I’m not standing at the top of any mythical mountain, looking down at the rest of humanity, wondering when or if they’ll catch up to me. I used to be that guy. Secretly.
Out of the gate, I want to make clear that I’m aware—deeply aware—that the journey of healing only ends when the body does.That said, I also know that healing can come from a deeper well. Let me explain myself.
Recently I noticed my mind skip into a certain pattern of disgruntlement with someone. I recognized a deep desire to not live with someone who forced me to do more unnecessary work, and my mind was racing with an ultimatum… him or me.
The absolute misery this would have brought, had I believed the thought in the first place! It would have torn apart an entire family just to appease my ego. Fortunately, I recognized the trap—the utter insanity of this knee-jerk reaction.
I realized that the manufactured feelings and thoughts were being driven forward by some need for control. We’ll call this ‘need’ rather infantile. And with modern neuroscience at the forefront of my mind (no, I’m not a neuroscientist, I just appreciate its elegant findings), I further noted that ‘control’ is one of the major illusions we labor under.
I think it’s what returns me to the process time and again: being unhappy with X factor and wanting to resolve it with Radical Y Factor. I believe the young people might refer to the interim, the tantrum phase of this, as crashing out.
Had I forced an ultimatum on my spouse—him or me, you choose—and stuck to that unfortunate path, I would have been creating untold miseries: familial and friendly splinters of faith, judgment in good character, and a rupture in my own nature that doesn’t require this level of destruction for the sake of feeling whole.
As I watched my mind and my nervous system work themselves into a frenzy, a scantling voice spoke up: This is not the way.
Five words helped me regain my own sense of autonomy.
After all, what was really happening?
I was washing the dishes. Turning off the lights that were left on. The sun was shining. I was still privileged to have food and electricity, and a beautiful house to take care of. I still have a job with benefits. I have a lovely partner—and despite my temporary misgivings (and misplacement of inner judgment), I had a loving person whom I was grumbly at in my life, whom I otherwise enjoy immensely.
Welcome to parenthood.And to the non-necessity of creating abject misery in order to heal from it?
That’s the old me. Been there, done that. And like the saying goes, wherever you go, there you are. Truer words were never spoken.
A couple of thoughts about this.
Earlier I mentioned there’s not much in the way of true individual control at play (thanks, Neuroscience). I believe we labor under the notion that we’re the only ones responsible for our life experience, no matter what that is.
But if you need clarification, there are articles that outline—extensively—the reasons why you’re not absolutely in control of your life, on numerous levels, and due to many factors.Link 1, Link 2, Link 3, Link 4
In the work setting, I set out to tell a co-worker to let me know when or if they thought I wasn’t doing a good job—and he agreed. I agreed. But it was lip service.
And the moment I began noticing him slacking—or what I thought was slacking—I went behind his back and talked about it.
My subconscious was setting up a healing moment.
I’ve had so many healing moments by working with difficult personalities over the years, but never realized my part, my behavior. Because that would have taken even more close self-scrutiny than anyone’s comfortable with.
I’ve alienated people with my behavior in the past—and, of course, with the things I’ve said. I think we all do this when we’re uncomfortable. We’re in a situation with strangers, trying to find our way.
Again, ‘control’ isn’t what you’d imagine it to be.
Anyway—he found out. And as you can imagine, he wasn’t happy. He started doing worse when he saw I’d be working right after him, leaving bigger messes for me to pick up after.
And I deserved that. I just didn’t realize it at the time.
I was playing the victim. I was trying to find that healing moment.It was all unnecessary.
I could have just been an adult and gone to him directly and asked him questions that would help me frame his situation—and ultimately help him. After all, we were meant to be a team.
When I did finally realize my part in his misery (he had other issues he kept to himself that were major contributing factors), I apologized directly and took responsibility.
But even now, we have a strained acquaintanceship.
I can see my part. I can see his part. I accept him fully for who he is.
And that means not just my once-co-worker—but the person I live with, who lives their life out of their own control, which I think causes me grief (but actually doesn’t).
Healing takes time—and introspection.
Learning what my part in all this is helps me craft a better frame around it. It provides me insights into my own mind’s insanity and allows me to breathe past and through the storm more quickly.
Now, when I arrive at work, the waters are calm.When they begin to stir and bubble, I remind myself: this is not the way.