wlotus | Mar. 27th, 2008

Taken from an email to a friend...

I feel like I have been holding my breath underwater all week. Right now this moment, though, I feel fine. I am awake far too early for some reason I cannot fathom, but I'm not worried about that.

The situation with my therapist has me more anxious than I would like. My tendency is to beat up on myself for not graciously, mindlessly trusting her, and whenever I feel the least bit of conviction that I am doing my best, my mind asks why I am resisting the idea that I could be utterly wrong in all of this. There are times when my mind is not my friend, and this is one of those times. But I am rereading (and rereading) "The Four Agreements", and I know I am keeping the fourth agreement: always do your best. I am being as open as I know to be. I am looking at myself as honestly as I know how.

And I am looking at my signature quoteⁱ and wondering if the thorny bush in this case would be my therapist or myself. :-)

Trusting myself is difficult. Accepting the idea that others trust and believe in me is difficult. When people support my thought processes concerning my interactions with my therapist, I feel guilty and wonder what aspect of the interaction I have not been completely honest about. My assumption seems to be they wouldn't support me, if they knew the whole story. When people question my part in things, even if I feel stabs of annoyance, I feel relief, because *that* is what I am used to: being doubted or questioned or blamed. Of course I have not been as open as I ought to be, because I am inherently flawed and do not deserve support, right? (Wrong. That question comes from unhealthy domestication; writing it out helps me recognize it as such.)

Last night my cousin suggested putting the kitten in the bathroom overnight, so his early morning whining about being locked up would not disturb my sleep--his carrier is right outside my bedroom door--and I had to fight the urge to argue that isn't necessary. She was taking my need for undisturbed rest seriously, and I was all ready to downplay it and insist it wasn't a big deal. But it *is* a big deal, and I caught myself in time to thank her without argument.

And I felt guilty.

You know what, though? I did my best. And, guilt or not, I stopped an old habit before it could influence the conversation. That's a big deal.

Suddenly I don't feel guilty anymore.

ⁱYou cannot complain about the pain while continuing to hug the thorny bush.
~ Amma