Standing up

The last year or so - at least the non-employment part - has been devoted to finishing my first year of a 3.3-year online Master's program in Counselling, which is designed to be taken by people who are working full-time and can't take 2 years off to go back to school. It's been a time of great learning and stretching of opinions, beliefs, and skills to the point where I wonder how I managed to survive this many years without some of the things I have only learned in the last year.  The experience has been nothing less than transformational. In many ways, it has been like I was taking life sitting down ... and now I am starting to stand up.

The first half of the school year was more about learning how to write to the standards expected of a graduate student in psychology, and to how to think critically (not to criticize but to examine the evidence and form informed opinions) about what I was reading.  I learned that I had opinions and that I would not be judged for them as long as I could back them up with hard evidence.  I found my voice; I learned that in my writing, I could start standing up. 

Then came the hard stuff!  

In the next course on infusing culture into counselling, I learned about the various non-dominant groups in Canada. We discussed various races, sexual orientations, faiths/beliefs, and physcial / mental abilities ... and we learned something about what each group experiences as discrimination by the dominant (that is, white, male, Judeo-Christian, able-bodied, and heterosexual) group.  I learned that just because a group is fewer in population does not make it a minority. In many places in Canada, whites are in the minority but are still dominant in the culture of that society: they hold the power and the privilege that being white (and / or Christian, male, heterosexual) affords them.  The course challenged (and yes, changed) many of my long-held beliefs and prejudices, and highlighted for me the privileges from which I had benefited all my life and of which I had been unaware.  It gave me a new appreciation for the reasons why so many non-dominant groups seem to be so militant and vocal about their plights.  And it opened my eyes in particular to the Canadian cultural genocide committed throughout the 1930s into the latter part of the 20th century:  the residential school system.  I have rarely been as horrified as I was by reading first-hand accounts of what happened to attempt to rid Canadian society of what was considered to be "the Indian problem."  It was just like reading the diaries of those Jewish people, or Jewish sympathizers, or homosexuals, who were sent to the concentration camps in Nazi Germany. Only ... it happened HERE.  In Canada.  That experience of learning in detail about these home-grown atrocities marked me forever.

Photo "Women Discussing Something Casually"
courtesy of stockimages at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

In the following courses on the more hands-on aspects of counselling, my practical skills were next to be targeted.  I learned that I already knew how to do what I would be doing for the rest of my professional life, but that I needed to be able to do it naturally and without having to stop and think about it.  The courses culminated in a three-week intensive face-to-face session in a city that was 3,000 miles away from my home, and at an altitude of over 3,000 feet above what I was used to living at.  I had my first taste of living on my own.  Parts of it were not too bad, and other parts (being away from my loved ones, for example) were abysmal.  Yet professionally, with practice at doing what I had wanted to do since the beginning, I was able to put the things I was learning into practice and watch myself not only do it, but do it well. My confidence grew in leaps and bounds.  Often I wanted to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming all of this!

But there was more; there IS more than just this one tiny piece of academia.  I have been learning some things about myself that I needed to learn, and that I have needed to learn for a very long time.  Some of these have been positive things about my own competencies and my own character - hence the increase in my confidence level especially over the last month. I have been learning that I have the right to stand up and to be counted among people whom I have just sat back and admired up until now.  It's a good feeling. It's new, and a bit strange perhaps, but it's good. 

And a few things that I have been learning about myself have been downright horrible.  These are painful lessons to be sure ... and things I will need to work on ... not just by myself but (I believe) they are things that will need to be addressed in therapy, since they are deeply ingrained in who I am, and in how I have come to define myself.  One of these things is my life-long terror of being abandoned, which has led me to become a chameleon with people, changing into the person I thought they wanted me to be, just so that they would like me. This has consistently had a domino effect on my relationships, because I can only sustain the chameleon colouring for so long. So, the pressure builds and builds as I deny my personhood and refrain from complaining so as to be around certain types of people, and then I explode! I therefore end up badly hurting their feelings when I overcompensate (in trying to practice self-care) to recover from the situation I created myself by just not being myself.  

