The Lump In My Throat & Tears In My Eyes
I felt the lump in my throat expanding as I fought back tears, changed a lifetime pattern of denying that my needs were unimportant as compared to my Dads. Instead of saying ‘Oh, okay’ or ‘I know you’re busy and have important things to do’ the courage rose up and my response was instead ‘I’d like to spend time with you, and I do not often have that opportunity.’
You see I mostly felt like everything else in my Dad’s life was more important, more worthy of his time than me. The farming with extended hours and unpredictable demands, the meetings of so many boards where he volunteered his time, church projects, and the list goes on. Based on this mistaken belief, a part of me decided that I was not important and not worthy of his time. That I was not good enough to have him allocate his time to me.
As children we make lots of assumptions and create inferences. Some of these end up being mostly unexamined beliefs that impact our unconscious perceptions of ourselves, our relationships, and how we see and interact with people. Mostly we are not aware of these unexamined beliefs. We then end up seeing and feeling a situation that reminds us of something from the past and we respond habitually. We may lash out. We may rebel. We may shut down. Possibly a combination or some other habitual response. All because that’s what we learned to do at a young age, or as a coping mechanism.
This is why I choose to offer the services I do. Because these practices have been transformative in my life and have invited seismic shifts. Some which I stepped into easily and many that require more effort and awareness. It’s an ongoing journey and my passion is offering this work; it is why I am here.
Back to my dad. He responded to my 9 AM call asking him to spend the next morning with me, with ‘I won’t know until the morning.’ After I have shared from a place of vulnerability, was that the response I wanted? NO! Yet, his response, while it stung, did not impact my willingness to step into being vulnerable and changing a lifetime of patterning. This, but an example of why these practices I embrace and guide matter. Only you and I can make changes. Not anyone else.
After my Dad and I hung up, I cried and vented. And, had a fleeting thought of ‘why bother?’ Why be vulnerable with a person whose actions I interpret as not choosing to spend time with me? Because my inner knowing responded: it matters to you. This invitation is to risk, to release a pattern, to show up for the invitation and let go of the outcome.
Later that afternoon my Dad called to let me know he’d been thinking about it and he wanted to go with me the next day. So we spent several hours together – with both awkward and connecting moments. Now when I am back in Minnesota, where he lives, we continue to make an effort to be together. My vulnerability made a difference to the relationship my Dad and I now have. And it created a shift from how I recall my prior childhood experience with him.
This is but one of a plethora of reasons that the practices I offer matter. Because they make a difference in how we show up for life. They invite us to shine brighter.