Moving Past The Old Familiar Sting

On the sidewalk of a small strip mall I noticed a sandwich board sign in front of a liquor store. “Beer doesn’t ask silly questions. Beer understands”. Google “words of wisdom” and it’s highly unlikely that those words printed on that sign would ever come back in the search results.

Perhaps they should.

As someone who endured a rather intense 18 year “relationship” with beer, those words on the sign struck me deeper than I expected them to. Because I know them to be true. Beer was a loyal friend, very predictable, and always took me where I needed to go, unconditionally. Even if where I was going was detrimental to myself. It didn’t question or evaluate what I needed from the relationship. It had a purpose to serve and that’s exactly what it did.

There is something powerfully reaffirming when you feel understood. When you have nothing to justify nor defend. When you’re simply accepted as is. Familiarity provides an intoxicating comfort, even if what’s familiar is undermining your own emotional well being.

Growing beyond the familiar is quite uncomfortable. Alcohol made it easy for me to not have to deal with my own deeper issues, the things on some level I knew I needed to work through but I never had the courage or willingness to do. I decided to stay stuck in the familiar instead of embracing the uncertainty of growth.

Growth asks way too many questions.

In the hauntingly beautiful song “Hurt”, Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails speaks of “the old familiar sting”, widely accepted as a reference to substance abuse, though others have interpreted this line Continue reading “Moving Past The Old Familiar Sting” →

Urgency, Clarity, Intention, & Purpose

Her text brought an unexpected smile to my face.

It’s July 4th and my younger sister reached out with a memory of the day we celebrated America’s bicentennial. Our ever-crafty Mom baked a couple dozen cupcakes and us neighborhood kids got to decorate them with the red, white, and blue frosting she made. We all got together by the old fence separating our yard from Dave Wooler’s yard and expressed our patriotic spirit in a very sweet way.

I had forgotten all about that day but her text brought me right back into that moment. The faces, the voices…hard to believe it was 50 years ago.

Revisiting memories is often a double-edged emotional sword for me. Inevitably I will move past the memory itself and find myself fixated on the time separating the memory and the now. As in what have I done with my life in those years in between. As much as I’ve come to accept the path my life has taken, that nagging and quite persistent inquisitive voice within has the tendency to prompt me to revisit my path. The choices I made. The choices I didn’t make. The choices I never allowed myself to make.

Quite often this line of questioning was met with a tenacious hostile reaction from within, sort of the same reaction I experienced when I felt short of the paternal expectations I wasn’t living up to. I should have done better, and not knowing what better actually was didn’t let me off the hook for not doing Continue reading “Urgency, Clarity, Intention, & Purpose” →

Maybe I Am The Problem

I wasn’t aware of the Soup Rule.

Standing in line at Panera and the person in front of me was tormented with indecision trying to decide what to order for lunch. Her painful deadlock was eventually resolved when she determined that it was too hot for soup and ordered the sandwich instead.

Yes, it certainly was hot that day, and apparently the high heat disqualified soup from lunch contention.

I like soup. I just never knew there were parameters limiting its availability for consumption.

I’m not sure how rules like this get started, but at some point she accepted the elevated reading on the outdoor thermometer as a valid reason to limit her dining options. For me, if I want soup I’ll have soup regardless of the weather conditions. But the more I thought about this, I realized for me this was no longer about the soup. This morphed into me starting to examine the limiting parameters I may have placed upon myself.

As I ate my lunch, I thought about my own rules, the guiding parameters and nuances I’ve willingly accepted in my life. The beliefs and ideals that influence the habits and actions which shape my life. Some were my cultural and tribal inheritance, others I created for myself. Taking inventory of your own beliefs and ideals provides you with the opportunity to evaluate them. Which ones serve you? Which ones no longer do? Which ones never did? Which ones are you willing to let go of?

My beliefs and ideals have given me the life I have, a life I am infinitely grateful to have. Life, though, is a never ending work in progress, ever evolving in front of us. As I continue to grow and evolve, am I allowing my beliefs and ideals to grow and evolve with me?

Or is what I accept that I am holding me back from becoming who I was created to be?

Photo by Juan Miranda Ferris on Unsplash

Every Day Is Graduation Day

One by one, alphabetically aligned, they crossed the stage as their names were read aloud much to the enthusiastic delight of proud families gathered to witness one of life’s important milestones.

To say it’s been a while since my own high school graduation would be an understatement. Many decades have passed since the seventeen year old version of me with long hair and no clearly defined path forward crossed the stage and left with a diploma of my own.

I’m still looking for that clearly defined path forward.

