Assumptions versus Communication

Many too good to be true sales pitches rely on assumptive logic. The nitty gritty details would get in the way, so only the ones that serve as bait get dangled. You know you should be wary, should ask more questions but you don't.
How often do you count your change when it's handed to you? How often have you been surprised to find out an assumption was wrong? Drive time doubled because of traffic, relationship stressed due to varying assumtions in both parties, faced frustration of trying to undo damage?
When we meet people we make assumptions. We observe and decide how we are going to interact based on appearance and behavior, communication sitting on the sidelines saying "why won't you let me start Coach- seriously?"
In a world as diverse as ours, this can lead to friction and misunderstandings rather than respect and understanding.
What can we learn or grow with if we communicate. Open minded.
Stress drops away. Trust can have a place. Relief and appreciation are revitalize you.
You can't get anywhere in relationships with others if the relationship is based on assumptions. You can start over. You can create a real, healthy relationship if you are willing to participate and heal.

Changing the Colors in Your World

I remember my childhood. Bright red tulips, a black well cap in the back lawn I sat on and cried. I remember being spanked because I picked that tulip one day. I carried it to the neighbor and tried to sell it to buy my mother a gift to make her happy. Red tulips became a symbol for anger. How dare I pick that precious flower! Accusations of doing it to destroy her pretty flower. I was too young to know irony when it fell around me in tears.

Desolation deeper and darker than the well. My mother screaming at no one in the house while I held my only friend, a small struggling confused barn cat seeking solace and love from that little fluffy kitten who really wanted to run off and practice hunting mice. Shuffling between three of my great grandmothers, who did their utmost to buffer me from life at home.
I remember fear. I never knew what would set my mother off. I remember trying so hard to be worth loving. I remember my great grandmother Alice telling me that she loved me and that what was happening at home wasn't my fault.
For many years I struggled with emotional wounds and scars. Sometimes hurting others to try to get approval or out of frustration as I watched my mother lavish love I could not earn on my brother. I remember the one time she was loving and gentle. I had been playing at a neighbor's house. I was about four years old. I made a slide out of a large cardboard box my neighbor and I wrestled onto a chair. I fell off and got hurt. I was bleeding profusely. The neighbor almost took me to the hospital. My mother took me home instead fearing that it would trigger a neglect or abuse investigation, because that's the priority. She held me, rocking me in a chair until the bleeding stopped. I remember the two times my Father held me I was three and then six. Both times were to remove stitches from my face, cheaper than going back to the hospital. Priorities.
My best friends in childhood were books and barn cats. I spent most of my time alone in my head wandering the brighter worlds created by authors, wishing the characters were real. Wishing for friends as my intelligence and slight autistic characteristics isolated me from cruel teasing classmates.
I started working the summer before seventh grade. I worked at a kennel and babysat. I spent hours working a hose to spray dog turds off the outdoor runs, grooming poodles and teaching them to walk on leads. I earned the money to pay for what I wanted rather than get hassled over wanting clothes that weren't always hand me downs or ugly clearance rack leftovers, books, toys, candy.
As I got older I grew into treating others the way I wished I had been treated. A neighbor girl and I were playing. She accidentally dropped and broke a toy I loved. She cried. She tightened up waiting for the storm and fury. I closed my eyes and thought of Alice. Alice with her soft hands, sweet heart and garden full of flowers you could tend and pick and share with smiles. I looked at the younger girl and took her hand. "It was an accident. It isn't worth as much as your friendship is to me." We both cried. It was how I realized she also came from a world with dark places in it. We picked up the pieces and as we did, we colored each other's worlds brighter.
In college, my friend Nathan was always there. Listening. Caring. Fearing he could end up breaking down with schizophrenia like his mother. He could only be a friend in my heart because I was afraid my dark places could hurt him. My past comes out in bursts like little rainstorms. Gentler as years pass, body trembling from emotions I can't always express. Nathan, Francine, and Mary brought their bright hearts full of colors. Their humor, their resiliency, their humanity were the paintbrushes they used on my heart. We did silly things. We walked St. Bonaventure every friday night around midnight as I worked on climbing every tree I could on campus. They and others joined me on this eccentric quest. They begged me not to prank campus security by swinging in the trees by the roads toward the vehicles going by so I did it more. Thankfully, none of the guards had heart attacks when they saw someone apparently flying out of a tree toward their vans only to vanish as I swung back out of the roads and dropped into the woods to melt away into the night. I was a ghost story.
Each year my life expands. The connections with other people grow. The stark colors get tempered with shades and blending. I communicate more, letting others help me see and let go of dangerous fragments still stuck in places my scarred heart cannot always see. I think of Nathan finding me sitting catatonic outside the Science building after my first real love after several intense secret dates told me he could never love me because I was an Atheist. I don't remember walking to my room. Nathan quietly looked out for me, always on alert and always there when the darkness rose. He would just sit with me. The lone soldier without a gun, manning the wall alone. Eventually my words would come back. He would reassure me that everyone wrestles with something. He would nudge my humor until it rose up and became the tool we both used to fight the darkness.
He taught me that I had strength, that the years of fighting myself alone had given me tremendous power. I realized I could use it to help him, and my other friends. My inner demons were relentless and harsh; I could step into other people's hearts and face theirs without breaking a sweat or shedding a tear. I could step between the boogeymen and the people who were teaching me what healthy was. I could keep them safe at cost.
It cost because it pressed on wounds, emotions flowing without healing.
It took years to learn to let go of the armor. To let go of the weapons. To be the gardener nurturing my heart and the hearts around me, discarding dangerous creatures lurking in the garden rather than wrestling with them or trying to bring out the best in them. Put a bow on a copperhead and you still have a dangerous snake.
Regardless of how much you love, you cannot heal everyone. Each of us has choices. We decide what is or isn't in your world. We color them with perspective and emotion. We determine our focus and attitude. Reaching out to healthy friends for perspective is the first step. As the holiday approaches, on the darkest day of the year, my thoughts are of you. I appreciate each of you and how you change the colors in my world bringing vibrance and light with your presence.

