Showing posts with label humility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humility. Show all posts

Friday, May 25, 2012

Happy Birthday to Me

I think I'm ok with turning 37, even if it means I'm now in my "late 30s"... which makes me cringe a little.

But, I am healthier than I was at 27.

I am happier than I've ever been.

I have more love in my life than I ever imagined.

I finally work in just the right place for my personality, my skills, and my needs.

My life is decidedly not perfect—and I am recognizing it much faster when I fall back on that perfectionism mentality, too.

My life is quieter, slower, and calmer, and yet—filled with deeper connections, greater intimacy, and vulnerable authenticity.

Truly, I am blessed.

If you recall, my “theme” for 2012 is abundance. What I didn’t realize at first is that to welcome abundance in all its forms: love, money, blessings, health, stability, strength, openness, authenticity, etc… you have to clear out the old.

That means letting go and walking away. It means paring down. It means readjusting priorities. It means knowing and feeling what’s really important and meaningful in your life.

And sometimes that’s not only a difficult process, but painful one, too.

But, like anything else worth doing, it feels good to finally let go. When I let go of my Acura back in February, I had no idea the events that were already cascading into place in the background. It’s as if the Acura was the dam, and once I agreed that the dam was no longer working as intended… it broke loose and I was washed over with a flood of—yes… abundance, in the form of a new job, a newer car, and a renewed lease on my condo.

I also had to truly let go of David. That is something I haven’t found a way to talk about cleverly here (or anywhere), but it was incredibly difficult. I let him go because he wasn’t really all in at that point. He was acting as if I truly wasn’t that important in his life.

Well…

Once I finally (and wholly) let go—he came back. And as I mentioned before, he came back in a very big way. And I have felt altogether overwhelmed, amazed, and deeply humbled at the abundance of love flowing between us and surrounding us.

It proves to me that letting go of what I perceive to be the best I can have makes room for something better than I ever imagined. That is what abundance looks like in this first half of 2012.

Letting go is painful, though. It’s a tough decision and I don’t arrive there easily, quickly, or even all that willingly.

But once I surrender… I’m inspired and awe-struck.

The beauty of letting go is all the unexpected blessings that suddenly arrive. And I am letting them in, too, which is something else new for me.

It feels good.

I think the best thing about getting older is that I feel like I have come into my true self. I am finally allowing myself to “just be me”, which is something I longed for—for so many years. And after a whole lot of hard work, and more than one slice of humble pie, it’s come true.

I am me. And 37 is already looking like a great year.

Thank you for being here on this ride with me. I can no longer imagine trying to do this alone.

Thankfully, I don’t have to.

Friday, February 24, 2012

What I've Learned About Faith

A couple of weeks ago, so much of my life was up in the air. I didn’t have transportation. I didn’t have a job. And the pending renewal of my condo lease was looming. If I couldn’t find a job and/or a roommate within a couple of weeks, I would be looking at finding a friend to stay with or moving back in with my parents.

Just the thought of going through moving (on top of everything else) made me sick to my stomach.

The Sunday night before selling my car was tough. It’s as if I stayed up as late as possible to try and put off the sun’s rising Monday morning, knowing what I would have to go through with—knowing that I would be selling my car. My one asset, the one thing remaining from my old life, but really, it was even more than that.

That car was part of my identity.
We had a good run... 

Letting go of it meant letting go of the last piece of my old identiy—one I had worked so hard to create: a delicate façade of trying to be a perfect wife, a perfect provider, a perfect friend, a perfect daughter, a perfect artist.

What I ended up becoming was a perfect failure.

Monday, February 6, inevitably arrived, of course. I hastily cleaned out my car, dumping all its contents into reusable grocery bags and hauling it upstairs.

(I might as well admit right here and now that all of the contents of my cubicle from my Frito-Lay days were still jostling around in the trunk.)

My friend David met me for breakfast where we talked about some things that were on both of our hearts, and then we headed to CarMax. The selling process was rather unceremonious, and I walked out of there with a bank draft.

My friend took me to the bank, where I deposited the check and then drafted a cashier’s check for my February rent.

Then, he dropped me off at home, where I waited for my landlord to stop by and pick up the check. When she arrived, I was very open with her. I told her I didn’t know what was going to happen—that I was doing the best I could do, and I had had some great interviews, but nothing had yet turned into an offer. I told her I wanted to do right by her and give as much notice as possible if I was going to have to move out. A lot would depend on the next couple of weeks.

She offered to go month-to-month for the same dollar amount until I got everything figured out. I think she appreciated my openness, and up until this point, I have been a perfect tenant.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

I didn’t know what was going on in the background as all of this transpired. I felt strangely peaceful.

