Tasks Part Deux - the interesting years
Before I get started on tasks again, let me just say that yes, voice in my gut, I am aware that doing tasks and writing about it here is a form of avoidance at the moment. Wasn't there something in the reading this week about being sure to hang out with other artists who do the work, and not so much with those who only want to talk about doing the work or about why they're not doing the work? Which one am I at the moment? I really don't know. I played my piano yesterday. I went outside today. There were a couple of small synchronicities involving horses, which have come up in the AW work a couple of times recently. I plan to read my meaningful Anne Lamott book this afternoon, and possibly cut my hair in some wildly creative fashion. But I am not really here. I am "showing up at the page" in the morning (though even longer after I awake these last two days), but I do not feel accessible to the Creator. (For the record, and in the interest of full disclosure.)
Task 4
Habits. Oy. Three overt rotten ones:
Pulling my hair out strand by strand. I do this automatically when I feel stressed or conflicted. There's a name for the problem and I've had it since I was six, so part of me likes to think I might as well keep doing it since there's no hope. But I don't actually believe that. I'm blessed to have very thick hair genetically speaking, so I don't look at first glance like many of my fellow sufferers/practitioners, although if I saw me in the grocery store I would know why certain areas seem grayer and fuzzier than others. It must be a blessing that the problem is not obvious, but its concealability only makes it more problematic in a way, since it's easier to ignore that way.
This, even though when I do sit down to write a song or to some other creative, soul-intensive project, I spend as much energy on my hair as I do on the work. I space out, I glaze over, I go away. Even as I admit I want to do something creative and I act on the impulse, I create a barrier to my own spirit's expression, a hurdle of indifference and disengagement. So the payoff must be that I do less to feel conflicted about. Remember, I got the message that being smart in any way beyond getting good grades - in any way that actually involves thinking, that is -, or expressing my truth, or applying talent in any interesting manner - which might make someone else feel inferior, obviously - was baaaad. So I do less creative work in order to avoid having to deal with the emotional consequences and the behavioral flare-ups.
I sometimes overeat, but lately I am allowing myself the payoff, which is easy earthly comfort, without much self-critical fuss.
My rottenest overt habit is outright self-harm. I don't want to talk about that anymore except to say that the payoff is staying the same. And that I've actually been easing up on myself lately. I know this program wasn't designed to support recovery from that type of problem, but this is what seems to stand between me and my creative self-expression, and I'm going to apply ADs, tasks and morning pages liberally to whatever wounds I find unhealed.
A subtler rotten habit is not getting dressed in the morning. It keeps me in that "What's the use?" state. In the introduction, Cameron says "What's the use" is fear, and fear means you are secretly in despair. So put your fears on the page. Put anything on the page. That's what I'm doing here, my cybercircle-mates.
I think not getting dressed is related to another subtler bad habit: not going out. I say I want to go out and do things, but when it comes around to it I end up staying in more often than not. If I don't go out, I don't have to deal with other people and their reactions to me. I also miss out on an awful lot of life.
Hmmm. Subtler bad habit number three is multitasking. I half look at catalogues while half watching tv. I jump up from the dinner table to add an item to my shopping list. I eat and surf. If I want to do a thing, why not focus on that one thing? Sometimes it seems my hidden objective most of the time is to avoid giving my full attention to anything.
Phew! Made it through the habits task, more or less in one piece. It doesn't seem so bad now that I've written it out. If you're avoiding this one, I have to say - I recommend it. Ahh.
The friend tasks are befuddling to me, so I should probably do them. At some point. Maybe. Okay... I don't tend to hang out with lots of people. I always have a couple or a few special folks that I'm in touch with, and I tend to stay in touch with "my people," as I think of them, forever - though sometimes years may elapse between connections. In general I tend to prefer special relationships with a few dear ones with whom I meet, say, quarterly, to having buddies to get together with on weekends. My chosen dear ones tend to be supportive. I don't think I've ever been enabled, though I'm aware that I used to enable others many many moons ago. Glad I knocked that shit off early. I know I can't talk with every one about everything, and that's usually okay. I don't know that I feel nurtured by all of them, but that may be because I generally don't let people even try. There's a social circle I'm an honorary member of through my husband and brother, and they are very nice to me, though the girls in that group tell me I'm a bit intense and my presence can be unsettling (which I've heard before), so things get weird occasionally. I often find it's my responsibility to look after others' needs, or at least to avoid their tender spots. Actually, in the tasks for last week, when I made the graph of different aspects of life I felt a little weak in the friends department. I just don't call people all that much. This week, partly because of this befuddling task, I went out and saw some friends at a social singing thing I sometimes do and sometimes avoid, and I made plans for dinner with someone else. Okay, okay - I'll call another. Criminy.
Task 8:
Five people I admire:
The owner/operator of the Tire Warehouse franchise in a nearby town. He always has two inspiring messages on the marquis sign out front, one on each side, and never anything about tire specials or the like. His customer service is impeccable. He seems genuinely happy to meet and talk to everyone who goes into his shop.
A former boss of mine, one of the kindest people I've ever met, and one of the best listeners. Always acted with integrity. Always.