Wherever you are today in your world, I offer you my paintbrush. It's a little tattered and beat up. It has been used as a sword more than once. The colors on it are bright. Your world should be full of laughter, appreciation and beauty. So, let's get painting!

The Always Never Trap

Stress can be good or bad. Eustress is the fancy dress up name for positive stress. Getting a promotion, planning a vacation, versus negative stress which we all know about and occasionally shake our fists and frown at.
Stress adds up. Emotional stress is subtle. It can be corrosive. You are juggling a million things and then someone says something or does something that hits you wrong. You have a day or week where things seem to slip rather than fit.
You find yourself in the all or nothing trap unaware that you've hit the spiky bottom.
Hurting yourself through internal overly critical black and white assessments that inaccurately represent you or how those around you perceive you.
Emotions in the way of neutral accurate perception. Everything is wonderful becomes everything is terrible and why am I alive? I can do anything becomes I am a total failure. Stop. Stop right there.
You are wrong about something. You are not a total failure. You can choose to step back, let go of the pain and self defeating internal dialogue. Reach out and communicate. Get reality checks from healthy supports. Take a walk. Work on a pet project. Do something for someone else. I think of the over 60p.people who participated in the 5K Zombie Run for a local children's charity in Muskogee. Laughing, dressing up as zombies and in fun rainbow ridiculous running tutus and seizing life as they dodged the zombies and helped a charity. Nobody there was always or never, all or nothing. I listened to runners cheer each other on, watched groups encourage and support each other as they aimed to try to 'survive to the finish line.'

