I truly enjoyed this. I wrote a long response and when I hit post I somehow got sucked into a vortex of subscribing and setting up A profile only to come back to this empty box. Lol such is life thank God that it’s not a problem since I’m rarely short of words. What I wanted to tell you earlier was that your perspective is refreshing. I have always had an interest in storytelling In general since I heard about it as an art form - truly the performance the energy of someone on a stage with the talking stick and getting to have a chance to tell their story their way, uninterrupted, not having to use their energy to defend or pretend - they get to just have the floor and release the energy of an experience and what it was like to be in there and we get to be there in the trenches with them. I love the vulnerability and authenticity that can come up when someone tells a story. I am also fascinated with the ideas of accepting our mistakes and cracks and the healing part being what makes it even that more beautiful. I read a lot about storytelling alchemy and as a lifelong writer who’s been writing pages and pages and thousands of words in journals and documents and other places - it feels like realizing you can truly not only be the author of your present and future. Writing your own story - but also having the capabilities and the magic wand to rewrite your past to whatever we want or need it to be. We can give ourselves experiences and things never gotten- we can rewrite the traumas, the moments, the apologies we never received and needed. We have the power whether in our minds or on our paper to rewrite the past and exist from the present with a different lighter past than was once before so burdensome. Whooo think I may have gotten to existential there but anyway. Thanks for making me think tonight ! 🤓 thanks for sharing the gift of your perspective !
Many of us, with family and/or religious trauma have HAD TO learn to alchemize our anger and pain to go on. I did it as much for my kids as for myself. “Maladaptive Mommy” wasn’t going to help anyone. lol. I decided long ago I needed a new lens with which to see the world. I have two mountains I will die on: 1) Love wins and 2) Peace on Earth. If everything that happens to and around me is run through those filters? My responses are very different and feel more like the ME I want to be in the world. Thank you for sharing your thoughts!
Dear Michael, this is so beautiful. Hank you for sharing these stories here.
I’ve learned admitting mistakes/brokenness/failure is LIBERATING!
My son and I used to have a thing we did when he was a teenager and living at home. When we would leave the house, I would lock the door behind us. Which, unfortunately, too often, meant I would drop the keys in the bottom of what was commonly called a “bucket purse” or “hobo bag”… aka “bottomless abyss”.
SO upon the return home I would be standing at the door, often in the freezing cold, groping in the abyss for my keys. To which, ALWAYS my son would say, “Hmmm…what’s that I smell? Is it…FAILURE? Mom, you’re failing. Faaaa…iling. Faily McFailerson. Lalala FAILING!” The jibes would continue until the keys were found door was unlocked.
We would laugh like hyenas and then, in the warmth of the house, he would reply, “Wow mom. Could’ve froze to death out there on that stoop. Way to go.” To which I would laugh and tell him “You’re grounded. FOR-E-VER.”
Then, a few years later, I had a conversation with a client who had a difficult time with perfectionism. I told him the story about “Faily McFailerson” and how liberating I found it was to ADMIT (out loud) failure. I began doing that in my friendships and in my practice and in my marriage and in my church career as a leader. I double-dog-dared him to try it for himself. “Just whenever you notice you’ve done something wrong. Maybe you misplace a tool in the garage or forget to get gas before work. Just try it. Say it out loud. “Way to go Faily McFailerson…” or sing a little failure tune to Row Row Your Boat…” Nobody’s around. Just you admitting, out loud, in your garage, “I failed!” Then come back and let me know how that feels for you…”
Do you know what happened? It made him laugh at himself. Know what else it did? It gave him the ability to share with his wife his failure and SHE laughed with him. Then told him of her horrific casserole disaster that he never knew about because she cooked another one before he got home from work.
It gave others in the family the ability to fail and admit it. It took the pressure off. It even allowed laughter…(always THEM laughing at themselves, not others laughing or shaming them). FREEDOM! Giving ourselves freedom to fail also gives us permission to whoop and holler LOUDLY when we succeed.
