It usually indicates an advanced level of honesty and intelligence." ~Anne Wilson Schaef
Well it’s official. 2012 is officially here. Now
I’m not sure if the predictions are correct and this will be the end of
the world as we know it (whether it happens physically or spiritually),
but I do know that with a new year comes the hope for new things, a
renewed sense of motivation, and above all else, the resolutions. Oh yes
. . . the resolutions. Where we resolve to do the things we’ve never even tried
to do before, or we vow to stop all of our bad habits, and become our
bigger, better, brighter selves. I haven’t personally made a New Years
resolution since I was a teenager. However, I love the way the Universe
works. It has a wonderful way of
bringing the very things we need to work on to our attention. So while I
didn’t exactly create a resolution, I did realize that there was
something I need to work on.
Not sure how you spent your New Year’s. But I spent mine quietly and contemplatively. I
had a scheduled surgery that I can’t say I was really worried about,
but I did have some concerns. I was told it was a “minimally invasive”
surgery. However, my logic is anytime you’re being cut open and put
under anesthesia, you are not being invaded minimally. Thankfully,
the procedure was successful and I am resting at home. But as I said,
this experience made me realize that there was indeed something I need
to work on. This experience has
brought a bad habit of mine to my attention; and that thing is that I
need to do a better job of asking for help.
I
became aware that perhaps I might have a problem asking for help when I
realized that I hadn’t specifically asked for help from anyone prior to
my surgery. I knew I would need some help recuperating, but I never
asked anyone. If I relied on anyone for help, it would probably be my best friend and god sis. And
to be honest, I actually didn’t want to rely on either. I didn't want
to rely on my bestie because she’s been dealing with her mom’s
hospitalization for about a month. I didn’t want to feel like I was just
another burden on her. I didn’t want to rely on my god sis because
she’s young and on her winter break from school and I felt as if I was
impeding her fun downtime process. Then
I just realized those were the excuses I was using so that I wouldn’t
have to feel a certain way about asking for help because I hate that
feeling. I hate the feeling I feel when I have to sit down and ask
another human being for help. I feel impotent and weak--as if I'm
incapable. And the reality is this time around, I really was incapable
because all I could do after my surgery was lay down and sleep. So I
just realized that the ugly truth is that I hate asking for help because
I hate the way it makes me feel.
Some of it is just who I am. I’m an introvert and an independent soul. I suppose being an only child only enforced the independent streak. I just naturally do things alone. Some of it has been
ingrained in me since I was a youngster. My father constantly instilled
in me that I need to have my own, stand on my own, be self sufficient,
not rely on others. And while I
understand what he was trying to accomplish, and even appreciate his
effort, I do wish the conditioning that has taken place had leveled off
many moons ago. I recognize now
that no man is an island. And no matter how wonderful the island may be,
it still needs more than a few inhabitants.
But Je'Niece why do you find the feeling of asking for help so difficult?
My god sis asked me this when instead of asking her to bring me a
bottle of water, I decided to waddle over to the water case myself and
struggle to bend down to grab a bottle. Clearly I must have looked ridiculous--seeing as how I’d just been cut on my abdomen, therefore unable to bend. I
was beyond struggling. I was in pain, yet instead of calling a flag on
the play, I just kept trying to maneuver and re-maneuver myself--of
course to no avail. But did I
give up? Never! I was caught, and not even red handed because my body
was lame and unable to allow me to get away with the booty. After she
had a deservingly hearty laugh at my expense, she asked, “So you’d
rather struggle than ask me for help?” Wow . . . what a hummdinger of a
question. And sadly, the honest answer was yes. As
ridiculous as that sounds, it’s the truth. I would in most instances
rather sink all on my own than have to ask another person for help and
as I write these words, I recognize how trivial and silly that is.
I’m
still not really sure if I feel weak for having to ask for help, or if I
just want to prove to myself that I’m a big girl who can do it all by
myself. Either way, I need to get over myself and open my mouth. As the
saying goes, “Closed mouths don’t get fed.” There is no way that I can
make it in this world all by myself. I
know that even in the moments that I have felt alone, I really wasn’t
operating alone. I did this to myself after my dad's passing. I was in
pain, struggling to breathe, yet I didn't open my mouth and say a word.
I struggled for air until I almost gave up my ghost and I thought I'd
learned my lesson then. I guess I gained the knowledge, but I know
enough to know that the knowledge alone is not enough. Now is the time
for me to prove that I do indeed know this by operating in a higher
capacity. As Oprah reminds us, Maya Angelou has wisely said, “When you
know better, you do better.” It’s
time for me to let go of foolish pride and ego and remember that
weakness doesn’t lie in asking for help, it lies in the refusal. If I plan to get anywhere in this life I live, I had better start opening my mouth and wisely and boldly asking for help.
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