Showing 2 Result(s)

Joy Necessitates Sorrow

By: Donna R. Wood, Existential Coach

“I beg your pardon. I never promised you a rose garden. Along with the sunshine, there’s got to be a little rain sometime…”  ~ Lyn Anderson

Life isn’t always a garden of roses and sunshine. Sometimes, bad things happen, and often to good people. The why of it all is an existential given of the unknown. We may never know why bad things happen to good people, except the fact that life was never promised to us as a state of constant happiness.

Oftentimes today, we read about the pursuit of perpetual happiness as being the end goal of life; but is it really? The answer is a resounding no. Life is a natural ebb and flow of joy and sorrow, ease and struggle.

This is the danger of allowing our lives to be led strictly by our emotions, which can be limiting – if not paralyzing – to the fullness of our human experience. That is not to say that we should not experience emotions at all. The trick is to not allow ourselves to get stuck in the emotions.

Our emotional world, as a whole, is the greatest example of bodily felt wisdom. Our emotions are there to guide us, alert us, warn us, tell us, or inform us that what we are experiencing physically, socially, or spiritually has meaning, for better or worse. They are our compass to navigating the world in which we live.

AS AN EXAMPLE:

I was involved in a toxic work environment that lasted almost three years. In the beginning, my emotional reaction was on point. I just didn’t listen to it. I knew in the depths of my being that I should get out. At the time, I was emotionally invested in my job, as most people working in nonprofits are. The emotional entanglement and compassion for the people was my greatest strength, and yet became my downfall in the end.

I fought the good fight. I had used my core values of Integrity, Honesty, Loyalty, and Compassion to try to right a great wrong that was being perpetrated on those very same people whom we were supposed to be helping. As time wore on, my compassion for the people was sacrificed at the altar of self-preservation. I wasn’t trying to save my job. I knew that ship had already sailed, and it would only be a matter of time. I was desperately trying to hold onto to life itself.

I had allowed myself to get trapped in a web of emotions that not only ended my career, but rendered me unable to make any decisions at all. I was so deeply invested in the emotions of the events that my logical-self had gotten lost along the way. I had become paralyzed by fear. I didn’t know what would happen next, or which way to go. I was literally wandering through life – and I was lost.

All of this could have been avoided if I had listened to my bodily felt wisdom and left in the beginning. Other people were jumping ship from all sides, but not me. I was going to make it right, come hell or high water; and both came at me from all sides like a tsunami.

MORAL OF THE STORY:

If your body is evoking emotions that are warning you, trust yourself and know that whatever it is telling you is right. Practice the pause and consider all possible outcomes. This only applies at the beginning; at the moment that you know something is wrong. It can happen at work, as it did me, or in relationships, or even social circles. Don’t wait until you are so heavily invested – emotionally, financially, physically, or even spiritually that getting out will take an act of God.

Life isn’t always a rose garden filled with sunshine and happiness. It is how well we are prepared for the storms of life that will determine to what degree we experience happiness. Through great difficulties, great joys are born. Preparing for the storms means to know yourself, trust yourself, and most importantly – believe yourself, then act accordingly.

Metamorphosis

“Ordinary is painful when you were born to be great!” ~ T. D. Jakes

by: Donna R. Wood

When the Butterfly sheds the chrysalis, there will be loss. There will be collateral damage. It will be uncomfortable and even painful at times. But, when those wings unfurl for the first time, life takes a new path. It is no longer crawling along the branches and leaves, but floating above it all in victory.

I was born in the late 1960s with a congenital heart defect that could have ended my life before it ever began. It didn’t. I spent a good number of years wondering what I had been saved from; surely death at birth would have been a far better alternative than the life I had been born into.

This constant search for the meaning and purpose of my life led me down some very dark and treacherous roads. I found myself in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Everywhere I looked there was death and destruction. I was surrounded by living ghosts – people who only existed, until their bodies wore out, and the reaper came to claim them, one by one.

I was terrified, because I knew with each passing day I was becoming one of them. I found myself very much alone on a road with hundreds of people. We trudged along, bearing the weight of all our shame and guilt for decisions made or not made; for love given or withheld. We trudged along, dragging our baggage with us, hoping to find an oasis in the desert; a place to rest. The oasis never came.

In the end, I was a living ghost, the same as all the rest. However, in the depths of the wells of despair and demoralization, pain and humiliation, there was the glow of a soft flame of strength and courage. With each breath that sustained my life, the flame sputtered, clinging to the hope for redemption.

I struggled with my own perception of myself, placed there by each new label as it had been firmly attached to my soul – single mother [shameful,] Godless [damning,] damaged goods [demoralizing,] and poverty stricken [unworthy.] These are only a few of the labels that had been placed on me by the world; the world, not me.

In the realization that my life was a living testimony to those labels, I began to tear them off one by one.

I couldn’t change the fact that I was a single mother, but I chose to tear the label in half. Now, I am just a mother. How liberating that is.

I couldn’t change the fact that I am damaged goods, I was born that way. I removed the word damaged from the label, and the ‘s’ from the last word. Now I am just good. I am kind and considerate of others. I am not perfect, but I try every day to live in a state of soul over ego.

I could change my socio-economic status. I went to college and graduated – twice – and have recently returned to challenging myself through courses offered on-line. I took the only gift I was given at birth, the gift of writing, and capitalized on it. This is not what makes me simply worthy, but I will talk about this in a future post. Godless – how does one conquer the label of Godless in a world where being damned by your labels prevails? Just be Godly like all the rest? Being like all the rest didn’t seem to work out very well the first time, so it required a bit more work. I found that I could not expect or receive compassion from all the rest – I had too many labels to overcome. I could not expect or receive forgiveness from all the rest – I was a living ghost encroaching on the land of the truly living. I had nothing to offer, nothing to give. I was damned to the wilderness, where I had to find it on my own or not at all.

Your labels and my labels may not be the same; however, what we choose to do with our labels is what really matters in the end.