Lessons in HUMILITY and LETTING GO!

My lessons in HUMILITY and LETTING GO.    

 

For those of you who know me, you undoubtedly will agree that self-esteem isn’t one of the characteristics that I have ever personally needed to boost.  As a matter of fact, I have always needed lessons in humility.  I was born a self-assured individual.  Almost immediately upon exiting the safe confines of my mother’s womb, I locked eyes with, stared down, and as my mother would tell the story, intimidated the gracious woman that had just labored to bring me into the world.  The confidence I was born with was fostered by my parents and in my upbringing.  It was just part of me.  I rarely faltered in believing in myself and meeting life’s challenges head on. 

 

Things changed when I got sick and came face to face with a disease that attacks the very core of a persons being.  It isn’t easy to see your body and mind change and falter.  It was even more challenging to realize that this was not something that I could control.  And so, I suddenly became aware of “chinks” in the armor of self-confidence I had acquired over the years.  As a result of having CUSHINGS DISEASE and the years worth of battles that have ensured, my body, mind, and soul are showing the signs of war.  I am challenged daily to see and accept who I am and where I am.  It seems so easy to say to someone that the events and incidents in their lives make them who they are.  Yet, living that very sentiment when faced with changes that you are unfamiliar with can be daunting to say the least. 

 

And so it goes that I continue to learn from the events and things that occur along my journey.  Some lessons don’t come right away.  My timeline and the timeline of the powers that be are rarely in sync.  This simple fact is frustrating enough for me, as I am one who likes things to happen in a timely, organized, efficient manner.  However, I am constantly reminded that my way isn’t that “be all – end all,” and is rarely the direction in which my journey is headed.  And so I hang on for dear life. 

 

Sometimes the lessons that come to me are quite enlightening.  In these lessons I gain a sense of personal achievement and inner growth.  Other times, the lessons that I learn are but simply for the enjoyment of others…and the humiliation of myself.  These two stories that I will share with you are great examples of just this.  While they occurred years apart, I have found there to be an amazing correlation between the stories, as well as a direct link to the process that my journey has been so far and the place in which I find myself today.  This place is about understanding, accepting and LETTING GO! 

 

This story begins in Las Vegas, approximately two years prior to the catapult of my CUSHINGS journey.  At the time I had no idea that the constant, debilitating migraine headaches I had begun to have were in fact, red light warnings of the “construction zone,” (i.e. CUSHINGS DISEASE), that was just arriving on my horizon. 

 

My migraines, while insufferable, had become a recognizable part of my life.  I assumed they were a result of the intolerable heat of the Las Vegas summers, and had learned to recognize the early warning signs.  Being aware of my personal limitations, I could accurately judge the time I needed from the moment my symptoms began until I needed to home in a dark bedroom with the air conditioner raging.  It had all become second nature.  I had a system that was practically perfect. 

 

One hot summer day, I found myself racing toward home and my safety zone as my migraine was pushing in on me quicker than I had anticipated.  As I pulled into the garage, I was already shedding bits clothing that was beginning to bind and irritate me.  As I entered the house I began the ritualistic closing of blinds and cranking down the air conditioning as I made a “b-line” for the relief of my cold, dark bed.  Just as I reached the landing upstairs, the door bell rang.  In case you were wondering the bell ringing and the impending barking of the dog did nothing to ease the pounding in my head.  I cursed and retreated back downstairs when I noticed that it was the UPS man at the front door and he obviously needed a signature since he had yet to stop ringing the blasted door bell. 

My irritation at his incessant banging and ringing was only shrouded by the fact that my head felt as though a nuclear bomb had just gone off next to the base of my brain.  The sooner I could get him off my front porch, the quicker I could return to my dark, cold, cave and sleep off the pain.  After corralling the dog I flung open the front door and all but ripped the package and the signature box from the UPS driver’s hands.  I quickly scribbled something less than legible and handed my signature back to him.  The UPS driver stood there without responding.  This just irritated me more.  If you have ever had a migraine, you know that things tend to seem as if they are in slow motion, but it seemed that the slowness was affecting him more than me.  I couldn’t believe this ape was standing there taking so long.  As we stood there staring at each other, me squinting in pain from the desert sun, and him frozen in his stance, I mustered up a nasty hiss through my nausea to see if he needed anything else.  I barely caught his muffled “NUH-UH” as I slammed the door and headed for the bedroom.