As it turns out, a former colleague of mine had run into a former colleague of hers. And although I don’t know the exact timing, I’d like to think it was sometime around the sale of my car. Anyway, he mentioned the need for an Instructional Designer, and did she happen to know anybody?

Indeed, she did.

She recommended me and introduced us via LinkedIn that evening.

An hour later, he emailed me directly and asked if I could come in for an interview Tuesday or Wednesday.

I knew my friend David was going out of town Tuesday afternoon and had offered to loan me his car while he was gone. I asked for a Wednesday interview and sent my résumé over to him on Tuesday.

It’s interesting to note that on Tuesday, I met my friend Michael for lunch, and we talked about the Laws of Attraction. That evening, I started making a list of what I wanted—in a man, in a career, for myself, etc.

The important part of Laws of Attraction is also describing why you deserve the things you’re asking for… and to be sure to only ask when you’re in the right frame of mind—a genuine place, rather than a place of desperation or greed.

And, I realized a few things—that I have already tasted a lot of what I want, I just haven’t had a lot of it all together at one time. I also realized how far I’ve come, to dare and to believe I am worthy of all that my heart truly wants. It was a good feeling, and I went to bed feeling positive and hopeful.

On Wednesday morning, I got up and prepared… looked over all of my work and put some samples on a jump drive to show them. I thought about what I might say and what questions they might ask. I combed through their website. You know—all the usual interview-prep stuff.

I expected the interview to last an hour or a little longer. You know—the usual.

But, I ended up being there for over four hours. I met with the President and VP. I met with a main Project Coordinator and I met the other two Instructional Designers. I met a few other people, too. It felt like I was part of the team and that was my first day of work. I felt welcomed. I felt energized to finally find a small company that has a great business model that really works.

On Friday morning, I got the job offer!

That afternoon, I signed paperwork accepting the offer… just after signing a two-year renewal on my condo lease.

And, Saturday, I took care of the one missing piece: buying a car.

No longer did I have to settle for a cheap “cash car”. I could actually finance a car, and apparently I’ve done something right over the last year or so, because I managed to get a great interest rate.

So… I bought a 2009 Honda Accord.


I started my new job the following Tuesday, and I’m quite happy there. I didn’t just get any job, after all. I got a job that truly fits me and my personality. I fit, too. I get to use my strengths, my background, my education, and I get to work with great people in a great environment, too!

I feel pretty strongly that letting go of the Acura—the last piece of my old identity—was the very thing that set into motion the chain of events that happened within a span of just five days.

I’ve learned so much over the past few months—about myself, and about others. I have received an abundance of love, support, and energy. I’ve learned just how little money I really need.

There were times when I quite literally didn’t know where I would get the money to pay for my next meal, let alone my next bill. And yet, I didn’t ever truly go into panic mode. I found that in just the nick of time, I would get a donation for writing group, someone would buy a piece of jewelry, a friend would generously buy me dinner, or something else would happen and suddenly—I’d have $100 again.

I have learned the real value of money, and with all the time I’ve had on my hands—I’ve certainly had ample opportunity to examine my spending habits from the past. I realized that I spent entirely too much money on stupid things. That realization has helped me renew my focus, come up with a more realistic budget, and of course renew my awareness of where my money really goes.

I bought one thing in the last two or three months that I didn’t need. One. And that was BrenéBrown’s new book, The Gifts ofImperfection, which I recommend to everyone. (I bought it after hearing this awesome podcast, by the way.)

That’s pretty different for me. In the past—even when I was in a financial pinch—I would have found ways to spend money on stupid things like a new sweater or pair of shoes. I didn’t do that this time. I needed every dime I got to pay the phone bill or the grocery bill.

What I’ve learned about faith over the past few months is that I had to fully trust in God before I could have it. (Maybe that isn’t the case for you, but for me—it is.) I made that choice, to fully trust, back in December when I refreshed the Step Beyond training through Pathways. That was pivotal for me, and ever since December, I have felt a deep sense of peace.

Even through this crazy storm of my life, I have felt an underlying sense of peace. I did my part—looking for jobs, applying for jobs, asking for help, reworking my résumé over and over, connecting with people who might be able to help, and in the meantime continuing to pursue my passions so that I didn’t go completely insane.

And because I did my part, I was able to—somehow… let go of those things that were out of my control.

I took a leap… a leap of faith.

It didn’t feel like a leap, though. It felt like a daily practice, and there were some very dark days, to be sure.
Happy me, in my favorite shirt. It was my grandmother's.

But instead of turning completely inward during the darkness, I turned to God. I turned to friends and family. I turned to writing. I turned to all of the things that feed my soul, and I was never truly alone. I walked through this storm with dignity. I have emerged stronger and more solidified in my faith, with priorities revamped, focus restored, and a brand new appreciation for friends, family, and even acquaintances who have in one way or another been so willing to extend a helping hand… just for me.

