Flowers and Hearts

We're coming up on one of the hardest times of year for me - Mothers Day. It's difficult to wade through the messages everywhere that all mothers are saintly. Some just ... aren't ... No matter what anyone else believes, nobody really knows what goes on behind closed doors ... except the ones behind those doors. Some kinds of memories can sour the pleasures of the present.

And of course, the annual event (and its hype) is also a reminder of one of my children who is not here anymore to wish me a happy Mothers Day. . . that kind of pain never goes away, but is more keenly felt on the 2nd Sunday in May.

For those of you who are fortunate enough to have had a wonderful mother, I am glad that you did. If your wonderful mother is still living, be sure to tell her - and show her (not just one day a year) - that you love and appreciate her. That means a lot more than gushy words in a card, pretty flowers or corsages, and chocolates once a year.

If your wonderful mother has passed away at any time (and especially recently) - I grieve with you for having lost someone very special in your life.

And if (like me) how you feel about your mom is "complicated" and you have mixed feelings (at best) about Mother's Day - and especially IF you are a mother with that kind of background ... might I offer my perspective?  I have learned through trial and error (mostly error) that the best way to survive the last week of April and the first half of May (with all the advertising campaigns capitalizing on guilt and shame) is to focus on the present and BE a good mom all year round. 

A good mom is one whose children feel safe to be themselves around her.
 

Photo "Dandelions" courtesy of sattva at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

"Now" is important.  Now matters. Continue breaking the cycle of bad parenting, abuse, and/or neglect. Treat your children - no matter how young - like the real people they are, not just as miniature extensions of yourself. Don't set them up to be laughed at - and NEVER laugh at them or call them names, or dismiss their "little feelings" (there is NOTHING "little" about feelings) as "cute" just because the reason for their distress seems minor to you. 

Respect their boundaries. Take their side. Celebrate their accomplishments. Go to bat for them when they are treated unfairly.  Say please and thank you to your children, and MEAN it. Say you're sorry to their face (and MEAN it) when you mess up. Teach them basic housekeeping and cooking techniques, do these tasks together, and teach them the joy of helping others for its own sake, not to avoid punishment or gain a material reward.  They will remember for the rest of their lives the way you treat them when they are little.  They will also remember how you treat others who have little or no power, and when they grow up, they will most likely treat others the same way.

And when the day comes (whether they're three or sixty-three) when they want to honour you for being that good Mom - and they will - don't rob them of that joy.  Smile and say thank you.  Even if all they bring you is dandelions, if it comes from the heart, see the heart behind it, look them in the eyes with all the love you have inside, and say thank you.

Listening without preconceptions

"Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds."
 ~ ~ Albert Einstein

There are many different applications of the above quote. While I have been considered by some to have a mediocre mind from time to time (and the realization that the other person views me this way is not a pleasant thing), I have occasionally been on the other side of the saying too. 

I was reminded of it a few months ago, when someone mistook my identification with and support of those who suffer from depression and suicidal thoughts to mean that I was suicidal myself. I wasn't, of course. But I feel things deeply, and I was going through some pretty intense emotional stuff at the time, so the person's interpretation of my statement, "I can understand why some people actually consider committing suicide," to mean, "I'm thinking of killing myself," led to a very uncomfortable confrontation which I did not ask for, and which I was not at all prepared to handle. 

The person's over-the-top reaction made me feel as though I was being bullied; it only added to my emotional angst.  Had I truly been suicidal, I believe that this person's reaction would have pushed me over the edge. I told her so the next time I saw her (she cornered me), and she dismissed my confrontation as me being "offended."  Hmm, yes I was offended - deeply - and I felt it was necessary to tell her that the way she handled my emotional state was inappropriate and heavy-handed. Yet she totally missed the point and continued (condescendingly) to believe that she was a caring person, one who had my best interests at heart.

That was not my perception at all. However, after I got over my initial reaction to being verbally assaulted, I was able to reflect on the situation and learn some very important lessons. 

First, I learned to never reveal my deeper emotions to people whom I do not totally trust.  This person had not earned the right to speak to me in such a controlling and intimidating way. I should not have let her know any of what was going on inside. 

