It’s strange, isn’t it, how other people can sometimes see us more clearly than we see ourselves?
Something I often think about—and when I do, it makes me kind of sad inside—is how sometimes other people can see way more capability or brilliance or medicine (one’s unique combination of gifts, talents, skills, intelligences, intuitions, empathies, abilities to heal, nurture and/or uplift—magic) in a person than that person will recognize in themselves.
I’m speaking for a friend here, of course.
And, I think about how difficult it can be to believe, accept, embrace what’s reflected back.
At the same time, why is it so easy for us to find fault in ourselves? Why, so often, are we so quick to lambast and reject anything about ourselves or our efforts that’s not “perfect” or exceptional (“marketable,” perhaps)? Or, when we’re being more kind—but still “realistic”—why still are we more likely to minimize the good stuff, perceiving that the positives are deeply undercut or negated entirely?
That’s wholly messed up, isn’t it? It’s like we cracked the mirror on purpose or something so that it will be impossible to see ourselves clearly. Or, do we even realize that we’re viewing ourselves through fractured glass?
So, who are the someones who see our gifts and show them to us? Aren’t they the family—by blood or choice—who know us the best and love us for who we are? The ones who root for us, and fight for us? The ones who we can call at any hour, or after any length of time, and they’ll pick up without question or as if no time had passed? Aren’t they the acquaintances who randomly share an old memory that touched their heart? Or the absolute stranger who went out of their way to tell us that our unconscious act of kindness has made their day?
Then who, or what, has informed our inner critic, where did we learn to be so unforgiving of ourselves, so demanding and dismissive? And why do these sources hold so much power? It’s one thing to be able to zoom out and evaluate the success or failure of our endeavors within the grand scheme of things, and it’s another to measure ourselves against the grand scheme and rank ourselves against an unattainable ideal.
I’m finally learning to recognize that I often do the latter. Emphasis on the ing of it… in that it’s a currently active quest, if you will.
Objective: Find the cracked mirror, tear it (the F) down, and replace it with a whole, non-distorting one.
Reward: Being able to see myself for who I truly am and am meant to be. Being able to view myself without all the trappings of societal expectations, without judgment, without comparison or critique, only with curiosity, compassion, and divine love.
Now, there are times when I get excited about expanding myself, charting a new direction, and I feel ready to rise to the occasion… and usually, naturally, I’m petrified too.
I know there are thrill seekers out there who relish these moments—an appropriately-dosed adrenaline rush is nature’s way of allowing us to suspend disbelief or anticipation of outcome long enough to make the jump. But, generally-speaking, growth, change, expanding our comfort zone, can be challenging.
It occurred to me recently that childhood was all about pushing our comfort zone. Being an infant, a toddler, a child, a student, was all about learning All the Things: how to sit up, how to eat solid food, how to walk, how to speak, how to read, how to write, how to listen, how to remember, how to calculate, how to analyze, how to draw, how to play, how to perform, how to win, how to lose, how to relate, how to react. Everything was new, and as soon as we achieved one milestone it was time to move on to the next. No wonder we needed so much sleep and space and time to run and rest and rejuvenate!
Rejuvenate: re– ‘again’ + Latin juvenis ‘young’.
Every time we learn something new it’s absorbed (from Latin absorbere, from ab- ‘from’ + sorbere ‘suck in’, sucked in from without) into our being.
Our comfort zone expands and its boundary refreshes (re- ‘again’ + fresh). It’s new again.
So, when we encounter the next new situation, it’s like we become young again—once again the child, the student. Maybe this is why I often feel like I am all my ages at once. I am four and fourteen and forty and fifty-four and four score and, for all one knows, four millennia, all at the same time.
Just like when we were children, it still takes a lot of energy to grow that comfort zone—maybe even more? Growth happens more slowly and sporadically. Our thoughts and actions develop patterns over time, weaving reinforcements through our boundaries like a protective web. It can take more effort to stretch ourselves and grow through the resistance. As they say, old habits die hard.
And yet, even when I’m in an expansive mood, there are times I have to do so much self-talk to silence the naysayers… to quell all the voices telling me I’m no good. Like “Hahahaha! How can YOU do THAT 🤣 “You can’t just 🥹 [fill in the blank with something aspirational]; you’re just a [fill in the blank with current situation/position/qualifications]”—ugh. I see now—or at times I catch a glimpse or a blip of the idea—that these diminishing reactions are bullshit. It’s all bullshit. Limited perspectives propagating limited beliefs and creating limited realities. Keeping us small. Keeping us in our comfort zone. And what happens if we don’t keep pushing to expand our comfort zone? It’s like a muscle, something that stays supple and flexible with use but gets stiff and resistant or even solidified and immovable if we don’t.
Actually, I take that back. That’s not fair to bull shit. Bull shit is extremely useful and life-affirming, if smelly and messy. But then that’s what life is, isn’t it? Smelly and messy and everything else. We have to stay nimble and watch our step. But even stepping in it can be a chance for laughter and, potentially, enlightenment… or at least an opportunity for cleansing and reflection during a nice warm shower.
