Point of view

The other day, I got a chance to watch somebody do something that I didn't have the courage to do: talk to a complete stranger who (by all reports) could have become angry and violent given the subject matter of the conversation. 

I was supposed to have talked to the man... but basically, well-ll-lllll .... I chickened out. This person I was watching had offered to talk to him for me - and had asked me if I wanted to watch and see "how it was done." I jumped at the chance.

Every fear I had nursed about this conversation never materialized. The man was polite, courteous, and even understanding. That was amazing enough in itself. However, what was even more amazing for me was how my friend approached the conversation.

Instead of fear and trepidation, there was confidence, friendliness, and humor. 

I thought a lot about how the conversation went with my friend in charge, and how it might have gone with me at the helm. I didn't like what I saw... but I did start to understand what the difference was. It was "point of view."

Later, after the conversation was over, I told my friend about my epiphany, my inner realization about the point of view determining the course of a conversation, a social interaction, a task. 

You see, my friend actually expected things to go well. There was an inner confidence, a belief that most people would be nice and that there was no need to worry. (I don't have that.) There was also the fact that my friend stayed "in the moment" and didn't play the "what if" game. (I do that all the time!) 

Point of view, or perspective, or mind-set, determines a great deal of things in life. It can cause us to be adventurous or reticent, thoughtless or thoughtful, confident or fearful, trusting or suspicious, and everything in between. My friend was always told that she could do anything that she set her mind to, that the world was a wonderful place, that her own opinion of herself was the only one that mattered, and that people could be incredibly sweet. I was told that I was a screw-up, that the world had it in for me, that the most important thing in the world was what people thought about you, and that my feelings and thoughts didn't matter at all. 

Photo "Serpentine Pathway Stones On A Park Walkway"
(concept) by arturo at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

We came at this conversation - and I came to realize that we come at life - from two completely different points of view, based on our own experiences in our growing-up years. Suddenly, in the presence of my friend (after the conversation was over and I realized that all went well) I remembered someone saying once that we create what we believe ... because what we believe determines how we act, and also it determines how others react to us. I have no doubt that if I had talked to that man, he would have become irritated with me because I believed that he would and because I would have therefore been apologetic and hesitant with him, stumbling over my words. And therein lies my problem. 

My problem lies within me. It lies in my own point of view - created early on in my life by people whose own point of view was warped and distorted, and adopted by me because I didn't know any different way to be.

The good part of all this is that through this experience, my problem - which had been "out there" and quite cloudy and hard to grasp - gelled and came into clear focus for me. That is the first step in doing something about it.

Yes, I will make this a matter of prayer - and of focused self-talk using what I know to be true instead of what I have been told by those who don't know any better. But I also know that if I need help or focus doing that self-talk, I can ask for help. I don't need to struggle through it alone.

That's something those people in my early life would never have suggested because, well, "What would people think?" I'm learning not to listen to that tired old song. And now that I know what to ask for, you can bet that I'll be asking for it. 

And I'll get there. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

What it takes

I had a rather interesting experience the other night.

I got a chance to role-play as a counselor with someone who is also studying to be a counselor, just as I am; she played the role of the client - which for me was quite the thing because she has more experience than I do at being in a counseling role!

Since I am bound by counselor-client confidentiality, I can't tell anyone what we discussed. However, I can talk about something that happened that meant a great deal to me in that few minutes and in the few minutes that followed, as my group members gave me some feedback of what they observed me doing and saying.

Before I do, though, I need to make a confession. 

I didn't know whether or not I would make a good counselor. I wondered if, after all was said and done, my courses passed and then entering my practicum (estimated time of arrival for that will be Spring 2015) ... whether I was really "cut out" for counseling.

I had heard people tell me that I would be a great counselor. I had gotten support and encouragement from my family, from my friends and from colleagues. And I appreciate everyone's faith in me. It really helps.

But that night was different. That night there were people listening to me, watching me, and evaluating my responses in "real time".  People that have already been in the leather chair, so to speak. 

My office space inviting me

I was so incredibly nervous. I found myself fumbling, grasping for words. And then as I listened to my "client," it happened. I became engrossed in her story. I started listening rather than thinking of what to say next. 

When we were done (the whole thing took under 10 minutes) my colleagues (including my "client") told me what they thought. Honestly. As they described my skills to me from their objective points of view, it was such a boost to my confidence level. It was also a relief that perhaps I hadn't been barking up the wrong tree when I decided to pursue this degree, and it made me very grateful that I had an opportunity to practice these skills in a safe environment (instead of being thrown into the deep end! and I'm not a swimmer, folks...) 

What I'm learning as a result of these interactions and my readings is that even if I don't have a particular skill, I can develop that skill with practice. And if I DO have a particular skill, I can hone it with practice. Plus, if I need to get some feedback or talk about an area that I feel I am weak in, I can talk to someone who has been at it for a lot longer, and gain some insight from him or her. 

