What if a woman trusted her own tears enough to listen to them,
make real changes in her individual schedule….
What if she trusted her anger, her irritation, her illness, even her depression,
as signs that her own life was calling to her?
Judith Duerk, Circle of Stones, Woman’s Journey to Herself

What would happen if I trusted myself? What would happen in my life if I even liked myself? How much would I change? Would I be so hard on myself? Would I continue to take the blame for everything that goes wrong in the world, in my partner’s world, in my family’s world or even in my work world? Would I finally be at peace?

I try to listen to my body but I am not always successful. In fact, I am more unsuccessful than not. Growing up not trusting myself, not trusting my body or even what my head and heart were telling me, has led to the great big bowl of mess I am right now. It is hard to trust myself let alone anyone else.

But, I must try. Little by little I inch forward on the trust spectrum. I try not to look at how far I must go in my lifetime, only how much further I need to go right now, in this moment, in this day. I am learning that when I am upset by a seemingly meaningless event or comment I need to check in with myself and find out why that incident rattle me so badly. I may not learn anything new but in checking in I am learning to trust myself when something sets off the alarms in my head.

The other day at work I tried to transfer a call to three different people, anyone of who could help the person better than I could. The last attempt resulted in me arguing with the person on the other end of the phone and I had to help the person who called anyway and against my will, “because its’ your job” is what I was told. I was in tears. And it is my job to help customers to the best of my ability.

I reacted badly to the whole situation. I checked in with myself, asking, “Why did I get so upset about such a minor thing? Why was I reduced to tears?” I had no answer at that moment – something about being so wrung out that I would not have been able to hear God even if He came and stood in front of me.

Now, a day or so later, I know it has something to do with my male parental unit and how I was treated by him. I still don’t know what specifically and I may never know, but at least now I know a source and I am learning to trust myself that when I react badly to a mundane situation, something is going on. And until I am willing to expose that wound to the healing breath of God I will be forever trapped in my own misery. What if I trusted my bad reactions to normal problems signaled a need for healing? What if I trusted God with that healing?



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