The one we forget to thank most often

I don’t mean to be ungrateful…

Nearly every day I state aloud the myriad of things for which I am grateful. There are things I will state that always make the list; my spouse, my job, my home, my friends and family. I do my best to keep from merely performing an auditory roll call of gratitude, checking off each box to indicate the ones I remembered to state. Sometimes it does feel like I’m going through a checklist, so when it does I will not only state what I am grateful for, but why. I will state the reason I am grateful for whatever or whomever it is, what joy or benefit it brings to my life.

The true source of self worth

Can I get my parking validated for my ego?

Recently I took part in a discussion on a forum regarding confidence vs. arrogance. The question was asked as to where one becomes the other. At what point do we take what is merely confidence in who we are, in our abilities, and let them run untethered into the territory of arrogance? Where do we reach the point where taking pride in what we do acquires the adjective of sinful?

My credentials

I had a dream last night where I was entering comments and replies to an informational piece I had written. One of the comments was asking to see my credentials. The author of the comment wanted to know what my background and formal training was that qualified me to present the information in the article.

I contemplated this, as I had contemplated it in my waking life before. So now I will take the time to present my credentials. So let me address the person that insisted on needing that sort of substantiation:

Me.

 

Dear Me,

You had asked me to provide some credentials, some evidence that I am qualified to speak on the specific matters of which I have been writing about, that offer insight and help to those who might need it. My assumption is that you ask because you want to make certain I have acquired the prerequisite knowledge to speak on such matters with any sense of authority or position.

Perhaps it might assuage your concerns if I were to present you with certifications and diplomas, with letters and dots in the caboose of my name. Perhaps you would be delighted to know what educational institutes I have attended, what academic experts or spiritual advisors I have studied under, what great distant lands I have traveled in search of truth and enlightenment. Perhaps it might please you to see me demonstrate channeled knowledge from ascended masters, information from deceased loved ones or enlightened spirits. Or perhaps I can send you a photo of myself framed in my stacks of earned millions, real estate deeds, stock holdings and ample dividend statements.

I understand that once you see the evidence of my credentials, you can then accept all I convey in my words as valid.

I will now present you the evidence that I am appropriately accredited to speak on the matters of which I often speak:

I am blessed beyond my wildest dreams. I have a fantastic family life, of which I could ask no more than what I have. My wife and I make a comfortable income that meets our needs and desires, from a position of a standard middle class income earning bracket. The only debt we could be said to carry is the mortgage on our house. A house that offers a fantastic view of the water in a peaceful neighborhood, the type of house and neighborhood that we both dreamed of living in someday, and that day is today. We travel frequently enough to satisfy our curiosity of other places in the country or the world. We eat good healthy meals consistently. We have in our lives friends and family that we see often and share our love with.

We are blessed. We have peace in our lives. By no means are our lives free of challenges, nor would we ask them to be. We do not spend our time wishing for a life other than what we currently have. It seems to me this is what most people strive for, a life that contains within it peace, love, and joy.

I have been able to create this life for myself without a college degree, without accreditations, without exceptional abilities or volumes of wealth.  I am the poster child of the majority of us, someone who is able to achieve all this in my life without the preconceived expectations of what is required to do so. These are my credentials.

 

Signed,

A person no different than you

 

Self esteem in subculture

Very early in our lives we are told, “just be yourself”.

As we walk into the world of pre-school and kindergarten we are given training wheels for developing a solid self-esteem so we don’t tip over under the weight of judgment and criticism. We are taught to be proud of who we are through the rhetoric of musical self-affirmations. We are told how special we are, each and every one of us. We’re special… just like everyone else.

We then migrate into the age of learning mathematics and history. Along with those lessons come the expectations on how much we need to learn, on how well we demonstrate the knowledge imparted to us, on our capacity to be the memory savant during the next 45 minutes of test taking. We are still told the value of being unique and special and being proud of who we are, but on the terms that are laid out before us.

We then reach that pivotal, critical, and oh so awkward tween, pre-teen, and teen age, where mob mentality is minimum expectation, where group think, conformity and social indoctrination are paramount to survival. The mere thought or possibility of ostracization from the social standards can lead to significant scarring of self worth. As the grade levels increase, thus the education and socialization expectations along with them, the greater the stakes, the further removed we become from heralding our uniqueness. The nursery rhymes that incite the dance of self esteem become faint echoes of a melody we barely recall, the words lost under a heap of an imperative to socially conform.

This is my own battle as I move parts of my own self-expression from box to closet to safe. If I haven’t seen my ideas or interests endorsed by the plot threads of prime time television, I dress it up in camouflage so as not to garner sideways glances and wrenched up left eyebrows. I do a bit of mental eeny-meeny-miney-mo as to whom I will divulge such ideas as spirit guides and tarot cards and my interest therein. I whisper these ideas to social organizations into which I tiptoe, forums that welcome us with cute nomenclatures written on our “Hello my name is” stickers, groups of friends that discuss these ideas in attics with other Anne Franks of the esoteric spirituality sect.

Then this is where I wake up. This is who I am. What is the price of rebuff? To be spurned by those that do not embrace my ideology? Is that to say it is important for me to be embraced by people who would not accept or understand me outright? Or simply to be embraced by people regardless? Along with my subcultural interests I bring compassion, kindness, humor, warmth, lightness, and honesty to the table. If all those wonderful and positive aspects of my character are dismissed offhand due to being nervous that I may cast a narcoleptic spell upon them that calls for an amphibian kiss as the antidote, then in all actuality I myself am being dismissive of my own character and all those positives therein.

So I therefore relieve all others of the responsibility of having to accept me for what I bring to the table. I let them off the hook, therefore I let myself off in turn.