Amidst the million or so pages of reading I have to do each week, I’m learning some amazing things. The one that I find myself returning to recently is the ability to listen to myself. Seems a silly skill to acquire, I mean, don’t we all listen to ourselves more than anyone else? But, this listening is a skill that requires the ability to connect with what I’m feeling in my gut and what I’m sensing in my mind. To divide the two and name what it is I feel. To listen to myself and speak what I feel.
My previous experiences with this have not always been good. I remember being told as a girl that my feelings were always too sensitive, that I carried my heart on my sleeve and was easily offended. I stopped listening to my heart or at least I choked it in many ways. My heart or my gut was where I felt my pain and I learned that I couldn’t trust my own instinct and needed others to tell me when something was painful or wrong. Cause if I allowed myself to listen to my own heart, I’d be hurt or offended 24/7. So, I figured my gauge was broken and I needed others to validate my thoughts and my feelings. I couldn’t trust them.
There was a boy I liked in 8th grade. He was the biggest crush of my life, my first love. His name was Mark. We attended a small, private, Christian school and so we knew each other pretty well. We were friends and yet I wanted something more. In time he figured out that I liked him and though he never discouraged my interest, he never expressed a similar interest. He did, however, tease me mercilessly about everything under the sun. It seemed to be his way of showing attention. Inevitably, I would get hurt. Or, the guys in his group that joined the “tease sharon” bandwagon would say something overly stupid and I would be offended. The answer was never “I’m sorry for being a rude jackass, please forgive me.” It was “oh Sharon, you’re too sensitive. We didn’t mean anything by it. Just let it go.” Again and again and again. And because I wanted Mark to like me and think I was cool, I tried to let it go. I tried telling myself that there was something wrong with my ability to know what was good and what was harmful. I stopped listening to my gut or at least challenged my mind to rationalize and minimalize the pain.
That was 20 years ago. What’s the point in bringing that up now? Remember me telling you about those stories that Dan asks us to invite to the surface? This is an example. This story, welcomed to the surface from the deep recesses of my mind, brings with it pieces of me. Pieces of my story that show “death.” But, also, helps me to understand why it is tough for me today to name what I feel. Despite my struggle to shut out my feelings, the need for me to feel has always won and often not in a pretty way. I’ve never really given myself permission to feel, without excuse or justification, and then to name what it is that I feel.
That’s what I’m learning. Learning to listen to a voice I’ve choked back and hated at times. The voice I’ve considered to be my weakness, my achilles heel, my down fall. It is being given an opportunity to be heard. I’m interested to hear what it has to say.
