Context: What a time I had coming to terms with my latest growth spurt!  It took a couple of trying! weeks, but the seeds of understanding are starting to sprout; and, I knew I was ready to share my intense frustrations when I found myself laughing at/relating to the following quote that showed up on my Facebook feed…

“I’ll get over it. I just gotta be dramatic first.” (Spilled Ink)

Hello, Cherishables,

My intention is to keep things fresh by sharing some of the topsy-turvy events that peppered my week with the barbs and cues that drove (high) steaks  through my bleating heart.

But, first, I’ll back-pedal by  recounting Thursday’s contribution.

Having waited until payday (which came just in time, given that the electric fire place in my living room can’t be expected to warm the upstairs bedrooms),

I was prepared to hear the service technician say he’d inspected and okay’d my (oil) furnace, replaced the air filters, and that I was good to go.

Instead, upon hearing that a repair resulted in a bill four times more than I’d been expecting,

(*Luckily, that’s all it was..”  He offered, by way of a well-meaning salve.*)

I was careful to keep a mocking, “Mystery solved” look off my face, as I bit back my sarcastic retort…

“So, what you’re saying–Ace Fern(tura) All Set Detective is–the good news is,

before my furnace could blast me with a vent I could ill afford...

the worst it did was blow a (hot air) gasket.”

Thankfully, when I recalled this ungrateful thought today, it was pulled (chin)-up short by a butter-finger fragment.

(*BTW, Fantastics, you can’t be expected to remember that I intro’d BFF’s in my very first post; and that they’re my mind’s best friends…the clumsy cousins of “a-ha moments”.*)

“Hmmm,”

(a)mused Me, Myself, and I,

“Speaking of blowing a gasket, that explains why,

having (on more than one occasion) barely reigned in  my temper this week,

we’re feeling so cold…

For, there’s nothing like being fro-Zen to to make us want to find solace in being a hard ass.”

However, Wonderfuls, although I’d been bamboozled by a bundle of (makes-you-want-to-bang-your-head) bunglings this week and last–

and despite the fact that, (man-oh-)man, good-humor melted as quickly as I can wolf down an ice cream treat–

personal growth insisted that I sit a (cold) spell with discomfort.

Resigned to seeing things through, I stopped distracting myself with vague fantasies of quitting my job to work at an imagined retail location where happy escapist dreams are sold.

(*”Trules, you’ve made it this far, and you know you’re no check-out girl”*)

Consequently, I dug down deep, stubbornly paid the price of admission, re-entered the Big Flop, and settled for a return engagement of the “Not My Circus Not My Monkeys” review.

“Alright, Trules”–assured me, myself, and I.

“It’s just the three of us right now.”

“This is a safe place to air our dirty quandary (*rhymes with laundry (list of complaints)*)”.

“For a couple weeks now, some people associated with work have been driving us nuts with their hair-trigger impatience, butt-covering manipulations, negativity, uninhibited mood swings, and ingratitude….also, one of your friends hurt your feelings”.

“However, through the magic of entertainment, we can wrap this episode up in a nut-shell (of-our-former-(crabby)-self).”

What happened was this:

When practicing the “power of the pause”,

(*loosely translated as giving oneself time to contemplate where you’re coming from, versus the higher ground where you need to be.*)

we became struck by “analysis paralysis” …

A, “dear ( -oh-deer-me”) caught in the headlights.

Thankfully,

time,

an open mind,

and a great deal of effort has resulted in the following understanding…

We tend to get hitched up by our empathy when it’s (furnace-) fueled by prolonged bouts of (turn-the-other-cheek) compassion.

By that (we don’t wear reading glasses, because we can’t see the) point, our own impatience–

triggered by reignited psychic wounds–

gives way to bitten-back bitterness and resentments.

This happens when we perceive that others aren’t playing by polite-society rules…

In essence, we internalize that,

in the guise of sportsmanlike sumo wrestling,

they are simply throwing their weight around with no regard for how it impacts those crushed beneath the weight of their (lack of) team-spirit.

Now, I’d like to say the transition from pain to peace was a dignified one, but…

What I can say is,

my meltdown/outpouring was limited to a small number of (helping-profession) colleagues who are also my friends…

And (a couple days after leaking unvarnished vulnerability), I was able to communicate that the childhood/reverberating mantra–

“Do unto others as you’d have them do unto you”–

has long tangled me up in a singular black-and-white worldview.

I elaborated as best I could.

Feeling like a clumsy scout–simultaneously feeling my way while assuring my friends that I would lead us into a clearing–I can tell you that the process was neither infused with whimsy nor cleverness!

For, by the time my epiphanies reach you, they’ve undergone a creative multi-layered process that, thankfully, reflects a (relatively) concise, relieving, and satisfying sorting out.

