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.

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."

Saddle Sores

Sometimes, getting along with people is hard.

Put another way, the intricacies of interpersonal relationships are such that they can turn into a mine-field more than a healing zone. 

Whether at home, work, church, school, or elsewhere, the potential for misunderstandings and power-plays (and everything in between) is huge because people are human - and humans make mistakes. Humans also like to be right, and will do anything to convince themselves that they are right. Even if it means manipulating the situation in such a way that the other person looks wrong - or stupid.

I was bemoaning such a relationship last night as I tried to get to sleep - and sleep would not come. The more I thought about a particular sequence of events, the worse I felt. The feeling of being betrayed, irritated, used, taken for granted (even possibly taken for a fool), and ... ridden - was tangible. This morning, as I tried to make sense of it all, tried to identify what was wrong, I listed my feelings as if they were physical symptoms ... and because I have a background in equitation, suddenly it became clear to me.

I have saddle sores. You know - the kind that horses get. Only mine are emotional.

To test my theory, I went to Google found an article on saddle sores, what they are, what causes them and how to prevent them. It's as I thought. Saddle sores are tender, raw spots on a horse's back or sides that happen when there is repetitive rubbing against the hair follicles. They usually happen where the equipment (like the saddle and/or the girth, or the strap that holds the saddle on the horse) comes into contact with the horse. 

Friction causes saddle sores. It doesn't have to be a whole lot of friction, just a few millimeters is all it takes, but it's the repetitive nature of it over a prolonged period of time, back and forth, over and over, that causes the hair follicles under the saddle to become inflamed and tender, and it can lead to infection, and sometimes even dead tissue - which (after removal) means that the hair never grows there again. And did I mention that saddle sores HURT? Think blister. Think abscess.

Ouch. A horse with a saddle sore can't be ridden for a long time, until the sore is healed completely. That can mean weeks of treatment. 

What am I getting at? Well, the author of the article says that there are several underlying causes of the irritation that leads to saddle sores and other similar sores that appear under the bridle or other riding or harness equipment. These main causes are: 

• the way the individual horse is built - this can't be changed, but allowances can be made for it;
• the riding equipment that's used: saddle and bridle, especially if these things are unclean. A dirty saddle or bridle is stiff and crusty, doesn't bend with the horse's movements, and rubs the hair and skin raw; and
• how well the rider rides - this can be changed!

Now. Here's where my mind started kicking in; here's the analogy part. Think of the following symbolism (if you haven't already figured it out):

• the horse is the one feeling "ridden" or "used" - in this case, me;
• the saddle and bridle (also called the "tack") is the rules and regulations, the organizational framework in which I and the other person/people involved operate; and
• the rider is the other individual (in essence, the one who is "riding" me). This is the person who has some sort of power or control over me, whether by delegated authority or by function.

Photo "Horseman On Horse" courtesy of dan at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Treating saddle sores is far more unpleasant for everyone than preventing them from happening in the first place. It takes a little extra care, but the time investment is well worth it. It makes the relationship far more enjoyable - in the horse world and in the human world!

In particular, as I review the three main causes for saddle sores (the individual makeup or quirks of the one being ridden, the flexibility of the rules and regulations under which everyone operates, and the skill of the rider), might I suggest the following applications for preventing the emotional effects of being "ridden?"

• Judicious use of padding - Saddles come in standard sizes; horses don't. Good riders know that a great saddle pad, if used properly, can help prevent saddle sores from happening. If the horse has physical quirks, such as bony shoulders for example, adjusting the pad before putting the saddle on the horse can prevent that extra pressure from bearing down on the horse's back. In the same way, knowing where someone is sensitive and making allowances for those things can help prevent the rules - and the one holding the reins - from rubbing him or her the wrong way.
• Making sure the rules are fitted to the person - The equipment has to fit the horse properly in order to be effective. There are guidelines to use to make the bridle fit comfortably so the horse isn't in pain all the time, things to remember to make sure the girth doesn't pinch, or the front of the saddle doesn't bear down on the bony part of the shoulders. If you need to awl another hole through a strap to make it fit right, then that's what has to happen. If you need to get someone a special piece of equipment to make his or her life/job/ministry/schoolwork better while still staying within the boundaries of decorum and being considerate of others involved, then that's an investment that needs to be considered seriously.
  
