Airplanes, and Elevators, and Migraines, Oh My!

     When we got out second dog, Kobi, our first dog, Dali, used him as somewhat of a coping mechanism.  She was terrified of most situations outside of the home and even had a hard time letting anyone touch her except for Eric and me.  One of the trainers at the kennel we would take them to when we would go out of town would always say, "You need to send Dali her by herself..." As a dog trainer I knew that was because they wanted to teach Dali to cope on her own.

     Seems she wasn't the only one that needed help in that area.

     I would never typically describe Eric and My's relationship as "co-dependant," but I have to say, and I'm not proud of this, is that for years I have used him as a coping mechanism just like Dali used Kobi.  Anything I feared I did with him and would certainly never do without him.  That option came to a screeching halt last week.  I had to travel to California on business.  Accountants don't travel as a rule unless you are an auditor, then that's a whole different enchilada, but typically your scope is right there in your cube.  I wasn't an accountant anymore, though, I'm now in Sales.  Salespeople travel....and Eric can't go with me.

     You are probably aware from my series last year on fear that there are some key things I'm afraid of, you know, besides sharks.   You may have gathered that I am afraid of flying and elevators, but what you may not have gathered is that I'm afraid of getting sick, particular having the kind of migraine that can send you to the hospital like I did a year and a half ago without Eric being there.  Doing this was completely not going to be easy at all and, I'll be honest, I did a lot of private crying and praying because I was having such a hard time with it all.  I shut down sometimes like I imagine Dali would have if we ever had sent her to the kennel alone all those years.

     Then the day came.  I had to go.  I kissed my husband and dog goodbye and cried halfway to the airport.  I was mad that other people my age didn't have these issues.  In my mind I was marching to my certain death, but no one else seemed to feel that way.  That or they were really good at hiding it.  I couldn't be the only one afraid of flying, could I?  I actually scheduled three of my co-workers, who were also going out there, on the same flight.  I couldn't be a blubbering mess in front of my co-workers.  I'll admit it; potential shame is an awesome fear killer.  It helps as well these people were funny and jokers, and faked screamed and shook my seat as we took off in order to make me laugh.

    Did I just use them to cope, too, like I do my husband?  I mean, Dali would be nice to anybody while staying at their house, then the minute Eric and I would be in the picture, she would turn around and nip them.  True story.  She was survivor.  Only problem was she didn't understand that she didn't need to do that.  She was going to be taken care of and not ever hurt by the person who's house she was staying at.  The only people she ever trusted completely not to hurt her were Eric and myself.  That fear was so ingrained in her very being, she just couldn't see past it...

   ...Oh my God...once again...I was the Bulldog.

   So, honestly, here is what I did before I was even seated, waiting to take off with my co-workers.  When I say this, know I don't care of what faith you are, or aren't, but it helps to have some kind of belief system, even if it's a tremendous faith in yourself, to get beyond a fear this deep.  For me, I prayed until I understood and felt that God was with me and I would be fine.  That took a tremendous amount of praying until I really felt His presence in my gut as if no one could hurt me.  Not this time.  Not this trip.  I don't think I could have gotten to that place if I didn't take the time to be with the issue, process it, roll it over in my mind, then really give it to someone higher than myself.  I wrestled with it for days before I left and somewhere in the airport, before I got on that plane, I made a peace with it.  I declared it done.  Over with.  I made a serious "leap of faith."

     I just knew I was going to be okay.  I weathered take-offs, turbulence, hotel elevators (all alone by myself I might add), and didn't get a single migraine.  I not only made it home okay, but I had a great time out in California.  I'll tell you what though, I hugged Kobi when I got home like I never had before.  I think I was trying to tell him I was sorry for everything with Dali.  The stress it must have been on him to take care of such a fearful companion...

     .....Go on, "Bubba," and relax.  Yours and "Daddy's" work are done.

Happy Fishing!

--Red

    

    

Fear is the Mindkiller - Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water

      For anyone that may have thought my fear of Jaws at the bottom of the swimming pool from the first blog in the "Fear in the Mindkiller" series was over the top irrational, I came across this meme of the Paranoid Parrot ...