 

As I passed the mirror in the hallway something reached through the fog in my brain and I faintly recognized a warning siren that was shrieking.  Something was amiss.  Suddenly, I knew what it was.  I froze.  As I whipped around to face the mirror, I noted through the glass on the front door that the UPS man still standing stupefied on the porch.  I grimaced and opened my eyes to my reflection to confirm that I had in fact, answered the door, signed for a package, and spoke with another person in nothing more than my birthday suit!  YES!  STARK NAKED! 

 

I took some solace in the fact that I was young, perky, and trim, not to mention I had most likely just provided that UPS man with the story of his career.  However, I was horrified and humiliated and needless to say, I avoided the UPS man for quite some time.  This story and my humiliation brought peels of laughter as my boyfriend, (now husband) took great joy is sharing my faupax as if it was a great “bar trick.”  I however, still cringed and blushed profusely every time I thought about it or the story was relayed. 

 

Ironically, this story re-surfaced recently.  And while time had lessened the prick of humiliation, another emotion accompanied it this time.  This time humiliation and my pride made me feel the need to explain that it was “when I was younger” and “when I had a better body” that this UPS story had occurred.  This time I was swamped with self-judgment and a lacking feeling of self-worth.  I was sure that the people hearing this story were thinking terrible things about my body.  And while the two emotions I felt were similar, the later, the self judgment, seemed to be the most damaging.  The idea of how insecure I was with my physical appearance and the feeling of being uncomfortable in my own skin was a terrific weight on my soul that I couldn’t shake.  In all honesty, I had to admit that it was just the “straw that broke the camel’s back.”  Due to CUSHINGS and the uncontrollable changes that it caused, as I mentioned, I have been waging war with my self-esteem for quite some time.  And while I had grown almost comfortable with this war, suddenly the bombs of doubt and judgment were falling all around me.  And the internal war waged on. 

 

Then, while preparing for house guests recently, I had the opportunity to submerge myself into my own thoughts, self-analysis and soul cleansing that usually accompanies a good house cleaning binge.  Of course, with a little picking, and some over zealous evaluation, suddenly, the scar that self esteem issues leave can once again become an open wound.  This was exactly what I subjected myself to.  After dwelling on this for far too long, I came to the conclusion that it was self-imposed emotional baggage based on superficial image and that needed to LET GO!  But as we all know that is easier said than done and I continued to mull it over.  UNTIL….

 

Until I was handed the last part of my lesson.

 

Let me back track a little to explain the day’s activities.  As I mentioned, I was expecting house guests and so had gotten up early to get some things done.  As a matter of fact, by 8:30 AM, I had accomplished more that I am able to do on most days.  Not being a morning person and not sleeping between the hours of 3 - 6AM do not make for a happy or ambitious “me” most days before 11 AM.  However, this particular morning found me busy and efficiently crossing many an item off my to-do list.  These lists used to be one of those overly organized tendencies that I had that fed and fostered my need for accomplishment.  However, now-a-days they are simply a necessity to keep me on track and prevent me from loosing my way as a result of what we fondly call my “brain farts.”  Yet another glorious side effect from the CUSHINGS.  But that is whole other issue that we will leave be for the time being. 

 

So, as I mentioned my morning had gone well.  I was cruising through my list of chores at a healthy clip.  And as the morning went on, and time ticked by, I kept up my head of steam but was thankful as I was down to the last few things on the list.  I began to slow a bit and lingered in the sense of accomplishment that I was relishing as I grabbed the bundled up trash and headed out the front door to add it to the collection at the curb. 