• Keeping the rules from becoming rigid and inflexible - Good riders know the importance of cleaning their tack after every use - at least wiping off the saliva, sweat and dirt with a damp sponge or cloth - and regularly cleaning the saddle and bridle with saddle soap, a sponge and a little water to keep the leather supple, to prevent it from getting brittle and rough. Rough leather rubs against the animal and causes saddle sores faster. In the human application, a good rule of thumb here is "people before things."  Consistently refusing to listen to someone who has a need and a right to be heard and appreciated in a meaningful way, can drive a person to the wrenching decision point of wanting to permanently end the relationship.
• Being open to instruction - Bad riding: continual bump-bump-bumping on top of the horse, yanking at the reins, or flopping the legs around, can cause more friction and more quickly irritate the places where the tack comes in contact with the horse (not to mention irritating the horse itself!); it can also damage the equipment and not make it last as long. This can be fixed if the rider is willing to take lessons and listen to someone who knows more, to benefit from the experience of an expert. In the same way, it's important for the person at the controls to have an extremely rare quality: the capacity to be teachable. Being teachable increases flexibility and benefits both parties; it improves the relationship and helps it last longer and be more enjoyable for all concerned. 

Like all analogies, this one has its limitations, but I think I've drawn enough comparisons to at least provide food for thought. 

Carried along

The landscape was peculiar; rocks and trees jumbled together in a nearly impossible to navigate path before her.  She'd been told that the creatures in the wood could take her to where she wanted to go - but it meant letting go of her need to be in control.  All around her, inside her head, she could hear the voices of those who had urged her to go and stand in this place.  

She pondered her decision.  She could go back.  She could choose the safety of what she'd always known.  Or she could decide to call upon those foreign creatures she'd only heard about, who, surefooted as they were clever, would take her safely there - if she held on tight.  She wondered how they would know how to find her. 

Finally she thought, "Yes.  This is where I would like to go.  I need to find one of those crea-"

Immediately, she felt a gigantic, broad beak darting between her legs from behind, and scooping her up.  She slid on her buttocks, terrified, down the long, narrow, stubbled neck and onto the broad, feathered shoulders.  From atop her perch, the dangerous rocks below looked so far away and she was gripped with a sense of panic.  This was too soon.  This was too high.  She didn't know the way.  And what (God forbid) if she fell off? She slid back a bit, and tucked her legs under its warm wings.

Instinctively she gripped the bird-creature's torso with her legs.  It squawked and began to move, deftly navigating with its sturdy, long legs the sharp rocks that would most certainly kill her if she fell on them from this height. The speed was so much faster than she imagined.  She gulped, and grabbed the base of the wings with her hands to help her balance.

No turning back now.  She leaned forward to compensate for the bird's rapid acceleration, blinking rapidly to release the tears that the wind brought to her eyes.

It was two weeks ago. 

"Yeah, you'll make a good one, that's a great idea!  Why don't you go for it?" this one person urged me. 

I was still unsure, wondering about this scenario or that one.  "You could always ask the 'what if' questions.  You'll never know unless you try." No matter how I tried to escape it, that logic kept coming back.  Finally I decided to at least ask my questions.  They were all answered - patiently. My co-worker didn't push me and respected my right to make a decision on my own. 

Thus began my reluctant induction into the halls of representing my colleagues before management - also known as being a union rep or in the organization's jargon, a steward.  I had no idea what I was getting into.  But I had asked my questions and objection after objection had disappeared.  I was faced with one question - whether I thought I could make a difference to my peers in improving their work atmosphere.  

When I finally decided to 'go for it' - I was surprised at how quickly the wheels started turning after that. I was invited to meeting after meeting - all in the space of a few weeks.  It was all a little - well, not quite overwhelming, but almost.  My short description, above, describes many of the sensations I felt.  

This is way outside my comfort zone.  I am not by nature a confrontational person; I know some who thrive on it ... but I am not one of them.  Having to "raise concerns" before people who have the right to have me dismissed, is all a bit much for me.  However, I am confident that what my guides tell me is true, and that we will eventually arrive at our destination.  

I know that this experience will stretch me.  Of course, "stretching" hurts.  I'd briefly (and conveniently) forgotten that.  Yet I have the assurance that this process will give me a unique perspective, help me see the big picture and be involved in some frank discussions with senior executives without fear of reprisal. 

I must admit, that assurance of equality does intrigue me.  I wonder if I'll be able to overcome my fears and act appropriately on behalf of those I represent.  I guess I do need to remember that I'm not in this alone.  I have the support of those stewards who have gone through this before, and I also have the support of my peers.

I know that this is but one more step in becoming all that God has been leading me into the last few years, and that He will continue to be faithful, to be with me, to continue to lead me one step at a time, one day at a time.

I just wonder when - or if - or even where - this particular ride will end.  But I'm willing to give it a go. 

Power to Choose

In the last couple of days I have been thinking about the bad rep that God gets. What I mean is that He gets blamed for a whole lot of stuff that people choose to do, whether done by the ones who say they believe in Him ... or not.  