     Once again, I'm surprised how many others that movie effected negatively.  I mean with a movie tagline like "You'll never go back in the water again," what did everyone expect?  But I digress...before I even really started my post!

      I've been thinking a lot over the last few weeks about how this whole process of writing things down to get them out and examine them is so crucial to the whole grabbing the starfish thing. I've never been one to keep a journal for cathartic purposes, but I guess that the function of many a blog in this day and age.  I started this blog a year ago with the hopes in finding my purpose in life and hopefully helping someone along the way.  The biggest thing I've learned?  I need to get out of my own way...well...that and that other people share alot of the same fears and roadblocks to the ocean.


     I guess I also really learned how to get our of my own way which is just as important as the need to do so.  Once I stripped the first two fears away, I started finding and addressing more. I have mild OCD, which I've mentioned before, and hoarder tendencies that, thankfully, are not great enough to get me on a show on A&E.  I am also deathly afraid of not getting enough sleep or setting my house on fire.  While these would make interesting stories, It's not that I don't want to tell them out of some sort of shame.  It's just that the outcome would be the same.  I now understand better where the basis for my fears come from. I've learned to deconstruct them and take small, life changing steps, to get beyond them.  When I look back, I realize I've done a lot of talking about small steps.  It's been the easiest way to overcome overwhelmedness, develop a road back to health, come to terms with past pain or really just put any plans I have into action.

    My high school friend, Geoff, recently posted a note about fear in Facebook when talking about a situation from his life.  "The human mind is an amazing and adaptive thing, and I like to think that in my life, like with skydiving I have overcome most of my fears. I still have an healthy fear of snakes, and a few other fears like that, but for the most part, I have no overwhelming phobias. ...It took me several years to overcome my fear of leaving, something I know that I had wanted and needed to do to continue my life and make myself happy, but fear kept me in that situation much longer that I needed to be in it, fear of the unknown, fear of what I would do, fear of what she would do, fear of how she would react, fear of being alone. But finally it came to the point where I had to let go of the airplane wing, and again, after a couple months of panic, I am much happier than I had been."

     "Several years"...baby steps...but he did it.  You just have to know it's not an overnight fix, but a lifetime lifestyle change for the better if you can just get started...

     So everyone say it with me once again...
    
     I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.
     Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
     I will face my fear.
     I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
    And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
    Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
    Only I will remain.

     "Only I will remain"...I recently remembered that when I was a little girl, one of my favorite games was to splash around in a pool and pretend I was a seal.  I want to remember what that time in my life felt like emotionally. I would just swim around with excitement and a love for whatever was next on life's journey.   After the last year, I've gotten to the beach and so time to start wading in...I can't let fear and any lack of momentum stop me...unless...




     ACK!!!!!   ...remember the Jaws2 movie tagline was, "Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water..."



     Okay...that's better....baby steps...whew...


     Happy Fishing,

     --Red

Fear is the Mindkiller - Part 3 - The Giant Snowball

     I used to watch a lot of those Rankin Bass stop animation Christmas specials as a kid. Still do. You'd think by the title of the blog this week that I am afraid of the Bumble from Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer. I'm afraid of someone much scarier...

     ...I'm afraid of Dave Ramsey...

     I'd assume Dave Ramsey is pretty scary to most people. If you aren't familiar with him, he's a financial guru of sorts who has helped millions of people stop using credit and get out of debt. Shouldn't be scary, right? Should be inspirational borderline uplifting, yes? Not if you have fears concerning money...or lack of the availability of it.

     I mentioned in my last post (Fear is the Mindkiller - Part 2 - The Hunger Games -April 9, 2012) how I went through a period of time in college when money was scarce. Unfortunately, this part of my life would not only create an eating disorder, but would contribute ultimately to my abuse of credit.

     According to Dave Ramsey, no one needs credit. You can live without it. You save $1000, then start paying down your debts one by one. The majority of your money each month going to one of your debts until its paid off. That's the snowball I talked about earlier. When that's done you pick another debt to snowball and so on and so on until they are all gone. Now, if something happens, as it always does in life, you use that initial savings instead of using your credit. Then you replenish the savings first before going back to snowballing. There is more to it, but that's the general idea.

