Applying more logic to the collapse equation -- if things have to be wrong for me to not like them, then clearly I believe I have to like everything. Dang-it! It's so true. Just like Betsyyyy said in her comment on the previous entry "Wrong!"
Funny how you can know you think something, but not really know you think it until you see it from another perspective.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Wrong 2
This morning I realized that not only do I not like everything that is "wrong," (of course, how could I?) but it goes the other way, too. Everything I don't like is just plain "wrong."
Here's the equation for the collapsed concepts: not liking = wrong. Interesting how completely true this is for me.
I've got to do a YouTube segment on this.
[Look at that! Mixed fonts. That's just plain wrong!]
Here's the equation for the collapsed concepts: not liking = wrong. Interesting how completely true this is for me.
I've got to do a YouTube segment on this.
[Look at that! Mixed fonts. That's just plain wrong!]
Monday, April 13, 2009
Wrong!
I'm working on a new breakthrough around the concept "wrong." So far I've been able to see how it works in relationship to my childhood inability to say what I don't like. If I make something wrong, then I'm justified in not liking it. Ta-Da! That's as far as I've gotten, but I can see it's the core of judgment in my life.
Perhaps it will stir some thoughts in you that you could share, though I have to tell you, this one has been no fun. Everything is showing up "wrong" right now and guess what, "I don't like it!"
Perhaps it will stir some thoughts in you that you could share, though I have to tell you, this one has been no fun. Everything is showing up "wrong" right now and guess what, "I don't like it!"
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Normalizing and Amazing-ing
My new video posted on YouTube talks about how we can make normal things go from gray to amazing. Sorry Ohio--all those years I missed how amazing you really are, but I enjoy you immensely now, every five years when I go back for high school reunions. Especially the trees!
What have you made normal? What have you made amazing?
What have you made normal? What have you made amazing?
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Efficiently Late
In Nov 2008, I was driving to a meeting, leaving at the time I should've been arriving, as usual. I thought about an example from my childhood I'd just written into my book about always being the last one in the car. What was I trying to communicate with this 50-year pattern of behavior?
I'd gotten as far as understanding that I liked to be prepared. Hearing that from my parents instead of the rhetorical question, “What took you so long?” would have helped, but that wasn't the whole thing.
Neither was my more recent awareness that I like to be efficient. Efficiency explained why I use every last minute to do "just one more thing" before I go and moved me in the right direction but didn't break the pattern. I still felt compelled to do one more thing before leaving. What was that about?
In the car it finally hit me. What I was trying to communicate since childhood was, "I have things I have to do first!" Simple as that. Notice the "have to?” That's what kids say when they think what they want doesn't matter.
But now I can see my real communication to the world has always been: "I have things I want to do first." There it is – breaking through my subconscious after years and years of denial. How better to express that what I want matters than to have it come up as a “have to” just at the time when I’m supposed to leave? It can't be missed when people are waiting.
I hated that, too, by the way. My first thought was always, “Just go on without me.” I never could deal with making people do things they didn't want to do, especially if it was "just" because I wanted something. My deep denial kept me safe from seeing my communication until I was ready to accept that what I want matters.
Now that I get it, I can see it was a brilliant unconscious strategy. When people don't leave or start without you, you get a glimpse that what you want matters. Forward natural movement by tiny increments is better than none at all, but figuring out your communication and SAYing WHAT YOU SEE to yourself works quicker!
I'd gotten as far as understanding that I liked to be prepared. Hearing that from my parents instead of the rhetorical question, “What took you so long?” would have helped, but that wasn't the whole thing.
Neither was my more recent awareness that I like to be efficient. Efficiency explained why I use every last minute to do "just one more thing" before I go and moved me in the right direction but didn't break the pattern. I still felt compelled to do one more thing before leaving. What was that about?
In the car it finally hit me. What I was trying to communicate since childhood was, "I have things I have to do first!" Simple as that. Notice the "have to?” That's what kids say when they think what they want doesn't matter.
But now I can see my real communication to the world has always been: "I have things I want to do first." There it is – breaking through my subconscious after years and years of denial. How better to express that what I want matters than to have it come up as a “have to” just at the time when I’m supposed to leave? It can't be missed when people are waiting.
I hated that, too, by the way. My first thought was always, “Just go on without me.” I never could deal with making people do things they didn't want to do, especially if it was "just" because I wanted something. My deep denial kept me safe from seeing my communication until I was ready to accept that what I want matters.
Now that I get it, I can see it was a brilliant unconscious strategy. When people don't leave or start without you, you get a glimpse that what you want matters. Forward natural movement by tiny increments is better than none at all, but figuring out your communication and SAYing WHAT YOU SEE to yourself works quicker!
You're "only" human
Kids wish they had wings. If birds could wish, first they would wish they could wish, then they would wish for fingers. Interesting that we tend to see our humanity as a limitation, not as a gift.
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