Or “It Ain’t True, Darlin’ ”
It shouldn’t have bothered me. My excuse is that I was tired and stressed and helping with that particular project was one of the things I’d enjoyed the most about this volunteer gig. So when, for maybe the third time, I was told I wasn’t needed to help anymore, I decided I was being dismissed because I was too slow, not as accurate as I thought, and so forth.
A bit later I laughed at myself. This was a classic example of letting other’s words get me down. In retrospect, I didn’t even know if their words were about me. Perhaps the whole project was already under control (it certainly worked in the end). Perhaps the organizers were feeling stressed and saying “no” made them feel more in control. Shoot – maybe I threatened them (that has happened, not sure why).
One of the hardest things to understand is that what we think about things isn’t actually real. It is just what our mind is saying about whatever the “fact” or event is. Our minds process what’s happening so we can make sense of it and to keep us safe. My default response to what I hear as negative comments is an explanation of why I’m inadequate. Inadequacy is my default safe place. While that sounds negative, think about it. For me, even though I think I’d like to be seen as fabulous, I’ve never been physically harmed when I’ve felt inadequate.
Perhaps your default is to be right or self-righteous. Whatever your default response, it is a feeling that helps you feel comfortable. It feels safe and familiar, even if part of you wishes you reacted differently. For me feeling inadequate may not be pleasant, but it is a familiar place that has kept me out of trouble and helped me fit in for as long as I can remember.
Another default response for some people can seem like the opposite of this. Perhaps you push boundaries beyond any reasonable expectation. Danger reminds you that you’re alive. For you, it’s safer to place yourself in situations where life seems disposable—on your own terms.
Maybe anything new is simply seen as “dangerous.” And so welcomed. Or, as a classic defense, something to be rejected.
None of these responses are bad or wrong or unusual. But learning to see thoughts as thoughts, with no intrinsic reality, can be very freeing. When I can notice the “inadequate” conversation, I’m free to question it and change it to showing me as competent, interesting, and curious. To hear alternative versions of things we are sure we absolutely know are true helps us see that, just maybe, we can look at that truth a bit differently.
There are several tools and reflections available to explore this. Perhaps one of the best known is The Work from Byron Katie. What she does is so simple that some find it threatening, feel manipulated, and dismiss her. Basically, what she says is that if thoughts are causing you pain, question them. Whatever truth there is in what happened, in this minute you have choices on how you look at those thoughts and, by extension, the events you’re thinking about. Here is the link to what she calls The Work, which is based on four questions:
Is it true?
Can you absolutely know it’s true?
How do you react, what happens, when you believe that thought?
Who would you be without that thought?
The answers to these questions are followed by simple, non-judgmental curiosity about “turnarounds” where you consider what may be true when you reverse the thought.
More recently, I finally read Brené Brown’s book Rising Strong: how the ability to reset transforms the way we live, love, parent, and lead. This book was a gift I received from someone over seven years ago that initially I resisted reading. (My mind had these thoughts that for me the book wasn’t useful.). This book also helps us look at how we relate to our thoughts – plus how we form thoughts and can change them. Brown looks at this challenge from a more experiential direction than Katie. Brown’s discussion includes exploring our default responses.
On a lighter, or at least different, note, I’ve always wanted to have people (originally I was thinking of teenagers, but now think anyone) play with just retelling their truth by creating an alternative, if imagined, story. Preferably I imagine the absurd such as picturing my colleagues in my initial “they don’t want me” scenario actually answering a completely different question, seeing me as an alien, or being given a pro forma script where they were forced to say no. Elves and fairies or more serious notes describing some of the personal things they might be experiencing, such as illness, could also be in the mix.
A few years ago, I was part of a writing workshop led by Martha Beck. I don’t remember what the assignment and prompt was, but this poem was the product and worth sharing for the last three lines.
It Ain’t True, Darlin’
They’re only words within our head
Our thoughts are just opinion bred
Yours only tell me more of you
Or mine shows that my sight’s askew.
For scorn is just an itch that’s grown
So we won’t see the hurt we’ve sown
Or a belief we think will save
Us from a fault we really crave.
So if you truly seek to be
The one that in your heart you see
Let loose and sing with me this song
And laugh at life and dance along
Remember this is always true:
Your thoughts aren’t me
And mine aren’t you!
Have you questioned your thoughts? If you’re willing to share, I would love to hear from you.
_______________________-
Notes from the top. All images by Spirit Moxie:
Photo from the part of the volunteer gig that did work. “Dinosaur Wrangler”
Tree on the grounds of where I learned about The Work (Ojia, CA)
Screenshot of Rising Strong cover on our Kindle – an Amazon Spirit Moxie link
A friend has actually set “It’ Ain’t True Darlin'” to music as “Word Dance.” When there’s a working recorded version, we’ll share!