     Sounds easy. Dave's a smart guy. To someone who believes that, even though she has a great job and enough cash coming in to live comfortably, she may run out of cash at any moment, using cash only is a terrifying concept.

     I have not always been the picture of perfection with finances. To make things worse, there were a few years recently of every appliance in the house giving out, every animal having health problems (they are all seniors), and my car breaking down on a regular basis. Oh, did I mention the dead animals in the attic that needed extracting, too? Anyway, it just made a bad situation worse. While these events were more of an emergency nature, I was just adding on top of the debt I already had...and there I was, just paying minimum payments because I was scared I'd run out of cash for when I really needed it...

     Many of my friend's have been through Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University. Everyone has extolled the virtues of this man and his program. I could not conceive how, with everything breaking down and getting sick, I could even attempt this whole getting out of debt thing. Not to mention, getting over the fear of thinking I'll never have enough cash on hand and may go hungry or homeless or whatever.

     I hated feeling like this. I wanted it to stop. I ordered Dave Ramsey's book from Amazon.com ( and yes, I used a credit card; don't judge.). I had realized I couldn't move forward with "starfishing" if I didn't do something about this part of my life.

     I read it and amazingly I got it. Okay; saved my grand. That was easy; remember, I wasn't spending any cash money... Now to never use credit cards again...

     ...um...gulp...what?  But...uh...um...what if I...uh...

     I was in trouble.  I felt so nervous.  Literally sick with anxiety over the thought of making myself not drag out the plastic.


     ...Then I took the plunge...


     I remember the first cash use only purchase.  A dog.  In the vet's office.  Again.  With the thought of regret coursing through my veins, I handed them my debit card.  The card that would go straight to my bank account.  My cash.  My supposed safety.  It was so tremendously hard letting go of that money.  I had to keep talking myself into it.  "You have a savings now.  It's okay..."

     Then I made it through the next month of bills no problem.  I could pay for everything we needed.  It really was okay.  We didn't go without groceries.  There were no earth shattering events sent straight from the heavens to wipe out my cash and put us on the street.  I was going to be okay.

     The first purchase led to more cash only purchases. Vet bills, a kitchen table and chairs, getting my hair done, getting my oil changed, clothing, a new portable P.A. system for singing through, etc.  All paid for with cash.  Now don't get me wrong.  I don't have an endless supply of cash. I'm not, shall we say, "rolling in it."  I have to save up and budget for things.  The point is I'm not further in debt.  I don't keep adding to it because of my fears.  I just needed someone to show me it would be alright.

     I had a lot of purchases to make over the last week.  Specialized cat food, solution for the air conditioner drain, even a trip to the urgent care for a spider bite I got while gardening.  I did have a few panicky moments for sure because there were a lot of things I needed to purchase and I my internal dialog was seriously worried about having cash.  I would tell myself I had planned well and everything would be alright. 

     Maybe I've got this one.  Maybe I just have to keep telling myself it's okay and I'll be fine as many times as it takes.  Maybe I have to apply that to more than just my finances...

     ...Now...can someone help me do that with the whole Jaws/swimming pool thing (Fear is the Mindkiller - March 15, 2012)?


Happy Fishing!      

--Red

Fear is the Mindkiller

    For alot of my friends, Fear is the Mindkiller is an awesome EP by the band Fear Factory, of which I am a huge fan, but the phrase actually comes from elsewhere...

    This phrase comes from the book Dune by Frank Herbert. It's part of the litany against fear which is an incantation used by the Bene Gesserit throughout the Dune series to focus their minds and calm themselves in times of peril. The litany is as follows:

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.

     The litany is taught to Paul, Bene Gesserit Lady Jessica's son, who recites it when faced with a test of his ability to deal with immense pain.

     I didn't read the book, but I did watch the movie.  I'm a big David Lynch fan.  However, the litany is shorter in the movie.  While I wonder what it will be like in the remake, I am sad there will be a remake...and if anyone ever touches a John Hughes film I will loose it...but I digress...