I'm not in this alone. And whether or not I have 'what it takes' ... I have people around me who will make sure that I get it. 

That's worth a whole lot to me.

Storm Stayed

This morning, of all mornings when I would have loved to have slept in, I was awake at 5:30. I awoke to the low moan of winter outside our window, rising occasionally into a whistle.

I hate winter. I've made no secret of it. I hate everything about it - except for the fact that it doesn't last all year long where I live. I detest the cold, the wind, the snow, EVERY winter sport or activity, the ice on the windshields, the shoveling, the slippery roads, the ice underfoot, the slush, the slow traffic, the lack of greenery, the short daylight hours, the bulky clothing and ... did I mention the cold? Uggh!! 

"An Old Mountain Shelter Covered with Snow"
Image courtesy of Michal Marcol at www.freedigitalphotos.net

I've learned to survive, of course. I'm Canadian after all. We accommodate. ;) 

I've even learned to find things for which to be grateful in the midst of all this "white stuff" - which technically ... is quite dirty and not something I would want to melt and drink! 

I can be grateful for a warm, safe home, when so many must sleep in dumpsters and on park benches even in this weather. I can be grateful that (for example, today, when there's a blizzard raging outside) all of my loved ones are accounted for, and most are sleeping late! I am pleased that the power is not out - at least not yet - and that even if it does go out, we live in an area that usually can get it going fairly quickly. I can be glad that we knew that this storm was coming and that we had time to stock up on groceries, batteries, and the like. I can be thankful that hubby did my laundry yesterday, that we are on the city water and sewer systems (so we don't have to use a commode anymore!) and that in the fall of 2011, we paid someone to come in and spray-foam (insulate) our furnace room. And finally, I can be very grateful that storms don't last forever. 

That last point is good to remember when I've been hit with the blizzards of life, too - when body-blow after body-blow happens and I feel overwhelmed. "This too shall pass." Or, "The storm doesn't stay." 

At times in my past, I had a tendency to get storm-stayed and lose my way, refusing to emerge from my hiding place. When events would transpire that were distressing for me, I'd hunker down. And these occurrences would pile up! After a while, I'd expect to get those emotional hay-makers, and would interpret everything that happened, not at face value, but by attributing the motive that "they're out to get me." Even the good things were tainted with bitterness. I'd mistrust any good that anyone did for me, wondering what they wanted in return. I'd deflect any kind words, thinking that those who complimented me or were kind to me didn't really mean it, that it was just the polite thing to do ... or that they felt sorry for me. 

When I started to heal on the inside, I started to realize that for decades, in response to years of physical and emotional abuse, I had created an emotional atmosphere within myself that was conducive to many of the negative things I was experiencing, or that I perceived to be happening. Since I expected bad things to happen, that's all I saw, which only deepened my belief that I was somehow under a curse. 

In a sense, I was under a curse. I was stayed - stuck, detained - in the "What next?" mentality, a real "storm magnet." However, as I became more and more free from the effects of those childhood experiences, my self-esteem became more balanced and I was able to find my own identity, and not the one that was tied up in what others thought about me, or how they might want to hurt me. 

In time, and with a great deal of repetition and reinforcement of the "new Judy," I actually began to believe statements like, "Today is a good day, unless I make other plans." And, "Don't let a bad moment turn into a bad day." As I did, and I started to get to know myself and like myself, I dared to believe that others could like me too. It's a process, of course. Part of it is realizing that there are going to be people who won't like me, no matter how hard I try to impress them... and that I don't need to keep chasing after them. It's okay to let go. It's okay to be me and not feel I have to apologize for it. 

I'm still learning those lessons.

So now, when those kinds of storms happen - and they do occasionally - I remind myself that it's okay to protect myself from them, but that they don't last, and I don't need to be stayed by storms beyond the "all clear." And I can remember that, as George of the Jungle said in the 1997 movie, "Something good always happen after."

As the Deer Pants

"As the deer pants for the water, so my soul longs after You..." (Psalm 42:1)

I used to hear this verse and have this picture of a deer peacefully drinking from a still lake at sunset.

But the picture is far from peaceful. A deer usually only pants when it has been running for a long time, pursued by hunters (usually with dogs). It heads for the water, deep into a river or a stream (the deeper the better) so that its scent can be hidden. It runs at top speed and will exhaust itself trying to get to the water - for only there can its life have a chance of being preserved. It will only quench its growing thirst from the water itself, after it is safe from its attackers.

The Psalmist had this mental image in mind when he wrote those words. He knew that only in God could he have a hope of having a real life. This is a picture of desperation - of intense desire, of knowing that God was his only source of safety.

I wonder - in this western culture of affluence and instant gratification - if we can grasp the concept that our only chance to truly live is in the knowledge and the awareness of the presence of God?