Second, I learned (through watching her behavior) what NOT to do when someone has revealed that they are struggling with some heavy stuff.  I learned that one does NOT command, talk down at, or otherwise force a conversation, that when I talk to someone about emotional issues, I need to get my head on the same physical plane as theirs. If they are sitting, I sit. If they are standing, I stand - I meet them face to face, not from a position of "less than" or "more than." I need to phrase my reactions in terms of "I" statements instead of "you" statements (for example, "You should," or "You have got to..." which immediately puts the hurting person on the defensive.)  I need to listen to them and not to fill silences with a constant stream of talk, talk, talk.  And I need to ask permission to have the conversation in the first place, or do any other kind of intervention, at all times treating the person with respect. 

None of that happened in the situation I described.  I felt more like a kid called into the principal's office for something he didn't even do: condemned before I even started, and not believed when I proclaimed my innocence.

Photo "Psychologist Listening To Patient"
courtesy of David Castillo Dominici at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Finally, I learned that (too) many people are uncomfortable with strong emotion expressed by someone else; they don't know how to let it be what it is, or to deal with it (especially so-called "negative" emotion) on a personal level, and they want so desperately not to feel uncomfortable. Therefore, they will do or say ANYthing to get it to stop, even if it means emotional bullying. This is where my adaptation of Einstein's quote comes to bear: Those with the capacity for great or deep emotion are always going to encounter violent opposition from those without that capacity (either by choice or by design). So, my soul, be careful - guard your heart because it is the most precious commodity you have. Do not let it be pulled into mediocrity, or dismissed by those who cannot hope to understand. Feel what you feel, yes, but choose carefully how and to whom you reveal those feelings. 

If that sounds arrogant, so be it. For me, it is all part of self-care.

The whole experience has been an important part of my understanding of what a professional psychologist is and what he/she does. These lessons will stand me in good stead when I become a therapist someday. 

Barely recognizable

A couple of people I know have recently lost a LOT of weight. 

Of course it happened gradually, but after a while folks started to notice. "Wow, you really look great!" people said to them, especially those who hadn't seen them for a while. They flushed with pleasure and showed off the new clothes they'd been able to buy. Or they just said, "Thank you," and grinned to themselves. 

Photo Weight Loss courtesy of luigi diamanti at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Occasionally, someone who hadn't seen them since their "before" picture would say to them, "I almost didn't recognize you!" More smiles. 

Few people would argue that when someone who's overweight loses weight, there are so many health benefits that it would be ludicrous to criticize someone for not being overweight anymore. Or to try to twist that person's arm into overeating again. 

Weight loss is an easily visible transformation. The results are measurable, and those who care about the person who has succeeded in taking off weight would no more do or say anything to jeopardize their success than they would try to drive full speed into a concrete wall! 

Yet when the change is internal, that's often the first thing that happens. People are used to relating to someone in a certain way - and when that person changes, it can be hard for them to adjust. They may react in any number of ways: anger, sadness, fear, or a combination of those ... and more. What is excellent news for the person who's changed on the inside to mature or grow, become more free of fear, of resentment, of anger ... is often NOT good news for those who still see the changed individual as the same old person they used to know. Not that he or she hasn't changed. It's that the people around him or her are actually living in denial, not wanting to admit there's been a change. Or, they see the change but they really don't like it. Like the old drinking buddies of the alcoholic who's in recovery, they just want to go back to the "way things used to be." 

First, the person usually looks the same. The automatic assumption is that the person therefore IS the same ... and that the "change" he or she claims to have experienced either won't last or is somehow suspect, perhaps a veiled personal attack against family and/or friends from that former lifestyle. This leads to some inevitable boundary issues, and may actually lead to the end of certain relationships.

Second, and maybe more importantly, admitting that there has been a change, or saying that it is a good thing, would be the same as admitting that their own lives might need to be changed. In a lot of cases, people just don't want to examine their core beliefs, their attitudes, or their behavior that closely. 

I didn't. Until I did.

That is, I had to get to the place where I was desperate enough to look for help. Anyone who needs help won't seek help unless he or she feels there is no other alternative. Everyone seems to want to do it on his or her own.

Adjusting to that kind of reaction from people from my "old life" was a stretch for me. I guess I naively thought that if I was happier with the new me, then everyone would be. I hadn't counted on folks feeling threatened by it. Or denying it even happened. Or being weirded out by my insistence on rigorous honesty.