A mother I know with three teenagers, one with cerebral palsy, whose kids adore her, mind her, and let her know where they are and when they'll be home. Her patience with and love and gratitude for the disabled child is boundless and inspiring, yet she manages to set limits and look after herself, too.
My late grandfather, who was always patient, kind, enthusiastic, and engaged with his family.
The guy I saw on tv in a courtroom offering forgiveness to a serial murderer during his turn to "say his piece" as a victim's family member. He said he didn't know how the man could do what he did, but since Jesus forgave, so did he. The murderer, who had apparently remained stony-faced throughout hours of others' emotional statements, began to cry only then.
Five people I secretly admire? That's an odd question. As I think about it, though, I guess I do know what it means. I outwardly admire the pure-hearted Melanie Wilkeses of the world, but I can only be supportive of the fierce Scarlett O'Haras from a bit of a distance. When I get up near them, their ego-strength seems grating and wrong-minded. Yet that kind of strength is absolutely necessary for some of what the world requires. (I can't think of any nonfictional examples.) I guess I also secretly admire figures like Oprah Winfrey and Steven Speilberg. I find their work unsubtle, and I don't prefer that things be spelled out quite so overtly, but they're doing their best to use their power for good. That's cool. I secretly admire truly eccentic people I meet around. They seem so bold, so utterly unconcerned with other people's ideas or impressions. I admire the geeky folks that go to Star Trek conventions and dress up their dogs and children as Klingons for the same reason. I wish I had the courage it would take to go to work in a Federation uniform.
Five dead people I wish I'd met: Jesus, Martin Luther, Martin Luther King, Elizabeth Freeman, Anne Hutchinson. Dead people I'd like to hang out with: Okay, here I see no difference. Same list. Traits to look for in my friends: Lovingkindness, free thinking, independence, peace-mongering, personal responsibility, intelligence, creative problem-solving, and willingness to stand up, to stand out, and to confront ignorance and status quo. While I'm at it, I'll look for ways to unreservedly admire the ego-strength of my friends. These five people all had some big ol'... reserves of spunk (wink) and courage.
It's pretty obvious to me at this point that I also need find a way to be okay with my own ego-strength, and with its less savory but absolutely necessary manifestations. (Lord help me, but I may be a bit more of a Scarlett than a Melanie.) I can subordinate all that stuff to God, if I only listen. It shouldn't be stuffed when it could be used. It needs to be kept available in my tool chest, for the use of the Great Getter-Done-er.
Now I'm thinking of that Marianne Williamson quote, the one that's often attributed to Nelson Mandela. I see it everywhere, but maybe that's because I really need to hear and consider it again and again. I won't assume that you all know it. Here it is, for me and for whoever else it may help, even though I've already posted it elsewhere in this circle:
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
--from "A Return to Love" by Marianne Williamson
Task 4
Habits. Oy. Three overt rotten ones:
Pulling my hair out strand by strand. I do this automatically when I feel stressed or conflicted. There's a name for the problem and I've had it since I was six, so part of me likes to think I might as well keep doing it since there's no hope. But I don't actually believe that. I'm blessed to have very thick hair genetically speaking, so I don't look at first glance like many of my fellow sufferers/practitioners, although if I saw me in the grocery store I would know why certain areas seem grayer and fuzzier than others. It must be a blessing that the problem is not obvious, but its concealability only makes it more problematic in a way, since it's easier to ignore that way.
This, even though when I do sit down to write a song or to some other creative, soul-intensive project, I spend as much energy on my hair as I do on the work. I space out, I glaze over, I go away. Even as I admit I want to do something creative and I act on the impulse, I create a barrier to my own spirit's expression, a hurdle of indifference and disengagement. So the payoff must be that I do less to feel conflicted about. Remember, I got the message that being smart in any way beyond getting good grades - in any way that actually involves thinking, that is -, or expressing my truth, or applying talent in any interesting manner - which might make someone else feel inferior, obviously - was baaaad. So I do less creative work in order to avoid having to deal with the emotional consequences and the behavioral flare-ups.
I sometimes overeat, but lately I am allowing myself the payoff, which is easy earthly comfort, without much self-critical fuss.
My rottenest overt habit is outright self-harm. I don't want to talk about that anymore except to say that the payoff is staying the same. And that I've actually been easing up on myself lately. I know this program wasn't designed to support recovery from that type of problem, but this is what seems to stand between me and my creative self-expression, and I'm going to apply ADs, tasks and morning pages liberally to whatever wounds I find unhealed.
A subtler rotten habit is not getting dressed in the morning. It keeps me in that "What's the use?" state. In the introduction, Cameron says "What's the use" is fear, and fear means you are secretly in despair. So put your fears on the page. Put anything on the page. That's what I'm doing here, my cybercircle-mates.
I think not getting dressed is related to another subtler bad habit: not going out. I say I want to go out and do things, but when it comes around to it I end up staying in more often than not. If I don't go out, I don't have to deal with other people and their reactions to me. I also miss out on an awful lot of life.
