Superpower.

He didn’t understand why we were there and if I’m being honest, neither did I.   These were my ideas, my fears, my “what-if’s”; he was just along for the ride.  This is one of the many things I love about him; he’s always willing and ready to show up when it counts.  I didn’t want us to wake-up some place we didn’t want to be and not know how it happened.  I needed perspective and clarity.  There are a million things that could wrong and if we don’t see it coming, we will go down with it.     

If you had a superpower, what would it be?  I discovered this question once on a blog somewhere in cyberspace and have never forgotten.  I love this question.  I love the idea of discovering and clarifying strength within us, one source more innate and powerful than the rest.  The resource we can count on, our go-to, our strong suite.

What is my superpower? My answer has been and continues to be intuition.  I often feel it before I see it or able to articulate it. I’ve always underestimated the influence intuition has on my ability to make decisions.  My greatest struggle with trusting my gut and listening to what the little voice tells me is proof.  The vagueness that comes with expressing intuition often creates distance and doubt in me before it will serve me.

In Brené Brown’s, Gifts of Imperfection, she defines intuition- “Intuition is not a single way of knowing-it’s our ability to hold space for uncertainty and our willingness to trust the many ways we’ve developed knowledge and insight, including instinct, experience, faith, and reason."

Intuition can help me make decisions, consider the alternative and possibility of what is to come, it has done this for me.  It’s my superpower.  However, there have been times when I believed my intuition was working to save me but instead fed an intrinsic fear and uncertainty in me. 

We went together because I thought it was a potential “us” issue, I wanted protection.  It couldn’t possibly be an issue of mine alone; I was being proactive and responsible for what I sensed coming—before there was a problem.  About six years ago and after six months of therapy, I had my first glimpse at the powerful influence of fear.

I didn’t want to lose touch with real life, I wanted to preserve “us” and not get swallowed up in the addictive success vacuum we were experiencing. I didn’t want to wake up and discover we had lost each other in the process.  I wanted assurance that what we had together would always be stronger than anything we acquired. While I believe these were legitimate concerns, a greater desire to control the outcome and inability to accept the unknown began creating exactly what I didn’t want. 

Brené Brown defines faith as “a place of mystery, where we find the courage to believe in what we cannot see and the strength to let go of our fear of uncertainty.” 

I love Brené’s definition of faith in this context, as I’ve never considered faith in relationship to intuition. Having faith doesn’t mean I turn down or turn off this voice.  Having faith means I let go, it means trusting and believing in all the places, even those I can’t see. With the absence of faith, my intuition, my gut feeling, had become overwhelming, anxiety inducing and driven by fear.    

I struggle with wanting to see the big picture, have all the information, and be in control of the beginning, middle and end.  I want no surprises; there is comfort for me in predictable. I’d never considered the manifestation of fear I was capable of creating all on my own, a disbelief in the choice to let go.

Every New Year brings events and experiences we can count on and predict, along with new, unexpected blessing and challenge. This week, we were asked to create a mantra, a timeout place that allows us to slow down and quiet the distraction, remain mindful. How do you find clarity when you’re all wrapped up in those places? How do you hear yourself, trust yourself and have faith in the process?

Trust what you tell yourself and believe in the choices that exist.

Awake.

It was a normal morning.  He even made them pancakes and for a school day, this is a treat. He hadn’t complained of any discomfort, there were no symptoms of what was to come.

Over these past couple weeks, I’ve become painfully aware of how much practice it takes to experience joy and gratitude in the presence of challenge.  In Brené Brown’s Gifts of Imperfection, she describes numbing as “taking the edge off of pain or stress” and when we try and numb the bad stuff we inherently numb the good stuff too.  This discovery has been life changing for me as I realize I do numbing really well, it’s my safe place. 

I think we all have a numbing toolbox of some sort and for me it often comes in some form of overconsumption.  Sometimes its wine, Facebook/getting lost online, an over committed schedule (being too busy), shopping, sugar, and/or exercise.  Even in the places where it appears I am making good choices (like being busy or exercising) I am still avoiding what is challenging  me most.

I got “that” call last week.  You know, the one you dread, the one you hope to only hear about but never experience.  One week ago, my Wednesday morning began with a phone call from the hospital.  At about 10:45 am, Matt suffered a mini-stroke and I am deeply thankful it has left no permanent damage.  As we continue with testing, looking to learn why, I find the greatest trial for me is staying awake through it all.  Leaning in--to the fear.  Leaning in--to the sacrifice and adjustment our lifestyle may need as a result.  Leaning in--to the difficult conversation around what could have been a warning sign, a wake up call; a look at learning how to live with less stress.  I can’t help but wonder, were there signs or things we should have noticed in the space between the numb places, maybe we could have prevented it from happening or saw it coming?

Recognizing what triggers numbing for me makes me more conscious.  It can be the stress of these unplanned life events, the discovery of bad news.  Or, the more common emotion of feeling overwhelmed, afraid, anxious, exhausted, pressured, uncertain and guilty, this is when I want to turn it off and go to sleep; when I want to numb, when I don’t want to feel.

I’m still navigating through the discovery of what I need for comfort when I feel like I’d rather numb instead. Thinking of when I’ve felt comforted the most and when I didn’t feel alone, it has been the quiet time with coffee and a good book, church and fellowship, lighting candles, writing, sleeping in or taking a nap, alone time with Matt, alone time with friends and/or an easy walk or run.  These are the times I’ve felt the most renewed, the most cared for.    

There is opposition between numbing and gratitude and I’m learning that practicing gratitude and experiencing joy can only happen in place of numbing. I am grateful for what I am learning about myself in this process.  While we cannot always control the outcome, we can influence our reaction to the experience.

They do what we do, not what we say—this keeps running over and over in my mind.  What are we teaching them about priorities?  What are they learning from us based on how we care for ourselves?   They are watching us.   They are learning from us.  We teach them how to respond.