Just like I needed to be my own motivational coach, I need to be my own cheerleading squad. To myself, I'm barely recognizable compared to my "before" profile when I look into my spiritual mirror. To the ones who know me well, they can see and rejoice in the difference too. However, very few appreciate the transformation, so most of the motivation to keep it up, and the recognition for milestones already reached, has to come from within. 

For now.

Back to square one

I picked up my new laptop today. The experience was ... well, bittersweet.

The saga of the Mac is not quite finished; I phoned the repair guys today and left a message for when they open the shop up on Monday morning at 10:30 (yes, that's right: 10:30 to 5:30, Monday to Friday!) that I want my MacBook Pro back the way I took it to them, the wires and gadgets hooked up even if it doesn't work, and I'll settle up when that is done. Basically, I don't want them touching it any more than necessary. Of course I didn't tell them that.

Then I'll take it to the place I bought it, and see if they'll do something for me or whether I nullified my warranty when I took it to someone else to do repairs. 

Time will tell. At this point, if a replacement happens, it's gravy.

In the meantime, I am very grateful for this new laptop. It's quite different from both the Mac and my husband's PC - different feel to the keyboard, different (updated) operating system (Windows 8) and other bells and whistles I could probably do without. ;)

It's nice to be sitting in my own seat again too ... such a small pleasure but I enjoy it immensely; I can lean my head back instead of having it propped forward. What a blessing. 

As much as I talk about self-care - and I talk about it a LOT - it still feels rather strange - like I feel guilty or something - to be spending all this time and money on myself. 

The restart button on many machines,
got the image from cherwriter.blogspot.com

I feel as though I've gone through a rite of passage, so to speak, giving legs to all the talk about looking after myself. Talking is one way for me to get the message, but as the saying goes, actions speak louder than words. This "indulgence" - if you want to call it that - is but the first in a string of little practical messages of self-worth that I'm sending to myself ... and they're not going to happen often - just once in a while. 

It also feels strange to be starting over again from square one. I have to put in all my bookmarks and contacts from scratch - what a pain - but the up side of that is that there were too many bookmarks I wasn't using anymore on my old machine - and contacts have updated their email addresses so I can get rid of the things that no longer are valid. So, in a sense, I'm getting a fresh start. Everyone needs one of those once in a while.  
Even if he - or she - doesn't deserve it.

Honour and Fame

This week, the music world and millions of fans were dismayed (myself among them) at the untimely death of the Queen of Pop, Whitney Houston.  I've always loved her voice - one of my favorite singers of all time - and her death hit me hard. For a few days running I watched a show I usually detest (E-Talk) to hear news of how and why it happened.  

In one interview with David Foster, he revealed that there wasn't a moment that went by when someone, somewhere didn't want something from Ms. Houston. Fame had placed a burden on her that no human was meant to carry, and she apparently tried to escape from it in drugs ... most recently prescription drugs.  

I blame our society's tendency to put people up on pedestals and let individuals within that society want to own a little piece of someone famous.  We do it with celebrities of all stripes - from sports heroes to singers to the royal family.  We forget that they are real people.  Real people whose noses run sometimes, who sometimes aren't at their best, who occasionally do stupid things, and who deserve to have a little privacy.  (By the way, the fact that Ms. Houston's family has requested a private ceremony by invitation only is a testament to that need - that incredible need for dignity, for respect, for decency, and [for once in her public life] privacy.  I applaud them for it.)  

Source:
www.ctv.ca/

Fans worldwide are grieving.  

But after all, Whitney Houston was someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's niece, someone's mother, someone's wife ... and more, so much more than her fans can comprehend.  May she rest in peace.  May her family find solace. 

But her death - at the young age of 48 - has sparked some comments on the incongruity of the death of a celebrity versus the sacrifice of someone who (aside from family and friends) is virtually unknown, but who has perhaps given his or her life to save another's.  Or like the guy who goes to a job he hates every day, and in so doing dies just a little more every moment of every day ... just to put food on the table for his family.  Or people like our service men and women who brave untold dangers and see unthinkable sights in the line of military duty in foreign lands.  

Whose life has more merit?  Whose death is more tragic? whose sacrifice is greater? that which relinquishes privacy and possibly health for a life of fame ... or that which gives up family and home for the grueling and dangerous task of protecting people who may not want to be protected? or that which sacrifices stardust-filled dreams to meet the needs of those he or she loves?  these are questions that cannot be answered ... but they make us think.  

