i’m happy. should i even be writing? i’m busy. how to find the time…
i want to write about something special today. not just my life, but something bigger. today, amigos, i want to write about inner dialogue… which is going to be about my life anyway. sorry. i don’t know anyone’s life better than my own.
i am good at listening. i know how to be a friend and when to use what type of listening. i could teach classes on active listening, relationship listening, evaluative listening, whole-person listening, intent listening. i know listening like i know diabetes.
but for some reason, amidst my self-proclaimed and admittedly self-fullfilled well-endowed ear, i often fail at what is considerably the most important. i don’t listen to myself. i often forget to afford myself the same depth of listening i lend to friends and family, and even strangers.
it takes me ages to sit down and do a little self-recap. it takes months. what do i ACTUALLY want and need right now?
here’s my theory. i live at many levels of being. i seek satisfaction in many ways as a means to, for the lack of a better term, shut up most of the levels that have to scream to get an ounce of attention. i guess it is fair to say i am as good at ignoring myself as i am at listening to others
there is something wrong with that. trust that i see the errors in my ways…
but what to do about it? well, writing helps. i know it does. i know that when i am ignoring myself at more than one level of being, the first thing i do, is put off writing.
i have to face things when i write.
i’ve never been good at bullshitting
when i lie, i have to confess to at least three people almost immediately
what does this mean?
well.. it means that i have not been writing because i have been hiding something from myself, ignoring something on some level that i didn’t let come up for air.
and you guessed it. now i am writing because i have worked through it mostly.
not completely. but i am getting there.
i wont get too deep into it here, but lets just say i have been going through an identity crisis. not about diabetes. but about something seemingly more trivial than that. about something that makes me feel like a lesser human being for feeling. something that helps me let myself fall into a pattern of self-hatred and binging. and when i say binging, i mean in the sense of food, yes, but also in the sense of time. i overdo it with commitments. i dont give myself a second of time to reflect on what is happening emotionally in and around my body. i ignore it.
and this one, this crisis… it was a doozy. i fought it like i haven’t fought anything in a long time. i didn’t want it. i felt icky all the time. i felt like the feelings i was having meant i wasn’t a good person. logically i can easily wiggle out of the feeling and so i do.
but wiggling out doesn’t mean dealing
so i delt, i faced, i cried, and now i am kind of over it.
so here i am
i might write about the crisis itself later
but this is about finally listening
this is about applying my skills for me
so BOOM. doing it.. i’ll report back in process
and in the meantime, i’ll get back to the unexpected blues…