Category Archives: Emotions

What if…your anger is a window into what you are passionate about?

Wanting to find your passion for that next career, but not feeling it?

Wanting to make changes, but not sure what to move towards?

When my grandmother first went into the hospital at the end of her life she was in a room with two beds. It seemed the polite thing to do to say hello to the person in the other bed, particularly when he had the bed closest to the door. So each time I came into or left the room I acknowledged the man with a hello.

My grandmother was eventually moved to her own room. For whatever reason, I made a decision to keep visiting the gentleman in her old room. It became clear that other visitors were sparse, that he too was terminally ill, and that he welcomed the conversation.

I came away from that experience with very mixed emotions. Part of me was incredibly sad. I was in anticipatory grief, leaving my Grandmother’s bedside knowing I would not see her alive again. I was also angry.

I could not stop thinking about the gentleman who was dying and who had had limited attention. I felt a sense of injustice. No one should die alone!

I did not know what palliative care was at that time, other than my grandmother had been declared palliative and I knew that meant she was dying. When, how, what it might look like – I had no insights.

My anger both for the man in his aloneness, and anger in judgement of myself – for not knowing how end of life worked – sparked me to look into hospice and palliative care and step into training.

I now know that palliative care and palliative wards tend to operate differently than other parts of the hospital. It is, generally speaking, about comfort care rather than curative care. My hope is that the gentleman I paid several visits to was indeed able to experience comfort in the care he received while at the hospital.

Palliative care wards also tend to have volunteers who come and visit on a daily basis. I have also come to appreciate that some individuals do want to be alone as they draw to the end of their life. Others welcome connection. The gentleman clearly wanted the hellos.

Sometimes anger is a signal that something or someone matters.

Perhaps a value you hold dear is being violated and it is sparking anger. Perhaps you see someone else’s pain and you want to alleviate it, you want to help them, but you don’t know how. Anger or frustration, a sense of fire in your belly, might just be a call to step in, to be curious and follow your energy.

While I have been in and around loss, death, and grief in a professional capacity for several years, I’m still surprised to find myself in this space. When I left academia I was a business school professor. I have advanced degrees in engineering. None of that is about grief or bereavement support. Now I help people step into some pretty tough circumstances in their lives. And I love what I do. The surprise to find myself doing this work is paradoxically accompanied by a deep knowing I’m in a space I’m meant to be in.

It all began in anger, a sense of injustice, self-judgement, and questioning.

So what might your anger be igniting in you?

The next time you are angry at a circumstance, feeling a sense of injustice, or going on about how the system needs to change, I invite you to take a step back and ask what your anger is asking of you.

Perhaps you too will uncover a career calling, or a new way of being in the world.

What if being sad is as worthy as being grateful?

I’ve noticed several posts on social media relating to gratitude and being grateful as we launch into 2015. I made my own contribution offering that the words “I am grateful for _______” (fill in the blank) could be a great way to start the year. I was intrigued by one post’s suggestion to start a gratitude jar that you could put little notes of expressions of gratitude into over the course of the year and then review them at the end of the year. The visual of the growing gratitude in the jar appeals to me.

Having a gratitude practice can be considered a positive way to be in the world and it is often described as part of being mindful or present to what is unfolding in your life. Gratitude can also help to reframe a difficult or challenging set of circumstances. Seeing the learning in a trying scenario, or appreciating the flashes of positive in an other wise difficult situation can be a way to cope and bring some ease.

I had a recent experience with a holiday not turning out as expected. No where in the vision of the holiday was there a dead car battery, a flood in the basement, a lingering cold, an eye infection, and a sprained ankle.

I’m all for having a gratitude practice but I’ll be honest, I was having a hard time being genuinely grateful when I reflected on the various trials and tribulations of the holiday. Sure I came up with the gratitude words – gratitude for the services being available, gratitude for the sprain not being worse – but the felt sense of gratitude wasn’t there. When I expressed the words, there was a sensation of suppression or denial, like some part of me was not getting the acknowledgement it was needing. The words felt hollow. I was grudgingly grateful!

