Last month I blogged about going to court with a friend of mine in the same city where my dad was incarcerated when I was a teenager and about how the experience–um–brought up a lot of stuff for me. Well, that day my friend simply entered a plea–not guilty–with respect to a minor traffic violation, but today was their actual hearing. So this morning my friend and I hopped in their car and headed back toward Forrest City, Arkansas. And whereas my friend was prepared to offer a well-thought-out and reasoned defense, their charges were dropped when the officer who issued their ticket didn’t show up. It was that simple.
We were in and out of the courtroom in less than an hour.
Now I’m back home from the whole affair and ready to go to bed. It’s been a long day. Weird how riding in a car can take it out of you. Still, it’s been a good day. My friend and I had wonderful conversation there and back. I honestly don’t remember the last time I laughed so much. God, that felt good. Plus, we had a delightful lunch–burgers and fries. Yum. The perfect treat to celebrate my friend’s “victory by default,” as they called it.
In addition to road trips being tiring, here’s something else that’s weird–emotions. On our last trip, I was all nervous and jittery. Despite the fact that the situation had nothing to do with me (not my circus, not my monkeys), I was all worked up about the place, the circumstances, and the conflict. I know it’s a result of things that happened in my childhood, but I just don’t do well with authority figures, courtrooms, or the sound of banging gavels. But here’s the weird part–none of that was a problem today. Like, at all. Both on the way down there and while in the courtroom, I kept thinking that I “should be” all a-twitter. Because I always am in these situations. But I wasn’t.
This is something I’ve noticed a few times lately, that things that used to bother me bother me less now or not at all. For example, recently someone I liked blew me off (and not in the good way). And sure it hurt, but it really wasn’t a big deal, not like it usually is. Shortly after that, I got into a conversation about money, a subject that normally makes my butthole pucker, but this time it didn’t; it was just like talking about the weather. Then after that I ran into someone who typically makes my blood boil, but this time my temperature stayed the same. Then there was the thing today–no big reaction.
I’m assuming the fact that my emotions have “down-shifted” is the result of my working through their underlying causes, digging through my childhood and acknowledging feelings I’ve been ignoring for decades. Holy shit, that was overwhelming. That was absolutely terrifying. (My emotions in response: “Thank you for finally admitting it! We’ll be quiet now.”) Plus, there’s a natural confidence that comes when you work to establish good boundaries, speak your truth, own your own shit, and accept all parts of yourself. In my experience, you walk taller. Even when things are at their worst, you think, I can handle this.
Consequently, life gets easier.
All of this is good, of course, not being as afraid and whatever. That being said, it’s also disorienting, and I’d like to be clear that it’s REALLY TEMPTING for me to slip back into familiar emotional habits and patterns. Because it would be much more comfortable, at least much more familiar, for me to worry about money, rant about whomever and whatever, or get nervous in a courtroom. After all, I have vast experience with these things and have come to identify myself with them.
Byron Katie says this is the hardest part about change–we have to give up our identities. It’s the death of the ego, she says, that part of us that constantly identifies, that part of us that thinks, I am the one who’s terrified, I am the one who’s afraid of finances, I am the one who’s nervous in courtrooms. But what if you’re none of those things? What if the real you is something different altogether? That’s the disorienting part about giving up beliefs and response patterns you’ve held for decades, thinking, Well shit, if I’m not the one who’s terrified, then who am I?
Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)
"
Being scared isn’t always an invitation to run away. More often than not, it’s an invitation to grow a pair and run toward.
"