I’m a therapist, right? So, like, I’m supposed to be this blank canvas and let people project their “stuff” onto me as grist for the therapeutic mill.
And that’s helpful; it really is!
But the fact of the matter is, sometimes people just need you to be human. Well here’s a hefty dose of human for you today, folks.
Here’s what happened. I was happily plugging along having an awesome morning finishing up some tasks while watching Wayne Dyer on his Modern Wisdom from the Ancient World DVD.
[Momentary digression: The alive or dead person I’d want to have dinner with? Total toss-up between Wayne Dyer and Elvis Presley. Seriously. I was Elvis for Halloween once. If my husband cooperated, he would have been Priscilla, but he’s lame, so….]
Where was I? Oh yes…Dr. Dyer told a story that stopped me in my tracks. He said:
“For a long time I would carry an orange with me on stage, and I would toss it up and catch it, toss it up and catch it. And finally I would ask the kids in the audience, ‘If I squeezed this orange with all of my might, what would come out?’
The kids would usually say ‘Juice!’ And I’d say apple juice? They’d say, ‘No! Orange juice!’ Then I’d ask, Well, why? After several tries a kid over in the corner would huff and say, ‘this is dumb, it’s because that’s what’s inside!’ And I’d say, Well, of course! It’s because that’s what’s inside!
Now. What if someone squeezes you? Someone puts pressure on you? And someone tells you that you’re bad or evil or wrong or miserable or whatever. And out of you comes anger, hatred, bitterness, fear, tension, stress, revenge, bitterness…
It’s not because of who did the squeezing. It’s not what instrument they used or how they did the squeezing.
It’s because that’s what’s inside. If you have that inside, that’s what’s going to come out.”
Here’s the truth: Someone has been squeezing me. And I bet there’s someone squeezing you, too. What’s coming out of me? Let me put it this way. My cousin recently text me photos asking me to forward them to a few people. I pointed out I would not send them to a certain someone. When my cousin asked why, I replied, “He’s a douchebag.”
Jersey was in full force. (If you don’t know New Jersey, take my word for it….you get told like it is)
This person has been squeezing me. And I’ve been patient and kind and open, but well….I have a healthy serving of OJ flowing out of my mouth lately. And it’s sour.
But, I’m going to say this, because I think it’s important: I don’t believe the goal is to annihilate the sour OJ. I think we need to honor it. Because, it’s a wonderful reminder of when things aren’t working for us. I mean, I feel like crap spewing sour OJ. And I don’t know about you, but that just doesn’t work for me.
Case in point: When in the throes of infertility, someone once asked me quite cheerfully if I had kids. I looked her dead in the eye with a smirk and responded bitterly, “Nope. I’m infertile.”
She was jarred and extremely uncomfortable.
Did I want her to feel that way? No. (Okay, maybe yes.) But, what was actually happening was that I hadn’t dealt with and honored the pain inside. I hadn’t given myself permission to be upset, angry, bitter, and hostile. I became righteous to avoid my own vulnerability. And when she squeezed, that shit just came right on out.
I sour OJed all over her. My apologies, Random Stranger At That One Baby Shower.
And that’s what I’m doing to, Douchebag….er….this other person.
So, here’s my plan: I’m publically coming clean (check), I’m honoring my upset (check), and I’m going to keep letting it come in waves until only forgiveness remains and the sweet OJ flows.
How will you honor your sour OJ today?
Until next time…Be well,
P.S. Proof of Elvis. And yes, that’s my hound dog dachshund dressed as Elvis, too. I may need therapy.
{module 148}