That's just one of those things I am learning that will need to be addressed ... and changed. In a way, it is like I (because of fear) have been unable to stand up in the everyday situations of my life and relationships, and when I finally do stand up, it's suddenly, and without clear warning, and something (or someone) usually gets knocked down and could be irreparably damaged.  So I need help in not only standing up sooner in those situations, but in HOW to do that so that nobody gets hurt - including me.  

That's a lot of growing in just one year.  I know that in the year to come, I will grow even more, which I will need to do ... because after that, I will be starting to officially help people to find their own places of growth and healing.  It would kind of help to be able to do that from a place of mental wellness.  In essence, I need to learn how to stand up before I can sit down across from those who need help standing up themselves.

Moving on

The last time I wrote on Words That Stay, it was not long after losing our youngest child in a car crash. Even though life turned topsy-turvy in short order (!!) I found strength in love and faith ... serenity, and yes, courage to accept the things I could not change. Now, life changes rapid pace, and throws more curve balls at us. The university I was attending turned out not to be accepted by my province's counsellor's registration board (a fact that was downplayed by the university, hmmm). Which meant that I had to stop my studies in August 2014, and start from scratch somewhere else - and the place that worked out for me wasn't accepting new registrations for that academic year, but for the next one.

Further delays.

So, swallowing my pride, I applied in January for a September 2015 intake, and their decision will soon be made .. within the next couple of weeks. If accepted, the program will take 3.3 years. That's a long old road.

But, it will be slightly slower-paced, require more practicum hours (more means a better quality graduate, haha) and be way better on the cash flow (always good).

I've also been moving forward in other areas of my life (such as getting much-needed medical attention rather than "suffering through it" for a physical issue, and paying more attention to my mental health), and letting other things lapse. I've been releasing ambitions I once had that take up too much energy and cause me more stress than they're worth. I've been standing up for myself a bit more, as hard as that is!! And I'm slowly accepting the fact that not everyone has to like me and that I'm no less important just because someone doesn't like me (this is a HUGE step forward). 

Photo "Black Board" by
bulldogza at
www.freedigitalphtos.net

I'm learning again and again that friendship is something very precious, and that you don't surround yourself with people who are toxic to you or who don't understand you, no matter how much they say they care. 

This applies even if the label they say they wear is the same as the one you say you wear. It also applies to those who think they have a right to have a say because they're "family." 

Regardless of the calling card that makes someone think that I am just like him or her, or that we have a common history or affiliation, I'm learning that trust is earned and that not everyone is trustworthy. These are hard lessons to learn for someone who (at the core) is an idealist. 

I'm learning that I can trust my Higher Power to keep my confidences, to listen to me, to care about me and to go before me to prepare my path, whatever that path is. 

I'm learning to prioritize the goals that I have and to reach and work for those which are most important to me. All these things I feel I should have learned so long ago; yet, I am learning them now - which is better than never learning them at all. 

A fresh slate in the school of life is humbling, but it's also full of possibility. I wonder what possibilities are around THIS corner...

Accepting change

I've not written on "Words That Stay" in almost a year, mostly because life keeps throwing new things at me and I've been a lot more busy than I've ever been.

The last year has brought many things. I am looking at celebrating five years in recovery on February 28. It's amazing to think of how my life has transformed in that short space of time. I am so grateful because the "recovery lifestyle" I learned, and am still learning, has been responsible for everything that is good and special in the last five years, even during the hard times.

In May or June 2013, I decided to go back to school and get my certification to become a counselor, and in September I started my graduate program at an online university, where I spend at least 25 hours a week reading, doing assignments and participating in class discussions. When I'm not at school I am at work, working full-time, or at church, and occasionally at a recovery meeting.

