Personhood

The last two weeks of my life have been intense. Internally, there has been a shifting of my person. Externally, there has been work and life demands, plus the added bonus of training for a marathon (http://www.slomarathon.com/) and the not-so-added bonus of poison oak. I'm not complaining about any of it, but it does take a toll.


The internal rearrangement of personhood feels exhausting to me...its sound is amplified in my spirit, not like clanging of drums or explosions, but like the loud, overtaking sound of a passing train...a train that, oddly, doesn't seem to pass. It doesn't seem to pass. And then it does. When I'm in these states of rearrangement, redevelopment, realignment, I'm aware of it, but the process consumes me. I become an observer of myself, quiet in reflection, protective of my time and energy.


It's at these times, however, that I find that life doesn't let up its demands on me. In fact, she increases them. Perhaps it's a good thing she does. Otherwise, I might need medication to successfully deal with my internal life. So what's the outcome of a week-plus of inner turmoil?


Glad you asked.


1) I can only be myself. There is no one else inside.
2) Being me is just being, not good or bad...just honest.
3) Unless someone is bleeding uncontrollably, things can wait.
4) Sitting and feeling the feelings rumble around inside of me is a powerful tool for disspelling old notions and ideas. They can wash over me and I can come through the other side.
5) Instead of being dramatic and victimized, I can be calm and dignified.
6) All is as it should be, or it wouldn't be.
7) Kindness rules and compassion is freedom.
8) There is a line where I end and others begin.
9) I am responsible to speak my truth, simply and plainly.
10) I am responsible for being kind and loving in my interactions.


I learned a prayer years ago, a prayer of thanksgiving, really. It is simple and plain and at the heart of my week. It's merely a thank you for everything I've been given, everything that's been taken away, and everything that's been left behind. In weeks like this, it's the mantra that makes the most sense to me.