We got a new roof. Outwardly, the original looked fine. By all standards, it was doing the job, protected our home, and was adequate. Nonetheless, we knew it was time and pulled the trigger. The crew came and moved quickly, tossing old shingles into a large dumpster. Only up close was I able to recognize that indeed the old shingles were showing wear and tear.
It struck a chord with me; I wonder how often we overlook things because it works? Are we regularly shrugging our shoulders? It’s fine! Or waving things off… no relationship is perfect…work is meant to be a pain… it is what it is…he only gets mean when he is stressed…I only drink after five … But is it OK, really? or have we become hard-wired? Is our viewfinder skewed? I was recently looking through old photos, and it dawned on me that there was a time in my life that I was carrying an extra fifteen to twenty pounds. Yet as I think back, I don’t remember ever thinking that I was heavy. I felt comfortable in my jeans (as one usually does when you buy a big enough size). The point is that my eyes did a number on me; I had clearly adjusted and programmed myself to accept the heavier version of me.
Funny, isn’t? How we see what we want to see. How easily we get clouded and accept skewed versions of ourselves. This new roof feels a lot like my personal journey. I no doubt ran the old version of me to the ground. I wasn’t ‘leaking’ per se; I was functioning. Outwardly, I was doing many things right, but inwardly I was in desperate need of a reboot. It turns out, I, too, had warped shingles to replace.
Replacing my roof was painful. It required that I look inward and strip deep layers. The more I stripped, the more it led me to difficult roads that I could no longer avoid. I took the roads less traveled. It sucked, but I surfaced a better version of myself. I am feeling refreshed and inspired by my new ‘roof.’ The timing is perfect, as the world begins to open and we remove our masks (yes!) Seeing all the beautiful faces and smiles brings me joy.
In a way, we all did it; we all made it to the other side. I am eager to see how we emerge. I can’t help to ponder, after everything that has transpired…political divide, riots, pandemic, isolation, closures…have we risen to a better version of ourselves? Have we evolved as a people? The optimist in me wants to believe that we all got a new roof. Until…
I meet an old friend for lunch. I hadn’t visited with her in a while. I am genuinely happy to reconnect and come in ‘hot,’ showing off my new roof. It is clear from the onset that we are operating in different frequencies. We talk easily, there is comfort, as we share our ‘being,’ she admits that she is feeling prickly. More than prickly, she is on edge, ready to pounce if necessary. Easy tiger, I joke. I will need more information for the words and anger the come out of her mouth do not reconcile with the person I know her to be.
The more I listen, the more I ‘hear’ what she is saying. She feels judged by the outside world. She perceives the actions of others as disapproval. She wrestles with so-called friendships and the distance that falls upon them. I hear her say that she feels rejected by people she loves and has trusted for years. Ouch, that can’t feel good. I ask her about things that have brought her joy; she confesses that she is struggling to enjoy even the things she once loved.
The more she speaks, the more I understand that she is stuck. I suspect she has been simmering in these negative emotions for a while; it has become her excess weight, she doesn’t see it. The more she feels threatened, the more she digs her heels in. Her words come off as angry. But what I see is pain.
She can easily describe how the outside world makes her feel. But what she doesn’t do is put words to her actions. She never once says – “I have reflected on my actions and can see how I come off as XYZ OR you know what, I can see how my choice of words make people want to distance themselves, OR I suppose I too hold judgment on others who feel different from me. That perhaps my convictions make others feel like I am judging them. I am no different. My actions, my anger is perceived to others as hurtful. Perhaps, I am also part of the problem; part of the alienation I am feeling is on me.”
So, after all these months, my beautiful friend has emerged as a cactus. Rigid, prickly, uptight…there goes my optimism.
Herein lies the disconnect.…she is not a cactus…. she’s a freakin flower that blooms all year. She is bold and colorful. I know looks don’t matter, but she’s gorgeous, the type that gets better with age. She is funny and laughs, like big giant fun laughs. And even though she lives a life of privilege, she is as real as they get and not the least impressed by ‘fancy.’ I especially love her as a mom. She sees her kids for exactly who they are and lets them just be. She is also loyal, kind, and generous. I remember practicing yoga next to her many moons ago, being in complete awe of her. She transitioned through the poses like a dancer, fluid, long, lean lines, her body bending at her will…I remember thinking, well holy crap, this gal has no internal blocks- her energy just flows. As I struggled to get in the most elementary poses, she looked over to me and said, when all else fails, remember your breath, that is your center; everything else will eventually follow.
But not today; today, I sense she has a lot of blockages. I want to desperately sweep in, remind her that she is not a cactus. I want to tell her that she fell for the trap, the one that wants us to choose. Society is working overtime to divide us. I want to remind her that it’s not like that; it’s not them vs. us. Remind her that she can hold on to her convictions without being angry. I want to tell her to drop her armor, that standing around, pricking those around her is not the answer. I want to remind her that she will never be in flow if she holds on to emotions holding her hostage. Somewhere along the path, she gave away her power and gave outside factors permission to steal her joy. I want to plea with her, take your power back, find your breath, my friend, get centered; the rest will eventually follow.
I bite my tongue; she’s not ready to hear it. I can’t force it upon her. And I have worked too hard to get on this happy train and am no longer willing to sacrifice my happiness for others. This means I can’t get off my train, I can make stops, but I cannot get off at a hostile town. The good news is that my happy train makes many stops and is in a constant loop. All are welcome to hop in at any time; you just must be prepared to do a bit of work to get to a place where joy is the guiding light, not misery.
I empathize with my friends’ journey, yes, I removed my mask and emerged joyously, but I did not get here in a straight line. I say this a lot, but it’s worth repeating; I got to the point that I got sick of being me which led me to make a conscious decision to stop reacting to situations, people and my environment.
I realized arguing or having my convictions heard is useless. It’s like trying to control a two-year-old in the middle of a tantrum. You can’t. I had to stop making my opinions ‘right’ and realize that we are all operating out of fear. Once I understood this, well, you know what I think about fear… F*ck fear, I won’t let it destroy me. Instead, I learned to take big breaths, the type my friend showed me how to do. I fill and expand my belly with good stuff and exhale all the nonsense. I want to be an uplifter. The best way I know how to do this is to shine my light.
I am keeping my friend close to my heart. I hope she finds inner peace. She is worthy and deserving of joy. She is a beautiful soul and is meant to be a light.
Be a light,
Mic
