i've had some work to do recently. the universe has been sending subtle (ha!) 'signs' to me throughout the past 6 months to a year, and finally it took a big slap in a face to alert me to it.
and this is it: my ego needs to get in check.
(for those worried this is going to become a hippy dippy blog post, strap in, you are smart and intuitive and nailed it. hopefully it'll be a version you can relate to).
i'm not an overly confident person - in fact, you don't need to be for your ego to take over control. my ego was dominating my actions because of my insecurities. a cyclical relationship where insecurity and ego would convene on a nightly basis, and share how they could work together hand in hand to break me down a little further. and, how they could do it in subtle ways, so i may notice, but not enough to stand in their tracks.
ego has been a hard thing for me to grasp - i assumed i didn't have one (or mine was dormant) because of my low self esteem and anxiety. i assume the out of control egos were the ones in the conference rooms i sat in almost daily, yelling at me to shape up, or the ones on the highway cutting me off, or the 'friends' who were sharing win after win after win because that's all they were interested in conversing about.
i was introduced to eckhart tolle recently - someone had shared many times that they thought i would benefit from it. they shared that they had grown greatly, and had moments of great joy as a result of some of the teachings/things they read/discovered. it took me some time - i'm not sure why, but again, sometimes my brain/body needs a good smack across the head with a 2x4 to finally fall into something. i was traveling, and decided to broadcast the power of now over the stereo over a long drive. and while it took some unraveling in my mind, i latched on.
and for me. it was the ego. tolle's explanation of ego sat in front of me like a blinding light - i finally couldn't ignore it.
without expertise, or enlightenment, i can share what i heard, about my ego - it's the thought that criticizes the beautiful woman walking past, because i feel less beautiful when she's around. it's the voice that angers at someone on the phone when i've missed paying a bill, and they're telling me my service has been suspended. it's the feeling of anxiety when walking into a meeting, and the person i'm meeting with doesn't smile, and i think, 'they don't like me - this is going to be terrible'. it's the negativity that drives me to think, overthink, triple think and project negativity into the space i'm in, to 'protect' myself. (tolle).
and - finally - here's where we get to vulnerability.
my ego locks my heart and my soul up. it protects it with a fortress of steel and spikes and barbed wire. it coos and strokes my soul, heart and brain, and says (lies), 'don't worry - i'll take care of you. we'll retreat together, and you'll never be hurt again'. and boy.... that feels nice. and safe. it says, 'let's talk about how hard that woman has to work to be beautiful, so we can feel better about our crooked and slightly yellowed teeth, and never perfect hair. you're better than her'. it says, 'let's be angry at this person, because you made a mistake but you're human, and how DARE they tell us about that mistake. don't admit it - because they'll use it against you - simply spew anger, and no one can ever use your mistakes to tell you you're stupid or wrong'. it says, 'let's criticize this person we're meeting, because they must have missed the memo that says you have to like everyone in the world - and they're also probably bad at their job, so anything they disagree with is probably because they're misinformed. don't worry - we won't let you look stupid or under-educated - your work is all you have to feel confident about!'.
but what that also feels like, is lonely. like solitude and disconnect. it feels like fear presenting itself as toughness. it feels like sadness, presenting as indifference. it feels like insecurity and shame, presenting as confidence and well informed.
it just feels like emptiness.
so when that 2x4 hit me, and i had finished nursing the bruise (and i had finished shushing the ego yelling, 'don't listen! what does this enlightening man know! how can happiness and calm POSSIBLY be better than what we are in this moment together??'), i opened myself. i said, 'i don't know anything. i am perfectly at fault. i need this'.
and the universe delivered.
it sent me a few things, that seemed to connect like puzzle pieces to deliver something i was capable of digesting.
- first, it sent me a yearning to finally listen to tolle. and his teachings. and - in the interest of honouring myself - it gave me the bravery to open up, and be humble. to hear. to read. to listen. to absorb and understand.
- second, it sent me a couple of 'life events' that put me in a place where i was reminded of my ego's control over me - a serious fight with a loved one, a work situation, a distant and crumbling friendship.
- third, it sent me friends who poured me with resources - one of which, fit perfectly into that space where the third puzzle piece needed to go. brene brown's TED talk on vulnerability.
- and fourth (for now), it sent me a yoga class - and more specifically, a pose in a yoga class, and a yoga teacher who communicated clearly what i needed to hear.
as i watched - often from outside - the life events and how they unfolded, i knew that me listening to tolle in the car twice a week wasn't enough. i had no grasp on my ego. i was moving in the right direction, but when a twinge of danger showed itself, i closed up. i threw insults and things back into the faces of those i viewed as opponents (even if they were loved ones). i used people's vulnerabilities against them, and i protected my own with justification of my actions.
so then, in the wake of a shake up, a very dear friend - someone very in tune with where i was in life, and what i was open to receiving (turns out, because i had shared immense vulnerability with them), shared brene brown's talk with me.
