… is loneliness for?
what on earth…
… is loneliness for?
Month: September 2016
we generalise our truth and so make it our truth
It always rains at the weekend.
Generalisation.
Of course once we think it, we notice when it does rain, rather than when it doesn’t -thereby reinforcing our thinking. The term ‘always’ might suggest it is never not raining at the weekend. A veritable deluge on Saturday and Sunday, without fail, for a full twenty four hours. Not true of course.
We do this all the time though in our language…
We say “nobody understands me…” – Really, ‘nobody’?
Or we say “everyone’s against me…” – Really, ‘everyone’?
Or we say “they’re all the same…” – Really, ‘all’? And just who are ‘they’?
This occurs not only in our language, but also in our interpretation of action.
For example, if someone you know walks by without saying ‘hello’, what’s your reaction? You might think that they ignored you because you might have upset them? Or maybe they don’t like you really? This might make you feel guilty, hurt or rejected. So you might be tempted not to speak first, the next time you meet; to be more cautious. This could increase the bad feeling or uncertainty between you both and generate more feelings of guilt or rejection. If this occurred several times with several people you know, you might eventually generalise that you are at fault, maybe even that you are an unlikeable person. If this happened with enough people, you might even start to socially withdraw. But how well did you interpret the situation in the first place?
In essence, problems aren’t caused by situations themselves but by how we interpret them in our thoughts. These interpretations have an impact on our feelings, resultant actions and then subsequent thoughts.
We generalise our truth and in doing so, make it our truth.
Image by © Anthony Redpath/Corbis
we often say…
Looking across valleys. Looking out to sea. Looking at a sunset or a sunrise. Looking at mountain ranges. Looking from on high, across a landscape, we often use the phrase…
“What a beautiful view”.
What is it about large spaces, wide angled perspectives, panoramas that draws us to admire the view?
And why, so often in our lives, do we get close up? Rather than stepping back and seeing the context, the flow, the connections, the breadth, the beauty of the whole. Instead, we focus on a detail. We get transfixed by one aspect. We lose sight of the bigger picture, literally.
self effacing superiority?
Don’t be so humble – you are not that great.
Golda Meir
the misnomer of diversity
We speak of diversity in reference to gender, sexual orientation, disability, age, ethnic or religious background…
The problem with this is the labelling it creates and the notion that we need to take special steps for this labelled cohort. Diversity, and sister terms like ‘inclusion’, suggest acknowledging groups, often minority groups. But the very grouping, the very labelling of the group, is itself creating a boundary. An us and them.
In reality, we’re talking about difference, and we’re all different. All individually diverse. All totally unique.
The more we pay attention to who we are and how we come to the world, the more curious and open hearted we are; recognising that everyone around us does that differently… the better we will be. Everyone comes as their unique self. Everyone has a place.
Use what talents you possess; the woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best
once upon a time…
We love stories.
Not just stories told in books, or on film, or in conversation. We love our stories about ourselves.
We don’t speak them out loud often. We don’t act them out on stage or on screen. We don’t share them with the world, in our workplace or at home. Rather we tell them to ourselves. Quietly. So quietly they are merely whispers. To those around us, these stories have no discernible words, no beautifully drawn pictures to admire, no compelling narrative to hook our attention, no plot, no beginning or end.
Instead the stories play out in our thinking, in how we behave, in how we are in the world. They show up in what is possible and what limits us. They control us. They become a self fulfilling prophecy. We become the actor, the main character in our pastiche of ourselves.
And we run our stories over and over. Day in day out. Week in week out. Inside.
Your past is just a story…
and once you realise this, it has no power over you
Chuck Palahniuk
What we need is freedom from the story of our past.
Freedom to write a new story of our future.
how long until you leave?
Typically we work during the week and have the week-end off. On Friday though I don’t think I’m leaving. Yes I know I’m leaving the office, but not leaving my job, my organisation, my career. Consequently I don’t experience the emotions of leaving.
With friends and family too, sometimes we don’t see people for days or weeks, yet we don’t think of it as leaving. Somehow this ending isn’t an ending. Maybe because we know we will reconnect, return?
Do the emotions of leaving only come when we know it is an ending? Or do they come when the period extends sufficiently to allow the emotions to enter? If the period is long enough that we begin to miss someone or something, does that make it feel like leaving? If the period is long enough that we lose connection or a sense of belonging, does that invoke the emotions of leaving? If the period of absence will mean much has changed and we might return to something new, something different. Does that make it feel like leaving?
I am about to go on holiday for seven weeks. I have never had a holiday even half that length before. Somehow this feels like leaving.
Yet I will be coming back.
So experiencing some of the emotions of leaving when I’m not, leaving… is new to me.
How long does the leaving have to be before it feels like leaving?
growing down
Mostly we go through life growing up.
We get older. We learn from experience. We generally therefore get wiser. We get more aware, more tolerant, more reasoned. We have knowledge, wisdom and experience on our side. So we can make better decisions, better choices. We can be balanced, measured, sage.
Maybe?
A A Milne’s book “Now we are six” is a wonderful collection of children’s poems that ends with this verse…
When I was one,
I had just begun.
When I was two,
I was nearly new.
When I was three,
I was hardly me.
When I was four,
I was not much more.
When I was five,
I was just alive.
But now I am six,
I’m as clever as clever.
So I think I’ll be six
now and forever
A child’s logic. A child’s wisdom.
The problem is we don’t stay six, now and forever. We become, seven, fifteen, twenty six, fifty one, seventy three. At each stage of ‘growing’ we take on more rigidity, more stuckness, more ‘one way’ thinking. Life experience actually binds us. We learn rules, habits, behaviours, beliefs which constrain our potential.
Take a challenge you face today. Maybe it’s about money, time, work, relationships?
How would a six year old face this? What creative, unbounded, imaginative solutions come from the naive, inexperienced, free mind of a child?
Anything is possible. Maybe adults should start growing down? Going back to the free, unencumbered wisdom of childhood.
Maybe we all need to stay six forever?
what on earth…
… is guilt for?
not what, but how
When you choose the behaviour, you choose the consequences
All too often we focus on the end game. The result. The success. The failure. The implications. The achievement. The gain. The outcome. The goal. The consequences.
How we get there though, colours the outcome. It is the ‘how’ that people notice and the ‘how’ that people remember. It is the ‘how’ that affirms alignment to our values.
illuminated dandelion 