I was running late. Only 6 minutes late - but late (I hate to be late!). I swore in conversation with Wyatt - made it funny, but still, used "fuck," and, after I dropped him off at school, found myself indulging in a bit of road rage and driving too fast.
The meeting I was late for is at 8am - it's really hard for us to get out of the house in time for me to make 8am. I can make 8:15 no problem - but 8am just seems beyond our reach. And this morning was both "Take a stuffed animal to school" day AND "Take a flower for Teacher Appreciation day" day, which meant an additional 10 minutes of "stuff" on top of getting out the door. So the fact that we were only 6 minutes late, instead of 16, that should have felt lovely!
But, rather than feeling lovely, I was beating myself up
"I am such a failure!"
" I can't both mom and work outside the home!"
" I take on too much!"
etc. etc.
And I realized that I was going to walk into the meeting with a bad, nasty, angry energy.
The last thing I want to bring to this particular meeting - a group of faculty, staff, and students committed to infusing multicultural and global understandings into the culture of our academic institution - is bad energy! Yet I seemed powerless over the rage I was feeling at myself for being late.
And then it hit me, the bolt: Everything is Great. It is a beautiful day. I am making it to work safely. I will contribute to and enjoy this meeting.
So WHY am I taking bad energy in with me??
Simple: I was taught that if you're late, you had better walk in in a huff, upset with yourself and showing it, to signify that you didn't mean to be late!
You dare not walk in, smile slightly apologetically, and then jump right into the conversation! You dare not contribute if you're 6 minutes late. In other words, you must suffer for being late - and everyone else should suffer with you.
That this is insane may sound so simple, so obvious. But if this blog is (going to be) about anything, it is about how difficult the simple can be!
In that instant, as I pulled up to the curb and saw another (late! 6 minutes late!) colleague, I knew that I was powerless over my 38 years of training regarding lateness -- until I acknowledged it. So I did: I told my colleague my internal dialogue, shared it with her as she shared similar feelings with me. I said, "I can't believe I was going to bring negative energy into this meeting, a meeting I enjoy so much and a group I care so much about!" And I thanked her for her presence - for being late with me, but more, for helping jolt me out of patterns of behavior that do not serve me.
We are powerless over so much - but we can always chose a kinder, gentler, more self-reflective path. This morning, I was given that opportunity. It was hard, but I took it. And I am grateful.
4 comments:
Glad to have read about your moment. I also give you a ton of respect for your admission regarding the AM with Wyatt-- I think when we talk openly about parenting and its challenges-- including some of the real ones, it helps others a ton more than we may ever realize. And hey, u know anything about the 12 Steps? I was at a meeting last night where the subject was the 5th-- ties in with this. I mean, isn't our bringing negative energy to things we love one of the central problems of life?
Just became a follower-- looking forward to more
Ah! I've been struggling with precisely this for years and years. I only started to articulate it to myself recently, when I started to realize so much of my mental self-punishment started because I felt like that's how I *should* feel: because I was late, because I procrastinated, because I underprepared, and so on. I did something "bad," and thus, people will expect me to feel badly about it. (Or at least that is the story that subconsciously goes through my head.)
Which is really silly when I stop to think about it, but a much harder habit to change than I'd like it to be.
Thrilled to have comments! And working, now that summer is upon this academic's life, on posting more! Weekly, if not bi-weekly.... glad to know folks are reading.
Post a Comment