God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference
I find myself getting all caught up in broken thinking at times; “I got thi”s or "Look how I am growing". Then a sharp dope slap from my higher power or the dead ghost of Donna saying “Not so fast you really aren’t all that important or valued. You need to work harder.”
With a deeply respectful bow to my little prince who can go overboard into the depths of snowflake sensitivity with full on pouty especially when slighted. It appears the little prince may have something more in store other then pouting. A lesson on my reality and staying in my lane.
The following is my full throated response to an imagined and real hurt. I may have imagined more than was there and allowing this imagined slight more energy than necessary. Still it hurts. Yet this exercise, here and now, is doing exactly what my grief wound does. It allows light, knowledge, and understanding in. Woot Woot
Sans details and simply put I was told “I just want to give you some honest feedback.” That’s a fucking dead give away for sit down and listen you’re not all that good. I was told that some of my work, hard work that really felt was off the hook brilliant had flaws. I guess they saw, what I didn’t see or wanted to see, pointed out areas of improvement. Okay, but that honest feedback was not what I needed to fix something. Ask anyone I am a forever a learner, changer, and seeker of growth. This stung.
The delta between what I knew was there. And the honest feed back was there. (Sorry I can’t go into to detail.) Suffice it to say I was my fiercest on point creating a safe moment and taking major pain to major “Thank you I have hope.” So many moving parts and sharp objects going on.
And then there was this ‘honest feedback’. What a god damn delta between honest feedback and my self-assessment. In my mind at least. Even if I dialed back my 'I did great' bullshit a bit and thought okay just average. The delta was totally there. I thought I did great. Someone else found a detail that needed to be pointed out. Todays pout is now why bother?
There is that specter of hubris that chases me with relentless inquiries “Will you dance with me?” I won’t. Not because I’m smarter and more self actualized about all the psycho shit in my head. I just know I’m not worthy of hubris or self-actualized feels that says I am good either in my head or out loud. Yet where did this come from? This entire what I did was great. It looked back at me smiling lip syncing, maybe not so much.
That entire fragile self-worth meets the earnest struggle to show that I'm okay and have purpose and meaning may never be bridged. It's a life long chasm. Donna was a respite to all this. She would ride me and let me know not that I was amazing. She reminded me that we were a team her off the hook amazing and my own brand of amazing made something greater for both of us. Yet in the end, as said in the title, I should remain in my grief lane satisfied that I can help others. That I can find within me to write this and think out loud with grace and not believe my own PR.
Update of sorts: Went on a rant about this to one of my dearest, smartest, loving, kind, and just gets me friend. Who slapped me upside my emotional head to say basically “why do you let one persons opinion derail you essentially. You are real your work is real.”
Right as rain my friend is. Yet I know my growth and best me is when it sits on the edge of self-loathing. My doubt challenges me. Though the longer I am in widowed isolation the greater the hold of why bother it has over me as well as others who I have not given that power. Sigh. Reread the Serenity Prayer.