Here’s a gentle caution around gratitude. Sometimes we’ll focus on the “positive” or “good” as a strategy to avoid what we are truly feeling in the moment. A gratitude practice can be used to try and bypass having to step into expressions of pain, sadness, anger, or frustration. That’s not positive thinking or reframing, that is denial.

Sometimes crap happens. The place to start is to acknowledge the pain, or sadness, the losses – the things that didn’t turn out as expected. They are just as important and worthy of expression as any expression of gratitude. Absolutely step into gratitude when you are ready. I can be thankful for the roadside assistance I was able to call when I needed a boost for the car, but I needed to start by acknowledging that having to call for road-side assistance was not fun and that I felt frustrated and anxious in the circumstances.

So what did I do when I got home from my holiday? Did I give up on the gratitude jar idea? Nope, but I did modify it slightly. It took the form of starting two jars – an Expressions of Gratitude jar and an Expressions of Loss and Grief jar. I reflected on my trip and expressed both the good and the painful. Both jars are important. Both jars are worthy. As a set the jars are a form of self-empathy honoring all of my experiences and the emotions associated with them.

Invitation: when you invite yourself to express gratitude, check-in and see if there is anything else needing expression too. Honor all of your emotions.

How long does healing take?

A recent ankle sprain has me working hard at speeding up my healing.

I’m told “Four to six weeks – at least – before I can begin to think about doing my regular activities.” Forget about it! One, two weeks tops! The brace? The ice? Don’t really need ’em . I can heal better and faster than any statistic. I’m a good healer!

This experience has given me the opportunity to notice my desire to speed up my healing, to put it on a timeline of my choice. A couple of observations:

Our language around healing implies there is both timing and an ending to our healing.

“You’ll be healthy in no time!”

“You’ve been sick/grieving/grumpy/sad for long enough now.” Likely followed by a “Get over it.”

Our many and varied health practitioners frequently give us timelines.

“Give it a week and you should be back to normal.”

Or they offer solutions that imply I can speed up, or at least control my healing.

If I eat the right thing…

If I do the right exercise…

If I take a pill…

If I get a good night’s sleep…

If I meditate…

If I follow these 3 easy steps, I’ll be better in no time.

Many of our policies incorporate timeline and endings as well.

Three days of bereavement leave. Two weeks of sick leave. Six months of extended disability leave.

These messages have us believing we can speed up our healing, that we can, at the very least, control it and make it happen to a certain prescribed time window.

The more work I do facilitating bereavement groups, the more I appreciate that the journey of grief – also a healing journey of sorts – takes as long as it takes. One thing I know for sure – we do not “get over” or “get through” a significant loss in 3 days. Each individual is different. Each circumstance is different. Each set of losses is different. The accompanying journey and its timing is different.

How long does it take to get over someone? (If we ever actually “get over”….)

How long does it take to make a career change?

How long does the process of cancer, spinal fusion surgery, or depression take?

Here’s where I’ve landed as I’ve explored my push to heal faster…

My ankle is going to take as long as it takes. I believe my actions have the capacity to slow down my healing, but I’m realizing they can’t speed up my healing.

I don’t think we have the power to speed up healing – your body , mind, and spirit have their own timelines . Those timelines could entail minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, or a lifetime!

I do however believe we have the power to enhance our healing.

For example our reflective practices, exercise, living life on purpose, being vulnerable, stepping into rather than away from our emotions – all of these have the potential to encourage and enliven our healing. This is in no way an exhaustive list – you have your own practices and approaches. Those may include medications, doctors, counselors, coaches, intuitive readers, or not. They may include eating certain types of food or not. Whatever your practices, I don’t believe we can control our healing, but I do believe our actions/choices can be in service of it. Perhaps a subtle, but I believe significant distinction.

Your invitation – to step into life changes, growth, and healing without strict timelines. It is not about speed. It is about being human. It is about allowing.

What if we could gracefully give ourselves the time needed for the “stuff” of life?