Hmmm. Subtler bad habit number three is multitasking. I half look at catalogues while half watching tv. I jump up from the dinner table to add an item to my shopping list. I eat and surf. If I want to do a thing, why not focus on that one thing? Sometimes it seems my hidden objective most of the time is to avoid giving my full attention to anything.
Phew! Made it through the habits task, more or less in one piece. It doesn't seem so bad now that I've written it out. If you're avoiding this one, I have to say - I recommend it. Ahh.
The friend tasks are befuddling to me, so I should probably do them. At some point. Maybe. Okay... I don't tend to hang out with lots of people. I always have a couple or a few special folks that I'm in touch with, and I tend to stay in touch with "my people," as I think of them, forever - though sometimes years may elapse between connections. In general I tend to prefer special relationships with a few dear ones with whom I meet, say, quarterly, to having buddies to get together with on weekends. My chosen dear ones tend to be supportive. I don't think I've ever been enabled, though I'm aware that I used to enable others many many moons ago. Glad I knocked that shit off early. I know I can't talk with every one about everything, and that's usually okay. I don't know that I feel nurtured by all of them, but that may be because I generally don't let people even try. There's a social circle I'm an honorary member of through my husband and brother, and they are very nice to me, though the girls in that group tell me I'm a bit intense and my presence can be unsettling (which I've heard before), so things get weird occasionally. I often find it's my responsibility to look after others' needs, or at least to avoid their tender spots. Actually, in the tasks for last week, when I made the graph of different aspects of life I felt a little weak in the friends department. I just don't call people all that much. This week, partly because of this befuddling task, I went out and saw some friends at a social singing thing I sometimes do and sometimes avoid, and I made plans for dinner with someone else. Okay, okay - I'll call another. Criminy.
Task 8:
Five people I admire:
The owner/operator of the Tire Warehouse franchise in a nearby town. He always has two inspiring messages on the marquis sign out front, one on each side, and never anything about tire specials or the like. His customer service is impeccable. He seems genuinely happy to meet and talk to everyone who goes into his shop.
A former boss of mine, one of the kindest people I've ever met, and one of the best listeners. Always acted with integrity. Always.
A mother I know with three teenagers, one with cerebral palsy, whose kids adore her, mind her, and let her know where they are and when they'll be home. Her patience with and love and gratitude for the disabled child is boundless and inspiring, yet she manages to set limits and look after herself, too.
My late grandfather, who was always patient, kind, enthusiastic, and engaged with his family.
The guy I saw on tv in a courtroom offering forgiveness to a serial murderer during his turn to "say his piece" as a victim's family member. He said he didn't know how the man could do what he did, but since Jesus forgave, so did he. The murderer, who had apparently remained stony-faced throughout hours of others' emotional statements, began to cry only then.
Five people I secretly admire? That's an odd question. As I think about it, though, I guess I do know what it means. I outwardly admire the pure-hearted Melanie Wilkeses of the world, but I can only be supportive of the fierce Scarlett O'Haras from a bit of a distance. When I get up near them, their ego-strength seems grating and wrong-minded. Yet that kind of strength is absolutely necessary for some of what the world requires. (I can't think of any nonfictional examples.) I guess I also secretly admire figures like Oprah Winfrey and Steven Speilberg. I find their work unsubtle, and I don't prefer that things be spelled out quite so overtly, but they're doing their best to use their power for good. That's cool. I secretly admire truly eccentic people I meet around. They seem so bold, so utterly unconcerned with other people's ideas or impressions. I admire the geeky folks that go to Star Trek conventions and dress up their dogs and children as Klingons for the same reason. I wish I had the courage it would take to go to work in a Federation uniform.
Five dead people I wish I'd met: Jesus, Martin Luther, Martin Luther King, Elizabeth Freeman, Anne Hutchinson. Dead people I'd like to hang out with: Okay, here I see no difference. Same list. Traits to look for in my friends: Lovingkindness, free thinking, independence, peace-mongering, personal responsibility, intelligence, creative problem-solving, and willingness to stand up, to stand out, and to confront ignorance and status quo. While I'm at it, I'll look for ways to unreservedly admire the ego-strength of my friends. These five people all had some big ol'... reserves of spunk (wink) and courage.
It's pretty obvious to me at this point that I also need find a way to be okay with my own ego-strength, and with its less savory but absolutely necessary manifestations. (Lord help me, but I may be a bit more of a Scarlett than a Melanie.) I can subordinate all that stuff to God, if I only listen. It shouldn't be stuffed when it could be used. It needs to be kept available in my tool chest, for the use of the Great Getter-Done-er.
Now I'm thinking of that Marianne Williamson quote, the one that's often attributed to Nelson Mandela. I see it everywhere, but maybe that's because I really need to hear and consider it again and again. I won't assume that you all know it. Here it is, for me and for whoever else it may help, even though I've already posted it elsewhere in this circle:
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
--from "A Return to Love" by Marianne Williamson
posted by eliza | 11:03 AM
1 Comments:
(((hugs))) you are such a great writer. i could relate to a lot of what you said here.
i didn't have quite as much spunk in me as a little girl by the time I was 10, it was mostly squeezed out of me. so i especially loved your story of how you reacted to the mean boy in the lunch-line. that's awesome.
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