Tag: hide

  • Not Hide

    Mark Nepo writes, "How are you tending to the emerging story of your life?"

    "Like many of us, I seem to be continually challenged not to hide who I am.  Over and over, I keep finding myself in situations that require me to be all of who I am in order to make my way through."

    "Whether breaking a pattern of imbalance with a lifelong friend, or admitting my impatience to listen to my lover, or owning my envy of a colleague, or even confronting the self-centeredness of strangers stealing parking places, I find I must be present – even if I say nothing. I find I must not suppress my full nature, or my life doesn't emerge."

    "Aside from the feeling of integrity or satisfaction that comes over me when I can fully be myself, I am finding that being who I am – not hiding hiding any of myself – is a necessary threshold that I must meet or my life will not evolve.  It is a doorway I must make my way to or nothing happens.  My life just stalls."

    "Tending our stories means that our lies must open if we are to live in the mystery; our ways of hiding no matter how subtle must relax open if we are to be."  Mark

    How appropriate this is, for just yesterday, I was once again asked to not hide myself…to speak up and for my own integrity.

    As a Mail Lady, I have a backup to do my route every other Saturday or when I am sick or on vacation.  He is waiting in the wings to be needed…to be my relief.  Yet time and time again, when I called him, he was unable to, and finally told me that he would only relieve me on Fridays and Saturdays.  Then even Fridays he was unable to. And then it trickled down to him not even returning my calls for relief.  Our communication ceased to exist, my smallest faith in him completely dried up.  I can't rely on someone who is unavailable to even be asked to be available.

    In the past, the backups and regular route drivers communicated without our boss running interference, we had an open and clear communication system of courtesy, of notifying the other of potential days that we would be unavailable…like good parents tending to the route to ensure that it was always taken care of.

    This relatively newcomer to our office has thrown a monkey wrench into how we do things, and oddly enough, it seems he has the most power. 

    The proper protocol is for my boss to find the backup, but we as drivers felt it easier to not have a middleman, but talk directly and share our upcoming events and work around each other to ensure that all of us get to take the days off we truly need.  The higher need, say a wedding would trump a day off to just be off.  Reasons carried a weight, and we were considerate of this.

    Once he stopped returning phone calls, I handed him over to my boss.  It is up to her to reach him, ask my request and then relay it back to me.  

    Yesterday, she tells me he is unavailable to work until March 1. That he has a medical reason.  Which most likely is true, but his past has proceeded him, and it just seems that he is taking me for a longer ride.  The weight of the imbalance is completely on my end.

    My nature is not to take imbalance in silence, I can't let this slip by docile and compliant, for I would not be tending to who I am. 

    As my boss stood up for him, I stood taller for me. I stood for myself and the other two who are faithful and considerate, and who now have to conform to his negligence.  

    My boss astutely felt that I perhaps had more of an issue with her management than his lack of work ethic…and I told her, "I guess I do."

    I felt that as she defended him, she left her three good employees un managed.  She relied on the good to continue to be good…to good naturally take his lack of work ethic one more time.

    What I found so odd, is that instead of coming down on him, she comes down on me.  She expects the good to carry more. And to do so without giving her any lip. Certainly, now with a medical excuse, her hands are tied, but when she stood across the line with him, it left me to stand against authority…I stood up stating my unhappiness.

    It seems like tending to me is to stand up, that I am moved to defend my integrity and faithfulness.  That her asking me to give up my days for his reasons once again is asking too much.

    She repeated many times, "I am sorry."  Until I told her that word from her sounds like a swear.  I can't feel your sorry.  I feel you supporting a man who is disloyal to us all.  Your sorry can't change the fact that I now have to work the next 5 Saturdays in a row.  And it isn't so much Saturday, but the five previous days…with one day off in between.  

    Her answer was to look into getting a backup to the backup.  My answer is to get rid of the no backup backup.  

    Her answer too was that I can find work elsewhere if unhappy.

    She doesn't see that by catering to him, she is neglecting the ones who are doing that which they are hired to do. 