Text and Images Copyright © Dr. Catherine Hajnal 2014

Living Your Dash

I can’t remember when I first heard about the poem The Dash by Linda Ellis. What I do know is that every time I read it I renew my desire to live my life on purpose – to continue to do work that feeds my soul, to do one thing a day that scares me (encouraging my evolution), to step into the emotions that feel difficult or uncomfortable, to let the good stuff sink in including expressing gratitude and love, and to see the possibility in whatever is showing up in my life.

Here’s the general gist of the poem. (I encourage you to read it in its entirety here.) On a tombstone there is a beginning date and an end date. In between those two dates is a dash. That tiny dash represents the fullness of your life. The question the poem raises is what do you want to do with your dash?

The intention here is not to instill fear of the end-date (the second date on your tombstone). Stirring up panic and a sense of scarcity of time is not the vibe I personally want to have clouding my dash. The reality however is we generally don’t know when our end-date is coming. We imagine living a long and fruitful life and yet anything could happen.

Here’s the approach I’ve taken. I’ve asked myself what do I want to be doing now so that if I found out I was terminally ill and going to die within a month or two I would have some degree of ease because I had been living my life on purpose, because I had been making choices in awareness of the reality of not knowing when the end will come. I don’t think it is possible to live without regret (the words that come of my mouth some times – yeesh!), yet I do think it is possible to minimize regret through actions like vulnerability, compassion, empathy, and a willingness to ask for re-do’s or acknowledge mistakes.

Do the people you love and who matter the most to you know it through your words and actions?

Is the work you are doing feeling your spirit – does it make your heart sing?

Are you learning from and in the discomfort that life gives?

Are you being gentle with yourself? Do you acknowledge your self-worth?

Are you having fun?

I ask these questions not to invoke shame or a sense of “not enough”, rather they are invitations to reflect on how you are living your dash. You are worthy and enough no matter how you are living your dash. AND you have agency in how you live your dash. I realize sometimes it can feel like you have anything but power and possibility in your life. This is the gentle reminder that there is always choice. That you can bring “creator” energy to your daily life.

Dream like you’ll life forever. Live as if you’ll die tomorrow. ~James Dean

I’ll be speaking on this topic on Sunday February 23rd as part of the service at the Centre For Spiritual Living Vancouver. Please join me if you are interested in reflecting on how you live your dash. [11 AM Creekside Community Centre, Olympic Village, Vancouver]

Love is…

How do you define love?

I was asked to give a talk at Unity of Vancouver earlier this month. The theme, given to me by Unity, was Love. As part of the preparation for my talk I asked myself “What is my definition of love?” Love is one of those words that we see everywhere, used in all kinds of contexts from “I love chocolate,” to “Love is life force energy,” to “Love hurts!”

My start was to define love as emotion and things evolved from there! I’m not going to give away where things ended up – you’ll have to listen to the talk for that (a big tease I know!) – but I will say that my definition was inspired by ideas from:

meta-physics and the New Thought Movement – and in particular a book entitled The Twelve Powers by Charles FIllmore. I focused on the two soul powers of love and wisdom.
the belly brain (the seed of your wisdom power perhaps…) and the heart brain (the seed of your love power perhaps…) – two concepts referred to in the context of Interpersonal Neurobiology.
a fun website I explored called www.canyoudefinelove.com.
many poems, words, and songs on love from the likes of Rumi, John Denver, Deepak Chopra, and more!
images of love from Gaping Void – here’s one of my favourites.

I hope my talk inspires you to connect with and listen to love – in all its shades and hues. You’ll find the talk here (mp3)…

P.S. Came across many jokes/sayings about love in my exploration as well. This one made me smile:

Do you believe in love at first site? Or should I walk past again?