In the middle of all of that, my youngest daughter moved away from home, tried to make a new start, and in a twist of events that can only be described as tragic, was killed in a car crash in late October, just as she was starting to turn her life around. She was 21.

I know she would have wanted me to keep on with my studies, because she was so proud of me for going back to school ... even though school was never a place where she herself felt safe. So instead of dropping out, or even taking a break, I continued on in her honor. I miss her so very much, but I can feel her encouragement when I am tired, and her joy when I get a good mark. It's like I have my own unseen cheerleader. ☺ ♥ 

The addition of grad school to my already-full schedule means that life is much busier. It's true that I'm spending just as much of my at-home time on the computer as I did before; it's just that now, I'm doing it because I have to, for school. So, my writing has taken a back seat for a while. Blogging has become something I do when I need to take a break from my schedule, or when I have gotten a little bit ahead on my studies. 

Photo "Winding Road" courtesy of pixbox77 at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Change was never something I felt comfortable with. Not knowing what was beyond the next bend in the road was (and still is, to some extent) frightening. I like to have things predictable, and the events of the last year have really stretched me in that way. What I'm learning is that the only thing that stays the same is the fact that things change - and they can change in a split second. 

And it's not just events that change. Attitudes, thoughts, beliefs, knowledge, ... they all change, develop, evolve. As I've been studying more about counseling, I have been pushed to examine how I see people, how I see the world, and how I see myself. I've been challenged to accept people, to accept that there are different ways of thinking, and especially to accept change. 

My world is expanding. Things I never could see myself doing before ... I find myself actually doing, and liking. Things like listening to people, taking an interest in their stories, and letting them talk out their own solutions to their problems are all part of what is brand new territory for me. Oh, to be sure, I've done some of those things with my friends, but now I find that my skills are developing and so is my interest in more than just my own little world. I no longer have the luxury of being a spectator as the universe passes me by. I find that I have a part to play in that grand scheme of things - and as terrifying as that is, it is also quite exhilarating. 

Instead of railing at change (as I once did, kicking and screaming as I was dragged into it) I am learning to face it and accept it with the attitude that if it's happening, there must be some purpose for it. Usually I can see the benefit in it, as long as I'm honest with myself, open to whatever I'm being taught, and willing to take that first step. 

I guess it all boils down to faith, really. Do I believe that the intentions of my Higher Power toward me are good? Am I willing to put my trust in that, to lean my full weight onto that goodness? Or am I just going to shut down and cut myself off from all of the opportunities that He has placed in my path - cleverly disguised as challenges? As long as I trust His motives, I can accept change. Even embrace it.

Besides, I'm kind of wondering what's around that next bend in the road.

A Safe Place to Be

Recently, I marked four years in recovery. The day came and went, and all day that day I thought about how my life had changed in those four years. 

Tonight, I sat in a recovery room among friends - one where I hadn't been for far too long. When I walked in, I recognized a couple of people, and their faces (and mine) lit up when we saw each other. A grin, a wave, and a feeling of being loved, of those that were there being glad that I was there. I had not attended this group last week because of last-minute things, and had promised then that I would be at this Tuesday's meeting. 

And, even though there was another event that came up - I kept my promise to go and celebrate my recovery - to surprise those who were in attendance (only one other person was in the know) by accepting my four-year medallion. Amid the spontaneous applause and the hugs and handshakes came a feeling of true friendship, true fellowship.

Belonging.

The outpouring of love and happiness was palpable. These people had seen me at my worst. They'd seen me through some tough times, and they'd watched me grow. Now they were here around me to offer their congratulations and support for this new lifestyle I was living, a lifestyle that many of my former acquaintances - and even some family members - were less than thrilled about.  

My eyes brimmed up with gratitude. 

"Happy Family" courtesy of
photostock at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

I stayed while the discussion opened up and folks talked about one thing and another, encouraging growth by sharing their experience, strength, and hope with each other. There's nothing complicated about it. A recovery group - if if follows the principles of the 12 steps - is a safe place to be. You are free to really be yourself, to have fears, doubts, and triumphs: there is no judgment, there is no advice, and there are no agendas. Just acceptance. 

