new at trying to find a way to do it, it is messy. It is imperfect. And I am reactive when the other person gets reactive and doesn’t like the messy way I have done it. Here is one of the beautiful things, she heard me (yes, I know that is her job, but she could have not really heard me, and been all “professional” and slippery and super reasonable, trust me, I have seen that before). She made space for me, heard me, validated me. She honoured my intuition and copped to the fact that she had been running an agenda that she didn’t even know about until I recognized it and called it. Oh the wounds she healed in that moment. That unexpected (probably unexpected on both sides) moment.

Other magic that happened is really seeing the silly, sensitive, wounded, playful, lighthearted part of me. Seeing her as the tiny kitten that she is, and realizing that instead of me leading every charge I declare with her as my steed and staff, she, in fact, should be where she belongs, in my heart. And you will notice that a heart is surrounded by a ribcage, and some muscles, and skin, and clothes and has arms to protect it. Not dangling out there, all on its own. If the parts of me (you know, like firecraker and lemon zest and wicked and red hot) that I have been requiring to get sign off and approval from this meek, mild, and cute little kitten, instead were to form the support and protection for my vulnerable, innocence (which, by the way, is where my intuition resides as well). Well, life might be different. Not sure how to make the transition, but fortunately, I don’t have to do that alone.

The day before yesterday (so that would be Tuesday) I met with a woman I am considering hiring as a coach. One of the things I love about her is that she can hold my bigger vision, and she doesn’t get phased or overwhelmed by it (like, say, I do). As we got to chatting out of my mouth popped some fiery clarity. I deeply, deeply believe in authentic self-expression. I so strongly believe in its power to heal and right the world that I made a very bold statement, I said, “I believe it can cure cancer, I believe it can prevent workplace burnout, I believe it can stop child abuse.” Radical thoughts I know, but surely you can see that grain of truth in there. If I am self-expressed, if I feel fulfilled, if I am in alignment with myself – then almost anything is possible. It is when I cramp myself, and try to change myself, or fix myself, or be different than my true nature, that’s when trouble starts. Trouble with a capital T. And it shows up in a whole bunch of different venues. So having a place where I can express myself, even the messy stuff, having a way to learn to support myself to do that same thing out in the world, this will go a long way in my staying healthy, as well as in my role modeling this approach to holistic health. If only this approach were a little bit easier.