Graduation ceremonies celebrate both the effort it took to get this far as well as infinite possibilities ahead for those who wish to seize them. On this day an introspective and reflective significantly older version of me is asking what I did with all those infinite possibilities that had my name on them. What did I do with the time I’d been given? What have I done? More importantly and often painfully, what haven’t I done?

There are two things in life I will never get back. My shoulder-length hair and time. Of the two, time both scares me and motivates me. Life’s infinite possibilities are maniacally juxtaposed with a life that is itself finite. It’s all possible until it isn’t.

I’ve come to understand that many of my infinite possibilities were never seized because I never allowed myself to seize them. Who I told myself I was often conflicted with who it was I was created to be. In that confliction I remained stagnant, fully aware of what was possible yet not willing to believe I was worthy of their attainment.

Perhaps there was some clearly defined path forward and I convinced myself not to take it.

Graduations need not be a formal ceremony clad in caps and gowns and pomp and circumstance. Graduation can be a decision made on any day you choose in the presence of only yourself, when you acknowledge how far you’ve come in your life and decide to embrace your own infinite possibilities. To break free of the self-imposed limitations long accepted as true and graduate to your own next level.

You are your own clearly defined path forward if you choose to decide to move yourself forward.

Decisions have the power to keep us stuck or to set us free.

Every day is graduation day.

Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash

The Power Of Showing Up For Yourself

He’d be the first one to tell you it wasn’t his best effort.

But he showed up. Like he always shows up. Giving the best he could give at that moment on that day.

Often our inner demands and expectations of perfection cause us not to show up. If we can’t give our best, we rationalize, perhaps we should wait until we can. Being willing to show up when you really don’t want to overrides the pride and ego and creates a very sacred space.

A space where you honor the commitments you’ve made to yourself.

Momentum is an ever-present force in life. Fueled by consistency, it is either working for you or against you.

Consistently showing up for yourself is one way to make sure it’s working in your favor.

Photo by Teemu Laukkarinen on Unsplash

Compliance Is Vastly Overrated

I had no intention of complying with the request I knew she was about to make.

Sitting in a large auditorium and it is Awards Night. Many area schools have gathered together to celebrate both individual and ensemble outstanding music theatre performances from this year’s season. As the host began to announce the award recipients she did ask the audience to please old all applause until after all the names have been called.

I’m sorry, but when they call your kids name there is no way I’m gonna keep my mouth shut.

And I didn’t.

I wasn’t being defiant. I was allowing myself to celebrate a moment, a special moment, giving myself the space to instinctively express the joy such a special moment had brought me. Fully present, fully human, raw, authentic, and unfiltered.

I’ve held my applause for most of my life. The special moments weren’t special enough, I guess. Or maybe I didn’t allow myself to be present long enough to notice. My always searching for something else made what was special somehow unexcitedly ordinary, not worthy of celebration. I told myself I’d celebrate when I finally got to wherever it was I felt I needed to go. I never got there because that space never actually existed outside of me.

When I allow myself to be present and simply notice the world around me, I see life is actually full of special moments worthy to be applauded. Some spectacular, some mundane. All for me to define if I chose to. All for me to experience if I allow myself the presence required to do so.

Fully present, fully human, raw, authentic, and unfiltered.

Kinda feels a bit defiant, doesn’t it?

Compliance is vastly overrated.

The Emotional Freedom Of Letting Go

The instructions make it look fairly simple.

Doing so is anything but.

If life is a book full of lessons I need to learn, I’ve reached the chapter called Detachment. Detachment, as in releasing outcomes and expectations.

How hard could that be, right?

For most of my journey, desired future outcomes served as an aspirational distraction from me being where I told myself I didn’t want to be. The future destination gave me something to look forward to, gave me something to work towards. The journey was always rife with impatience, Continue reading “The Emotional Freedom Of Letting Go” →

Embracing The Intentionality Of Nature

The signs are everywhere. The green buds on the barren branches. The yellow daffodils starting their annual bloom. The chirping of the birds greeting the sunrise.

Spring has sprung, leaving the cold and colorless winter behind.

Nature is a wise teacher, and Spring is one of its favorite lessons. Renewal and rebirth. My favorite lesson, though, is one often overlooked and rarely considered.

Intention.

Nature isn’t random. It doesn’t dabble. It creates with intention. Everything is uniquely purposeful, everything created to express itself fully. Every bud, every bug, every blade of grass fulfilling the intentional promise of its creation, significant and purposeful in their own unique way.

