As the Paradigm Shifts | Why I’m still a poopy-head sometimes

||| AS THE PARADIGM SHIFTS by ROSIE KUHN |||

The pitter-patter of rain on my roof woke me earlier than usual this morning. I turned up the thermostat, climbed back into bed, and prayed I’d fall back asleep.

Before slumber returned, familiar thoughts floated in—my old story of feeling alone, without family nearby. It’s part of my spiel.

These days, so many podcasts and blogs remind us that we should be grateful, generous, loving, kind, and forgiving. Sometimes I just can’t get there. Sometimes, I slide back into a whiny, lonely, disappointed, resentful, pathetic poopy-head.

Practicing Something Different

A while back, I wanted to forgive someone I believed had hurt me. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So, I asked myself a question that I now return to often: What do I get by choosing to remain unforgiving?

The answer came quickly: I get to stay righteous and resentful. I get to marinate in the attitude of “I Know Better.” (And let’s be honest—who doesn’t secretly love that?)

But then came the follow-up: “Is this really how I want to live—in righteous indignation and resentment?” Secretly, yes I do!!!

However, the honest answer is, “Nope! I don’t want to live this way. It’s too painful

Though I like the sense of confidence that comes with my belief in my all-knowing righteousness, it limits completely my ability to experience true loving, engaged-connection with people, with nature, with myself!

So I began unhooking myself from my attachment to righteous resentment. Despite my love for this way of being.

Rewiring the Old Patterns
This morning, with the rain pitter-pattering on the roof, when I caught myself grumbling, I paused. I really want to be someone who is grateful, generous, loving, kind, and forgiving. But at that moment, I realized: I can’t get there from here.

Why?
Because the part of me that believes I’m separate, disconnected, and alone needs strategies to stay safe—strategies that help me feel invulnerable to more loss, grief, or disappointment, where I used to lean into my righteous indignation.

That makes sense, right?

So, I practiced the same technique I used regarding remaining unforgiving. I asked myself:

• What do I get by choosing to remain unkind? The answer came before I finished asking the question: I get to feel entitled, mean-spirited, vengeful, and righteous.
• What do I get by choosing to remain ungrateful? I get to stay bitter, angry, and resentful.
• What do I get by choosing to remain ungenerous? I get to feel stingy, selfish, and withholding.
• What do I get by choosing to remain unloving? I get to stay invulnerable and disconnected.

In every case, I witnessed how I empower myself to stay separate, mad, sad, and bad—my lifelong M.O. Truth is, there’s an ironic kind of empowerment in choosing to disempower myself in all these ways. Fun, right?

Why I Keep Choosing Disconnection
When I relate to others—or even just imagine relating to others—I often choose behaviors that disconnect me. Why? Because I don’t feel safe. Staying invulnerable feels protective and empowering. This is a good thing, to keep oneself safe and secure.

But at the same time, that choice to stay disconnected—even if it’s just in my head—keeps me stuck in resentment, withholding, and aloneness. I don’t get to truly connect and enjoy myself by being this way. Dang it! Now that’s a kick in the head.

Inquiring Minds Want to Know…

By asking these questions, “What do I get by staying this way?”, I recognize my choices as forms of self-protection. But now I can ask: Is this really how I want to live? Do I want to keep protecting myself from life, from love, from fun? Or, am I willing to consider choosing something different?

Truth is, I become a much better friend to myself when I understand the source of my choices. And instead of stewing in disappointment, loneliness, or resentment, I now have a little more space to choose something softer. Something kinder. Even if just for a moment.

Still a Work in Progress
There’s a part of me that would love to be Mother Theresa. And there’s a part of me that just isn’t ready to give up my well-honed strategies for staying mad, sad, and safe—in being a poopy-head. That part needs love and appreciation, too.

It takes time to deconstruct these habits. It takes patience, and a dedication to being a little more connected to myself. It takes compassion for the part of me that still thinks invulnerability is the only safety.

Maybe I’ll get there in the next lifetime.

For now, I’m practicing something different—just a little more kindness, a little more generosity… especially toward the poopy-head part of me. We all need love!