To me, faith is a choice (and, like all things, it takes practice). But it is not a choice easily made, and I had to be in the right place, spiritually, to be able to make that choice.

I had to be on my knees. 

I have been through some of the most truly humbling experiences of my life over the past months, and I have learned so much along the way. But this time... instead of being knocked down to my knees by external forces, this was an inside job. I had to be willing to go to my knees myself. Humility was a choice. I recognize now that all of the lessons in humility that I've had over the past months (years?) led me to this point, so that I would have the courage to willingly go to my knees when it was time.

I believe faith is about stepping forward and doing something incredibly hard, and trusting that even when you have no clue what the outcome will be—you will be okay. For me, this time, it was the past few months culminating in the biggest leap of all—selling my car.

In my willingness to let go of control and trust that I would be okay, I gained deeper understanding of what it means to walk with God and to let Him carry me when I am too weak to take the steps myself.

And, truly, what I’ve learned over the past couple of years sank in, all the way to my core. I am loved. I am cared for. I am taken care of. I am not alone…

(These things are true for all of us, by the way.)

I am deeply grateful to accept these gifts and all the blessings I have received thus far.

I am drinking from my saucer, because my cup is overflowing.

Monday, January 16, 2012

It Takes a Village

It has been said that it takes a village.

We’ve all heard that in regards to children, right? But I am learning that it takes a village for adults, too.

The power of prayer and positive thinking, along with positive actions and results, can multiply exponentially when shared across friends and family.

I’ve mentioned here and there in my blog that I’m in a difficult spot financially. There have been times—like right now, for instance—where I am not entirely sure where my next meal is going to come from. There have been times when I wasn’t sure how a bill would get paid. And of course, times when I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay my rent, either.

So far, things have sort of worked out. I’ve got a growing stack of bills that need to be paid, but the critical ones—my phone, electricity and rent—have been paid by doing odd jobs here and there, or by my writing coaching (individual as well as our writing group).

And I’ve been looking for jobs, with a very recent focus on getting a job as a server (aka waitress). I have a second interview later that I hope turns into an offer, and a hopeful start date of sometime next week. And I just heard back from another restaurant that wants to interview me for a hostess position, too.

Until the job thing pans out, though, I need something bigger, and I need it fast. In times like this, one tends to have a lot of time to think. And when I looked really hard, I started to get really creative with my thinking.

I realized that I could sell my one and only asset: my car.

That’s a tough one for me… because I love my car. Any of you who know me at all know this. I have loved that car since the day I drove it off the show room floor, back in December 2002. I love driving it, I love the way it looks, I love the interior—I love everything about it, really, except that it’s now getting old and things are starting to go wrong with it.

I’d be looking at buying a cheaper and likely older car, and then using the difference as a buffer to carry me through until I can make enough job waitressing to keep me afloat.

So, knowing how much I love my car—for me to be fully willing to sell it… that should just about tell you where I am.

I am on my knees. And willing… to do whatever it takes.

Selling my car and hopefully getting a job as a server don’t solve my immediate need, though.

I am out of money. I don’t have a way to pay February’s rent, and even if I started a job waiting tables next week, I don’t think I could get enough money together in time for the February 1 deadline.

I am going to ask my property manager if I can have a grace period. I feel hopeful without feeling expectant. We’ll see what she says.

And the rest of this week, I’m volunteering for Pathways as a TA at The Walk, so I will be totally out of pocket as far as looking for work or even following up on potential jobs.

In other words… for now—this is out of my hands.

I find myself in a very uncomfortable position. I am posting this at the urging and encouraging of friends, who have said it can’t hurt.

If you are willing to help, I would be forever grateful.

I am willing to clean your house, wash your car, or do other odd jobs to earn the money. I’m not really looking for hand-outs… I’m not that type of person. I will of course sell you jewelry, or make something custom (if I have the materials on hand, or if you don’t mind paying upfront).

Just putting this out here is… well, humbling, to say the very least. There are so many tapes that play in my head when I think about hitting “Publish” on this post: other people need it more, I can figure this out on my own, there are so many others in need… I don’t deserve it, and on and on…

But all those tapes playing in my head aren’t doing me any good, so now I am trying something different and something that is very difficult for me. I am asking for help.

If you would like me to do an odd job for you (like cleaning house, washing your car, etc) then please email me at lindaleetritton [at] gmail [dot] com.

Or…


And if you have nothing to give in the way of funds, then positive thoughts, prayers, a lit candle, good vibes, positive energy—it all helps.

Thank you.