Today’s thoughts–

1. On live videos

Last weekend, in order to celebrate two full years of daily blogging, I did a live video on Facebook in which I shared an essay I wrote a couple years ago called Letting Go of the Big House. I wrote it in order to help me process letting go of most of my material possessions. And whereas normally when I do a live video I share it in my blog the next day, this time I didn’t. For whatever reason, it didn’t seem like the time. So I’m sharing it now for anyone who’s interested and may have missed it. As my phone died while I was reading the last paragraph of the essay and I had to start over, it’s broken up into two videos. The first one is 19 minutes, and the second one is five. Also, for anyone interested in previous live videos and other “story time” essays, click here.

2. On emotions

Today I’ve been awash with emotions. In this moment I feel fine, but five minutes ago I was crying. This I’m sure is the direct result of my recently taking a good, hard look at the traumas in my life and the beliefs, emotions, thoughts, and behaviors of mine that have grown out of those traumas. I’ve poked the bear. And whereas my first reaction to feeling, say, sad, nervous, afraid, and alone is to reach for a pack of cigarettes or a piece of chocolate cake, I’ve been reminding myself today that this is WHY I’ve poked the bear–in order to actually feel the emotions that I’ve consistently shoved down for, oh, thirty fucking years. So this is good news. (Knock, knock.) They’re here. Granted, it’s not fun, sitting with the uncomfortable. But I know I’m strong enough to handle whatever shows up. There’s plenty of room here. I’m tired of running away from myself.

By the way–

Running away from yourself isn’t possible.

3. On pet peeves

Last night I went out for drinks and live music with my friends Justin, Ashley, and Joseph. It was lovely. That being said, when I paid my ticket with cash, the waitress did two things that absolutely piss me off every time they happen. I’ve probably mentioned them before. First, she asked, “Do you want your change?” Um, it’s MY CHANGE. If I want to leave a tip, I will, but don’t assume anything. Granted, I’ve never worked as a server, but I feel like a better way to handle situations like this would be to say, “I’ll be right back with your change.” Then if I don’t want it, I can say so. Sure, keep that six dollars on a thirteen-dollar tab. You’re worth it.

The second thing she did–and this is the one that always sends me into orbit–was to bring me incorrect change. That is, she owed me $6.38, and she brought back $6.00. Um, bitch, where’s my 38 cents?! Now, I know that for a lot of people this isn’t a big deal, since they’d leave it as a tip anyway. But there was a clear assumption on the waitress’s part that that money belonged to her or that, for some reason, I wouldn’t want it. Either way, she took the power of what should have been my choice (it was MY MONEY) away from me.

I can’t tell you the number of times this same situation has happened in the past. Always at restaurants. Seriously, what the hell? Could any other business get away with skimming off the top when giving customers their change, something that rightfully belongs to them? No. When I had my dance studio, I would have been run out of town if every time someone gave me a twenty-dollar bill for a ten-dollar dance class I gave them back a five. Because let’s not mince words–that’s stealing.

Anyway, I’ve historically handled this situation in a number of different ways. I’ve confronted waiters and waitresses directly, talked to their managers, and written letters to owners. Believe it or not, I’ve even let it go and said nothing. Last night I tried a new strategy–I left a note on my bill that simply explained what was true for me. “I didn’t leave a tip because you didn’t give me all of my change.” More and more, it’s important to me to be able to–in the moment–express my truth clearly and succinctly. Because I could have made excuses for her, but my truth was (and is) that I was pissed off. She’d crossed a line. And the only way for me to honor myself (that is, to not do any further harm to myself) was to say something.

4. On honoring yourself

Hang on. I’m not done with this topic. I know I’m on a soapbox, but I think it’s important. Recently I was reminded that The Divine (as in, life, God, or the universe, not Bette Midler) works in paradox. (Bette Midler works in sequins.) In other words, what’s small is big, and what seems insignificant is the most significant. This truth, applied to The Great Incorrect Change Incident of 2019, means that my pet peeve, whereas seemingly just a little irritation, like a chigger bite, is actually a big deal and–for me–holds the key to some type of healing or growth.

I’ll try to explain.

A few weeks ago I heard about something called fractal psychotherapy, an idea promoted by David Burns, one of the big names in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. I’ve only listened to one podcast about the theory, but as I understand it, it proposes that you can take one little seemingly small incident–an argument in a relationship, for example–and that small incident will be representative of all the problems in that relationship. Like how any piece of a hologram contains within it all the information for the entire hologram. I’ve said before that our emotions are here to help us, to communicate with us, to let us know when something is right or wrong. In last night’s situation, my emotions let me know that a boundary had been crossed. So fractal psychotherapy would say that although it’s “just a pet peeve of mine,” the issue of boundaries and speaking my truth is an-across-the-board thing for me. Again, you can’t run away from yourself.

You take yourself everywhere you go.

Personally, I’m becoming clearer and clearer about what my issues are. I think life is constantly trying to alert us to them. Not to rub our faces in them–like, look, you can’t speak up for yourself, you wuss–but so we can empower ourselves and stop having those issues. That’s what I think it all boils down to–self-empowerment. I said earlier that the waitress took my power of choice away from me, and I imagine we’ve all had this happen to us in small or large ways throughout our lives. I’m talking about being a victim. But to be clear, I’m not talking about staying a victim. I’m talking about, even if it starts with confronting a waitress, listening to your emotions, finding and using your voice, and taking your power back.