Peace in the Journey (On Being Humbled)

I've been wanting to write for a while, but I haven't because lately, I haven't felt very inspired.  I wrote a post a couple of months ago about being happy, and I'm embarrassed to admit that, once again, I'm not happy.

I keep struggling with the issue of happiness, and every time I write about it, I think that I have the answer, but I don't.  I always seem to think that the next step in my journey is bringing me closer to happiness.  This is something that we all struggle with, I think.  We have been taught that happiness is the destination.  And while I have even tried to instill in the young women I advised and mentored that "It's the journey, not the destination" that counts, I still struggle with the journey.  I still seek that destination.  And for me, that destination equates to happiness.

I thought that if I were in the right place and felt good about my job, I would be happy.  I thought that if men at the very least noticed me, I would be happy.  I thought that if the weather were warmer, I would be happy.  And while some of those things have happened, they still aren't enough. The job is not what I thought it would be, and again, I am learning that because someone is a supervisor or manager, it doesn't mean that person is a leader.  Men do a little more than notice me now, but they're not doing exactly what I want them to, in the way I want them to do it.  The weather is warmer, but the amount of time and energy it takes to get around in this area means more time is spent indoors or in a car than enjoying the weather.  In other words, this is a season in my life where everything is out of my control, and I don't like it.

Found on Facebook

For so long, I have been comfortable.  I was the go-to person at my job.  I knew how to get things done fairly quickly and effectively.  I had settled for an on-again, off-again relationship that gave me the feeling of being loved without the daily sacrifices that one usually makes in a committed relationship.  I arranged my life so that I had as little inconvenience as possible.  I basically made life as easy for myself as possible, challenging myself only to the point where I could pull back easily: take doctoral courses, they get too difficult to manage, take less classes or just take a leave of absence.  Have someone tell me he loves me, that gets too difficult, do or say something to push him away so that I don't have to invest emotional energy.  Move closer to work.  Be friendly, but withdraw or disappear often enough so no one
would actually rely on me for anything.  This comfort I created for myself protected me from being hurt and made me feel almost invincible.  I came off to many as confident, empowered, successful, and smart.

Finally, the facade broke, and I made a decision to jump off the cliff of comfort (I know, corny).  And here I am, in this new place with new people.  I am feeling my way around work, around new relationships, and around this new place that seems to provide everything I need but feels like a mountainous challenge to get to so that I could enjoy it.  I find myself retreating and withdrawing.  I find myself wondering who I really am and if I really am this lovable person that I always seemed to be for the last ten years or so.  I find myself humbled by my experiences - being low on the totem pole at work, my self-confidence misunderstood (and attacked) by some, not being ferociously pursued by a romantic interest.  Every day, it feels as if the person I have been for so long keeps falling away in pieces, leaving someone unrecognizable even to me.  I don't know who I am at the moment.  My support systems have been hiding places for me, and so I don't want to rely on them right now, because I understand that hiding is the same thing as being in control, creating a comfort zone, and remaining safe.

I am not there.  I have not made it.  I am living day by day, moment by moment, feeling intense discomfort and discontent.  I am not there, but I am here.  I know that this part of my journey is meant to take me somewhere I haven't been before.  Maybe I haven't been able to commit because I think I'm a failure at commitment.  Maybe I need to stop thinking that relentlessly intense pursuit is a sign of long-lasting interest.  Maybe it's the little things - small demonstrations of thoughtfulness rather than grandiose romantic gestures - that lead to getting to know someone genuinely and not the image of Prince Charming that has probably sabotaged all of my relationships.  Maybe work isn't the place for me to throw all of my energy into, because in reality, people are more important.  Maybe I need to stop seeing work as a place where I serve the institution or the person I work for, but just as a conduit to serve people in a way that aligns with my purpose.  In other words, I am not there to please those that hired me; I am there to turn on a light for the many people I encounter who cannot see how to achieve their goals.

I am here.  This is just another step in my journey, not my destination.  I am completely out of my comfort zone, feeling emotionally, mentally and spiritually naked.  In this nakedness, I must find peace.  And the peace in this journey, for me, is that this isn't my destination; this is a kind of "threshing floor," a place where negativity can be stripped from me so that I can be made more pure to go into the next step of my journey.

Humility comes as a result of the exposure of ego.  As the negative aspects of my ego are exposed (either through self-awareness or by the actions of others towards me), I am more humbled.  In that humility, I can learn.  As I learn, I am prepared to take the next step.  It's time to let go of the old to receive the new; old mindsets and habits must give way so that I can be prepared to step into a completely new experience.

And isn't that why I turned my own world upside down in the first place?

