You Don’t Owe Yourself An Apology For Being You

Sometimes he shows up unexpectedly. Usually in the form of an unwelcome reference in an unwelcome conversation.

I had to live with him for years. He clung to me always, virtually inseparable. It wasn’t a particularly good relationship, either. Contentious, at times even emotionally abusive. I often didn’t live up to his expectations and I’d be relentlessly reminded each time I failed to do so.

But now he’s dead.

And I don’t miss him.

They never published an obituary in the newspaper for the person I used to be. The tormentor, the self-abuser, the one who did all he could to keep me exactly where I didn’t want to be.

It was a long, often painful passing, a slow transition from one life of familiar limitation and lack Continue reading “You Don’t Owe Yourself An Apology For Being You” →

The Desirable Discomfort

“Sometimes the only way out is through.”

Recently I reconnected with an old friend. My trail bike. I’d often glance at it hanging on a hook from a rafter in my shed, promising myself that one of these days I’m going to take it out for a ride.

Today was the day.

Not too far from home is a large state forest with miles of trails and unpaved fire access roads, a natural habitat for trail bikes to explore and wander. It had been years since my last ride here but it felt like I hadn’t missed a beat as I headed off on my adventure.

Heavy rains over the past few days made the dirt roads a bit muddy in places, but mud always makes trail bike riding more exciting, more primal. Getting filthy is part of the process and before too long mud was pretty much everywhere. I guess the kid in me has never outgrown his fascination with mud.

As I got deeper into the woods the uneven nature of the roads were partially flooded from the rains. As much as I enjoy mud, I would navigate my bike around the edges of these deep puddles adding a bit more intensity to the ride. But at one point, the road was completely flooded from side to side. Impassable.

Unless I wanted to get very wet.

With trees bordering both sides of the flooded road, I stopped and assessed my options. The “puddle” was a good 30 feet long, I had no idea how deep it was, and there was no dry alternative to get around what was in front of me.

“Sometimes the only way out is through.”

Sitting on my bike contemplating the words of Robert Frost, I knew that to get beyond what was in front of me I would need to go through what was in front of me. There really wasn’t any other Continue reading “The Desirable Discomfort” →

Giving Birth To Yourself

Mom did the hard part, bringing me into this world. The love, the nurturing, the support and encouragement. I don’t know if she was the best mother ever, but to me she undoubtably was.

Mom would often tell me that the job of a mother is to give her child both roots and wings. To give them a foundational sense of who they are and to get them ready to fly and become what their hearts have told them to become. To build them up and to let them go.

On a late December solo hike a few months after her passing I found myself reflecting upon those wings she worked tirelessly to give me. More specifically, what have I done with them in the decades since leaving the nest she so lovingly built for me. Did I ever soar to the heights I was capable of reaching? Did she ever see the very best version of the son she gave birth to?

Those wings of mine were often weighed down by the heaviness of self-doubt and uncertainty Continue reading “Giving Birth To Yourself” →

Maybe The Broken Aren’t Actually Broken?

Sometimes the heaviest things we carry are the judgments we make about ourselves. The belief system about who we tell ourselves we really are. The belief system which influences our expectations and shape our experiences, reinforcing the belief system as a result.

If you take notice, life has proven to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. We do tend to experience what we expect to experience, even if at times we don’t really want to experience it. If paradise was within our reach, our arms would never be fully extended to reach for it if on some level we don’t believe we are supposed to experience it. The weight of our self-judgment will keep us where we’ve convinced ourselves we’re supposed to be. Wanting. Wishing. But never moving beyond where we’ve accepted we are supposed to be.

Life at times can certainly leave us to believe we are broken. Flawed. Defective. Not worthy. Too Continue reading “Maybe The Broken Aren’t Actually Broken?” →

When The Truth Won’t Leave You Alone

Sometimes I’m reminded that I shouldn’t quit my day job.

The ceiling looked great. It hadn’t been painted in many years and until I rolled on the fresh coat of paint I didn’t realize how dingy and dull the ceiling had become. Painting the ceiling was the final step of a weekend project which took far more weekends to complete than I expected. But it was done.

Until it wasn’t.

A previous “weekend project” involved replacing some of the rotting trim boards that were original to the house. Apparently while fixing the trim boards I had unknowingly dislodged a few shingles in the process. A brief but intense wind-driven rain passed through our area and, like water always does, the water found its way through those dislodged shingles and into the house staining my freshly painted living room ceiling.

As a handyman homeowner I’ve come to appreciated the persistent nature of water. If there is a way for water to get into a space it always seems to find a way to do so. Water is quite good at getting my attention.

And so is the Truth.

The Truth, as in the acceptance of the reality of certain situations I’ve gotten quite good at repressing.

Like water, the Truth is very persistent. Like water, it’s also quite good at getting my attention, often showing up in the forms of frustration and disappointment, of unwanted outcomes and unmet expectations, often prompting me to confront those repressed realities no matter how Continue reading “When The Truth Won’t Leave You Alone” →

When You Run Your Own Race The Trophy Is Your Life

Seeing that number brought back the pain of that day.