Found through Google Images at
http://indianajones.wikia.com/wiki/False_Grail

I am a self-admitted Indiana Jones fan.  Especially the first and third movies.  There are so many images in those films that are supremely symbolic - they remind me of important lessons that often get either overlooked or pooh-poohed. There is such a thing as right and wrong. There are things that are beyond our understanding.  Actions have consequences.    And people are responsible for their own actions. 

One poignant scene is the one in "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade" where Donovan, the bad guy, gets dibs on choosing a cup from which to drink the water from the fountain of youth.  The knight warns both Indy and Donovan to choose wisely, for only when the water is in the Holy Grail does it bring life to the drinker. The same water in a false Grail will bring death.  With the help of an expert, he chooses a beautiful chalice which he deems "befitting the King of kings" - and drinks.  The results are not pretty (click here to see this classic clip and I hope you've turned up the volume; the video will open in a new window).  Some call this scene funny or corny.  For me, it's a reminder.


When Indy chooses the correct Grail, things are not suddenly sunshine and roses for him either.  Yes, he doesn't die - and yes, he's able to save his dad's life as well.  But his struggles are not over either.  Neither are his temptations to choose poorly.

We were created with the ability to choose, something upon which God places a great deal of value.  We could have been automatons, but what would have been the point? He wanted us to WANT Him. 

Sometimes bad stuff happens to us and there seems to be no reason for it.  Bad things - and good things, for that matter - do happen to ALL people.  But much of the bad stuff that happens to us is of our own making.  Many of us make bad choices and the consequences are ... let's say they're unpleasant. The irrevocable law of the harvest, "You reap what you sow," kicks in.  The tendency we have at those times is to question God, to question His goodness or His love, when in fact it is our own choices that have led to the outcomes and ... God is just a handy scapegoat we use to avoid taking responsibility for "choosing poorly." I've heard people do it all the time: blame God for for famines and poverty, for wars, for religious persecution. But in most cases whatever horrible thing for which folks blame God arises out of a poor choice, or a series of poor choices, made by people who have the power to choose.

That 1989 movie reminds me that choosing wisely MIGHT bring consequences I might not like.  Yet it is still preferable to choosing poorly. 

God. with skin on.

I was at a gathering once (not church) where someone shared about a difficult experience that was recent, wrenching, and very fresh.  He said at the end, "I guess I just need God ... with skin on."  And he hung his head, ashamed at the tears that stung his eyes.  Immediately, one or two people closest to him went over to him and hugged him as he broke down and sobbed.  With it came the realization that this is truly the physical manifestation of the presence of God - and his healing could begin.  

God.  With skin on.  That statement has stuck with me as being a perfect description that breaks past the platitudes of "Yeah God loves ya and we love ya too", puts its shoes on, rolls up its sleeves, and actually means something.  

Sometimes the load is too much for one person to carry.  Sometimes there's so much stuff that folks just feel overwhelmed ... and someone comes along and just lends a hand for a while to help them.  Even if it costs.  Even if it hurts.  

The trick is in knowing when helping is a response to the white knight syndrome or actually backing up statements of love.  Motivation is key.  

About a week ago, I put out a request - using two different avenues - for some help for a friend (who's recovering from a couple of fractures to the back and ribs) who needed help moving into an apartment.  No response. Nada. Even though some of those same people had promised two weeks previous that if there was anything they could do, just let them know.  Hm.  

Finally, last night, after an unforeseen delay of 3 hours, the moment came and ... nobody showed up.  We got a frantic call from my friend at suppertime, telling us the situation.  I sent out a final, urgent plea for assistance before we went out the door to help them, gave the address.  Nobody came.  

(note - dated Sunday, Oct 2 :  discovered that those people didn't get the notes I sent - if at all - until 10:30 p.m. Saturday night, a full 24 hours after we finished moving the last box into our friends' apartment...partly because some were trying to stay away from facebook and partly because I only sent an email to the church and no courtesy copies to the pastors.  My bad!!!)

You can bet that she and her spouse (and we) were disappointed at the time.  We helped them ourselves; the children volunteered too - and even at that, it took way longer than it should have, and caused more pain and exhaustion for all the participants, because it was extremely physically demanding. My friend ignored my warnings to not go up and down those stairs carrying anything more than pillows and other light-weight stuff.  Stairs nearly kill me, so after several trips carrying boxes, bags and assorted containers up those stairs and feeling like I was going to have a heart attack, I decided to keep her occupied in the apartment.  

