I’ve been reading a ton of books, looking for that perfect mix of prose and clarity that will spark an epiphany. That “ah-ha” moment, as a lovely friend put it. I’m desperate for it. I can see it, that person I want to be where insults bounce off me like feathers and my head is high and my jaw doesn’t clench and my stomach doesn’t hurt. I want to walk around this planet with my heart open and my mind clear. I want to be comfortable. In my clothes. In my skin. In the many roles I’ve adopted. Sometimes I think I’m there, and then something happens. A test. A challenge. A betrayal. And the first thought in my head is negative. This really is a two steps forward, one step back kind of process.
In my search, there’s one mantra that soothes each and every time.
It’s not personal.
This is a direct contradiction to everything I’ve ever known. I’ve always thought everything that happens in my life is my fault. My relationships, my job, my kids, my achievements and my failures: they’ve all happened because of me. I have this fear of abandonment, like the smallest misstep on my behalf will change the way my friends and family feel about me. They will lose their love overnight. Because this has happened, as it has in the lives of many, where someone I trusted has hurt me, ignored me, rejected me or abandoned me. I’ve always thought if I control my behavior, I can control how people feel about me. If I’m perfect, they will always love me.
I’ve never had trouble making friends. I have trouble keeping friends. When I’d meet new people, I’d recount my interactions, looking for signs that could be misconstrued as rude, or stupid, or ugly. I’d hide aspects of my personality to seem more appealing to others. I’d accept behavior that was disrespectful, setting no expectations for the way I wanted to be treated. Then, if there were any changes in the nature of the relationship, I’d go into survival mode. I’d emdlessly explain myself, search for reassurance, fight to return to that place where we were most at ease. But it was no use. They figured out how tedious it is to keep me appeased, so they bailed. And rightfully so. My good friend called it a negative self-fulfilling prophecy.
All my life, I have believed this.
It’s a narcissistic load of shit.
I read the book, The Four Agreements, and when I got to the second agreement “Don’t Take Anything Personally”, I had an “ah-ha” moment. I do this. I take personal importance for everyone’s actions. I think everything they do is about me.
I was completely mortified. Even typing it out now, I’m mortified. I don’t consider myself a selfish person, but this type of behavior is completely self-serving. And because I believed I was being blamed, I would immediately act defensively. I know it made me a very hard person to deal with.
After I got over my mortification, I thought about all my relationships with people I love and admire and how my behavior has marred them. Those friendships might never be resurrected. They might always view me as that needy, insecure person who’s too much work to deal with. I accept this but I also choose to learn from it.
I can’t control the actions of others. I can’t control what they think, how they feel, even how they perceive me. We’re all viewing things from our own, unique spectacles. Some are rose colored, some are shaded. Some are smudged and scratched and broken. Some have been replaced and some need new prescriptions, but the truth is, not one of us sees the world as it truly is. There is no reality because we all have a different perception of the world and our interactions in it. Despite all my attempts at perfection, it doesn’t really fucking matter. People will see what they want to see, based upon opinions and beliefs systems they’ve already created. And those opinions and belief systems have nothing to do with me.
Don Miguel Ruiz calls this being immune to poison in the middle of hell. I call it freedom. No one can hurt me here. I can love openly and it cannot be used against me. I cannot be rejected or abandoned or ignored because these are ways people deal with shit that’s going on in their own heads. I can be disappointed. I can be sad. I can feel regret. But I also know that everything I feel, is because of my own perceptions. And that’s something I can control.
I listen to this chapter constantly. When I’m in the car, when I’m cleaning or writing or trying to fall asleep, I listen to it. I wrote it on numerous note cards and put them everywhere, on my fridge, in my purse, in the cabinet, in my desk at school. I chant it out loud, when I feel my stomach begin to knot and my face is flushed and I’m about to be offended. Every day, whenever I can, I devote my mind to relinquishing that control. After all, it was never mine to begin with.
camoozle 