    She tends to those who are neglecting their work.

    This brought me back to the imbalances in our childhood home, and how my mother relied on the good to carry the 'bad'.  That the good have to carry more and more…to keep the balance.

    The failure to carry more is seen to be more of a crime, than the crime itself.

    My mother too was unable to get rid of dead weight, so instead she piled more upon those already carrying.  Never focusing on who we carried.

    My boss is so similar to my mother…and our office much like a dysfunctional home, where the one doing the least or creating the most damage is protected.  And if you don't like it, "Leave."

    The only option I have is to work within her system or quit.

    I see the lay of the land, where her focus lies…and I what I will have to do for myself.  How to become self sufficient as possible and how not to rely on her or get my heart set on having days off.  Things I have to do if I want to work there.

    Just as a child learns what they have to endure to be part of a dysfunctional family.

    I can see clearly now my role as a child; to carry the dead weight.  It was expected of me. 

    The greatest difference in my job is I do get paid for carrying his weight, for working his days.  I am compensated for it…

    It is my intention to use the compensation well. Extra money to do fun things, and floating holidays in which I can play.

    My life isn't at a stall, I am making my way through, I am speaking up and evolving and learning how to use these exchanges for my benefit…to see the present and not hide!

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • The Raw and Perfect Truth.

    As I thought about the way we paint people, how we are taught at a very young age to temper our truths, what we see and how we feel, how we not only learn to paint ourselves in false colors, but others as well. 

    We tell little children it is ‘not nice’ to call a fat person fat.

    It is not nice to say that someone who is mean is mean.

    That it is not nice to say grandma made you feel bad.

    We are teaching them, It is not nice to speak your truth…

    And, speaking your truth will make others feel bad.

    Is that right?  How can that be?  How in the world are the child’s words and feelings put aside to protect the mean or fat person?

    And then we wonder why they don’t come and tell us when a mean Uncle so and so did bad things to them.  They have been taught that their feelings don’t matter and that the truth is not kind.

    I am quite certain the fat person knows she/he is fat.

    And perhaps it may be better for us to engage in a conversation about it. 

    When I began speaking my truth, it felt like I was doing something bad.

    Like I had broken the ‘golden’ rule of kindness, that I had turned a corner into the forbidden territory, and all hell would break lose.

    And it did, the pretty painted picture shattered and crumbled.

    I lost friends and family when I spoke out loud and became like a very very stubborn child. I refused to give up what I had seen, how I felt and how the other person’s actions affected me.

    For once in my life, I looked at me in truth and how the world around me felt to me, looked to me…and my coloring people crayons disappeared.

    And the paints I used to tone down what I saw and how I felt…completely dried up. 

    I then discovered an incredible freedom and how easy it was to not have to come up with an excuse for others or worry how my truth would make them feel.

    Byron Katie’s book, “Loving What is” showed me how it was okay and actually a very sacred place to be.

    I was walking with God in reality. 

    I saw what God saw.

    He didn’t paint a sunset over to make it into a bird, nor a tree into a river.  He kept them all in their natural states.  I could then see the perfection in everything. 

    A mean person is mean.

    An unhappy person is unhappy.

    A homeless man has no home.

    A biting dog bites.

    A pedophile abuses children.

    A drunken person drinks.

    A neglectful mother neglects her children. 

    I didn’t try to make any of the above different, it was impossible and not my job.  I retired as the painter to make their lives appear kinder and feel better to me.

    Instead I felt them as they were…I opened myself up to feel all the things I had previously painted, I stripped them down so only their truths shone forth.

    I felt what it feels like to have a pedophile father, a neglectful mother.  I felt it all wash over me removing my own paints of being normal and okay.

    Stripped bare I stood with a family minus the pretty paint.

    Its unvarnished rawness of glaring truths…

    It wasn’t pretty but it was my truth…and I didn’t have the strength or the desire to pick up a brush and cover it up.

    I let it lay there in all its ugly perfect glory… the raw and perfect truth.