     Since I have been taking the "donkey" during the Lenten season (You can take the donkey, or you can take the tram... - February 21, 2012), I have been able to slow down and clearly identify all the little things that may stand in my way of getting to the "rim."   The funny thing about that is my husband, Eric, and I actually had a conversation about Santorini, Greece after that blog. "You know, we could never go to Santorini, Greece...," he said. "What?"  "Well, besides the fact that you are afraid of flying over water, we couldn't take the tram to the top because of your fear of heights."  So in order to stop him right there, and take the focus a little off of my shortcomings I interjected, "...And we couldn't spend 8 hours on the back of a donkey because of both of our backs..."

     Okay, seriously, anyone ever see the movie Airport '77?  They crash in the water, people! Okay this movie came out in 1977 when I was what...9 year old...maybe not the best parenting to let me see this Mom and Dad, but it sure has stayed with me all these years.  Of course if you remember I was also allowed to see see Jaws when I was young and that killed my marine biology career (You have to do math before you do algebra - June 12, 2011).  I think the initial fear of heights came from being made to ride Space Mountain at Disney World when I was, once again, way too young to do so.  I mean c'mon, my first roller coaster ride...then halfway in the dark?  What did you think might happen?  Then there was the time in college I got stuck in an elevator at the top of a seventeen story building with no way out until it finally started descending minutes (which seemed like hours) later.  Oh! Have I mentioned I got stuck in a work elevator two more times after that incident?  This is probably why I'm claustrophobic as well as afraid of heights...

     So, maybe these seem like irrational fears.  I mean the odds of being killed on an airline flight are 1 in 29.4 million.  The odds of getting stuck in an elevator are once in a person's lifetime based on pretty regular elevator use, and well, I'm over my quota!  In addition, the odds of dying on a roller coaster are 1 in 300 million.  While we're at it, the odds of being involved in a shark attack in America are 1 in 10,000,000.

     ....The odds of Jaws showing up in my swimming pool are 0...

     So what the heck?  Aside from the elevator thing, since I'm well over my quota as we assessed, why am I consumed by irrational fears?  For that we have to examine the very elemental properties of fear.

   I learned in dog training that a puppy has to be socialized to seven different kinds of people, places, textures, etc., and make sure they have a good experience doing so.  Why?  Because fear is an innate mechanism designed to help protect them from predators.  It's a survival instinct of sorts.   So, if your puppy grows up never seeing a person in a hat, or if during it's socialization period a person in a hat jumps out at them to scare them, the puppy will have a pretty strong reaction to people in hats and either try to get away or attack essentially.

   So would you probably.  All people have an instinctual reaction to things they think that can possibly hurt them.  People develop their specific fears through exposures, or lack thereof, as well.  Fear in humans often times develops due to a traumatic event...

   ...like going on a roller coaster in the dark...

   The problem I'm having is not a burning desire to go to Santorini, Greece, no matter how beautiful it is.  I don't really feel like I'm missing out by not riding roller coasters.  The elevator thing, well, it can get in the way, but there are normally stairs if I'm too freaked out.  In fact, I think it's perfectly rational, since I am miss-stuck-in-an-elevator-more-times-than-she-should-be-in-a-lifetime, that I have a little anxiety about elevators.  However, I am noticing other fears that may be hampering or could conceivable diminish my ability to grab the "starfish."  So, I'm going to work them out here, like I do with most things.  Publicly....

    ...and I am going to have to find alot more statistics... 
  
     Did I mention someone got stuck in the elevator today at work?  So say it with me, "I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.  Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.  I will face my fear...."

     Now if someone will just remove Jaws from the swimming pool...

Happy Fishing!

--Red
   

You can take the donkey or you can take the tram...

