I’m often amused when I hear someone say that their reason for being qualified to talk with authority about something is that they ‘have life experience’. To my way of thinking, life experience is what comes along with living! We are all human, and part of being human is that we each experience a range of challenging and painful situations in our lifetime.
As far as I can work out, a successful and fulfilling life isn’t one which has only been blessed with abundance and ease or one which has not been touched by tragedy, heartache or loss. It is a life in which a person has learnt to prosper and grow, finding contentment in the very midst of their pain and having an outlook that is positive and hopeful despite it.
Accepting our humanity is not a negative thing. Struggling to maintain an outward persona of perfection and a false surface joyfulness can be exhausting and can cause us to lose touch with ourselves, and the people around us. It can deny us the richness available in fully experiencing the variety of circumstances and situations that come our way as part of being alive and being human.
By learning to accept these difficulties, and even embracing them, I have come to learn some of life’s most valuable and enduring lessons. Looking back, one that stands out for me is one of the simplest and most profound choices that I made about who I am and how I want to live my life.
During a long time spent as a sole parent after the break up of my first marriage I was very lonely. My family was in another country and my self-esteem had hit rock bottom. I felt isolated and desperate. When I finally did gather the courage to start going out, I would find the darkest corner in which to sit, preferably tucked behind a large piece of furniture or a leafy concealing pot plant.
From my vantage point, I would longingly survey the room, watching people enjoying themselves and listening to the interesting conversations, wishing I could be a part of them. I seemingly lacked the ability to step out and engage with anyone, but longed for someone to approach me and acknowledge my existence.
If there was nowhere to hide, I would gravitate towards the kitchen to ‘help’ the hostess. This allowed me to place a tray of food between me and any other guest and it limited any interaction to a short exchange focused around whether or not they wanted something to eat or drink. I always looked relaxed and even happy. I was careful not to let anyone know how lonely and miserable I really felt.
At the end of the party I would be one of the last to leave, having found my way back to the kitchen, eager to help with the cleanup and the dishes. I thought that by ‘making myself useful’ I would be sure to get invited back, not realising that I had been asked there in the first place because someone already liked me and enjoyed my company.
Parties came and went, and with them my opportunity to mix with other people, some of whom I was even beginning to feel quite comfortable around. Still I hid, afraid of revealing myself, afraid of rejection, or worse still, indifference. I longed to break free. I was trapped in a prison of my own making. Not only did I feel lonely, I felt lost and very alone.
Gradually I came to realise that my attitude was what was holding me back and making me unhappy, not my circumstances. It was a huge revelation and it was life-changing. I had avidly read self-help books and attended self-development courses and seminars and they must have had some influence on my way of thinking.
I had also begun meeting other strong, gutsy women in my small community whom I admired for the way they lived their lives and for who they were in themselves. Unbeknown to them, they became my mentors. I reckoned if they could live their lives in a positive way then I could too. If they could be content to be who they truly were, then so could I.
I have no idea what the turning point was, but I can clearly remember that one day I made a very conscious decision to live my life with an attitude of love. By love I didn’t necessarily mean a relationship or intimacy. What it meant to me was that I would now stop hiding. I would be open to life, to all of its vagaries and ups and downs, and to the people and experiences that came across my path.
Most of all, I would learn to accept and love myself just as I was at that very moment. I would learn to embrace life instead of running away from it. And in the most amazing ways imaginable, life embraced me back.
By releasing the negative thoughts and beliefs that surrounded me and held me back, I opened the door to self-acceptance. I was able to replace the hateful self-messages with kinder, more nurturing and life-affirming thoughts and the growth I had been seeking began to happen.
As I learnt to move at ease in the world as I really am I came to ‘fit my skin’ and ceased to fight against my imagined failings. True self-love allowed me to grow and develop – not because I felt I was no good and that I had to be better - but because I stopped judging and pushing myself and allowed the growth to happen naturally.
I came to see that we can’t undo the hard experiences of life – but we can control our response to them. We can’t go back and undo the past, but we can nurture ourselves in the now and go on into the future with a quiet courage and determination to live our life as fully as possible.
© Copyright: Marian Kerr, Contemplate Life Coaching, 2007. All Rights Reserved