Perhaps those self-sacrificing heroes are all the more honourable because they are unsung.  Perhaps if their accomplishments were to be noised abroad, they might forget their unique calling and fall into the Venus Flytrap of fame. We need them to keep on with their mission.  That guy's kids still need their dad to keep them from going hungry.  And they are no less heroes ... than the person whose face (and life in every possible unflattering detail) is plastered across every newspaper in the country - or the world.

Facing fears

I've hated confrontation for as long as I can remember.  I guess it comes from growing up in a home where the cardinal rule was not to make a certain family member mad - or worse, to make that person cry.  (ughh.)  I remember spending my childhood either walking on eggshells or trying to hide from someone's unpredictable wrath because that was dangerous to my health: physical AND emotional.  

So when I started to recover from a lifestyle of doormat-itis and of controlling others through guilt trips and manipulation... avoiding direct confrontation whenever possible ... it was a really difficult step for me to learn how to speak up for myself and inform someone when he or she was doing something that was bothering me - either physically or just that "arrrgh!" that comes from someone's annoying habits that might only bother me personally (anything from tapping a pencil on a desk, to entering into my personal space - extremely closely - to talk to me).  

As I was recovering, it was difficult to know what was a valid complaint and what wasn't.  I had some definite problems with certain behaviors of other people which were causing me physical pain.  Yet I felt as though I couldn't approach them - partly because I hated confrontation so much (okay mostly that) but also because being in their presence was physically painful to me.  I didn't handle those situations well before I started to recover.  I made some pretty awful mistakes, as a matter of fact; I hurt quite a few people.  And when I was first recovering, I didn't know what to do about these situations.  My previous behavior really bothered me... yet I didn't know how to right the wrongs I had done and still communicate my needs to people.  It stumped me for a long time.  

Having had no boundaries for such a long time, it was hard to set them without offending people; I had no practice at all.  And so ... I did the only things I could think of to do.  First, I prayed about it.  Then... I asked for help.

I approached someone at my workplace whose job it is to resolve conflicts.  She and I developed a rapport and we still touch base every 6 months or so.  She listened to me, gave honest feedback, and suggested practical ways to approach people whom I had harmed, to start conversations with them and set my own expectations realistically.  I was grateful for her suggestions.  Today, with the exception of perhaps three of those people, I've been able to make amends to them, and I even enjoy good working relationships (including playful banter) with some of them.  

With some of them, I had to go directly to them and have a fairly difficult and honest conversation - approaching it with an open mind and listening more than speaking.  With others, the direct approach didn't work; I just began (as simplistic as it sounds) to smile at these people when I saw them in the corridor.  One of them has only barely started to smile back.  I still haven't given up on those three remaining people - it might take a while but I am determined to approach each one in a way that fits with his or her particular style of reconciliation. 

It's coming.

Open Up

A friend of mine posted on his facebook wall a video he took of a rare sight: a nest of baby robins.  They felt the vibration of him coming closer - and it activated their "feed me" stance - mouths wide open, bobbing back and forth.  Their eyes weren't even open.  Less than a minute long, the video reminded me of something I had forgotten - not even thought about in a long time.  

Source:   http://www.telegraph.co.uk/earth/earthpicturegalleries/
5213909/Animal-pictures-of-the-week-24-April-2009.html?image=6

"Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it."  (Psalm 81:10)

It's the mental picture of opening up to the source of love, grace, mercy and wisdom in expectation that those needs will be satisfied - that whatever I need will be provided when I need it, if I open myself to the provider of all of those things. And more.  It's a picture of complete trust.  Of vulnerability.  Of hunger.  Of longing.  Of desperation.

The robins instinctively open their mouths in the direction of where the food will come from.  It's just like human babies: when you stroke their cheek, they open their mouths wide and turn their heads in that direction - the "rooting reflex."  It's natural ... they are looking to be fed.  It's extremely linked to survival.  

So with the world of the spirit.  God responds to desperation, to desire, to honesty and trust, to spiritual hunger.  He is the source of fulfillment to those desires that sometimes we can't even name - we just know that we want "more." He put that there within us.  We can fill it with a whole lot of things that will not satisfy in the end, and leave us feeling empty and used. When we finally get to the point of desperation, the invitation is still there.  All we need to do is open up who we are to Him.

Turning a corner

This last little while has got to be the weirdest 3 weeks of my life.