Telling A Different Story

I was reminded recently about the power of reframing. Reframing is when you tell a different story, a re-interpretation of some aspect or event in your life. Mine had to do with clearing out my storage locker. I have been wanting (and sort of not wanting) to make it happen for a few months now. I recently signed the piece of paper that says I’ll have the space clear for June 1. Signing was the way for me to “force” my hand – to create that deadline to move me into action. Here’s the general story I was telling:

I don’t want to deal with clearing out my storage locker. This going to be painful. How am I going to make this happen? This is going to be a hassle putting things online to sell, coordinating with people, meeting them at my storage locker, negotiating (if anybody even wants to buy anything), yeesh! Am I going to have to ask someone to help me? I can’t be in the locker and meeting someone at the entrance to the building at the same time. And what if I can’t get rid of anything? What will I do then? How I will get rid of what remains? It won’t fit in my car. I don’t want to just take it all to landfill. That’s not very considerate of the environment. I’ve got a deadline now. Why did I do that? Why didn’t I do a better job at getting rid of this stuff when I made my last move? I’ve been paying rent on this locker for a few months now – that’s money out the window given the low value of everything in it. I love some of that stuff. Part of me is really sad to see it go.

In the world of NVC, most of this would be labelled Jackal voice. The voice that is judgmental, critical, and generally not positive. Sometimes that voice speaks very loudly in my head. It brings me down. It zaps my energy to the point that sometimes I feel unable to muster up the motivation to even start a project. In this instance I was motivated because I’m trying to manage my budget differently right now and there was no way to justify what I was spending on the storage. It just didn’t make sense to hold on to the stuff for economic or sentimental reasons. Yet I was still having a hard time making this project happen.

Sometimes it is about taking one step. Getting a small “win” – trying something that is successful in its outcome. Small steps for me included getting into the storage locker and taking some pictures of things I wanted to sell along with some dimensions. I had a friend offer to help me with this so in the first round of picture taking I was supported. It ended up being another month’s worth of locker rental fees before I actually did something with those pictures, but having them in hand along with the support of a friend was a first step.

Then I started telling more friends about what I was trying to do – clear out my locker. I would tell them about what I had in there with the hopes that maybe a friend or two would take some of the stuff off my hands. That felt like it would be an easier way for it to unfold. Through that process I did pass on a few things. That meant I went to the locker a few times and some items actually came out. Another set of small steps.

With a few small steps under my belt I found some spaciousness over the whole thing. I was still in a grumbly frame of mind about it, but I also began to sense a light at the end of the tunnel. I began to feel like I might be able to make it happen. I knew I still needed a strong kick of something to really make me do it. For me that was signing the paper that said I would be out – and that my payments would be no more!

And then a friend came and took a few more things that created more spaciousness in the locker and in my sense of well-being. Yet another small step. With the literal space in the locker I was able to take more pictures and get the dimensions of some items. It was time to post the items online. Still resistance, but now a looming deadline.

I had tired to sell something on Craigslist a few months ago, and as I think about that, I realize it was one of my very first steps toward clearing out my storage locker. I wasn’t even selling something that was in storage at that time – it was something I had in my apartment – it served to help me see that I could sell something online and that it didn’t have to be too painful. Setting up the ad had been quick and kind of fun.

I took the next bold step of putting up a bunch of ads on Craigslist – descriptions, dimensions, and pictures of my goodies. I even chose to put some of the history – the sentiment – of the pieces in the ads, and I chose to acknowledge the pieces I was sad to see go.

Within about 15 minutes of placing the ads the first call came in. Metal garden ornament – “I’ll take it. Could we meet in about 45 minutes for the handoff?” More emails and phone calls on that one. It was gone already. In one of the phone calls the woman said she too had lived in the prairies (part of the sentiment I had included in my ad) and could see how the ornament would remind me of that. The man who made the first call and was the one who bought it off me was tickled pink to be buying it for his wife who was away. He knew she would enjoy it so it would be a surprise for her when she got home. He was recently retired and still figuring out what to do with his time.

And then the island/storage unit – the piece I was most worried about due to its size. It also had a lot of sentimental value, so was one of hardest for me to let go. A young couple were moving into a new apartment. They had recently finished school and were looking to furnish their new place. I enjoyed them so much I even threw in a carpet was I going to give to a thrift store.