She and I busied ourselves re-arranging the smaller items / boxes coming into the apartment, making paths for people to carry the large and/or heavy belongings into the general area where they would eventually rest.  Her hubby and mine worked like Trojans - and so did our kids. My hubby is 59 and has high blood pressure - by the end of the third hour he was sweating profusely, nauseous, seeing black spots before his eyes, and having chest pain (said his lungs were on fire).  But he pushed through.  There was nobody else to help, and the truck rental company was waiting for its vehicle; as it was, the truck got taken back over four hours after the deadline. It took all of us, sore, exhausted and sweaty, nearly 5 hours to completely unload the 5-ton truck and get the contents up three flights of stairs.

I guess we are "nobody", according to the little story I heard once.  

Everybody, Somebody, Anybody, and Nobody were members of a group.

 There was an important job to do and Everybody was asked to do it.

 Everybody was sure that Somebody would do it.

 Anybody would have done it, but Nobody did it.

 Somebody got angry because it was Everybody’s job.

 Everybody thought Anybody would do it, but Nobody realized that Anybody wouldn’t do it.

 It ended up that Everybody blamed Somebody, when Nobody did what Anybody could have done.

It might have been nice for God to have shown up.  With skin on.  

Or - perhaps He did.

Right Rude

Sometimes my new discoveries in recovery take up so much of my attention that I seem to forget about my manners in my growing new sense of confidence and dedication to a lifestyle of rigorous honesty.  Someone asked me the other day, "So, if you're learning to love yourself enough to set boundaries ... you have to be rude to people?"


Hm.  It's worth examination.  

Often, when a person starts setting limits and saying no to people who are used to the old way of interacting with him or her, it is perceived as being rude, or blunt, or even 'hanging onto the past.'  It's hard to explain what finding one's voice for the first time in one's life means to someone who has never stood up for him or herself before.  And yes, sometimes to set boundaries it's necessary to be somewhat forceful - because family members and longtime friends might not 'get it' right off the bat. And it's a never-ending learning process; sometimes I go too far and other times, not far enough.  The results let me know which is which.  If I listen to God instead of going off on a tangent ... I might be able to determine just how much is enough.  Or when to remain silent and be thought a fool.

As a general rule though, there are a lot of myths out there about what kind of behavior is acceptable.  A lot of misconceptions exist surrounding what certain things mean.

Take the common expression, "Forgive and forget."  Some people think that this forgetting is part of forgiving.  Let me assure you from experience (not only from a lifetime of that kind of thinking but more recently from experiencing true forgiveness) that it doesn't necessarily follow.  I can forgive someone for abusing me but it doesn't mean that I will go to that person with arms open and eyes tight shut and place myself in a position to be abused again. That would be insanity!  

Using a more day-to-day example, if someone consistently crosses the same line (let's say, being super-pushy and manipulative) over and over again, that person can be forgiven, yes.  But that same person must also be told what is wrong, and allowed to bear the natural consequences of his or her own actions; if not, he or she might never come to an understanding that the behavior is unacceptable.  Part of that equation is not trusting the person to not repeat the pattern.  

Forgiveness does not equal trust; forgiveness is given ... and trust is earned.  

When I set a boundary to protect myself from future hurt, and say "no more" to that person, he or she WILL perceive it as me "holding a grudge."  It's inevitable. This is a natural reaction from someone who wants to maintain the status quo, to continue having a whipping-boy.  Might doesn't make right; bullies must be stopped.  It's okay to say no.  Looking after oneself is not selfish. This is truth that will counter the myth that to be 'nice' one must also be a 'doormat.'  As one person said to me recently, the only people who need a doormat are those with dirty feet.  

It is possible to do the right thing, and still appear to be rude.

I'm sorry - not!

:D
D:

Okay sometimes you just GOTTA laugh.

I just got the weirdest apology from someone. Suffice to say that it left me with the impression that the person didn't really believe they did anything wrong.  But they said they were sorry that I thought they had.  Oh, that's rich. (:->)  Anyway, I'm just glad that the person got the message...and respected a boundary I set.


But it got me to thinking about all the non-apology apologies I've heard.

Let's see.


According to Wikipedia,"An example of a non-apology apology would be to say "I'm sorry that you felt insulted" to someone who has been offended by a statement. This apology does not admit that there was anything wrong with the remarks made, and, additionally, it insinuates that the person taking offense was excessively thin-skinned or irrational in taking offense at the remarks in the first place."


Okay so how many non-apology apologies have you heard (or given)?  I can list a few to get you started:


The 'obfuscated' apology:  "I know that you believe you understand what you think I said, but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant."


The backhanded apology: "I'm sorry your feelings got hurt." (i.e., what I said/did wasn't wrong; you are too sensitive.  This is like the one wikipedia cited.)

