Tea

Okay, time to stop being bullied by the parts of me that are angry and afraid. These are the little kids who constantly run around in my head, never seeming to run out of breath. You know, those little kids who kick us around sometimes. Hmm, I think I will invite them to tea. I will tell them that I understand, that I remember, that I have heard their complaints. I will also let them know that they no longer provide useful council. I will simply report this. I will simply let them know that I have covered a lot of ground since those early days of me. I will look to find a good place for them to sit quietly on the outskirts of my present life so that they can see what is going on, so that they can rest assured, can rest.

I will note their names in clear block letters, nothing fancy, I know who they are.

Guilt, I see you, longtime companion. You serve on the court of “not having” by encouraging me to reject others’ respect, recognition, kindness, or other offerings because I “don’t deserve them.” Not receiving is a way of rejecting, by the way. But you wouldn’t know that, Guilt, because you only have one side of the story. “I cannot give what I do not receive” is what I am told. Guilt, I know you block my ability to replenish. I no longer will feed the past from the plentitude of my future. 

Jealousy, I see you. But these days I am my own person, and I am on my own crooked, sometimes rocky, always beautiful path. I have many more things to do. Yes, the grass is always greener, Jealousy, and I know that you will always have a little voice in me, but your perceptions are neither helpful nor kind. The “comparative mind” actually knows very little about me and even less about the other.

Disappointment, I see you. But truthfully you drag me down, stop me from breathing in the fresh air of gratitude, creativity, resilience. These are so much more powerful. “Disappointed” is a dry wind that blows dust in my face. You have nothing new to teach me.

Judgment, I see you. But you are a mask, and you get in the way of my being able to recognize the connections I already have, of really valuing them. You mask my beauty, and love -- love of self and others. From now on, when I feel you rising up, I will ask myself, What action shall I take? Judgment reflects a commitment to passivity. I no longer value this contract. Judgment, I know you, and I know your power to hijack my best self.

Regret, I see you. But your messages are only about what is already gone. I have made choices, and if I do not follow you into the dark alley, I can make all of those choices meaningful. There is a cost, yes, and there is a gift, many gifts. I know I have to let you go, Regret, because I cannot see what is in front of me when I only look behind.

Anxiety, who are you? You have so many disguises. I know you more by another name, Avoidance. I have often moved directly to that, bypassing … grief, anger, confrontation, anxiety. These days I am making a practice of letting myself look first. It takes some effort. It is an exercise. To build strength, to work a muscle that has been dormant. First, I acknowledge that I am putting something off, whether picking up the phone, opening the envelope, completing the task, having the conversation. I call it by its name, Avoidance. Then I tell the truth, slow down the reflex to scroll through Facebook, start a new project, go out to dinner. I insert a pause between the first sign of turning away and the next blind step. Telling the truth is a productive pause. As soon as I do that, I send a secret message to my body: You can do this. You are ready now. You may be a little awkward, but you are ready. By not immediately throwing my arms around Avoidance, I let Anxiety know that it is almost time — almost time for this part to take a seat next to the others.

And as each of these old familiars moves from my front and center, more room opens up for other parts. Don’t be nervous, Compassion, I will welcome you. And you, Confidence, make your way. Yes, I have glimpsed you in the past, but I was busy tidying up (even as I made more mess). Thank you for your patience. I see you more fully now, and the others too. In this space I can get to know you all better. I can grow my trust in you. More important, you can grow your trust in me. 

Adapted from a letter to M. Copyright c 2019 by Suzi Tucker