You’ve probably heard the expression, “Get over yourself.” It’s a fairly harsh judgment of the way someone is acting. The first time it was said to me, I gasped at the shock of it. What could it mean?
As we mature, the rules of childhood morph to become appropriate for adults, but they’re still the same rules. We learn as kids not to be selfish, to share with others and not hog things for ourselves. In adulthood, being selfish may take many forms. We’ve learned to share and to appear generous, but find ourselves hoarding other things, like our pride or power or money. We perpetuate defenses in the form of habits and perceived limitations, holding a grudge against the world for our sadness and failures. We plaintively cry, Why me?
So, as grown-ups, we have to learn new ways of being unselfish.
Sure is hard, though. There are plenty of reasons why we might feel victimized by others or by the situation. Other people can be creeps; circumstances can conspire to make things difficult; events may occur that change everything. Shit happens, for sure.
However, if we look carefully, we’ll find the selfish aspect to our suffering, the place where we withhold because of our fears. The most amazing part of this is the fact that when you break through that selfishness, you find immense peace and you are even likely to leave the original problem behind you.
Example:
It’s Wednesday, the nadir of the week, and I’m trying to make myself face another day of job hunting. It’s been a long time, and I’m depressed about it. Hello out there? Is anybody listening? I need a job please!
Nothing but crickets.
So I pull up a journal and write. I let it all out, what I’m thinking, how I’m feeling; and then I start writing about how I would like to be feeling. Somewhere in there, between clearing out thoughts and using my thoughts imaginatively, I realize that I’ve been hoarding things. I’ve been protecting my outrage and hurt instead of using my experience as an opportunity for growth.
Another example:
My teenage son has turned into a stranger. He’s surly, dresses like a bum, and his grades are slipping. I try to talk to him but it does no good. Why is he so ungrateful?
And now he’s gone and gotten himself arrested for shoplifting. What am I supposed to do?
After bailing out my son, I sit with my journal, pouring out my frustration. Then I start writing about my own youth. Still later, I write a letter to my son about my love for him. Somewhere between venting and expressing the greatest love, I realize that self-interest propels many of my arguments with my son. Yet the love between us is absolutely all that matters.
Let’s do one more:
I’m so stressed out at work. It’s mid-week and I have a bunch of projects due, the vendors are not cooperating, my boss is mad at me, and my assistant is home sick. This is not new; it’s business as usual ever since they laid off all those people and the few that are left must pick up the slack.
It’s starting to freak me out, so at lunch I sneak off with my journal. I just write fragments and single words, exclamations, fast notes, and curses, letting it all come out. Then I write a few sentences about why I am working at this job. I skip the preliminaries (like “money”) and go straight to the personal stuff: “family support,” “pride in accomplishment,” “creative curiosity.” Somewhere between the cursing and the creativity, it becomes clear that freaking out merely enhances the chaos. Much better to drop all defensiveness and just proceed one step at a time.
How have you used your journal to get over yourself? Your response in the comments may be a gigantic help to another reader. Please be generous.
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Get help transitioning from fearful to creative. CreateWriteNow presents the Do What You Love! 7 Days Career Journaling Challenge, August 20-26. Sign up now!
Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/valentinap/1429994191/
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