What a radical concept.
Many of us unconsciously believe if another person has an abundance of love, money, friends…whatever, that means we won't have enough. How would our lives be different without that thought? Too often, when another person has what we feel we lack, we get envious, angry, or simply judgmental. We ask "Who are they to be so rewarded?" What we are really asking is, "Who am I to not be so rewarded?"
How would our lives be different if we rejoiced at another person's good fortune to have what we desire? That might be a path to knowing we are enough.
Talk about a radical concept...
Monday, May 3, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Testing Reality—Theory vs. Facts
How many of us test our view of reality? By the time we have reached adulthood, most of us have pretty firm ideas about how the world works. The problem is, often those beliefs are based on what we think is happening, based on past experience, rather than what is really happening.
I recently went to a discussion of inclusion and exclusion. Several people spoke of situations they felt left out. However, when they actually talked to the people they perceived to be excluding them, they discovered their assumptions were wrong. In other words, their theory did not fit the facts.
How many times do we do that? Almost always, I would wager. If we approach situations with an air of curiosity about what is really happening, we stand a chance of changing old theories that keep us stuck.
Reality is usually kinder than what we are telling ourselves (our theories.) When you think about it, if our thoughts in our heads are making us feel bad, the chances of the facts making us feel worse are amazingly slim. There is a much better chance that the facts are kinder than our theories.
When we are willing to test our theories against reality, we often find our risk is beautifully rewarded. In fact, I’m going to do that right now. Wish me luck!
Addendum--I am happy to report that, indeed, in the case above, my theory was wrong and the truth was kinder than my thoughts. Yea!
I recently went to a discussion of inclusion and exclusion. Several people spoke of situations they felt left out. However, when they actually talked to the people they perceived to be excluding them, they discovered their assumptions were wrong. In other words, their theory did not fit the facts.
How many times do we do that? Almost always, I would wager. If we approach situations with an air of curiosity about what is really happening, we stand a chance of changing old theories that keep us stuck.
Reality is usually kinder than what we are telling ourselves (our theories.) When you think about it, if our thoughts in our heads are making us feel bad, the chances of the facts making us feel worse are amazingly slim. There is a much better chance that the facts are kinder than our theories.
When we are willing to test our theories against reality, we often find our risk is beautifully rewarded. In fact, I’m going to do that right now. Wish me luck!
Addendum--I am happy to report that, indeed, in the case above, my theory was wrong and the truth was kinder than my thoughts. Yea!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Great Expectations…not so Great
Maybe Dickens had it wrong. Maybe expectations aren’t so great. Maybe…if we don’t have expectations, we can more easily see the gifts in our life.
Case in point…I recently held a party at my home. A friend told me he wasn’t feeling social, so he likely wouldn’t linger more than ½ an hour. As a result, I did not expect him to stay—but he did. Every once in awhile I saw him and exclaimed, with a big smile on my face “You’re still here!” Because I did not assume he would remain, I was delighted every moment I noted his presence.
Reflecting back on the experience, I realized every person’s attendance was a gift to me. Yet the friend who stood out, was the one I didn’t think would stay. So the next time I throw a party, I’ve decided to have the same delight for every person’s presence, no matter how short, or long, they gift me with their time.
Case in point…I recently held a party at my home. A friend told me he wasn’t feeling social, so he likely wouldn’t linger more than ½ an hour. As a result, I did not expect him to stay—but he did. Every once in awhile I saw him and exclaimed, with a big smile on my face “You’re still here!” Because I did not assume he would remain, I was delighted every moment I noted his presence.
Reflecting back on the experience, I realized every person’s attendance was a gift to me. Yet the friend who stood out, was the one I didn’t think would stay. So the next time I throw a party, I’ve decided to have the same delight for every person’s presence, no matter how short, or long, they gift me with their time.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
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