ID me please

First off, two fabulous women left comments about the testing last week.  They are definitely worth the read.  HERE is Dianne's and HERE is Ashley's.  Thank you both for sharing.  

Three conversations have been running rampant through my head this weekend.

I remember talking to a friend years ago about stereotypes.  I was raging against them and he pointed out that they are useful.  Our brains can’t approach every situation as if it were brand new.  We create little boxes for people because that’s how we stay sane. 

In my very brief stint in therapy, the dude told me that he believes I like to define myself as being unique.  He also told me that he wasn’t so sure that was true.  I never liked that guy.  He was way too nosy.

The end of The Breakfast Club.   The Geek, the Jock, the Stoner and so on.  Not really a conversation I admit, but an alluringly simple way to see the world. 

I admit that I’m guilty on both sides of this.  I am arrogant enough to believe that I know everything about a person after a short conversation.  Maybe not even that much, maybe just a 30 second study of the contents of a grocery cart.  And as my husband pointed out the other day, I tend to use the “I’m incompetent” line excuse further incompetence.  At the same time, I get furious when people think they can generalize me based on one tiny piece of information. 

Last week I went in to see my favorite intuitive healer, Anne Steffen.  She warned me about the danger of getting attached to the oppressively heavy weight of cancer energy.  I may not have worded it the same way, but I totally agree.  Extrapolating from something else she said, it’s easy to let cancer become something you are rather than something you’ve experienced.   

 It’s really easy to define yourself by the worst thing you’ve ever been through.  And sometimes it seems like the harder you resist it, the bigger it becomes.  Just like when I said I’d never be like my parents and cringe every time I tell my kids “because I said so.”  The question I have no answer to yet is, How Do We Move Beyond That?  I firmly believe that we deserve better than to be defined by the worst thing we've ever done or the worst thing we've ever been through.  My problem is putting that into practice.  I come up with some great ideas about things that need to happen but often trip over three little words:  ok, now what? 

On my way home from seeing Anne, I stopped to buy a fire bowl.  Triple Fire Sign needs some Fire.   I’m now in the planning stages of writing what I need to let go, then burning the paper.  And singing hymns.

Just kidding about the hymns part. 

Sorta.

I highly doubt there will be any goat sacrifices though.