    I love comedian Ron White.  He told this story in his "You Can't Fix Stupid" comedy tour:

    "So we make it to Santorini, and Santorini is on the rim of an ancient volcano. And for 2000 years, folks, the only way to get to the top of the rim on the port side of the island was to take a donkey 800 feet up these switchbacks, takes forever. Until 5 years ago, somebody installed a tram that does the same thing in 18 seconds. And I was shocked to see the donkey guy still in business because he had the worst sales pitch I had ever heard in my life. He says, "You can take the donkey to the top of the rim, or you can take the tram. It is the same price." That would be my biggest secret if I were you, buddy. I'd be lying to people as soon as they got off the ship. "The donkey is $3.50. The tram is about 2800 Euro."

    What I didn't realize, and probably Ron didn't realize, is this is a great analogy for facing whatever the thing is you need to do with your life, considering that is "the top of the rim..."

     I credit my husband, Eric, for bringing this to my attention.  Remember, I've been studying John Ortberg's The Me I Want to Be, and I was talking about how the study ended.  Otberg talks about finding your "mountain" or your challenge in life.  I guess the "mountain" is very much like the "starfish," and everyone has their metaphor, so you get the point.  It's what happens when I get to the "mountain," "starfish," or what have you, that made Eric spout off this particular Ron White quote...

    ...I quite nearly curl up in the fetal position with overwhelmedness (I don't even know if that's a real word, but describes the situation quote perfectly).

     I get to the "mountain," "starfish," again, what have you, and I just can't take another step towards it.  I talked a little bit before about feeling overwhelmed before (see "Put One Foot in Front of The Other," October 5, 2011), and now that it seems I really understand what that Starfish is bobbing in the water - or the "mountain" or what have you - the feeling of moving forward is getting well...overwhelming...

     The mountain looming above my head is huge... unfortunately I feel like I'm on the donkey.  There is so much to do and it will take so long to do it...and where in the heck is that freaking tram!  How can the tram and the donkey be the same price!?!  Ron's right; worst sales pitch ever!

    ...Or was it?

    Have you ever seen Santorini, Greece?

     And here's a donkey...

       But I digress...

       Look back at the first picture!  Gorgeous!  I encourage you to Google "Santorini" and really look at the pictures.  Absolutely stunning.  Why would I want to take the tram and miss all the beauty along the way...

       ...welcome to my new metaphor...

      If I don't take the "donkey" I'm going to miss the experience of going up to the "the top of the rim."  I won't absorb all of the beauty of the creation.  If I take the "tram" the experience will be fast and ultimately not as satisfying on some levels. The "donkey" and the "tram" are the same price.  You get there whether you dive fully into creation or cut corners just to get it over with, but shouldn't your "rim," "mountain," "starfish,' or what have you, be something you take your time with, enjoy the journey with, and put your soul into? Something of which you aren't racing to get to the end?  Something that shouldn't make you feel overwhelmed because it isn't stronger than you; it is you...

     I still remember standing in the kitchen telling Eric about the concept of the "mountain" and my reluctance to go up it.  He turns to me and says, "You can take the tram, or you can take the donkey; it is the same price."  Maybe Ron White didn't realize his routine would become a great analogy, but my husband did. 

    The Lenten season for Christians is upon  us.  Lent is more than giving up something you love like chocolate, coffee, or cheese for forty days and then go right back to consumption.  Lent is a season of soul-searching, reflection and taking stock.  I try to give up what I would consider a "bad habit" of sorts.  Something that at the end of forty days, could really change my life...

     ...For the next forty days, and just maybe from now on, I'm taking the donkey.

Happy Fishing!

--Red

Silly love songs...

     "Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs...and what's wrong with that?" - Paul McCartney

     Nothing...if you can write them!

     I can't write love songs.  It actually says more about me than you may guess.  I can write songs about pain, anger, despair, longing, you name it.  I can't write love songs.  The urge doesn't even occur to me.

    I wrote one once...sort of.  On my previous band's first CD there was this kind of bluesy rocky song called "My Only Friend."  It's about my husband, but it's not mushy, or I guess for the purposes of this blog, silly, in the least.  It's actually somewhat wistful.  I mean, just look at the title; my only friend?!?! What was I..a member of The Smiths (please tell me everyone reading gets that reference)?  Sigh...I guess it's truly a problem.  Not just in my songwriting life, but my personal one as well.