After I left the meeting room, I had another meeting to go to for a drama our church is putting on.  This one took place in a totally different atmosphere, but again, when I walked through the door, I was recognized by several in attendance; the nods and smiles, the waves and even a few hugs - as the meeting progressed - gave me that same sense of being loved, valued. The atmosphere (as I mentioned) was far more busy because everyone was milling around trying to find out what their role was going to be, but I felt like I was part of the group, not apart from it. 

That sense of belonging, of acceptance, was worth a great deal to me. It still is.

The theme song from a popular sitcom years ago is running through my head right now and has been ever since those two experiences. The last line of the theme song goes, "You wanna go where people know that people are all the same; you wanna go where everybody knows your name." (Where everybody knows your name - Cheers) 

That safe place to be ... is priceless. Everyone needs it; not everyone finds it. 

There may be folks who might take that for granted because - well, I don't know - because they're outgoing and because the social thing is easy for them. It's quite another for someone like me (introverted, socially awkward) to find such a place of safety. To find it in more than one place - well, that's unheard of. 

One might even consider it a miracle.  This "one" sure does.

Let Go - Let God

It hangs in just about every recovery room I have been in. Along with several other slogans, like "First Things First" and "Honesty" and "Humility" .... there it sits.

"LET GO - LET GOD." 

I used to think I knew what that meant. I guess, to a certain degree, I did (and do). However, the further I get into recovery from control-freaking and doormat-itis, the more I am convinced that I don't know what it is, because it appears I have to keep learning it. 

"Anchor and Navigation" courtesy of njaj at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Or maybe it's just something that comes with practice. If so, I get to practice it. A LOT. 

Especially since getting into recovery nearly 4 years ago now. Stuff happens, and I'm allowed to feel what I feel - that part I'm getting, so it's not such a stretch for me anymore (even if it is pretty tumultuous at times!)  It's the "letting go" part that's never easy ... and the "letting God" part seems just as hard now as it was the first time!! 

However, the depth of experience I have been getting in that area convinces me that this letting go and letting God is the only way to navigate the storms of life, to ride them out, maybe even to be a little happier. I'm learning to own my own stuff and let others own theirs. That's sometimes really hard to do, especially when the current attitude and expectation of our society toward certain types of relationships (such as the parent-child one) tends to front-end-load them with a feeling of responsibility for the way someone else thinks or feels. 

It's an illusion. How someone else reacts to their stuff is not my responsibility. The outcome I want in his or her life is not my responsibility. It's the responsibility of the person with whom I am in relationship. If I hang on - even a little bit - I will end up pushing the person away from the very thing I so desperately want him or her to embrace. 

I know this - deep down. 

I guess I just need more practice.

Wisdom to Discern

It's wonderful to see the transformation in me when I am given the serenity to accept what (and who) I cannot change. It is like ripples in a pond - others are automatically touched when I've found my center and grow in my relationship with myself and with God. 

It's amazing what can happen in my attitudes and interpersonal relationships when God grants me the courage to change the things I can change. 

But discernment ... knowing what things I can change and what things I cannot - that's a bit trickier. Often I spin my wheels trying to change the realities of life because I think I can control them. I can't. I never could. That's why I pray for wisdom. 

