Honor Thy Mother & Father, But What About Honor Thyself?

 

I just celebrated my 35^th birthday on Monday and I must admit that I had the most fun on my birthday than I can remember having in a long time.  I didn’t just let the day pass with my usual laid back dinner and a movie.  I actually celebrated myself.  I partied with friends the night before, and had fun like a kid with my kid and several other kids whom I love dearly. All in all, I had a ball. 

But even though I’m 35, in some ways I don’t feel like it.  I feel much younger.  I actually feel like I had a second birthday the day my father died, which would make me only 4 years old.  My dad’s death propelled me onto a spiritual journey that presented such a culture shock to me.  It felt like I was learning to swim and The Universe, my instructor, just threw me into 9 feet water and told me to start swimming.  I flailed and panicked.  I cried and resisted.  I damn near drowned at some points.  Yet, without warning, almost like magic, I began to swim.   I kicked both of my legs, and put one arm forward then the other and before I knew it, I was doing laps around this pool of Life.  As it turns out, I learned I’m an endurance swimmer.  It hurts like hell sometimes to endure, but once you get far enough along, you realize just how far you can go.  You also get to perfect your stroke.  One of the ways I learned to perfect my living/swimming stroke was to commit myself to honor.  I may have shared this before, but I’ll share it again.  I’m a bad liar.  I mean a really bad liar.  I always have been.  I have a very visceral reaction whenever I lie.  I sweat profusely, my chest starts to hurt, and my skin breaks out.  And I just don’t have the mental capacity to tell a lie. I can’t actually think of a cohesive, plausible story to make the lie stick.    So to avoid the pain that arises from me lying, I decided to simply stop doing it.  But I didn’t do it like a resolution thing.  I just decided to commit myself to speaking honorably.  If it isn’t the truth, then it’s not honorable, and it doesn’t need to be spoken.   And since it doesn’t need to be spoken, I don’t speak it.  And there you have it.

What I have since discovered on my long distance swim is that speaking honorably involves more than simply refusing to lie.  It also has to do with speaking truthfully about who I am and what I feel.  It has to do with honoring myself instead of martyring myself.   I have had a bit of difficulty speaking up for myself.  In the past, I would hold things in until I exploded.  Then I’d have no problem letting everything out.  But I don’t think it’s healthy to explode.  You run the risk of actually imploding, and I don’t want to implode.  Exhale maybe, but not implode. But that’s what I was risking.  I had a really hard time speaking up and standing in my own power.  I was always so worried about everyone else.  This habit of mine became apparent to me after I decided to sit down and write a book about my experiences growing up with my dad.  I found myself in a complete block.  I knew what I wanted to say, but I was at a complete stand still.  I had a light bulb moment where I realized I was worried about speaking about certain parts of my life because I was worried about how other people would feel about it.  In doing so, I wasn’t speaking my truth, which meant I wasn’t living honorably.  What I’ve come to learn and accept is that my truth is mine and the agreement (or approval) of others is not required.  If I am speaking honorably, then I cannot put my truth on hold for fear of what others may think or how they may feel.  And I do believe that is a very important lesson for a writer to grasp.  But beyond that, I think it’s just an important lesson for an endurance swimmer who plans on swimming in the deep for a long time on this journey of life.