It started the afternoon of April 19.  I was finishing up my shift at work when my manager (my boss' boss) said she wanted to talk to me.  Oh no, I thought. What did I do now?  (I guess old thought patterns are really hard to expunge from the psyche).  

Long story short, she was facing a shortage of team leaders for a short period of time and wondered if I would like to fill in for one of them.  After my jaw stopped dropping open of its own free will, I said I would love to do that! And so she put the wheels in motion for me to start Thursday the 21st (essentially a day and a half later) - the day before Good Friday - until Friday the 29th, a total of 5 working days.  During that week I learned a LOT, and thoroughly enjoyed myself.  Not the "being in charge" part so much as the variety of things, the never knowing what was waiting for me when I got into the office, and the sense of accomplishment I would feel when I had resolved a problem for someone. As a brief "aside" - I had expected to receive immediate respect for having been named as an A-slash (acting for someone else) but it didn't happen.  When it happened was when I rolled up my sleeves and started doing what was expected of me ... while still being myself.  It surprised me to find out that I didn't have to NOT be me to do the job.  Go figure... 

So the Monday afternoon after all this was done, (that would be this past Monday) my supervisor came to see me. "How did you like team leading last week? did you enjoy it?" I did, and told him so - exclaimed that it was so different from what I normally did - but that it was a good kind of different.  So he asked me if I wanted to fill in for him when he was away the next 3 days.  I said, "Sure!" and he just up and let people on the team know.  So the last 3 days I have been fielding different questions from lots of different sources and feeling so incredibly validated by all of it.  It's a weird feeling, one I didn't expect - yes, my name was more up front - but I played more of a 'support' role.

It's like turning a corner when you're flying.

The G-forces are more powerful, and in order to keep from losing altitude you have to speed up - which puts more pressure on the plane.  You need to bank the plane (turn it sideways a bit) when turning - and it means you're tilted with gravity pulling you in one direction.  But the turn is pulling you in the opposite direction (same as when you go around a turn in a car - turning left will make your body be pushed toward the right).  All these forces are at play in order to keep the plane in the air and pointed in the right direction.  But you get where you're going faster - and you get to see everything from a "bird's eye view."  There are no blind hills or blind curves in the air as there are on the ground.  Yet, the potential for more severe personal injury is (at least at first it seems so) greater.  

Still, there is no denying that it is exhilarating - even more so if the passengers are there of their own free will (grin).  

I was told that this process that I am on would open new doors for me; at the time I didn't believe it.  But I am coming to believe that if it wasn't for this journey, these opportunities would never have been presented to me.  It's a humbling thing.

And tomorrow night, I start another new adventure.  In a local church basement, I'll be hosting a meeting of a group of people who will come to share their experience, strength and hope to help each other recover from the obsessive need to control and take care of other people - to their own detriment.  I was such a one... and still have to fight that urge to fix people by imposing my will on them. I showed my hubby a poster with all the patterns and symptoms of codependency (see my page, "What is Codependency?") and he counted all the symptoms and said, "Twenty-four."  Then he read through them to see how many of them he had (I won't say how he did...) 

And then I asked him, "Compare that list to me 'before' I started my journey of healing and 'after.'  What are my numbers?"


"Oh, well - 'before' - you had all 24 things.  And 'after'..." here he paused and counted in his head while looking at the list ... "you have 5."  

I must admit that I really didn't think I had improved THAT much - maybe around 8 - so I was impressed that he thought I only had 5 patterns of codependency left.  

I give the credit to God who has empowered me to get on and stay on this journey.  And He's by no means done with me.  All I AM saying is that God is in the miracle-working business...and this is living proof that I'm turning a corner - and that if it can happen with me, it can happen with anybody.

Mighty Meekness

The last several days have been fairly stressful for me.

I was in a situation where I was feeling attacked, bullied, trapped.  It was (to say the least) quite upsetting.

The old me would have run away, refused to face the situation until cornered, and then overreacted, braced for the situation with a chip on my shoulder, spoiling for a fight. 

To be sure, I didn't handle it perfectly, but I am amazed by the fact that I had enough self-knowledge to be able to refrain from the desire to retaliate, to just give myself time to process my emotions and to get some objectivity.  That took me 4 days.  In the meantime I talked out my feelings with people I trust - and asked for prayer support as I went into the lion's den (so to speak) to face the issue head-on.