“I sit on the sofa and work on my computer, but the coffee table is too low and it’s hurting my back. I think this desk with wheels will work well.” Off went the small yet functional metal desk.

Can you feel how my energy has shifted? My story started with this very negative voice. I’m currently in the energy of really enjoying this project. Sure, it has had some hassles. What I hadn’t appreciated was the really lovely people I might meet along the way. I haven’t had a lot of emails and phone calls, but I didn’t need to have a lot. Each of the people I spoken with bought something and each of them was delightful to connect with. Hmmmm – why didn’t I start with that story – a story of the possibility of fun, adventure, connection?

Here’s where the self-empathy part fits in. That jackal voice earlier was some fear talking. A lovely part of each of us – that fear voice that is there to keep us each safe. I was walking into uncharted territory. I’ve never had to clear out a storage locker before. Lots of unknown and uncertainty means my needs for control and clarity flare up – unmet in that moment. My need to appear competent – triggered by the voice of “What if I can’t make it work?” – was flaring up too.

I’ve been reminded of some lessons I’ve heard before and I guess I needed to hear and experience again.

The first is to take small steps. It is okay to be tentative, dipping in a big toe – trying something – without having to figure out it all out. This includes being gentle with self – with whatever approach I might need to take and to give myself time. Yes, sometimes things/projects will take longer than I want them to.

Second, when I’m in that negative, jackal voice, here’s a open invitation to try a different story, or at least play with the “What if…” story. What if the project could unfold with ease? What if I could have some fun? What if it could mean I meet some really interesting people? What if I could own being sad to see some of the stuff go and give myself permission to grieve? What if it is a bit scarey and that’s okay too?

I’m amazed at how different my reality has turned out to be from the story I first started with. I’m delighted to report the new story. I’m reminded of the power of story and how noticing my story and inviting a new one has the power to change what might be labelled a negative energy story into something very positive.

And finally I’m reminded of the power of sharing our stories. When we keep things bottled inside, it can often continue to feed our negative cycles. Even if the first story we are telling is a negative one, tell it any way. As I shared my story and began to get support with friends – those were the seeds of shifting my energy and being able to paint a new story.

What stories are you telling right now that aren’t feeling good? How might you be able to tell those stories a little differently? Start small – give yourself some permission to “What if…”. Give yourself permission to have a different story. Give yourself permission to find a story that feels better. Whatever your story, share it with your friends.

P.S. As of June 1, the storage locker is empty and I’m no longer making payments!

The Other Side of Hope

Hope. Hopelessness. Two sides of the same coin?

I’ve been thinking about hope recently, inspired by a book I just finished reading entitled Lessons For The Living: Stories of Forgiveness, Gratitude and Courage at the End of Life by Stan Goldberg. Stan is a cancer survivor and volunteers in a hospice. He brings what he has learned from these experiences into the book.

Here’s an excerpt from his chapter entitled “The Dilemma of Hope.”

Poof! Not only did hope disappear, but as I looked back on who I became during the intervening time between the onset of hope and learning that my dream wasn’t going to be fulfilled, it wasn’t pleasant realizing that I had allowed hope to let the new me slip away. People often contrast hope with hopelessness, as if the former is always positive and the latter always negative. It’s a false dichotomy based on a simplistic understanding of the role of hope. For Joyce [a hospice patient], hope prevented her from living in the present and appreciating the marvelous things she had accomplished. For me, hope transformed the scientist and humanist in me into someone who put all faith on the throw of the dice. Worse, for eighteen months it robbed me of being more genuine with the people I loved.

The absence of hope isn’t a negative state. The disappearance of hope put me squarely into the present…I no longer invest energy in hoping that the cancer will remain under control — I’m too busy living.