Revisiting "Happy"

Courtesy of telligent.com

I wrote about the idea of happiness a while ago, and in that post, I stated that happiness is an emotion, or a temporary state.  I've asserted previously that there is a difference between happiness and joy - as I stated, happiness is temporary (and usually provoked by a circumstance), while joy is a lasting state that doesn't necessarily need a specific situation to bring it on.  Happiness comes from without, joy comes from within.  I still think I am right about this, and while I can't really prove it, I know that I have felt the difference between the two.  But I am now coming to a new understanding about happiness and joy, and how the two states of being can work alongside one another.

Over the past few years, I have had numerous people tell me that I wasn't happy, and that they want me to be happy.  Many times, they equated happiness for me with being partnered.  Unfortunately, the very few times that I have been partnered weren't the happiest times in my life.  So I am not sure that being partnered would make me happy, but I do think that the right person in my life will add to my happiness.  That is, if I have some happiness for him to add to.

In my previous post on the topic of happiness, I pretty much insisted that I was happy.  I lied.  I wasn't.

I'd moved to western New York (what most people call "upstate") several times; once for college, once when I was married and my husband basically told me that I was going with him or else, and, once that fell apart - because, hello, too controlling - once more for graduate school.  The final move took place during the time said marriage was falling apart, so no, I was not a happy person, though I am adroit at keeping a smile on my face regardless of the circumstances.  I wasn't one hundred percent sure where life would take me once I'd completed graduate school, but I never thought that I would live in western New York for THIRTEEN years.  THIRTEEN.  So many negative things associated with that number.

Long story short: I really wanted to move to the DMV region (DC/Maryland/Virginia; not the Department of Motor Vehicles, obvs) after grad school (actually, way before that, but I'll get to that later), but I was busy doing a 1,000 hour internship, a 20 hour per week graduate assistantship, writing my Master's thesis, and studying for the National Counselor's Exam while trying to apply for a job.  Well, I applied for one job, and I ended up getting it.  It was a sweet gig, and since the standard of living was low and my credit had taken a beating during grad school, I decided to stay just for a little bit to get back on my feet. That "little bit" turned out to be a longgggggggggg thirteen years.  I hated it there, I knew I hated it, everyone I knew knew that I hated it, and I never felt settled there.  However, I tried to make the best out of a less than ideal situation. I joined a church, a book club, a gym, a library.  I went clubbing for a short period of time, ha ha.  I moved a few times to try to find the "right" feeling.  I was like the Prince in Cinderella, looking for the perfect fit for the glass slipper I was toting around.  It was never right.  No matter what I did or how hard I tried, I felt that something was wrong deep inside of me.

I hated it when people pointed that out, because I was never sure if they understood that I wasn't happy because I was in the wrong place.  It felt like people were accusing me of not being happy, as if I had deliberately chosen unhappiness.  And in some ways, I can admit that I did.  I chose to stay in western New York for so long because I was afraid to fail in the place where I actually wanted to be.

The DMV region was always the destination of choice for me.  I remember visiting Virginia Beach with my sister when I was nineteen, and then again as a graduation gift with my sister and nieces.  I loved the trip, and as a poor kid growing up, I hadn't been too many places outside of New York City.  I visited the DC area again with a friend, staying in Fairfax this time, and I enjoyed it. All three times I thought it was more so the fact that I was on vacation, but those experiences stayed with me for a long time.  Previous to moving to this area, I had never stayed a full week here (as I have during other vacations). However, something kept drawing me to this area of the country more than any other I'd visited, and for over twenty years. But life took me the long way to reach this destination.

Even my short stay with family in Maryland this year still didn't feel right, as much as I'd wanted it to, because I had quit my job and just decided to move, so yes, the risk needed to pay off.  But I understand now that it didn't feel right because it was just a stop on the journey to where I am now.  So when people would ask how I was feeling, if I was happy with my decision, it was difficult to say that I was happy.  I was happy with my decision to leave western New York.  As a matter of fact, it felt like this:

Courtesy of Tyrese Gibson's Facebook Page, LOL

But I still wasn't where I wanted to be.

The job I took here in Virginia was not the job I wanted.  Correction: it was not the job I THOUGHT I wanted.  As a matter of fact, I was thinking of withdrawing from the search process the day of my interview. I drove to my interview exhausted, with a headache, and knowing that I had to do a presentation that just felt like too much for a job I wasn't that interested in.  I give all of the credit to God, because before I went in there, I prayed and asked the Holy Spirit to do the interview for me.  I walked in and immediately felt that I was in a good place.  People seemed genuinely happy to meet me, and I walked out of the interview, sans headache and funky attitude, knowing that if I were offered the position, I would take it.  I literally went through five different interviews for this position. All the while, I did not really know that the job was what I wanted to do.  But when I got the offer, and then got the salary offer, I realized that this wasn't about the job function.  This was about going from a place where people were resentful, or maybe even unaware of my value, to a place where before people even knew me as a person, I was valued.