A friend gave me some really valuable advice not long before my confronting the issue.  This person said to not go in from a defensive point of view but with a view to understanding and resolving the problem.  An open hand - this friend told me - goes way farther than a clenched fist.

I recognized the wisdom in those words.  So before meeting with the person in question, I made sure that I was as relaxed as possible and resolving not to escalate anything.  And I took about 5 to 10 deep breaths - and prayed.

And you know, it went really well.  We understood each other, apologies made on both sides, and in another area we agreed to disagree and respect each other's opinion.  But the confrontation I so feared didn't happen; everything was civil, and by the end we were even starting to banter back and forth.

Sometimes people look at the word "meekness" and read it as "weakness" - my friend had already learned that this is not the case.  And today I learned how mighty meekness can really be.  I felt the positive thoughts and the prayers that bolstered my spirit, reminding me to do the right thing for the right reasons, and be true to myself.  Meekness is power under control - the picture is of a spirited stallion held in check with just a small bit and bridle.  Or - a huge elephant, capable of stampeding, curbing his great strength and being gentle.  

When I compare my behavior today to how I would have reacted a little over two years ago, I can't believe it.  I felt my feelings (all weekend to be sure) processed them, resisted the temptation (with help) to stick to the facts and the behaviors, talked about my feelings without attacking, owned up to my part in the situation, and voilà! 


I am still amazed by how the most distressing of circumstances can be used to help us to grow inside, as long as we remain true to a serene lifestyle of honesty, openness, and willingness.

Created by God

This is where reality meets you.

The sights, the sounds, the smells of the street - people living in dumpsters, rooting through yesterday's garbage and fighting with birds, raccoons, flies and bugs for a few bites to eat.  Smelling like they haven't bathed in months. Well, they haven't.

And they are no less precious to God than you and I.

The weather is getting colder.  Winter is coming.  What of them?  where will they sleep?  what will they eat?

They'll sleep where they always have - they'll eat what they always have. Or haven't.  They'll get chased out of coffee shops, liquor stores, and malls.  They'll beg for change on the street.  And we turn away and don't want to look.  Perhaps we judge them for not being responsible and getting a job.  At best, maybe we don't want to admit that there are people in this prosperous country (debatable) who live lives like wild animals, scrounging for food and depending on the wastefulness and sometimes, but rarely, the kindnesses of others. 

They do, though. 

One of the most precious old men I know is a man I know only as Joseph. He's homeless. He can't work; he has a disability.  He has family but he can't seem to stay put and so ... he travels.  Hitch-hiking, walking mostly.  He smells like B.O., evergreens and wood smoke.  And he is the most gentle soul I've met in a very long time.  A ready smile behind his bushy gray beard and twinkling eyes peeking out from behind several winter coats, he loves to stop by a church for a Sunday morning service.  He loves God with all his heart.  And he loves God's people.  Especially children - he is so tender with them.  

What a saint.  I am honoured to know him.  Yet - there are those who would not be able to get past the smell and the ruggedness of this fellow.  How much they miss!!

I suggest, for this Christmas season, watching the popular Christmas movie again, "Home Alone 2."  In that movie, there is a relationship forged between our hero Kevin MacAllister and a homeless woman who feeds the pigeons in Central Park.  It's worth the watch just to see how a simple act of kindness can sometimes be all someone needs - could be anyone by the way - to turn on the light in his or her life and replace despair with a glimmer of sunshine... or moonlight.

Let's let it inspire us to give in the spirit of Nicholas, the old saint who gave to the poor at Christmas, to those who could never hope to repay him, just because they also were created by God.

One of the dichotomies (side-by-side contrasts) presented in Disney's "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" is the song of the leading lady, Esmeralda, as she prays to God.  A bit of history:  the "gypsies" they refer to in the movie were actually French Hugenots - Protestants, who took on an itinerant life and entertained to pay their way in the world, ostracized by religious types like Frollo, the cruel magistrate who persecuted and imprisoned dozens of them.  Listen to her pray her "gypsy's prayer" ...

When the respectable ones prayed, they asked for wealth, fame, glory, love, blessing.  Sounds a lot like today's middle- and upper-class church members. All she prays for (and not for herself) is for God to help the downtrodden.

Wow. That's all I can say.   