The "you-should-have-known-better" apology:  "What in the world were you thinking?  of course I didn't mean to hurt anyone!"  (This one doesn't even say the words, "I'm sorry.")

The "please make excuses for me" apology:  "Oh I'm sorry.  I was in such a bad mood."  (And yes, I used to use this one a LOT.)


The "guilt trip" apology:  (I got this a lot growing up).  "I am so sorry.  I must be such a rotten [mother/friend/sister/brother _____(fill in the blank)___.] I try and try to be a good ____(again, fill in the blank)____ but I guess nobody appreciates that...."  Another version of this one is, "But I was only trying to HELP..."


Or the no-words apology (I'm still sometimes guilty of this one) - buying the person something or doing something really nice for them to make it up to them... but never saying the words because... it's uncomfortable.


Okay, now that I've gotten the creative juices flowing - what IS a real apology?


I believe that it is when you recognize that the actions or words you have done have hurt another, whether you meant them to or not.  It carries with it the idea that you don't want to hurt them again, and that you will take concrete steps to avoid that happening in the future because you care about them.

So, here's an example of a real apology (if it comes from the heart):  "I am so very sorry for what I said.  I didn't know that it hurt you.  How can I keep from doing that again?"

It's personal

Everyone who knows me really well (hint, REALLY well) knows that I give great hugs.

I'm warm, generous, and loving.

But if I don't know you very well, don't expect me to hug you. It'll happen - in rare situations where I might feel especially close to a perfect stranger to me.  But on the whole, I'm just not that kinda girl.  And please don't touch me before asking my permission.

The average personal space for someone in North American society is about a two-foot radius all around.  Normal people have this private bubble around them that is the same size all the way around.  There's a reason that there's an expression "at arm's length" because that's about the distance that is at the limit of comfortable for most folks. (An interesting aside is that in Asian and Middle Eastern cultures, where the population is larger and the culture far more group-oriented, the personal space bubble is a LOT smaller.)


People who are quite private have a larger personal space than people who are primarily social.  It can vary as much as a foot in radius!  And those people who come from abusive backgrounds, or who have spent prolonged time in a war zone (such as is often the case with military personnel) have an expanded personal space.  It could be as much as four feet out in front.  And invariably, for such folks, the bubble is larger behind than it is in front. Mine is about 3 feet or so in front, and about 3.5 to 4 feet in back.

Even though it's invisible, it's just as real as the walls of one's house are, and sometimes I wish it came with a sign: [PRIVATE PROPERTY.  
NO TRESPASSING!!] 

I know a couple of people who are very uhmmm, "hands-on" with people.  They have to be touching the person that they're with. They (mistakenly) believe that all touch is therapeutic.  (shudder!!) 

When someone does that with me, my skin starts to feel as though it has snakes or insects crawling all over it.  It's very uncomfortable for me.  I just want to yell at them and tell them to LAY OFF!!  

My body yells at them - but they don't seem to get the message.  First I fold my arms or bring my arms or hands close to the front of me.  Then, I start to stiffen up. Or I  back away...if that's possible. Yet these people always seem to find a way to rub my back while they're talking to me - or my shoulder, or my arm. I just want the floor to open up and swallow me!  These enforced "let's go around and hug everyone we meet" sessions that are popular in my church and many others' churches - to me are torture for 2 reasons.  The scent issue is one - and this is the other: forced intimacy.  It's a form of assault ...in a way.  I like to have the freedom of choice whether or not to give someone else permission to touch me, let alone hug me.  Like Geraldine (of Flip Wilson fame) my motto is, "You don't KNOW me well enough to touch me!"  It's like someone walking into your house without even knocking.  Only a select few get to do that (which is why I always knock, even when visiting friends).  Not people who (for all intents and purposes) are complete strangers.

Of course once I DO know you better, you will find that I'm quite affectionate.  And that affection will be shared - with your permission - quite freely.

:D 

Our God is too small

I found this (oh so adorable) video on Youtube.

Watch and listen...

J. B. Phillips wrote a book called "Your God is Too Small" - I remember reading it a very long time ago; it's probably out of print by now. He made a valid point. Often we tend to create God in the image of some authority figure in our lives. As a result, we start thinking of God as this big super-human - with foibles and faults just like us, including the tendency to jump on our case when we mess up, or (alternatively) say, "There, there dear," and ignore it when we rebel against everything He stands for.

Our God is really SO unbelievably, indescribably BIG. To quote the hymn-writer, Perfect in power, in love and purity.

If He wasn't, He wouldn't be God!!

Now let's consider this video - and let faith leap up in our hearts.