Circumstances also required me to move quickly, so in a matter of a twelve days after receiving the offer, I was moving just my clothes, shoes, and some dishes into my new apartment about ten minutes from my job (in DMV traffic.  So, heaven.). I have been here for three weeks now, and this is worth sharing: I suffered from insomnia for the entire time that I lived in western New York - waking up at 2 or 3am, and staying up for 2-3 hours, consequently being exhausted and more often than not, late to work, which caused me to be stressed out and feel depressed.  Previous to that, I'd slept like a baby.  For the past three weeks, I have been sleeping on an air mattress with none of my furniture or the things that make a home comfortable, and I have been sleeping like a baby every single night.  Every. Single. Night.

People ask about this new move that I made, and it's been difficult to verbalize how I feel.  But I know now that feeling valued is something that I needed in a workplace.  Being in a place where my supervisor is constantly acknowledging the totality of my previous experiences - where in the past people either downplayed or completely ignored it - means a lot to me.  Being in my own apartment in a place that has been attractive to me since I first visited over twenty years ago feels right.  

I wake up in the morning, and I think, "I'm happy".  

Here's my new definition of happiness.  Happiness is when your inner peace and joy align with your outer circumstances.  And now that I am happy, I can't even begin to imagine how many more good things will come into my life, because everything on the inside of me is finally conspiring with the universe on my behalf.  

Happy New You!

From My Own Kitchen Table

Let me tell you what I did not do last year.

• I did not finish writing my book.
• I did not self-publish the book that I did not finish writing.
• I did not lose all of the weight I wanted to lose by summer.
• I did not get accepted into another doctoral program that I applied to.
• I did not change jobs.
• I did not have different (or growing) responsibilities at my job.
• I did not change geographical locations.
• I did not find the love of my life.
• I did not start a family.

These are some goals I had set for myself last year.  As the year went on, disappointment became a part of life.  I was most disappointed in my lack of progress regarding the book I am in the process of writing.  I think I've written about two full chapters as well as an intro (but don't quote me on that).  So I felt like a loser.  Most of us do when we don't meet our goals, and we do like to make lofty goals every new year, so I would say that we usually put ourselves in a position to feel like losers.

Let me tell you what I did last year.

• I took a semester off from my doctoral program.
• I started seeing a counselor.
• I joined a weight-loss program.
• I started working out and, most consistently, practicing yoga. (Nothing fancy, just some dvds.)
• I tried some new things, like breathing. (Really!)
• I went on a few vacations to places that calm me and give me joy.
• I started eating food for health benefits as well as for enjoyment. 

Honestly, I am really happy about what I did accomplish.  The difference between the goals I set for myself (which I did not achieve) and what I accomplished is that the goals were outward achievements - things I could be applauded and congratulated for - while my accomplishments were more personal. Yes, people have noticed some weight loss. Yes, people have remarked that I seem a lot less stressed now.  However, I personally experienced the benefits of the practices I incorporated into my life moment by moment, which helped me to appreciate the small changes that were transforming me into a new me.  

So what have I learned about making goals for the new year?

1. You really don't have to.  If you don't, you're not a loser. If you do and don't achieve them, you're also not a loser, but you'll be more likely to think you are.

2. If you are going to set goals, they can be as small as, "I am going to incorporate a fruit and/or vegetable into every meal", and those goals can be set, and met, daily.

3. Goals should be super-specific.  "I am going to be healthy" is not a goal.  "I am going to tell three people I love them today" is.  At the end of the day you should be able to specifically assess whether or not you met your goal.

4. Stop expecting yourself to be perfect and do amazing things.  Honestly, amazing people just are.  Just BE. 

5. Congratulate yourself for making it through what you have been through.  And find reasons to be happy with who you are, and who you are becoming.

Happy New You!

Trish

Oops, I Did It Again!

Over the past weekend, I attended the Heal a Woman to Heal a Nation conference in Baltimore, MD for the second year in a row.  This time, I brought a group of young women from the women's leadership group I advise.  During last year's conference, the keynote speaker talked about securing our own oxygen masks before assisting others.  I promptly came home from the conference and wrote a blog post about how much that concept resonated with me and how I was going to make some changes so that I could be more effective as a counselor, beginning with learning how to care for myself. (You can read that blog post here.)