I had three hours to finish and I wasn’t quite sure if I would. I came out of the final turn of my first half marathon and with one eye on the finish line and the other on the clock I knew it was going to be close.

It was.

I made it.

And it hurt.

Going through a box of papers this week I found the race bib I had worn on that day. Number 156. It was a race I wish I had trained a bit differently for, but at age 59 I had officially completed the 13.1 mile distance the half marathon demanded of me. Dehydrated, sore, and legs like Jell-O, crossing that finish line was a joyful kind of pain I proudly earned every ounce of.

Coming in almost dead last in a field of 1,500 runners doesn’t sound very glorious but it was one of the greatest moments of my life. By the time I got to the finish line there were no balloons or Continue reading “When You Run Your Own Race The Trophy Is Your Life” →

Our Own Sacred Space To Unfold

Growth should come with a warning label. Not to dissuade anyone from starting, but just to let them know what lies ahead.

For some, growth is a luxury, a curiosity-based exploration into the further reaches of human potential. For others, growth is a necessity, driven by the consistent and crushing emotional weight of unresolved trauma and pain, to the point where a journey through the fire becomes the only viable option.

Mine was more of a necessity.

A commitment to growth signs you up for a process of learning and unlearning, of discovering and uncovering, of defining and re-defining, of anxiously diving into the deep end of your emotional pool while questioning your ability to swim.

And knowing nobody is coming to save you once you hit the water.

The journey through my own fires has been a challenging and meandering undertaking, at times Continue reading “Our Own Sacred Space To Unfold” →

When You Focus Upon The Light

The broken pots told the story of why the red leaves and dirt littered the floor in front of me. The local garden center had a large display of Christmas poinsettias and a couple of these vibrant plants apparently had fallen off the table, their plastic pots breaking open as they hit the concrete floor below.

Seeing the plants out of their pots showed a cross section their life story. The dirt, the roots, the stems, and the leaves. The leaves always get the glory, but it all started in the dirt.

Before a flower is celebrated for it’s beauty, the seed begins the journey buried in darkness, covered, watered, and left on its own to find its way instinctively upward and towards an unseen light. From a human perspective, such a journey would be daunting and quite traumatic. But to a flower, it’s simply the process of growing.

As humans, dirt is often a part of our growth process. Dirt, in the form of disappointments, pain, Continue reading “When You Focus Upon The Light” →

When Butterflies Are Afraid To Fly

Caterpillars don’t really have much of a choice, do they?

Whether they like it or not, becoming the butterfly they were created to become is inevitable. A chrysalis is in their future, and on the other side they will be reborn and begin their life anew.

Butterflies have long been used as a metaphor for transformation. Their metamorphosis is spectacular yet relatable. And for those on their own journey of growth and evolution, the presence of a fluttering butterfly can be seen as a spiritual symbol of divine guidance and encouragement.

Unlike caterpillars, we humans do have a choice as to what we will grow into. Or not. We get to decide if we will continue to crawl or learn to fly.

Learning to fly is a messy process. Most human metamorphosis is. Becoming something other than what you’ve always been is a daunting process of unaccepting what you’ve always accepted about yourself as being true, making room for a new empowering story to take its place.

One of the greatest inhibitors to our willingness to fly is who we choose to surround ourselves with. As human caterpillars we are often surrounded by other human caterpillars, those who’ve never grown wings of their own, those who tend to want to keep others wingless as well. Those who’ve never flown can feel threatened by those who decide to do so.

We can easily let the familiarity of what’s always been derail what could be for us, keep us crawling and flightless. After all, if crawling is all we’ve known we can chose to accept that’s all Continue reading “When Butterflies Are Afraid To Fly” →

8,600 Days Of Sobriety

It was like losing an old friend. Consistent. Reliable. Predictable. I recognized the arrangement had grown quite toxic, a toxicity I simply accepted as a fundamental cornerstone of the relationship for far longer than I should have.

Alcohol. A trusted companion which always took me exactly where I thought I wanted to go.

Until I no longer wanted to go there.

This week an important milestone snuck up on me. I had gone 8,600 days without alcohol. A month-long beer binge in December 2000 had pushed me to the point where I knew I needed to stop, at least temporarily. Honestly, the real challenge was seeing if I actually could. Now, over 23 years later, I guess I was able to definitively answer that question.

I never intended to quit drinking. I was simply taking a break, a longer break than usual. For several years prior I had given up beer for Lent, not for any religious purposes, but as a test to see if I could go 40 days without it. My abstinence would start earlier in 2001, six weeks ahead of Lent.

It wasn’t easy. Once my body recovered from what I had done to it in December, it was ready for more. And it wasn’t happy when I told it no. This temporary abstinence was a personal challenge and honestly I was deeply afraid I would fail. Established habits are powerful forces in life, even if those habits don’t serve you.

As I gained some traction with sobriety, I started to wonder how long I could actually keep it up. I’d always taken comfort in knowing Lent would end after 40 days and I’d then be free to go back to my usual intoxicated ways. After all, I never said I was quitting, right?

But this extended Lenten season would be different. The clarity of sobriety created a space of Continue reading “8,600 Days Of Sobriety” →

Peter Mis LivingHalfFull.com

Lessons From A Life Unfolding

Category: growth