    The reason I can write songs about things like pain and anger is because ultimately I am much more in touch with these emotions than I am with the unbridled joy that is love.  On the same CD's title track, "I Just Might," I actually make a reference to not understanding how unconditional love can exist.  Wow...troubled much?

     I shouldn't be surprised.  My Mother raised us to tell her "I love you" even if we didn't feel like it.  "Love" was about a show for the neighbors and not about truly feeling anything.  I should probably take this moment to inform you that my mother was a huge fan of Joan Crawford's parenting skills and idolized Hitler.  I should also let you know that last sentence wasn't sarcasm.  Unfortunately, this pattern emerged in my social life.  I can toss around the words "I love you" very easily...as long as I don't mean it.   When you think about it, a little girl ultimately loves their Mother, forced to or not. When that relationship turns ugly for whatever reason the fear grows that all love is that way.  The sheer abandonment issues are crippling.  Why would I have ever understood or have been expected to understand love?  I'm not cold or hard; just severely lacking in appropriate expression.  Trust me; I feel.  I feel deeply.

     Talking about coping skills lately (see "What Doesn't Kill You..." January 29, 2012) has led me to think about this area of my life a little more closely.  If  you are going to get to the "starfish," I realize that you may need some help.  You may need to be open to others. You just might have to stop being afraid of putting yourself out there and getting hurt. 

     I'm currently attanding a study of the book The Me I Want to Be by John Ortberg.  Ortberg says, “When you are loved, it is not just that you receive more from someone else, but also that you become more yourself.  You-ier.  Love brings the power to become the me I want to be.  Loving people are literally live-givers.  That is connectedness.”  I think the saying goes, "you gotta give love to get love," or something like that.  There is another saying that goes, "if you love something set it free.  If it comes back, it's yours.  If it doesn't, hunt it down and kill it!"  Okay; that last sentence did have sarcasm, but you see the problem here. 

     Ortberg goes on to say, "You can be loved best when you are fully known – willing to take off the mask and share your heart.  To be fully known takes courage."  He also has a personality test that shows you may behave, based actually on your strengths, when things don't go your way.  Guess what I do?  C'mon...guess...I withdraw!  I wallow in my despair.  I am in The Smiths (Okay, if you don't get that reference there is Wikipedia .  I never got as sorrowful as to write a song called "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now," but I can completely relate)!

     How weird is it that I'm thinking about all of this on Valentine's Day?  But I digress...

     You can be loved best when you are fully known – willing to take off the mask and share your heart. To be fully known takes courage...I guess that's it.  That's how you do it.  I guess that's what I am doing in a way.  I just have to do it more in front of the family and friends that are close to me instead of a faceless (okay...not totally faceless; my picture is in the "about me" section) blog.  Maybe the blog has become a coping skill.  This is the way I work things out so I can be a better friend, a better member of the community and world as a whole.  I write all the not so desirable things about myself and past events so I can be fully known...That's what I do..I write...

     Don't think that I'm going to go out and start writing love songs.  I may have to take the John Lennon position on that.  I am going to do my best to stop withdrawing and meet love head on.  It won't be easy, but I think I have a greater understanding how unconditional love can exist...oh yeah...someone is selling my band's CD on Ebay.  Go ahead...I don't need it...

Happy Fishing!

--Red

    

   

Scabs

     I noticed something interesting about myself after that last posting.  Well...I almost noticed it during the last posting, but what I have noticed is I have already become profoundly different after ripping off that band aid...

     I've had a new job for the last five months.  Most people there did not know about the previous band I was in. The idea of an Accountant who was a former metal front person is amusing, so I indulged a few by passing out a couple of copies of our last CD...our last CD from ten years ago mind you!  There was one requirement I asked of those listening:  don't judge!  I had already admitted to a few flat notes and music that fit a metal genre past it's prime, so I was fully aware of the shortcomings of my talent.  I didn't need a reminder.

