One aspect of my life’s recent twist is that I learned something. This is always a good thing, especially when I learn something about myself.
I’m a pretty introspective guy, I think. I’ve always tried to learn from my errors and missteps, but that only works when you see them. Just as it is hard to fix a problem of which you’re not aware, it’s hard to learn from a mistake you didn’t know you made.
A sudden shock can sometimes bring an old habit into a new light. Well, I’ve had a shock, and I can now see something about which I’ve been wrong.
Friends.
I’m not talking about that old adage, “In times like these, you find out who your real friends are.” That old adage is true enough, and I have found out who my real friends are, but that’s not what I mean.
No, I mean that I didn’t think I had friends who would come to my aid when I needed them. Honestly, I didn’t, and it’s not their fault; it’s mine. It’s my fault for not believing that I’m worthy of such affection. It’s my fault for not seeing my own value—as a friend, as a person—and for feeling that people only liked me because of shared history or because of who I was with, etc.
It’s silly, and a bit daft, but it’s how my mind worked. But through this past week, when I was met with a tsunami of support from friends near and far—support which included offers to talk or to share a whisky or to put me up in a spare room while I retreated from the world for a while—the “silliness” of that old habit became a stark realization.
Growing up, I was what they called “gifted.” My parents, fearful that such knowledge would create difficulties for me due to a burgeoning sense of mental superiority, taught me not to show off, not to brag, not to crow about my accomplishments, and to generally hide my light under a bushel basket. The intention of this teaching (I believe) was to instill in me a sense of humility, and keep me from getting a swelled head. In short, they didn’t want me to grow up to be a dick.
But to my eight-year old brain, this lesson took on another aspect, one that my parents surely did not intend: unworthiness.
I took the lesson of humility and turned it into a lesson of shame. I shouldn’t show off because the things I was able to do weren’t worthy of pride. I shouldn’t talk about my accomplishments because they weren’t all that remarkable. Oh, I got a sense of humility all right but I took the instruction and twisted it until I believed that I wasn’t worthy of anything, not plaudits or kudos.
Not true friendship.
Not love.
How daft is that?
This past week’s outpouring of love, some which came from unexpected quarters, was a sharp shock that showed me just how wrong I’d been all these years. I regret all the times I might have basked in the love of friends, but only stood at the back of the room, watching.
Sometimes, lessons are learned when we’re ready to learn them and not a minute before.
I’m glad I learned this one now.
k
Oddly, I too was labeled “gifted” and my parents taught me the same lessons with similar effect.
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Must have been a generational thing.
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Wouldn’t surprise me.
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Glad that during a tough time you were able to see how truly important you are to so many people.
Happy to call you my friend and not just because we share a love for cumin.
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I love you, good sir. You have been – and, I presume, will continue to be – an inspiration and mentor to me. You are worthy.
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Behind my inner-feral nature – which leaks out on others at time – hides the truth you found… and mirrored back at me.
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Waving to you from the other side of the freeway. Concerned, wanting to know how you are, so glad that you are posting updates. Praying for you.
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i love you , kurt. i feel your pain, and can see that what happened to your life this past week or so, will show, in time, to be a blessing. ive always thought you were totally cool, now i know it. anything you need.. ❤
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See? Like that there. That’s what I’m talking Kshatriyas
Thanks, Steph!
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I understand unworthiness. As I struggle to pull myself through the morass of my making in how my own life has gone this summer, one I will long remember and relish moving away from in time, I acknowledge and appreciate your struggles and as always, wish you only the best. Cheers!
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