Some people who know me think I am hard on myself. That maybe I spend too much time looking outside of me to change parts of my behavior or personality. They may be right, but my bottom line is I just really want to be the best I can be. During those times when I am super lazy about it, I have been hard on myself.
This “be all you can be” stuff started after I had been living in Atlanta a couple of years.
In 1990 I had just landed my dream job as a YMCA Physical Director in charge of the “Aerobics” department. I knew I was “home” at the Y, but I didn’t know what the hell I was doing and had fear and doubt about most aspects of the job. In less than a month, my increasingly alcoholic father admitted himself to an inpatient rehab/recovery program. I was incredibly embarrassed, humiliated and pissed beyond measure that I had to ask for family leave to go and be present for my dad’s family days. I almost didn’t go – but in those days I was still a “good girl.”
My journey of “Self Help” (aka be all you can be) was off and running. Family therapy, individual therapy, AA, Al-Anon, CODA, OA and a gajillion books on how to manage my work and personal life now that my dad was actually present and interested as well as being in a job I was almost completely unqualified for. For a few years I blamed my dad for a lot of crap that was happening in my world. But the gift of his recovery (beyond the obvious bonus that he hasn’t had a drink since then) is I learned there were places and people I could turn to that could help me heal. Before then, I was slogging it through feeling completely alone. Ironically, I was pretty oblivious to much of the healing that I needed to do. For example – every single person at our first Family day kept telling me how mad I was at my dad while I kept adamantly insisting I wasn’t mad in the least. And I didn’t think I was mad, really… good girls don’t get mad. HA – in (20 years of) retrospect, I. Was. Livid.
About three years later I learned that there were people who put their personal wisdom on tape so others could hear it. [Yes it was still “tape” way back then.] It was called Personal Development and, to me – at the time, it was REMARKABLY different from “self help.” It felt like a fresh spring breeze of hope after all the drudge work I had been doing in “self help.” Jim Rohn was my first – The Art of Exceptional Living. Let me tell you, his perspective shifted my thinking incredibly. I can still hear his voice in my head saying “Don’t set a goal to make a million dollars for the money, set a goal to make a million dollars for what meeting the goal will make of you.” Mr. Rohn’s words changed my life in those 5 seconds – mmmmmm, set a goal for what it will make of me. Until The Art of Exceptional Living I didn’t have conscious knowledge about the art or science of goal setting.
Between “self help” and now “personal development” I was a growing fool.
Around 2000, I made a decision that I wouldn’t pay anyone else to help me figure out myself – no therapy or workshops, no books or (by now) CDs. After 10 years of practice I figured I could heal me on my own. Occasionally, I still felt less than and like an alien on the planet, but I was tired of paying other people for what felt like ZERO change. Of course, I didn’t understand The Ascension Spiral yet.
In the last 10 years or so, I’ve had access to the internet and its explosion of (what seems like) everybody’s next great idea/product/class to help or fix me. And I have learned much – including how to build this website you are currently on and how to publish a blog post to it.
Recently a girl friend sent me a post about how all this self help reinforces the idea that we are broken. For a moment I identified. Then I got pissed. I knew, really knew in my heart for the first time, that I wasn’t broken. AND I realized that I value and love getting to know myself better. I also thrive in relationship with people who value getting to know themselves better. I really enjoy hanging out, chatting, and soulution strategizing.
The words “self help,” while maybe still accurate, don’t feel like a fit anymore. The words that fit are “self discovery” and I LOVE my path of self discovery. It is interesting, emotional, surprising, heart breaking, breathtaking, terrifying, satisfying, frustrating, fun, crappy, ecstatic and always new. It’s taken me until now, age 50, to applaud, value, relax and trust that I can continue my path of self discovery for the excitement of discovery rather than to fix me. I’m not broken, I never was.
I actually hope this journey continues as long as I draw a breath.
I’m always curious about other people’s story. Won’t you share a bit of yours in the comments below – would LOVE to read about you.
big love and hugs of greater self discovery,
j