Nature reminds me that I am not random. I, too, was created with intention, with a unique purpose only I can express, a purpose intended to be fully expressed. Within us is the opportunity Continue reading “Embracing The Intentionality Of Nature” →

The Wind Beneath Your Own Wings

Who knew it was a butterfly moment.

An elementary school teacher friend of mine recently sent me a screen shot of a nine year old Facebook post. The unnamed subject in the post was one of my kids involved in some humorous banter about the naming of some beetles in a classroom project. A conversation unexpected from a kid of that age, but a conversation I was happy the kid felt comfortable to be a part of.

Teachers have a way of creating safe spaces for kids to participate, to feel seen, valued, and accepted. In that safe space, a child is free to shine a light only they can shine. And when they start to shine, they’re empowered to shine even brighter, fueled by the momentum of an ever-growing level of confidence.

The Butterfly Effect on full display.

As adults, finding our own safe spaces to shine becomes a bit of a challenge. Many family and organizational structures usually don’t make room for such spaces. Because, hey, we’re adults which implies there’s simply no need for the safe spaces we needed as children.

We never outgrow a need for a safe space to shine.

The outside world is usually too busy to even notice us, let alone create a space where our most authentic self feels free to shine. Short of going back to third grade, the most reliable safe space is the one we create for ourselves.

It can feel quite daunting when you need to be the wind beneath your own wings, to create a safe space for you to shine when you’ve been conditioned to believe you’re the only reason why you’ve yet to fully do so.

The butterfly imprisoned by the the weight of its own wings.

But those are the only wings that will set you free.

We need not wait for others to create a safe space for us to shine. We don’t need their permission to express our authentic energy and light. We need our own permission to do so. To start, to flutter, to allow ourselves to move forward at our own pace and shine in the way only we can shine. The more we are willing to move the more confident we will become in our movement.

The more wind beneath our wings.

It took me the better part of a lifetime to allow myself to become a safe space for me to unfold more fully into me. To allow myself to trust me with me. To allow myself to be me, embraced with patience, kindness, and unconditional love.

Some lessons certainly take their time being learned.

Your safe space to shine is yours if you want it.

You just need to be willing to start.

The Homes I Can Never Go Home To Again

Ruben’s Atomic Chicken Fingers!

I unexpectedly found myself back in an area I briefly lived in about 30 years ago. A break in the meeting schedule and I was free to roam around for a few hours and I spontaneously decided to retrace some footsteps I had left three decades earlier.

Driving around brought me back mentally and emotionally. I even found a Spotify playlist of 1990’s alt-rock and grunge to bring me back even further. Salem to Nashua via Rte 111. Much was the same. Much was different. I knew I was different, much different than who I was back when I first traveled these roads those many years ago.

And then I remembered Ruben’s Atomic Chicken Fingers.

The more youthful me would find himself many a night belly to the bar at Shorty’s Mexican Roadhouse, never a need to review their rather extensive menu. I knew what I was there for, and the only question was for how many.

Lightly breaded, deep fried chicken fingers served with a sweet-yet-hot thick and sticky dipping sauce, the sweetness lowering your guard making it easy for the heat to find its way down the back of your throat. A cold beer at the ready and at that moment everything was perfect with the world.

I found my way into Shorty’s once again and at the same bar I excitedly ordered the same Atomic Chicken Fingers and I was ready to pick up where I had left off. But one bite in and I realized something had changed.

And it wasn’t the chicken fingers.

I’d always heard you can’t go home again. I understood that to mean time inevitably changes what home had always been. What was simply no longer existed as it was. But at the bar, I realized the only thing that had changed was me. I couldn’t go back to what was because I was no longer who I was. It wasn’t the food. It wasn’t the bar.

It was me.

I outgrew the memories.

I was the reason why I couldn’t go “home” again.

There is a perceived comfort of going home again, even if home wasn’t a very comfortable place to be. But it’s familiar, predictable, and known which tempts us to want to relive and cling to and even slightly revise the narrative to accommodate what we may have wished home actually was.

But you can’t really go back because you’re no longer who you were when you were originally there.

I appreciate all the homes I can never go home to again. The physical and the emotional. They were important parts of who I was, foundational building blocks of who I am. But who I will become? That needs me to allow myself to outgrow myself, to not let the lure of the certainty of the past prevent me from moving forward into the uncertainty of the future.

The past had its place, but it’s no place to live. It served its purpose, it was an important teacher, but holding on to our yesterdays weakens our grip on our tomorrows.

When we create an emotionally clear space to grow, it’s likely we will do so.

Photo by Victor Bouton on Unsplash

Peter Mis LivingHalfFull.com

Lessons From A Life Unfolding

Tag: life