     What would happen over the course of that afternoon was surprising.  The reviews were actually good!  It was the review by my co-worker Teresa where I would notice how my thoughts had shifted after the publication of the last blog. She loved my rapping (yes...I rap...), but really loved my singing!  She told me how she had favorite songs and how she listened to it twice and was going to listen to it again...

     ...and I said..."Thank you."  Without cringing, without playing it off, without running myself down, I said, "Thank you!"

    I had never been able to fully handle a compliment before in my life.  I have friends that actually recognized this in me and would yell across a room, "Red!  Just say, 'Thank you!'"  It may have looked like humility, but it was purely feeling unworthy of praise.

    Something happened when I faced those words on the computer screen last week.  It was out there.  It couldn't hurt me any more.  I was looking at them and absorbing while at the same time releasing their ugliness.  I actually felt myself fighting for me while writing them.  I kept wanting to throw "buts" in there.  I'm this, but also I'm this.  The second "this" was something more noble; something more beautiful.  I wanted the full effect of this cathartic process, so I left out the "buts," however, I left the process more confident...more healed if you will.

     A scab is defined as a "wound healing reconstruction phrase."  I think that's where I am in all of this Starfish grabbing... 

     If you rip off the band aid, quickly, with no "buts," you may find you are healing underneath.  I'm not saying I will never pick at it, but I do know that another scab will form until one day I let the would heal completely.


Happy Fishing!

--Red
  

Speed Bumps and Band Aids

A recent incident with an acquaintance brought me to a stark revelation: I am deathly afraid of criticism...

...Wow...didn't think of that before I uploaded that XFactor video audition...

Anyone who drives will tell you that they don't like speed bumps. Neighborhoods will lobby to have them put in for the safety of their children, but will still harbor a loathing in their hearts for them. The reason is twofold; first, they stop your most likely hurried progress forward in a big way, and second, you have to take them at such a slow, gingerly albeit painstaking pace just to get you and your car over them unscathed.

Welcome to my speed bump.

I can honestly say I've gotten better about it over the years, but that icky feeling of possible judgement always seems to be lurking. If I'm going to get anywhere with this whole Starfish grabbing stuff, I've got to get over this...fast!

So I'm left with the question do I treat this like a speed bump, and go over it slowly until I can get back to my normal pace or do I treat it like a band aid and just rip it off with a momentary intense pain but I can be okay in like five minutes? Can you do that with something so deep seeded?

Have you seen the end of the movie 8 Mile? Rabbit, portrayed by Eminem, decides in order to win the rap battle and get over the fear of "choking" and being laughed at, criticized if you will, for it, he has to do something drastic. Rap battles are a lot like "your mama's so fat..." contests. Who can throw the best insults at the other people using the most prolific rhymes.

Rabbit has heard all his life that he won't amount to anything and that what he wants is sincerely out of his league. I particularly liked the ending of 8 Mile because I've felt the same way. From the time I was probably around twelve years old I heard from my mother how I would never sing as good as, be as pretty as, be as smart as, or be anything like my mother. Apparently, she either thought a lot of herself, or was just trying to cover up her fear of being criticized by making someone else feel bad about themselves. Classic profile of a bully...and I was bullied a lot...

So back to speed bumps or band aids. Given the rich emotional tapestry that has been my life, one would think I would need to take the caution, slow down way to get over this...

I cant help thinking though that there was a reason Eminem's character was nick named Rabbit and it wasn't just because as a kid he was cute. I suspect it had something to do with being quick as well. Getting over his fear, and winning the battle, had to do with owning who he was. He had to say it before they did...

Time to rip off the band aid...

I am a dork.  I am goofy, sometimes too cheerful, and can be utterly obnoxious. I can make jokes that fall flat and be unflatteringly loud.  I am often times really tired and boring. I am slightly overweight and have forgotten how to dress fashionably. I don't know what I am doing most of the time and should think before I speak.  I am not the best at most things and have been mediocre at a great many.  I sometimes sing flat and have problem finding pitch.  I may not write about anything you care about, think is clever, or remotely ever make you believe I was an English major...

...and after seeing it all written in front of me, I am a lot less afraid of criticism...and it only hurt for a moment.

Happy Fishing!

--Red