I find it interesting that many people are afraid of any meaningful self-analysis. They don’t want to become any more self-aware than they already are, which is all too often on a fairly superficial level. They never wonder, “What makes me tick?” Nor do they care. They’re content to carry on doing whatever it is they do, even if they’re not happy, and even if their thoughts and behaviour get them into trouble.
In fact, some of them thrive on that “trouble”; they need the drama and turmoil. It’s often a subconscious attempt to work out all those aspects of themselves they don’t want to see.
They live on “Leave well enough alone.”
I reckon that’s okay if it is truly “well enough” for those people but often, it is not. Instead, they wander through life, dragging their emotional wounds with them like steamer trunks full of pain, insecurity, fear and feelings of inadequacy. On the surface, they think they’re happy. Or at least they don’t notice if they’re not. They live lives of mediocrity, not necessarily in terms of money, status or possessions, but in terms of any sense of joy and fulfillment.
Everything. Is. Grey.
Everything. Is. Flat.
They don’t notice — or they choose to ignore — that a big steamer trunk is planted right smack in the middle of the road ahead of them and that it’s adversely affecting various aspects of their lives. And it’s also planted right smack in the middle of the road inward, the one that leads to self-awareness and understanding. The one that leads to healing.
Somewhere inside themselves, they stare at that steamer trunk with trepidation, fearful of what it contains, as though they’ll lift the lid and some horrible, creepy monsters will leap out at them and tear off their heads.
“Better left locked up,” they decide. Best to park where they are, right there at the side of the road, and be content to not go any further. “Self-awareness? No, thanks. Too scary.”
Peering past the steamer trunk, they see that beyond it is a giant, heavy, wooden door with long, pointed wrought-iron hinges. Its intimidating quality invites a deep sense of dread, even though a long, thick bolt ensures that it is shut tightly from this side. Whatever is on the other side can stay there. Ain’t nothin’ bursting through that door without express permission.
They are glad for that bolt because honestly, they don’t want to know what’s hidden in that room. They’re sure it can’t be anything good.
And in part, they’re right. If you rummage around in that room, there will be some bits that aren’t nice. All of us have some of those. But there’s also a whole lot of great stuff, too. There’s wisdom in there, and insights you didn’t know you had.
As this awareness filters into your consciousness, you bite the bullet and decide to risk it. At least a little. You’re not ready to turn on the big, bright bulb that’s hanging in that room. Maybe just shine a flashlight in there as you journey inward. The further you go, the more you discover about who you really are, how you feel about the events and people in your life, honestly and bravely facing the truths about your Self.
Yes, at times it can be unpleasant in that room; you won’t always like what you find. But being aware of those aspects of yourself can make a monumental difference to how you live your life, how you treat others, how you treat yourself, and whether you move forward and progress to places of happiness and fulfilment.
And you can be sure you’ll also find lots of splendiferous goodies in there, too, places of beauty and strength, wisdom and insight and you will be amazed by how much you didn’t know you knew. You’ll discover just how far you’ve come, how radiant your spirit is, and you will be more willing and able to let the rest of us see it, too.
The journey inward is one of the most frightening journeys we can ever take, but it is also one of the most rewarding. Personally, I don’t fear it. I embrace it. I love it. Unpleasantness and all, I’m happy to keep discovering more and more about myself. This allows me to work on improving the parts I don’t like, or stop letting them interfere with my life, and I can also make good use of the best bits.
I don’t understand why we should ever be so afraid as to not want to know ourselves intimately. What makes even less sense to me is that when in that state, so many people complain that their partners (or family, friends, bosses, etc.) don’t understand them.
Uhhh, I’d love to know how anyone else is supposed to understand them when they don’t understand themselves. And how could they even think that is possible? And why the hell would they expect that? Ridiculous…hypocritical…outrageous…oh, the fun one could have finding words to describe something so utterly preposterous.
And even if we don’t expect others to understand us, many of us wish we had partners who would love and accept us unconditionally, flaws and all. But how can we expect anyone else to do that when we don’t dare look at our imperfections ourselves?
Are you effing kidding me???
Taking that journey is not that bad when you balance the not-so-attractive parts with the good stuff. It’s just you in there, so how can it be that bad? Believe me, whatever is in there will be a lot of the same kinds of issues that everyone else has. We’re not that different from one another. We share a lot of fears and flaws and we can all be quite awful and truly wonderful.
Come on, be brave. Be willing to start with that steamer trunk. It’s the best place to begin. It’ll be full of “stuff,” most of which you already know but might prefer to ignored. The not-so-great choices, the results you hadn’t anticipated…old stuff that hurts, new stuff that hurts…a bunch of broken stuff that can get chucked out, stuff you don’t need anymore. Beliefs that make you think, “Huh? I was still hanging on to THIS?” Toss it in the rubbish pile.
And once you’ve waded through the stuff that’s in there, stop for a coffee break. Or a whiskey break. Notice that it wasn’t as bad as you thought. You might have even come up with some exciting revelations that’ll help you keep moving forward.
Be aware of how great it feels to have got through that trunk. Be proud of yourself for making progress.
Time to tackle that door. The steamer trunk was terrific preparation. Now it’s time to dive deeper. Roll up your sleeves, take a deep breath, and find out who the hell is in there. Relax; it’s only you.
Shove aside that steamer trunk, slide that bolt sideways and pull open that enormous, creaky, old door. Turn on the big, bright light in that room. You’re the only one who has to know what you find, unless you choose to share it. You can keep all your secrets to yourself, if you want. So what’s to be afraid of?
NUTHIN’. Zero. Nada. Zip.
Your life will never be complete unless you go for it. Why?? Because you won’t be complete.
As we say in Canada (and I believe they say it in the USA, too), “Just get ‘er done!”
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This post was previously published on Liberty Forrest.
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You may also like these posts on The Good Men Project:
Escape the Act Like a Man Box | What We Talk About When We Talk About Men | Why I Don’t Want to Talk About Race | The First Myth of the Patriarchy: The Acorn on the Pillow |
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Wow, right on target, and perfectly timed. I’ve just retired after 44 years of Reg. Nurse worhaholic habits of putting patients staff and corporate ahead of myself, spouse family and friends. The newly empty hours have exposed in technicolor horror a legacy of self neglect which has netted me a whole trunk of junk to explore. All alone but commited to a fresh start. Dreams stored in moth balls and covered in dust. Regrets of the road not taken. Relationships left behind or avoided. Your essay was charmingly written and will warmly accompany me on this journey of self discovery… Read more »