In my dream last night, I received the āBest Goddessā award. Go ahead. Laugh. That title is reserved for celebrities, rock stars and beautiful women in flowing white gowns (meditating next to crystal blue waters with dolphins and diamonds.) I donāt fit.
But in the dream, I was rather excited (and embarrassed) that Iād been in the running with more traditionally goddessy women. Somehow I also knew that, whoa, men had voted, too!
I quickly surmised that it must be an all-around-kinda-goddess. A good cherub. Making a contribution. Trying her best. Clearly the world had changed its definition of a diety! And some part of me AGREED. Iād won. I was goddess material.
Then I woke up.
āBest Goddess?ā I think, as I run my fingers through my matted, dirty hair. It reminds me of those little plastic trophies, āBest Sisterā or ā#1 Mom.ā
But who cares, I won! In the dream, Iād felt humbled and happy. And now, sitting there in my very ugly t-shirt, grey sweatpants, bad breath and boobs hanging low, it makes me smile! Iāve arrived. Iāve awarded myself this goofy victory!
There was no voluptuous body or kick-ass looks, lips or limbs. It was just me. The award meant I was fully seen and appreciated. As is. Success.
Then I tell my husband.
He was just crawling out of bed, in all his sleepy glory. Tighty whities. A Breathe-Right strip lifting off his nose. Both of us pale and pasty.
āI won the Best Goddess award in my dream,ā I say with a smile and an eye-roll.
Long.
Silence.
After yawning and wiping his crusty eyes, he finally says, āWell, thatās different.ā
Cue. Screeching. Brakes.
My previous thrill quickly begins to slip. After more silence, I get up and go to the bathroom so I donāt spurt out any BS. My mind has armored up so fast, itās frightening. Iām already at war.
For many years, Iāve asked (yelled, begged) my hubby for more compliments. Iām embarrassed to admit it. I get praise from friends, family, clients, even strangers at workshops. But since Bill sees me at my absolute worst, and knows me at my best, compliments from him mean MORE.
In the time it takes me to put the toilet seat down and sit, my BS is ready to FIRE AT BILL. My mind is pissed, blaming him and silently ranting, āThis would have been a lovely opportunity to compliment me. FOR ONCE. I know I donāt look like a goddess, but couldnāt you do me the favor of saying something nice!? Something affirming? Anything??ā Note: defensive sarcasm is always a sign of hidden BS.
So letās Byron Katie the crap out of this stinky scenario.
Katieās āJudge Your Neighborā worksheet has four questions to ask ourselves, and the all intriguing āturn-around.ā (Check out “The Work” here andĀ download the worksheet here.)
- Is it true? (Yes or no. If no, move to 3.)
- Can you absolutely know that it’s true? (Yes or no.)
- How do you react, what happens, when you believe that thought
- Who would you be without the thought? āØ
So I take the first painful belief, āBill never compliments meā and ask, Is it true?āØāØWell, um, (scramble, scramble, argh, sassafrassa…) No. It isnāt totally true. He doesnāt compliment me in the ways I would like. But his actions are very complimentary – deep demonstrations of his love and care.
But-but-but. I donāt want to let go of this! He should change! I NEED COMPLIMENTS! How hard is THAT!?
The ego mind likes to fight, to be right and to PROVE that our thoughts, painful as they might be, are CORRECT, and itās the other person who should change their behavior! Then the pressure is off of us to change our thoughts. Poor, innocent us.
āØAs I sit on my porcelain thrown, another old belief hits the fan: āHe doesnāt see and appreciate my worth. He doesnāt think Ā Iām valuable! He should prove to me that Iāve got a little bit of goddess in me!?ā
So my old story, of feeling humiliated and not-enough, because of my dwarfism, has hit the leader-board. āBill should know my history! He should treat me with tenderness so I donāt have to hurt over this!ā
Wow, tall order. Iām shoulding all over him, when in fact, Iām not honoring my old story OR treating myself with tenderness so I don’t have to hurt. When I insist that HE do it, we both end up in the loo.
Hopeless.
Still, my mind continues itās rioting… āOf all people, Bill should know my old insecurities!ā Wait. I should know. āØAnother turnaround is, āI should know his old insecurities.ā Heās told me many times that he feels completely cornered when I come at him, diarrhea of the mouth, INSISTING that he do things MY WAY.
The third question is: How do I react when I believe the thought, āBill should compliment me,ā and he doesnāt do it? I get insulted, hurt and angry. I either corner him with a sh*t ton of words or I shut. him. out.
Oh My Goddess. Not very complimentary.
The forth question is: Who would I be without the thought, āHe should compliment meā? (When youāre examining your own BS, close your eyes on this question and imagine the other personās face.) Well, without my BS Iād just be real and Iād express my vulnerability, without judging him or me. Iād appreciate my devoted Einstein-haired-hubby. Iād love him for all that he is. Iād realize he has complimented me with twenty years of support, marriage, family, love.
Hereās another turnaround. āIām hurt and angry at myself because I donāt compliment me.ā True. I didnāt even believe in my dream award. āI donāt see and appreciate my worth. I should prove to myself that Iāve got a little bit of goddess in me.ā I canāt expect Bill to do what I cannot do.
On my good days, when I feel worthy, I donāt demand it from others. I can give it freely. Easily. To myself and them.
āUncomfortable feelings are clear reminders that we’ve attached to something that may not be true for us. They are gifts that let us know it’s time to identify the stressful thoughts.ā ~Byron Katie
If you find yourself throwing an inner or outer tantrum over what someone else didnāt do, or should do, try the four questions and the turnaround. There’s always something untrue in ourĀ own thinking and there’s more we can do for ourselves to find freedom and peace.
If you give a goddess an award, that she doesnāt feel she deserves, look at the cascade of negative thoughts that errupt! I projected the crap onto Bill, and then realized it was in me. It turned into an opportunity to bless the BS. What we need to flush, is up to us.
Anotherās opinion can only hurt or help when we believe itās true. We have the choice to walk down the runway of our soul, in all its spangly splendor, still loving our humble humanness.
Our glory be to goddess, in the highest and hottest. No need to be modest. (Short doesnāt mean squat-ess.)
With consistent self-support, we can turn dung into divine. Doesnāt cost a dime. (Goddesses like to rhyme.)
So go grab your own godling award. I’ll joyfully join you in a heart feltĀ standing-O.
With lotsa love, lights, and applause,