I truly enjoyed this. I wrote a long response and when I hit post I somehow got sucked into a vortex of subscribing and setting up A profile only to come back to this empty box. Lol such is life thank God that it’s not a problem since I’m rarely short of words. What I wanted to tell you earlier was that your perspective is refreshing. I have always had an interest in storytelling In general since I heard about it as an art form - truly the performance the energy of someone on a stage with the talking stick and getting to have a chance to tell their story their way, uninterrupted, not having to use their energy to defend or pretend - they get to just have the floor and release the energy of an experience and what it was like to be in there and we get to be there in the trenches with them. I love the vulnerability and authenticity that can come up when someone tells a story. I am also fascinated with the ideas of accepting our mistakes and cracks and the healing part being what makes it even that more beautiful. I read a lot about storytelling alchemy and as a lifelong writer who’s been writing pages and pages and thousands of words in journals and documents and other places - it feels like realizing you can truly not only be the author of your present and future. Writing your own story - but also having the capabilities and the magic wand to rewrite your past to whatever we want or need it to be. We can give ourselves experiences and things never gotten- we can rewrite the traumas, the moments, the apologies we never received and needed. We have the power whether in our minds or on our paper to rewrite the past and exist from the present with a different lighter past than was once before so burdensome. Whooo think I may have gotten to existential there but anyway. Thanks for making me think tonight ! 🤓 thanks for sharing the gift of your perspective !
Many of us, with family and/or religious trauma have HAD TO learn to alchemize our anger and pain to go on. I did it as much for my kids as for myself. “Maladaptive Mommy” wasn’t going to help anyone. lol. I decided long ago I needed a new lens with which to see the world. I have two mountains I will die on: 1) Love wins and 2) Peace on Earth. If everything that happens to and around me is run through those filters? My responses are very different and feel more like the ME I want to be in the world. Thank you for sharing your thoughts!
Dear Michael, this is so beautiful. Hank you for sharing these stories here.
I’ve learned admitting mistakes/brokenness/failure is LIBERATING!
My son and I used to have a thing we did when he was a teenager and living at home. When we would leave the house, I would lock the door behind us. Which, unfortunately, too often, meant I would drop the keys in the bottom of what was commonly called a “bucket purse” or “hobo bag”… aka “bottomless abyss”.
SO upon the return home I would be standing at the door, often in the freezing cold, groping in the abyss for my keys. To which, ALWAYS my son would say, “Hmmm…what’s that I smell? Is it…FAILURE? Mom, you’re failing. Faaaa…iling. Faily McFailerson. Lalala FAILING!” The jibes would continue until the keys were found door was unlocked.
We would laugh like hyenas and then, in the warmth of the house, he would reply, “Wow mom. Could’ve froze to death out there on that stoop. Way to go.” To which I would laugh and tell him “You’re grounded. FOR-E-VER.”
Then, a few years later, I had a conversation with a client who had a difficult time with perfectionism. I told him the story about “Faily McFailerson” and how liberating I found it was to ADMIT (out loud) failure. I began doing that in my friendships and in my practice and in my marriage and in my church career as a leader. I double-dog-dared him to try it for himself. “Just whenever you notice you’ve done something wrong. Maybe you misplace a tool in the garage or forget to get gas before work. Just try it. Say it out loud. “Way to go Faily McFailerson…” or sing a little failure tune to Row Row Your Boat…” Nobody’s around. Just you admitting, out loud, in your garage, “I failed!” Then come back and let me know how that feels for you…”
Do you know what happened? It made him laugh at himself. Know what else it did? It gave him the ability to share with his wife his failure and SHE laughed with him. Then told him of her horrific casserole disaster that he never knew about because she cooked another one before he got home from work.
It gave others in the family the ability to fail and admit it. It took the pressure off. It even allowed laughter…(always THEM laughing at themselves, not others laughing or shaming them). FREEDOM! Giving ourselves freedom to fail also gives us permission to whoop and holler LOUDLY when we succeed.
Lessons from a sarcastic teenager. How I love it!
This is beautiful Paula! Thank you for your reflection!