Past, present, future. We need all of them. Sometimes looking at the past enables us to reframe it so that we can live in the present. So that those hooks of past experiences don’t weigh us down, rather they inspire us to go forth in our lives. And sometimes those memories from the past bring us great joy in the present as we remember a fun adventure or a now past loved. And yet we can’t live in those past stories, we live here. Now. In the present moment.

Hope takes us, me, to the future. I want hope. I want hope that things can be different. It is part of what inspires me. I help people connect with their own answers in the belief that they can achieve something different for their next moment. That’s hope. Maybe it is even beyond, more, deeper than hope.

At the same time I don’t want hope to take me out of connecting with this moment – of seeing what is in front of me right here, right now. Of being with what is.

I can also feel an edge to hope – the edge that says I want something different and yet I have to consider it might not happen. If I know it will happen, then it is knowing, belief – beyond hope.

I’m reflecting on hope in the context of a good friend of mine who is living with a lot of pain right now. I so hope for him to be pain free. There it is – that edge of hope that says maybe he’ll never be pain free. In the present moment I find myself having to let in his pain and that’s uncomfortable for me. It hurts to see someone I care about in pain. Having hope seems easier. It takes me out of having to fully accept his reality in this moment. It enables me to side step the depth of my own emotions.

So if I don’t have hope, is it hopeless? No. Hopeless feels dark and I don’t feel dark. There is a deeper knowing here that regardless of what tomorrow brings, I’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. It may not be pretty, but it will be okay. It will be what that moment of life brings.

So perhaps the other side of hope, as Stan suggests is presence. And perhaps it is belief, knowing. Surrendering to what is.

Spinach Between My Teeth

Have you ever been to a two hour meeting where you met a bunch of new people, laughed, and shared stores and then upon arriving home from said meeting realized you had spinach between your front teeth the whole time?

Yup. Just had that experience.

First feelings – mortification, embarrassment. Convinced they think I’m an idiot – ah that warm wash of shame that says “I’m not good enough.” My needs for belonging, connection, acceptance, acknowledgment, competence – absolutely not being met in that first instance of seeing dinner’s spinach pizza between my teeth.

Why didn’t anyone say anything?

Yes, truly, why don’t people say anything? I spoke to several new people that evening and no one said anything. It is interesting to consider the “spinach between the teeth” scenario from their perspective. So let me put myself in their shoes by considering what happens to me when I encounter someone who has spinach (or some other visible food item) between their teeth. Here are the some of the voices in my head I can recall from a recent “incident”:

Do I tell them they have spinach between their teeth? I don’t want to interrupt them. Gosh this could feel embarrassing. I don’t want to embarrass them. How do I do this discretely?

What I’m noticing in my body as I type those sentences is my discomfort. Discomfort triggered by thoughts of their discomfort and it is my own discomfort that stops me from saying anything. I don’t want to risk having to be present for their discomfort. How paradoxical! Rather than step in and potentially easily resolve, I hold back, shut down in a way and experience my discomfort rather than theirs.

So I’m imaging all those people who were talking with me were experiencing their own discomfort with my spinach.

What to do?

Step in to whatever is alive for you. I advocate that for both the Spinachee and the Noticer. So in the first instance for Spinach Smile Me I get to once again practice self-connecting and offering some self-empathy. My first reactions were just that, my first reactions – the embarrassment, the shame. Triggered by my lovely needs – the desire to connect, the desire to be perceived as competent. The desire to be noticed – to be seen – not for my spinach but for who I truly am. And isn’t it possible that the conversations I had were worthy, engaging, connecting – with or without spinach!?!

And for the Noticer Me – the one who is staring (or trying not to) at the spinach in someone else’s teeth – I can step into that discomfort too. Sure, it might be a little awkward to point out the spinach. Those are my thoughts of how it might be – it doesn’t actually have to be. Why not try it? I can notice my discomfort, love myself for being concerned about how my words might impact the other and go forth anyway. It could be as simple as:

“I’m just going to quickly mention you have some spinach between your teeth.”