Case in point:

For children subjected to a host of (compounded/compounding) traumas,

the aforementioned one-size-fits-all Golden Rule (“Do unto others…”)–

absent consideration for different contexts/life-experiences–

sets vulnerable, empathetic souls up to try to rescue and protect others from the (childhood–and far-beyond) suffering that their tender hearts couldn’t bear (but, somehow did).

Put another way, this broad –“Treat others the way you want to be treated”– Golden Rule is often delivered before children have developed the ability to think in abstract terms (and this is in stark contrast to their– developmentally-appropriate– literal and egotistical interpretations of early messages).

Compounding the issue, societal/continuing education is equally subjective.

Absent sufficient wisdom/critical thinking,

ongoing coming-of-age messages are infused within the expectation that one “toughen up”, “look after/out for yourself (and, your family)”, and accept that “most others can’t be trusted, for not everyone has the same heart as you do”.

I share all this to say that,

having filled in many of the (childhood) gaps of misunderstanding that–until now–had me dreading the prospect of enduring current and future (professional…and personal) relationships with wounded lasher-outers,

I get that having compassion and empathy doesn’t mean I must excuse and be subjected to other’s bad behavior–nor, they to mine.

Just because I (rightly or wrongly) think I understand where offenses are coming from–

how other people’s woundedness is playing out internally and in the social/societal arena–

doesn’t mean I should martyr myself…

or allow myself to be scapegoated…made to be a sacrificial lamb who distances herself for fear of becoming a snarling wolf when she realizes that protecting others from discomfort is a one way (Sesame) street.

I am, however, responsible for my continuing quest to ascend to higher ground…to adhere to an expanded frame of reference that includes my newest mantra:

In my bid to contribute to the “greater/higher good”, I will learn to set greater boundaries, and confront others in an authentic way that reflects love and honors my soul and theirs.

Given this perspective, I can see that the past couple weeks has provided me the opportunity to work through some old stuff…

For, because I have a pretty high tolerance,

it took being bombarded with some really intense negativity to motivate me to  to rise to the challenge.

Well, Dazzlers,

Sorry for the abrupt ending, but that’s all I have for now…I need to let my understanding percolate.

As I started with, this has been one of the most challenging chapters since I first determined to grow upword...

But, what a relief to know that I am becoming a pretty quick study!

I find that comes from not wasting as much time trying to sidestep the wisdom, messages, and divine signs coming by way of others’ generosity of spirit and hard won/shared revelations.

That’s why I long to connect with you, my friends….

I share my human frailties and unfoldings in unrelenting hope that it will continue to fuel my strength and intention to uplift myself and those I’m meant to.

Thank you for being here with me…for inspiring me…

I couldn’t do this invaluable part of process–this way–if not for you 🙂

God bless you and your loves 🙂

Affectionately,

Truly

P.S. Clarification for most of my wordplay/puns: My title is a Sesame Street pun (jokingly brought to you by the (other) letter ‘C’); Cherishables is my term of endearment/perishables pun.  Given that my affection will never expire/become stale, it ties my fresh and topsy turvy (backwords) pun together…and, topsy turvy also paves the way for my Ace Fern(tura) (“Ace Ventura Pet Detective” (1994, Jim Carey movie) pun (said backwards, it becomes Fern Ace (furnace);  peppered (sprinkled) and steak (through my bleating (as in plaintive cries)  (bleeding) heart makes for a pepper steak pun, and is tied to my barbs (rude comments), cues (triggers) barbecues puns.  You could not be expected to know that these puns are very loosely tied to furnace,  given that furnace made me think of my electric fireplace’s limitations…and that the closest I can get to an open flame is a barbecue; “blown a gasket“ is an expression meaning “to lose one’s temper–and, my furnace really did blow a gasket–inspiring me to tie the reality and expression together; froZen is my too-fed-up-and-cold-hearted-to-be-enlightened pun; (“Man-oh)Man, good humor melted…” begins as a backwords/topsy turvy pun–for, when I was a child, the Good Humor Man sold ice cream from his white truck…and, this memory paved the way for my “…Man, good humor melted as quickly as I can wolf down an ice cream treat pun “; Big Flop is a Big Top (Circus) pun tied to the expression, “Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys”, and, since I referenced this expression in a previous post, it paves the way for my return engagement and review wordplay.

P.P.S. The friend who hurt my feelings was so gracious and caring when I clumsily confronted the matter…what a great role model for me to follow 🙂

P.P.P.S. The pleasant furnace technician didn’t make a soothing comment about the repair, I added that for dramatic effect 🙂  However, within five minutes (the time it took for the surprise to wear off) I was able to look on the bright side–grateful that a blown gasket is much cheaper than having to purchase a new furnace! 🙂