 

As I exited the house and meandered down the front steps with the dog on my heels, I casually noticed a yard maintenance crew that was stopped on the road in front of our house.  The truck was stopped and two workers were standing at the back of their trailer securing a piece of machinery that had come loose.  In the back of my mind, I vaguely noticed the quick snap of their heads, and despite the warning siren that was beginning to sound somewhere in my brain, I dismissed the attention and accredited it to the fact that they were concerned about the dog.  I plodded down all the stairs at the front of my house, walked along the driveway, stopped to kick a landscape rock back into place and once again noticed that these two men were actually staring at me.  I crinkled my nose, rolled my eyes and proceeded to dump my trash.  I then made my way back to the front steps, stopping to bend over and pull a couple weeds and once again noted the fixed attention of these random yard workers. 

 

Not willing to relinquish victory or feel uncomfortable on my own property because these two men were so rudely eyeballing me, I spun around, and stared them down.  I was surprised to see that neither man flinched and so I stomped into the house feeling annoyed but a little flustered at the same time.  Upon closing the door behind me, I finally focused enough to register the warning siren that was now screaming in my brain.  Something was wrong, but my foggy CUSHINGS brain was having difficulty focusing in on the issue.  I double checked the door lock to ensure my security and plodded up the stairs to the dining room where I came face to face with the reason for the internal warning sirens. 

 

There, hanging on the back of one of my dining room chairs was my shirt that I had removed an hour or so earlier when the morning’s activity had begun to over-heat my body.  I stood and stared for a moment in disbelief.  Then for the sheer shock value, and because I was totally unable to drop my eyes to my torso, I bolted for the bathroom mirror.  There I stood, gasping with my hand to my mouth looking at the reflection of a saggy thirty-something CUSHY body with nothing more than a bright blue toned, ratty, old push-up bra and Capri pants.  Again, I found myself feeling mortified.  I rushed back to the front room and peered around the window frame hoping that the men I had seen out front were mere figments of my imagination.  NO SUCH LUCK!  As a matter of fact they were obviously thoroughly enjoying the show they had just seen as they were talking and pointing at my house. 

 

As they turned to look my way, I smashed my body against the wall to avoid being seen in my bra and slid to the floor.  As I slid down the length of the wall to the crouching position attempting to stay out of sight the irony of the situation hit me.  Not only had I just been waging war with myself esteem and body image, but then I had pranced out into broad daylight and exposed myself with what must have looked like great audacity, and was now hiding below the window to avoid being seen in my bra!  …by the very men who had just been able to see not only the bra, but all sorts of other atrocities as I bent, tugged, pulled, plopped, and bounced my way around the front yard. 

 

I’m pretty sure the hysterics, peels of laughter and tears that followed were a result of the melting pot of emotions that I had been forced to address.  The lessons I was being served were coming to me on a silver platter.  There would be no avoiding, there would be no rationalizing, and there would be no ignoring.  Honestly, who could ignore what I was putting out there for the world to see. 
 

This was my lesson.  What was I being told?  I have to believe that after tossing the issue around and coming to no solid conclusion, my subconscious was taking over.  My rational mind was clinging to a previous skewed sense of self; a Cinderella story that I had made up to ease my own mind; a delusion that no matter how I tried to rationalize, was a ridiculous scale to which I was trying to measure myself.  I got the HUMILIATION part of the lesson.  I had a good dose of that during round one in Las Vegas.  But the part of the lesson that I need to grasp this time was the LETTING GO. 

 

As I sat in my entry way I was swamped with emotion.  I cried as I mourned the loss of the ideals and dreams I had grown comfortable clinging to, knowing it was now time to release them.  I was overcome by sadness for the lost time I had wasted measuring myself by an unrealistic standard instead of loving myself as I was.  Then I laughed heartily remembering my experience in Las Vegas and my most resent parade down the driveway. As the giggles drifted away, I was overcome with a sense of strength and resolve that it was time to LET GO!

 

LET GO!  It is so easy to say.  It is so easy to think about.  But it is one of the hardest things to do.  No matter what the circumstance may be, clinging to the familiar presents no challenge.  Following in the tracks we have ground into our comfort zones can be done without effort.  Holding fast to unchanged ideals, dreams and goals offers us no challenge.  Status quo isn’t bad, but offers no growth.  LETTING GO makes us strive.  LETTING GO makes us readjust.  LETTING GO helps us learn.

 

Here’s to each of us having the strength of character to take our lessons in humility, and more importantly, the insight to know when to LET GO!