“which seems strange given that my actions do not reflect this at all…my actions mirror a reflection of constant desire for self improvement, learning, development, and trying…trying…trying…”

Here’s a thought. A person’s actions, more often than not, act as a ’spy to the heart’ - they tell us what someone’s real intentions, real values are. And frequently we’re not aware of these things ourselves.

It’s a hard thing to accept - but, nonetheless, in my experience, a truth about human beings - that what happens outside of our normal consciousness has more bearing on what we do than what we are aware of thinking or feeling. Of course, it’s not always the actions themselves that reveal this, but the way we do them: if someone is repeatedly late for work, for instance, it may be that some part of him is thwarting or sabotaging the daily routine because it doesn’t feel this is what he should be doing with his life. Reluctance, and resistance, are often of this kind.

What I hear in your words is in some ways the opposite of what usually happens. Outside of consciousness, you have embraced a desire to change, transform, develop - and this has even translated into action. But consciousness - as it always does - drags behind the events.

One of the great lessons of life, I’ve found, is to watch what our actions can tell us about what is really important to us, and thus who we really are, and to align oneself consciously with that. We waste our lives in thinking, as if thinking was important. Often it is beside the point, and most of the time it reveals not who we are but who we think we ought to be.

James,
I think this is very important for me to understand, actually, and also reminds me of a quote I heard from somewhere that it is much harder to lie with our actions than with our words.

I can so easily take an action that is heart-led and then spend some time stewing around in it and talk myself right out of it, on some level knowing all the while the action itself was the “right” decision in the first place. It’s usually something resembling guilt or unworthiness that does a good job of talking me into and out of my actions.

It sounds so simple…to watch my actions…and yet it is so intensely difficult for me…so much easier to get mixed up in the soup of my thoughts and emotions…and worse yet, “believe” them.

It really helps me a lot to be reminded so (thank you)

When one engages in repetitive behaviour it is, of course, because we secretly ENJOY it.
Some of us actually enjoy giving ourselves a hard time!

I find that it’s more effective to tell myself, “I will be kind to myself” than to tell myself, “I won’t be unkind to myself.”

I find auto-suggestion helps e.g. I might repeat to myself several times, “I am a wonderful human being.”

Rob,
ouch…that stings…so there must be some truth in it for me…

i think this understanding that to look at my faults with an eye for self improvement rather than an eye for criticism has really helped a lot, which is something very similar to what you are suggesting…

I’m at risk of possibly agreeing with James here (I think it has happened before, James!) but with a different explanation.

I’ve been brooding on the notion of “The sacred wound” which crops up in a book I’m reading by Bill Plotkin, though it occurs of course also in various myths. Rather than quote Bill at any length, I’ll quote his quote from Rumi:

“Wherever there is a ruin, there is hope for treasure—why do you not seek for treasure in the wasted heart?”

The way I would personally put it is more pragmatic. Whenever I’ve thought about it, I’ve been trying to fix my non-conforming psyche, which seems to make me limp in certain situations, where others are able to leap, run and dance. Now it occurs to me that life is too short—in particular, what’s left of it is too short—to try and change, to heal the wound, to learn to leap, run and dance like those others.

Why don’t I accept that my “sacred wound”, as Plotkin calls it, is something given, which helps define my uniqueness? Why don’t I stop seeing it as a defect but an interesting positioning on the spectrum of normality, which expands me in the dimension of advantage more than it diminishes me in the dimension of disadvantage?

Vincent,
What I am learning is that the complex landscape of “me” is made up of a lot of things..I am not all one way or another, and even in a given day I am many different parts of myself. I am less apt these days to be trying so hard to force my will to eliminate the parts I don’t like but rather to be more welcoming of it all and have a better understanding of how it does expand me rather than diminish me. To me, the acceptance of all of me IS the leaping, running and dancing.

This brings to mind portions of “The Guest House” also by Rumi,

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

I didn’t mean for my words to sting. In my opinion just about everyone has a masochistic side. I know I have.

Secondly although we should learn from our mistakes it’s perhaps even more important to acknowledge our strengths.

You have many strengths Serenity.

Lots of hugs.

Rob,
I think you’re right that sometimes it is easier to center in my mistakes and beat myself over them, and ignore or deny that I have any strengths at all. I think it is important to look at this habit with the most honesty I can possibly muster…and sometimes that honesty can sting. When the sting comes from a place of truth and sincerity, I think it is very constructive to feel the discomfort and learn what it is it can teach me.

Loads of hugs back to you too