Humility

Went to a really good meeting this morning. It’s at 8:30 and I was 5 minutes late and had to sit on the floor. It was on humility.

For me humility is;
• Asking for help
• Accepting my humanness
• Not putting on airs
• Living honestly
• Not making things bigger than they are
• The opposite of ego

I am not good at humility. I like the flashy car and dressing to be noticed. This last year has been about stripping away my ego and leaving me as the soccer mom in the Volvo wagon with the smelly chocolate lab in the back. It’s about not trying so hard to be liked. You either like me or you don’t. I have no control over that. It’s like trying to get a drunk to not drink or a cheater to not cheat – that’s all way beyond my control. Besides, that’s god’s job.

I chatted with a girl after the meeting and agreed to be her sponsor. She’s super cute.

Then I went off and worked – drove to Bum F*** to get photos of a house. Then chatted w a kid about getting back on track with his loan.

It was gorgeous today. Bright and warm in the afternoon.

Rebel and I went for a long walk along Katy trail and then watched the sunset from a bluff overlooking Reverchon Park. We sat way up high in the trees and watched the red sun as it dipped behind the buildings in the distance. Then we walked back along Turtle Creek and Rebel had to go swimming – it’s a lab thing.

I worked for a few hours tonight and have an assignment due by 3pm tomorrow – but, I’ll finish that up after church tomorrow. Now it’s time to lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. Amen and God Bless You.

A Convenient Little Lie

I was up all night. She needed for someone to listen. She was desperate. She was lost and she hadn't told anyone else what was going on. She was finally letting it out.

My girlfriend is super cute. I call her the bombshell. She's smart, funny, super big heart. She will bend over backward to help you. She loves her mother and her mother drives her crazy. She just wants to be loved for real. She's been in a physically and emotionally abusive relationship for the last 6 years.

It brings up all my craziness from 1993, the year I started a new business, got a divorce, bought a house, the house burnt down and I was with an abusive man that I figured would kill me by the time I was 34, just like my mom.

Abuse is a family disease. It runs in my family. My aunt was murdered by an ex-boyfriend. My mom was murdered by my dad. I figured it was my lot in life to be murdered by my boyfriend, too. I mean, who am I to be any different.

My childhood home was abusive. It was normal to fight in front of the kids. During dinner. After church. My parent's room was downstairs and it was dark and scary. Strange bumping and cries were heard outside the closed door. We never talked about the bruises. We never talked about the drinking glass that was hurled at my mom so hard that the glass embedded in the wall behind her.

When I was in third grade we left. It was the middle of the school year. I was 7 and I was her best friend. I was the one who distracted and diffused his anger. She told me that he had strangled her and threatened to kill her. I love my mom more than anything and I hated this 210 pound monster that smiled as he pulled the belt from his waist. I had fantasies about sneaking into their room at night. While he was asleep I would take my baseball bat and smash his head in before he could wake up. I had to be quiet and I had to have good aim. And I felt deep shame about those thoughts because he was my dad.

Instead of going to school that day, we left. We packed the green Volkswagen bus and, looking out the front window, she cried for the three days we drove to my grandmother's house. I remember laying in the back of the darkened bus, my brother and sisters sleeping around me. Road noise, streetlights flashing above my head and the sounds of my mother sobbing.

She stayed for the kids. At least that's what she told herself. It's a convenient little lie. It takes away all responsibility.

It took her another year to get up the courage to leave. A year of therapy, a year of getting a job and a year of admitting she was in an abusive relationship.

Practice Humility

I have this nasty little monster. The one that wants to look better than everyone else. The one that judges other people and then "notices" how much better I do/wear/know things. The one that looks at a suitor's car before I will go out with him.

This part of me thinks it's protecting me. It thinks that if I just figure it out then I'll be able to make the "correct" choice. It's the part of me that wants to avoid pain - all pain - at any price.

Now, this is not to say that I am a masochist and enjoy pain - though there was that one relationship that seemed to be mostly pain - but, I think there is good pain and bad pain.

Good pain, you say, are you kidding?

During the school year of sixth grade one of my friends gained close to six inches in height. He went from being the shrimp to a big awkward young man over the course of the year. I remember him rubbing just below his knees and complaining about his "growing pains". That was what his doctor had labeled them. The pain was from growing too quickly.

To me, this is good pain. When I am working on myself and recognizing my defects and admitting my mistakes, it's really hard. I want to look good so admitting my deepest darkest fears is scary. It's being vulnerable. It's being courageous. It's growing me. It's good pain.

Then there's the pain of hiding. The pain of staying in my little box. Doing what I've always done because I can look good doing it. The pain of self judgment, criticism and comparing my insides with your outsides. The pain that makes my life smaller and smaller until I disappear.

This self pain is the pain I learned from my family. The pain that I continued to perpetuate on myself even when my parents and grandparents were gone. There is no growth in it. No one wins and everyone loses. This is what I consider "bad pain".

The monster has lived with the bad pain for so long that it's familiar, it's known, it says "oh, that's just life".

This monster, my ego, is always what creates the pain. When I let go of the monster, the pain goes away and what is is.

Simple really. As long as I remember that it is what it is, that nasty monster loses it's power over me and I remember that what is is actually pretty darn good today.

Humility. A novel approach to life.

Lessons of '08

1) Practice Humility – In all things.
2) Efficiency – I was amazed at how many “extras” I had padded into my lifestyle. I was able to whittle away about 50% of my expenses with little change in lifestyle.
3) I have always had everything I needed. Even now, in my Dallas apartment, I am loved and comfortable and challenged and happy.
4) Happiness is a choice that I make every day.
5) Whatever I focus on, I become. Focus on the crap, I become crap. Focus on the beauty, I become beauty.
6) People don’t love me for my things, they love me for who I am and the way I make them feel.
7) Love the person, hate the behavior.
8) Play full out.