After a couple of years away from the classroom, I'm back to taking a semi-intensive refresher in my second language, French. I could feel my skills getting pretty rusty in my daily job, and my test results have recently expired, so I thought it best to give myself a boost.
We meet twice a week for two and a half hours each time, and will do so until mid-December. Then we'll do a full week, seven hours a day, Monday to Friday, before finally culminating with "the test." (Also known as "the dreaded test.")
After so long away from that kind of atmosphere, I find that I need to really focus and pay attention to what is going on around me at all times. Such vigilance is demanding not only on the brain, but also on the body - after such a session, I have a tension headache, and my neck and shoulders are stiff and sore from leaning forward to catch every word. However, I know that it will get easier as I get more used to the new reality, as I learn to think in French. Or re-learn how.
Learning a different way of thinking is always hard at first. It takes a great deal of concentration - and often, error - and trying again to get it right.
I remember that, in the process of inner healing that is so often the topic of this blog, my habit of wanting to (and trying to) influence the outcome of a situation always ended badly, yet when I began to take my hands off the situations I so wanted to manipulate, it was very hard to let go. At one point early in my healing process, in order to remind myself to mentally unhook, I actually had to physically step back and put my hands up in surrender, as if someone behind me said, "Stick'em up." It was so much easier to do what I had always done, but I was acutely aware that this would only lead to more frustration for me and for my loved ones. So at first, I had to be intentional - even obvious - about my need to let go of the need to control, to help, to fix, to make it all better. It was very tiring. It took a LOT of effort.
During that time, I had to be good to myself, to do things "for me" that I had not previously allowed myself to enjoy. Even something as simple as listening to good music was an effort for me, because I had been living my life so completely for other people and for their needs and wants that I was burning out. So I got myself a pocket-sized device with some earphones - at first to shut out the chatter at work, but then to feed my spirit - and from time to time I would listen to music that built me up, that recharged my batteries, if you will. It helped me; it gave me the reserves I needed to draw upon when the sheer effort of participating in my own healing weighed too heavily on me.
As I started to shed some of the baggage from my growing-up years, a process which required a lot of energy, it helped to take those breaks from the grueling work of recovery and speak softly to my inner child, affirm her worth.
Throughout the process, God was there to help me mount the learning curve, climb out of the chasm of habitual self-abasement, guilt trips, and manipulation and up the mountainside of confidence, self-respect and peace. Even when sometimes I wondered if He was even there, He'd find some way to let me feel that tug of the guide rope, and pull me upward one more step until I could find a foothold and another goal to attain.
It's never been easy. It still isn't. But the view is getting pretty amazing.
We meet twice a week for two and a half hours each time, and will do so until mid-December. Then we'll do a full week, seven hours a day, Monday to Friday, before finally culminating with "the test." (Also known as "the dreaded test.")
After so long away from that kind of atmosphere, I find that I need to really focus and pay attention to what is going on around me at all times. Such vigilance is demanding not only on the brain, but also on the body - after such a session, I have a tension headache, and my neck and shoulders are stiff and sore from leaning forward to catch every word. However, I know that it will get easier as I get more used to the new reality, as I learn to think in French. Or re-learn how.
I remember that, in the process of inner healing that is so often the topic of this blog, my habit of wanting to (and trying to) influence the outcome of a situation always ended badly, yet when I began to take my hands off the situations I so wanted to manipulate, it was very hard to let go. At one point early in my healing process, in order to remind myself to mentally unhook, I actually had to physically step back and put my hands up in surrender, as if someone behind me said, "Stick'em up." It was so much easier to do what I had always done, but I was acutely aware that this would only lead to more frustration for me and for my loved ones. So at first, I had to be intentional - even obvious - about my need to let go of the need to control, to help, to fix, to make it all better. It was very tiring. It took a LOT of effort.
During that time, I had to be good to myself, to do things "for me" that I had not previously allowed myself to enjoy. Even something as simple as listening to good music was an effort for me, because I had been living my life so completely for other people and for their needs and wants that I was burning out. So I got myself a pocket-sized device with some earphones - at first to shut out the chatter at work, but then to feed my spirit - and from time to time I would listen to music that built me up, that recharged my batteries, if you will. It helped me; it gave me the reserves I needed to draw upon when the sheer effort of participating in my own healing weighed too heavily on me.
As I started to shed some of the baggage from my growing-up years, a process which required a lot of energy, it helped to take those breaks from the grueling work of recovery and speak softly to my inner child, affirm her worth.
Throughout the process, God was there to help me mount the learning curve, climb out of the chasm of habitual self-abasement, guilt trips, and manipulation and up the mountainside of confidence, self-respect and peace. Even when sometimes I wondered if He was even there, He'd find some way to let me feel that tug of the guide rope, and pull me upward one more step until I could find a foothold and another goal to attain.
It's never been easy. It still isn't. But the view is getting pretty amazing.
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