A New Freedom and a New Happiness

Recently I had to attend an all-day workshop with someone I really didn't want to be in a room with.

This person was someone I found hard to be around because in my experience, she used some sort of scented product that instantly gave me a headache whenever she came within 10 feet of me.

She was also one of the people I named last fall in a work-related fiasco I spoke about in an earlier post (click here to read about it.)

I knew I had to talk to her but I was dreading it. I believed her to be unreceptive to what I had to say.

At the workshop though, I noticed that she was not wearing any scented product. So at the end of the day, I saw her by herself and thought that this was the perfect opportunity to thank her. I spoke to her and said that I had been meaning to talk to her about last fall when all of that happened at work. We talked for about 10 minutes, and we each shared things the other didn't know. We were talking like friends at the end. She turned to me and said, "You know, I feel SO much better! Thank you for your courage in coming to me, I'm so glad you did!" We wished each other a great evening... she even offered to let others know the things about last fall that she had discovered during our chat - to get the word out.

I had this big silly grin all over my face as I walked to the car.

It made my day.

Crow tastes ba-ad!

Oh, how I hate to "eat crow."

I think everyone does.

I hate it when I do some thing or other that is based on my gut reactions and I don't think it through, or I don't ask the right questions, or I don't go to the source before jumping to conclusions - and it comes back to bite me - uh - well, in the butt. Always. Every time I learn something new. I feel like Anne of Green Gables when she said, "Marilla, I never make the same mistake twice. But - oh, Marilla - there are ever so many to make!!"

This time I learned another very important lesson.

Never let someone else do your talking for you. Go to the person yourself and be your own mouthpiece. Even if it's hard. OUUUCH - that was hard to learn!!!

It began with me getting sick because people at work were wearing perfume and scented products. We have a scent-free policy at work and I was told that the managers couldn't enforce it because all they can do is accommodate the sufferer. Labour Relations got involved. They told me they couldn't do anything until I named names. I didn't want to but I didn't see any other way for me to get the message out that this was making me sick. I felt I couldn't go to the people who were wearing the stuff, because I couldn't get within 15 feet of them without getting a headache. Even 5 minutes' exposure (at the time) would give me a migraine. I felt I was stuck; I was in tunnel vision mode and couldn't see any other option than the one they gave me. (Read about my illness here).

Management never told me exactly what it was they were going to do. If I'd known, I never would have allowed it.

All I knew was that they were going to have "conversations" with these people. I thought that was a good idea; after all, I couldn't get near them to have those conversations ...and I HATE confrontation.

After a time, I noticed that the people I named were not speaking to me at all. I knew they were probably miffed at me, and that bothered me. However, I didn't know what else I could have done. I was stuck in the mindset that the kind of confrontation I would have to have with them must be face-to-face, and I couldn't do that - physically couldn't. Lately, though, God was working on me, and making me realize that things were not the way they should be between me and these people. Besides, some of them were still wearing perfumed products - even though they might not think they were. I finally approached someone to work out ways to talk to each of these people without putting myself at risk, but I hadn't put any of it into practice yet.

Thursday past, I had to take a file to one of these people. She - brave soul - honestly told me that she was very hurt by the way I handled the whole situation. Then she let me know what she had to go through last summer when I named names. She was called down to the union to have a formal reprimand put on her permanent record. She was told who made the complaint, what it was, and she was not given a chance to defend herself. She was treated as guilty from the get-go. She was totally blindsided.

I felt so very bad. I never intended for the people I trusted, the people who were in leadership and who were supposed to have everyone's best interest at heart, to put anyone into that position.

I apologized profusely for the pain she had to endure, the embarrassment, the trouble I got her into without knowing it. I freely admitted that I handled the whole thing badly. I explained to her where my head was at the time, but I made no excuses for my cowardice. I fully took responsibility for not going to her first - even by email - and trying to work things out.

The whole conversation took 10 minutes. At the end, she felt better, I felt better (sort of) and we understood each other. At least we're talking, which is more than what we were doing before.

That's one less conversation I have to have.
I've got about six more to go. (gulp) I feel like poor George of the Jungle right before his big swing (in the movie with Brendan Fraser). "Biggest swing ever, will hurt very much. But George have to do it! (...whimper....)"

I still don't like the taste of crow. But I know that it keeps me humble, and I have learned so much from every portion.

Even this one (yuck!)