Dear Friend,
Allow me to tell you about my two-hour rollercoaster ride.
Sadly, not Six Flags. Just a massive journey down into the internal plumbing of my psyche and back up again.
Thursday morning actually started out quite well. I was all proud of myself. Got in a strong workout, a nourishing breakfast, even a shower. Put on a lip and I was ready to start the workday.
WHAT, Thursday!? You ain’t got NOTHING on this self-cared-up-boss-babe.
I opened my laptop, sipping on my freshly made Flat White.
Just as I saw a new email populate in my work inbox from my colleague, he called.
Oh! Hi!
He gave me a heads up about the email he had just sent and, honestly, that’s really where I blacked out. I could feel a bit of tension and urgency in his voice, and I felt it well up through my own spine.
Ah, right, yes, I’ll check the email right now.
Off the call, I read it slowly.
The email itself was supportive yet direct, encouraging a group of us toward a direction, with a good amount of healthy urgency, framed explicitly as a collective effort.
Somehow, the email read one way and I received it in a completely different language. I could actually feel my nervous system translating it.
The words could have been something like, “We need to get on this...” And quick-like-cheetah, my nervous system translated: “You haven’t been doing this.”
Within seconds, I was emotionally thrashing somewhere between defensiveness and shame. My brain had opened a legal practice and was rapidly building a defense case.
Don’t you see that I’ve already...
Do you have any idea how much I’ve done for...
I stopped myself… Nat, what are you defending?
The answer came immediately.
That I haven’t done enough. That I don’t know how.
Ah.
There you are.
The old so you’re saying I’m not enough.
Here’s the maddening part. I had enough wherewithal to know there was a massive chasm between what the email actually said and what I had heard.
I could see the chasm.
I just couldn’t seem to get myself across it.
The momentum was already there. Part of me wanted to hide under a rock forever and ever amen. Another part of me wanted to prepare a lengthy exhibit of everything I had already contributed. Judge-Jury-Defendant-and-Prosecution-Nat had convened court and, apparently, we were hoping to reach a verdict before lunch.
I had thirty minutes before my next call, where I would need to be Strategic-Leader-Natalie. So I chose my highest form of spiritual practice for moments such as these:
Phone a friend. ;)
Thankfully, Janie picked up.
“Girl, I am activated and it’s all my stuff. I’m reading this email for the third time and it’s as kind and collaborative as it can be. But it went straight to my nervous system’s central vein.”
A consummate professional in both spiritual and work realms, she got straight to the point. “What’s it hitting upon?”
“My two core-of-the-core-of-the-center-of-my-wounds: I’ve done something wrong. - AND - I’m not smart.”