A year has passed, and in that time, I have accomplished some things that indicate that I am moving forward in my life.  I began to write more, which is not a hobby, but as much a necessity for me as breathing.  I took some time off from ministry, which had become more like something I had to do than something I got to do.  I moved, and in the process of moving I purged things from my past that no longer had any place in my life.  I stopped trying to hold on to a relationship where we were obviously both on different pages.  I helped plan a successful women's leadership conference for the third year in a row, this time with Michelle Obama's former chief of staff as our keynote speaker.  I attended a leadership institute for directors and aspiring directors of college opportunity programs.  I applied for a doctoral program and was accepted.  Just in the past week, I helped plan activities for two groups of high school students who came to visit our college on the same day.  I also completed the arrangements for the trip to Baltimore with eleven young women from the leadership group.  All of this planning occurred in the midst of my regular job duties and my plans for implementing a new student initiative.  Moving forward.  Full steam ahead.

If you're reading this, I would expect that you would be tired by now.  Or have a headache.  Or you might be thinking about all of the things you have gotten done, or need to do.  It's okay!  I have a paradigm shift for you!

First, let me acknowledge that I'm not sure I ever kept the promises I made to myself to take care of myself before trying to take care of others.  Okay, I know I didn't.  I know this because in the past year, in the midst of accomplishing so much, I cried so much.  It was never more evident than two weeks ago, when I found out I'd been accepted to a Ph.D. program in Higher Education.  I was so happy on the day I found out, then two days later, I freaked out.  I thought about how close I am to achieving this dream I've had my whole life, and how at this point in my life I thought I would have had a husband and children, and going back to school would be the icing on the cake.  In reality, I was feeling like school was going to be the cake, and might keep me from having the family I want more than anything.  Freaking out. 

As I was sitting in the workshops and listening to the panel discussion at the Heal a Woman to Heal a Nation conference, every once in awhile tears would well up in my eyes.  Every time the tears came, I stopped to ask why they were there.  And every time the answer was the same: I had done it again.  I had put everything and everyone before myself.  I had adopted the fighter's stance once again, striving to hold on to everything I had worked so hard for.

During one of those high school visits I mentioned above, I gave an impromptu testimony of my life to local high school students.  I talked about how my family lived in a shack in Puerto Rico, and my mother had never been allowed to go to school, so she couldn't read or write.  I recalled being in the first grade, walking to my home in the housing projects in Brooklyn thinking, "I am going to do well in school because I don't want to live in the projects for the rest of my life."  I knew that I had to be the best and that I had to work harder than anyone I knew in order to succeed.  I told the students that my parents were on welfare and disability, that I could not even afford college, but that I made it, and that I am starting a doctoral program in the fall.  They applauded.  Applauded.  All the while, I was thinking, "This is for them. This is so that they know they can make it too."  All of my accomplishments, especially those of the past year, have been applauded by others. Two things came out of that testimony for me: I fight because I grew up thinking I had to, and I don't do it for me, I do it for others to know that nothing is impossible.  But all of my accomplishments, while moving me forward professionally and personally, haven't brought me happiness.

Then I heard the words I needed to hear at the conference.  Right before lunch, a short documentary about successful African-American relationships called "Black Love Lives" was screened.  Although I didn't have the opportunity to watch the entire documentary, I heard a phrase from the film repeated several times by the visionary director of Heal a Woman to Heal a Nation, Inc.:  "Before you find your soulmate, you must find your own soul." 

In the last six words of that phrase, I had found the cause of my discontent.  I need to find my own soul.  Not my purpose; my purpose gets lived out every day.  Not my spirit; my spirit has been revived and shines brightly in me as a reflection of my relationship with God.  Not my heart; my heart has been opened up and I've learned to genuinely, unconditionally love others.  My soul has been lost.  My soul is that place within me that is only mine.  The place where only one or two others speak the same language.  The place where I celebrate myself, and know that I am not my accomplishments.  I'm not my failures.  I'm just me. 

Last fall, when I made the decision to cut back on ministry, I automatically looked for something to take its place.  I looked at the books I'd started to write but hadn't finished.  I asked my writer friend for advice, because I wasn't sure that I even wanted to go back to those books I'd started.  He said that I needed to do nothing for awhile so that I could hear from my soul.  I asked him, "Do you mean my spirit?  Because I hear from God all the time in my spirit."  He said something to the effect of, "No. Your soul. Your spirit is where God speaks to you.  Your soul is where you speak to yourself."

Here's the paradigm shift: I propose that we are not our accomplishments, though they make us feel better about ourselves.  We are not even our purpose, although that is how we are used by God to impact others.  I propose that we stop to listen to our own souls, because if we don't, we are ignoring the very place God created for us to become our authentic selves; the true place of happiness.

So I ask myself now, "When will I commit to finding my own soul?"  Because as long as I don't, I will strive and fight for everything I have and everything that I want.  And I will cry, because the tears are my soul's message to me that it longs to be found.