you know when you are listening, reading, or watching something that feels like it's reaching through the mouth, book or tv/computer at you with arms outstretched, giving you a gentle (and firm) shake? brown's words shook.
turns out (according to silly things like scientific research - but i mean, can we really trust SCIENCE??), you can't numb the hard feelings (fear, sadness, shame, embarrassment, loss, heartbreak, confusion) without also numbing the other ones. the positive ones. joy, happiness, laughter, gratitude. because of the ego, we want to control these ones too. am i too happy? is my laughing face unflattering? am i supposed to be happy here? did no one else find that joke funnny? you can't selectively numb.
because that's what we do. we numb vulnerability. we don't conquer it - despite what our ego wants us to think. we don't shove it aside and barge through with confidence and power. we shrink from it, meekly, and pretend that our distance from it means we are in control.
the distance means we are - again - alone.
to be clear, here's the thing about vulnerability - it doesn't make you a doormat. it doesn't tell you to put up with disrespect, or abuse, or negativity from others. it tells you to stop interpreting, act from a place independent of others, and move beyond analysis. if someone says, 'i know you like horror movies, but i don't,' stop interpreting that as, 'i think you're silly and unintelligent for liking and watching horror movies - and by the way, since we both don't like them, we may not be a good fit'. but if someone says, 'you're stupid, i will continue this behavior regardless of how it makes you feel,' interpret that as that person saying, 'i am not worth your time'.
so then. i walked into a yoga class. (you can read a more detailed version of events here). and i left that yoga class - tears streaming down my face - and i was bare. exposed and wanted to run to my car so no one could see me, but turns out when you leave a yoga class with 30 other people and there's only 1 door, you're seen. and, then it occurred to me. no one was going to be able to protect me, if they didn't know i was in danger. no one could save me, if they couldn't see me falling. no one could stroke my hair and tell me it would be ok, if my hair looked perfect, and i told them i was ok.
so i shared. OH i shared. and i shared and overshared, and shared to too many people. and i looked my ego in the face, and with my strong pointer finger, said, 'back off. we're not in this together anymore.' and then i shared some more. and i called out my ego to people - i shared where i could see my ego stepping in. and i shared even when my anxiety and fear (aka. my ego) told me that people were sick of hearing about it. sick of hearing from me. that i was a self absorbed and egotistical friend who didn't ask how people were doing. when it told me no one wanted to tell me 'it would be ok' anymore. i just. kept. sharing.
and this amazing thing happened. people had a space to step into. a space in my heart where there were instructions on EXACTLY what to say, to support me. a DIY 'help jamie' class. with teachers and tools, and pictorials and someone singing all the lyrics.
and i settled. and i spend a lot of my day at war with my ego still. but the key is, i know it's there. it sits in the corner, wringing it's hands, trying to save itself. it jumps up when something happens that's difficult, or sad, or frightening, or i feel like a failure. (and btw. those moments happen A LOT in my day. like. hundreds of them. i've had about 38 of them while writing this). and it looks at me with eager eyes, in hopes of getting back together. in hopes that our breakup was simply a break, and we can go back to holding hands, and whispering in the corner. and when i can acknowledge that ego, hear it out, and remind myself of the thing that is my ego, it seems a lot easier to identify, and therefore, let pass without impact.
so. here's where i stand. the difference between 'this happened' and 'this is happening right now'. by including and welcoming the past, i am able to sit down, and address it as exactly that - the past. i don't beat myself up anymore for having it - because, as my counsellor says, i remember that, "I did the best I could, with what I had, in that moment". none of this pushing it away and ignoring it until it rears it's ugly head - i mean, i may be way off base here, but WE'RE NOT SUPERHEROS OF ENLIGHTENED PROPORTIONS. we can't push things away and hope they'll disappear, and the emotions tied into those things will just float away to the sky, never to be heard from again. that's not how emotions and the past and feelings and hurt work. instead, we can love our pasts, and love ourselves for it. love who we were in the moment of a 'bad' decision, or a moment of 'lapse'. the way we would a friend. i want to protect that person - the 'me' of decision past. to remind that 'me' that i did the best i could, with what i had, in that moment. no more. no less. and instead of remorse, i love myself for it. and listen: i'm not perfect. and sometimes that forgiveness and love, is directed towards the 'me' from 5 minutes ago, who judged the bananas out of my past! because this is an unlearning of 32 years. 32 YEARS OF BLAMING MYSELF FOR EVERYTHING. so a little forgiveness for your own self in the judgy moments of today goes a looooooong way. because heck. in that moment, i did what i could.
and last hippy dippy thought of the day, i promise - you can't IMAGINE what this gives space to. when i'm not sitting and repeating my errors over and over in my mind. space for ACTUALLY thinking about the future? and a present that is forgiving and loving and positive? gosh. that would be nice.
and i'll get there. it's a long journey. but i'll get there. and it'll be like one big old multiplicity love fest with all the past jamie's, just lovin' all up on one another like, 'i forgive you,'; 'no, I forgive YOU.' and so on. and so on. just all of the love.
so weird. but so wonderful.
