Doing the right thing always trumps reacting to … anything.
What’s happening in the perceived version of to instead of for.
Corporate politics and drama almost fucking got me today – almost. As salespeople we are feeling a bit desperate as the world continues to spin without us. We’re feeling the pressure from above and the unchanging budgets as year end approaches. Like most, I cannot see the forest through the trees.
I feel privileged in my experience that although I cannot see the trees, I know they are there. I know they are there because I am here right now. I know they are there because I have been through hell and back, and not only survived, but prevailed. I have come through the fire and shaken off the ashes and almost forgotten how badly it burnt on my way out.
Almost. Living principled isn’t always easy, feel good, or even my second choice. But because I have disciplined and trained myself to default into better behavior regardless of what’s coming down the pike, I end up on the other side unscathed and at least without owing the world an apology. I may spew and I may cry, and I may freak out for the moment, day or week, but I eventually come to and realize that what I perceive as happening to me, is actually happening for me.
That client that won’t seem to settle no matter what? Thank you for the reminder to clear the space for someone grateful, open, and soft. That prospect that said no even though everything makes sense? Thank you for the reminder to clear the space for someone who wants what we have. That friend who won’t show up consistently and keeps letting me down? Thank you for the reminder that I can be compassionate and grateful and mindful of the times I couldn’t show up either, and that maybe I need to continue to revamp those times I say “yes” and the times I need to be saying “no”.
Things are hard for a lot of us right now. They are a lot harder when we make up shitty stories with miserable endings. They are a lot harder when we stop practicing what we’ve been taught and stop acting with grace and respect. They are a lot harder when we don’t do what we’re meant to do, and stop being of service. They are a lot harder when we don’t take care of ourselves.
There was a time, for a very long time, when I tried to bury it and avoid it and hope to feel better as a result. I’d eat, or not eat, and hope my situation changed. I’d exercise more, or hide in my bed, and hope my feelings passed. I’d yell, scream, throw shit and outwardly and abusively blame you, hoping that somehow that’d make me feel better.
It never did. And it never changed what was happening, either. It never made me wake up to a new place on Earth, with no problems. It never made my bank account bigger, or gas tank fuller, or food more neutral. Ever.
So today, when I wanted to say fuck all to work and shut down my computer and not talk to anyone, I kept on it. I took more breaks and did things around the house for 5 to 10 minutes at a time, to clear my head. I kept up with emails and was more methodical and thorough in my responses. I did my work that I had sought out to do, just a little bit differently. I still did tomorrow’s too, because my day allowed for it and I know come tomorrow afternoon, the gym will be calling, and I’ll be wanting of some real space. And I won’t feel guilty because I didn’t do what I was supposed to do, and I didn’t neglect my responsibilities while I also didn’t negate my feelings or avoid them. I stayed. I let people know how I was feeling. I didn’t hold any hostages – I just felt the feelings and let them pass.
And as a result, it’s 5 o’clock and I’m signed off. I have a card staring at me saying “In Stillness I receive”. I can affirm that it’s true: I am receiving. I am receiving the text messages from my boss that she cares and that she believes in me. I am receiving of the upstanding peers outnumbering the drama queens. I am receiving of the sun and the warmth and the grace in this hose Mike and I cohabit together – happily. I am receiving my health and my wealth and my sobriety – from all of life, all of the time.
I am receiving that although I don’t always want to, I go ahead anyway, and it always turns out a lot better than my disease ever told me it would. Every time.