Find something that gets you laughing and takes you out of your internal self trap. Put things back in perspective.
Remember your accomplishments, the goals you are working on and what you are working toward. Give yourself a break.
Be aware of your language internal and external. Absolutes are absolutely the last thing that belong in healthy self talk.
Start watching for signs of the sneaky trap. What triggers do you have that set it up? Lack of sleep, anxiety, vitamin or mineral deficiency, social isolation, finances, communication issues, emotional scars that flare up?
When you catch yourself slipping, how can you change how you say? Take ownership and problem solve. When this happens I feel like ---. Communicate with those around you "I am feeling rough today, and ask for help."
Do not assume no one has time for you. Do not assume no one cares. Do not assume you are worthless or a failure. Do not assume!!!
If you aren't communicating clearly- even if all you can manage is to say "I am in a bad head space" or "I am not communicating well" people are wrapped up in their own life juggling and may not catch the silent signs to reach out to you. Whatever has hit the all or nothing switch- although it feels insurmountable, it will pass and eventually it will be small and ridiculous in the rearview mirror of your life.

For today, take care of you. Attend to how you talk to yourself and what words you use in dialogue with yourself and those you love.
Quit beating yourself up over life lessons and focus on the reasons you can choose to smile and grow. 

How important are the little things?

Years ago I did as society hinted I should. I married right after college. I did my own divorce shortly after that. The details were all wrong. He did not know my favorite color, my favorite movies, music, or even my goals and dreams. Details. After I left a detail stood out.

For half a year the only change in the shampoo and soap came when I showered. I wondered at how they never changed yet he didn't reek like someone who has skipped using soap would. My brother told me the night I left, he already had a replacement woman over for the night. I was relieved. Perhaps he'd take the time to learn her details. I knew his. They didn't match mine.

Details like body language and general appearance come together to shape how others perceive us.

Have you ever wondered why others treat you in certain ways?

Change your expression. Change your posture. Change your clothes. Change your jewelry. Change shoes. What doesn't change? How mindful are you of you?
Have you tried shifting one habit, one telling detail?

One little change can be the difference between fear or excitement of facing a new challenge.

Our beliefs and assumptions are invisible constructs within us, beautiful and sometimes terrible. Do you know what unspoken rules you've shaped yourself with? They stretch and bend across the page unrecognized in your handwriting, body language and in the words you use. My lessons on handwriting analysis with Ruth Ballard's incredible knowledge and experience has opened new realms of awareness. Analyzing, analyzing and delving into new levels of scientific comprehension of humanity! Humbling, reality shifting, empowering details finally communicate across the barrier of consciousness.

Little things are the difference between appearing inept or masterful; appearing flustered or calm, and they often determine how others respond to us.

What do the little things say about you?

A Little Help Can Change The Road You Are On.

Our past can be a road map for our future. We tend to pick roads that look similar to the ones we've been on. Partly out of habit, partly because we are comfortable dealing with what we've already faced. Potholes, washboarding, lack of signage. We wonder after a while why or how we got on the same road we thought we put behind us. We clutch that map. We keep using it.

When we are really ready to change we look at that map. We take note of the landmarks. We turn to our friends and say "Hey, if I keep on this road- could you call me on it? Could you give me a carrot to chase or nudge me toward other roads which might be entirely unfamiliar but past due for me to find?  I'll do the same for you!"

We get caught on roads with deep nasty ruts. Revving and revving and wearing ourselves down. Habits die hard. Friends want to help but social etiquette goes around the needed constructive communication and just plays the "Yes man Enabler Song" on repeat.

I'm not your Yes man. I maybe be your friend, ally, student, teacher, healer, fool but I won't be your Enabler. I'm not going to talk you into another donut, twenty shots at the bar, or condone jackassery.

There's enough real shit in this world that needs addressing. Communicating honestly, brainstorming, we can be the mirror for our friends and our communities. Together we grow, heal, and have a remarkable impact. Alone we could be exhausting ourselves with good intentions but not enough amplification for even those who love us to hear.

In Africa there is a saying "It takes a village to raise a child."

The truth is, we all need support. The support of your village, your people is healing. Your mind shifts and your roads shift with reaching out and being reached. Healing goes both ways. We never stop needing our village, it needs each of us to be healthy as well. Mental health is hard to maintain in isolation, people need people.

What is your map like? How many times have you driven the same road? What keeps you there? If you broke a pattern, how?

Who is part of your village? How do you treat each other?

If you find yourself in a nonsymbiotic position, what can you do to change the road you are on?

Important questions for a healthy tomorrow.