Wisdom is one of those "don't-leave-home-without-it" gifts. Everyone has probably heard the story of Solomon, who was considered the wisest man who ever lived. When he became king, God came to him in a dream and told him that he could ask for one thing, and it would be given to him. Solomon's response was one of humility, teachability. "I don't know how to lead this great people. I'm just a kid! Please give me wisdom, so that I can tell what is the right thing to do and what isn't, so that I can lead Your people well." (Judy's paraphrase version.)  Because Solomon asked for wisdom, and not for fame or for riches, God gave him what he asked and then some more beside! Over and over again in the Proverbs, wisdom is the principal theme of Solomon's writings. Plus, it is the one thing in the New Testament that we are promised will be given to anyone freely every time if we ask God for it. (See James 1:5) 

Pinging along from crisis to crisis isn't necessary. When I take the time to ask God for wisdom to know what to do, for direction to decide which way to go, whether to accept what is, or to change something, or even whether to stand still and wait - (hardest. thing. ever.) - and I actually listen for the answer, He opens the door or doors through which I am to go, or provides a place of peace for me to rest. It's uncanny.  

Rainbows remind me
to trust

 A wonderful friend of mine, whom I admire a lot, has - on occasion - called me a wise person. It's high praise and I take it as such ... but the wisdom doesn't come from me; it's a gift. So when she calls me wise, and because I know myself enough to see how far there is yet to go, it reminds me how much I have yet to learn, to apply in my life. And it gives me another gift: a good dose of humility, because I know that without God, I'd be messing up big time. All the time. I know because that's what happens on every occasion when I think I can handle things by myself without any help from Him.

I can't.

Dependence on God (which I've always considered to be the "fear of the Lord" or respect for His wisdom and the fact that He knows all things and has the final say) for me has been the beginning of wisdom, where it starts. In every circumstance, in every area of my life, in every decision with which I am faced, I can ask for wisdom, and it will be given to me, just the right amount at the right moment. 

All I need to do is listen for the answer,  quiet my mind's screaming meamies, and truly expect direction. It will come.  It always comes.

Every time.

Courage to change

I pray the Serenity Prayer. A LOT. 

Sometimes - when I have been struggling with someone else's decisions impacting on my life - I even pray the codependent's version of it: "God, grant me the serenity to accept the people I cannot change, the courage to change the person I can, and the wisdom to know it's me."

Acceptance of things I can't change is one thing.  I talked about that in my last post on this blog.

The other side of the coin, and one which still is a challenge for me just as much as acceptance ever was, is courage to change what I can. 

My responsibility is to work on myself, on my relationship with myself, on my relationship with God, on my relationships with other people. My responsibility - my realm, so to speak - is to concentrate on knowing and being true to my true self.  Not the facade that I am sometimes tempted to dig out and put on, but the real me - the one I am becoming for what is probably the first time in my life. . . at least that I can remember. 

Changing involves hard work - and most of all, courage. 

I find it really interesting that we get the word "courage" from the Latin word for "heart" - in fact, the word "heart" in French (most of which comes from Latin) is cœur. In essence, courage means "heart-fulness." 

That's cool. 

It takes bravery, guts if you will, to live from the fulness of the heart, because the heart can so easily be injured, pierced through with unkindness, rejection, and anger... and so many more things.  

Since I started living this lifestyle of rigorous honesty, of letting go, of being real, ... living from  my heart is one of the main tenets, one of the foundational principles, on which I base my thinking and my decisions.  I pray for courage in my daily life - nearly as much as I pray for serenity. The changes that have come about in my life have been due to having been given the heart-fulness - the courage - to live one day at a time AS ME. Nobody else, no masks or games. I spent the first year of my recovery from being a chameleon, a people-pleaser, a door-mat and a "fixer" ... getting to know that person who I really was, the one who was beneath all the layers of hurt and the walls of self-protection built up over decades of being put down so much that I believed those lies in the core of my being. 

I've said it before and I'll keep saying it ... real healing starts on the inside and goes toward the outside. An exterior change will stay exterior ... and it won't last. I want LASTING transformation. So, I've been focusing on the inside changes - the ones that only those who are closest to me would notice. How I think. How I react to things. What I consider important. What my priorities are. These are the things that will eventually - I believe - show on the outside. It might take some time because the habits of decades take time to reverse. However, they are possible. 

I just need to keep focused on those internal, unseen changes that matter (not the external ones that don't) . . . even when the external ones eventually start showing up.