We all have anxieties, regrets, fears – and often we blame ourselves for events we may not cause, or events in which we share responsibility, but are too quick to own it in entirety.
We take comfort in telling ourselves that if we acted differently, things might have turned out differently. It’s difficult to accept that in some situations, nothing we say or don’t say, do or don’t do – can change the outcome.
At times, taking responsibility for a bad situation is a way of feeling in control. But how often do we fool ourselves even in that, and stop there, afraid to dig deeper?
What if we try to identify the underlying reasons that yet another relationship has ended, that we haven’t lost that 20 pounds, that we haven’t written the Great American Novel or succeeded at any entrepreneurial business venture? What if we attempted to seek – and then speak – the origins of why we’re stymied or stuck?
Do you know what’s really holding you back? Are you strong enough to go there, to face it, to take necessary steps to change what you can, to reset goals and attitudes if what you find demands it?
Anxiety in Troubled Times
Anxious?
How could we not be anxious in these troubled times? The unforeseen can happen to any of us and it is all too frequently out of our hands. In this economy, millions have lost jobs, homes, and access to health care – through no fault of their own.
But there are other sources of anxiety that may make recovery more difficult. The wounds left by shaky childhoods, bruised self-esteem, long-entrenched doubt.
I know my demons:
- Critical voices are a long-term presence in my inner dialog. They are unkind and even cruel. They leave me alone for extended periods of time. And then they reappear, they shut me down, they fight me.
- Unhealthy habits return in the toughest times, but I recognize their approach and their modus operandi, and I’ve learned tricks of my own to send them packing.
Fear, Fear, Fear
Some of us suffer from fear of success; the reasons vary.
Some of us suffer from fear of failure; likewise, the result of a personal journey.
Most of us fear being foolish, unloved, in pain, abandoned; each fear is exacerbated when we hear of others who are betrayed by family, left by spouses, divorced unilaterally, laid off without notice, hopeless – despite years of working and paying their bills. Powerless – at least temporarily – from being on the receiving end of any of these events.
We act as though hardship is contagious; we back off, in a sort of self-protective denial.
We think this is the better way, when in fact we ought to face our own fears.
Say Hello to Your Monsters
A wise man wrote recently of Zombies and fear, of confronting his fear, of disarming it in the act of greeting it.
It takes courage to say hello to your monsters. To do so, over and over again. To be willing to hear what they have to say, and to deal with the dialog that will likely result.
I may know my demons and their weaponry, but that doesn’t mean that I can defeat them by acknowledging and then looking away. I sense that I must speak to them. I sense that I must then listen.
They may visit daily, or monthly, or whenever they are triggered to emerge at their strongest which seems to be when I am at my weakest – situationally or emotionally vulnerable – worried over money, over a child; feeling isolated, frustrated, exhausted.
But I’m fortunate in knowing who and what my demons are, even if I have yet to steel myself to engage them more actively, to set the stage for peace talks, and aim for a workable truce with them rather than finding myself in perpetual battle.
Awareness Won’t Cure All, But It Sure Can’t Hurt
I believe we carry the tenderness of our upbringing and the joys of our life experience into everything we do, and everything we are. But equally, we bear the burdens of our hurts and bewilderment that those we love have harmed us.
I’m not certain we fully exploit the former. I’m not certain we ever banish the latter.
Yet I am convinced – for me – that naming my demons offers a better chance at reducing them to manageable size, at engaging them in necessary negotiation, at diminishing the power I allow them to wield, and then getting on with the business of what must be done – and what I want to become.
You May Also Enjoy
After this week you know I can. Great article. Love your writing and daily words of wisdom.
Thank you, Madge. Just thinking out loud… or rather, on the virtual page…
I am in the midst of listening to an interview about something similar. It is kind of like naming fears – but it is also about finding the core rules or stories that we might have and how they play a role in our lives. They aren’t always healthy. The man talks about believing, at a young age, that people did’t like him so he carried that with hi for years until he recognized it and set forth to find out if it was true – and it wasn’t. A man I know believes that “men don’t leave their wives.” which is based on his experience with his dad planning to leave his mom once the kids were out of the house. This man will stay in a toxic relationship and do whatever it takes to live by a rule that he created before he had ever entered a relationship. My guess is that these rules are based in fear or insecurity of some sort? So if we name the rule; we name the fear; and then we can figure out what action is required.