“Oh. Gosh, would hate to get home and discover it in the mirror myself tonight. Grateful you mentioned it. What was I saying about…”

Being Responsible

I’m a nurturer, caregiver type person. It is who I am. It is how I show up in the world. I care about people. I care how they are feeling – physically, emotionally, spiritually. This a good set of qualities to have – it is part of my purpose in life. It is part of why I do the work I do. All good.

And yet like every aspect of ourselves – of myself – sometimes it doesn’t serve me. I’ve found that any facet of me is a double edged sword. This is not a critique, it just is. So right now I have a friend in my life for who I’m concerned about their health. In my nurturing, caring mode it becomes really easy for me to take on their stuff. To feel responsible for their sense of well-being.

This ties into my deep seeded need for control as well. I’m anxious about my friend. I want to fix the situation. I want to make it better. But I can’t. I can’t because the choices toward healing are not mine to make. They belong to my friend. My friend’s health is not my responsibility though in my discomfort it feels like I would find ease if I take it on.

So what is mine to take on? What I do have responsibility for are my own emotions, my own behavior – how I show up in the situation. What I can do is share how I’m feeling – that I’m concerned about my friend’s well being. What I can do is express my willingness to support and help in ways that my friend wants. I could do research into options for example. I could be a sounding board for whatever decisions my friend might need to make. And if my friend wants, I could just be quiet. Hard for me to do, and as a consequence, a great place for me to grow into should my friend ask that of me. I get to be responsible for that growth.

What sense of responsibility are you taking on out of feelings of anxiousness or uncertainly that doesn’t actually belong to you? Is there some situation you have injected yourself into because by doing so, it gives you a sense of control? Being responsible means taking care of you, owning your emotions, it doesn’t mean fixing somebody else. Being responsible means I acknowledge I’m anxious, wanting to help, and wishing the circumstances could be different.

Take It Personally

Here’s the scenario:

I’ve sent emails out to two different friends who are important in my life and have not had a response from either of them. For one friend the norm is to hear back the very day I send the email. It is now three days later. For the other friend, I’ve been sending emails for a few months now with no response and phone calls haven’t lead me anywhere either.

My first response, or perhaps better said, reaction, is to assume I have done something wrong. What did I say or do that has resulted in them not wanting to talk to/connect with me? This is my default shame reaction where I take things personally and I ground them in my sense of a “less-than” self.

I’m a little older and wiser now with all the work I have done on myself these least few years so I can at least see going to that shame place. I usually can’t stop myself from going there, yet now that I see myself going there I have options. With awareness comes choice.

I remind myself that yes, I may have been a trigger for that person in some way, but I get to give their reaction back to them. I get to be responsible for my own feelings and they get to be responsible for theirs. So in actuality I do get to take it personally, just my own personal, I get to look at what is coming up for me.

That “own personal” attention is for me a form of self-empathy. I get to acknowledge my feelings and explore what is behind them – my needs. Just as valid as my whatever may be transpiring for my friends. I have a direct line into me.

So what is coming up for me? I’m sad these friends have not replied back. And I’m concerned about them on two fronts. One, maybe something is unfolding for them that has absolutely nothing to do with our exchanges. Can I help?

Second, if I have said something to trigger either of them, I would like to know what that is. Perhaps there is a way I can reframe something. Perhaps I’ve been misunderstood. And perhaps it is just going to be a tigger – I might have said something that sounded just like one of their parents and depending on their history, they were transported back there for a while. It can be a bit scarey and vulnerable to step into finding out, but I’m willing to go there. Here, while I’m part of the exchange, I’m not coming from the place of having done something wrong.

What’s behind all of this is are MY needs for connection, belonging, clarity, consideration, and love. And those are beautiful needs. I don’t have to think of myself as “less than” for having those needs. In the past I’ve done an immediate translation to equate anxiousness with the shame response. Now I can see that the anxiousness means some of my needs are not being met. I’m whole, I’m just wanting connection.

So the next time you feel to take something personally, believing that you are somehow at fault, less than, for something, I invite you take it personally – your own personal – and look behind the circumstances. Which of your needs are calling forth?