Love this, TE – the relationship between so-called “rules” (truths?) we make for ourselves, and what we do to then allow them to rule us.
Very interesting of Exception, that having rigid rules is indicative of fears. This “promising to love” is an obvious example and, as readers may recall, I refused to promise to love my wife because you cannot honestly promise the heart. I do love her (speaking in present tense). But you either do or you don’t, you don’t promise it. Maybe I’m too loosey goosey, but that’s what we have hearts and brains for. NO PROMISES. Military, of course, makes you swear fidelity and loyalty and then may set you up in a position to do some bad things, but then your “honor” becomes at stake. Do the right thing, forget the other stuff. People have fears about honor and reputation – forget it and live your life as you believe best.
And what’s this “suffer from fear of success.” Never could understand that one, except that I do believe (no promises) that power tends to corrupt. Could that be it, or what is this one about?
p.s. When I’m in a courtroom, I decline to place my hand upon a bible or “swear/promise” to tell the truth. I simple “affirm.” It may seem old-fashioned, but it gives the message that your word is as good as your word is.
So if we name the rule; we name the fear; and then we can figure out what action is required. This is an interesting statement. I’m not sure I agree across the board, but can see where some *rules* may be in place to protect our psyche from…ourselves. It’s also interesting because there are those in our family right now that are clinging to self-imposed *rules* to the point where it’s hurting others.
I prefer to yell at my demons. It gets their attention so I can then hit them with a holy two-by-four.
The other day, Bruce (Privilege of Parenting) quoted a Rilke poem in his comment. It seems germane to a number of your posts lately, BLW. Here is the whole piece (translation by R. Bly):
The Man Watching
I can tell by the way the trees beat, after
so many dull days, on my worried windowpanes
that a storm is coming,
and I hear the far-off fields say things
I can’t bear without a friend,
I can’t love without a sister
The storm, the shifter of shapes, drives on
across the woods and across time,
and the world looks as if it had no age:
the landscape like a line in the psalm book,
is seriousness and weight and eternity.
What we choose to fight is so tiny!
What fights us is so great!
If only we would let ourselves be dominated
as things do by some immense storm,
we would become strong too, and not need names.
When we win it’s with small things,
and the triumph itself makes us small.
What is extraordinary and eternal
does not want to be bent by us.
I mean the Angel who appeared
to the wrestlers of the Old Testament:
when the wrestler’s sinews
grew long like metal strings,
he felt them under his fingers
like chords of deep music.
Whoever was beaten by this Angel
(who often simply declined the fight)
went away proud and strengthened
and great from that harsh hand,
that kneaded him as if to change his shape.
Winning does not tempt that man.
This is how he grows: by being defeated, decisively,
by constantly greater beings.
Gorgeous, Wolf. Thank you for plucking this one up from Bruce.
Der Schauende
……
Wen dieser Engel überwand,
welcher so oft auf Kampf verzichtet,
der geht gerecht und aufgerichtet
und groß aus jener harten Hand,
die sich, wie formend, an ihn schmiegte.
Die Siege laden ihn nicht ein.
Sein Wachstum ist: der Tiefbesiegte
von immer Größerem zu sein.
Great poem. And now your blog is not only for those speaking French.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w3OmpDtSOjg
Incidentally, I found a contest for a new translation of this poem in addition to the oft-quoted Bly version. He translates title as The Watcher, but elsewhere I see The Watcher of the Storm. The words “watcher” and “horrible storm” are almost identical in German, and (although lacking in German myself), I suspect he intended the title to imply both ideas.
Great post as was Bruce’s. I think awareness is key. Right now, I am trying to make friends with my demons, because they aren’t demons entirely. At one time or another, those demons saved my life. They’re cranky because I am not listening to them. Hmm, kind of the same way my son acts when I don’t listen to him.
Naming them takes away the uncertainty. It helps you (me) know what you’re (I’m) up against and gives you the ability to fight back. And for me, now, it forces me to think about what would happen if the monsters won.
I am good at naming my fears and anxiety, but am not always good at tackling them. It helps me know that they exist and this awareness I believe forces me to make decisions to keep them at bay.