Standing My Sacred Ground
“Do not shrink. Do not puff up. Stand my sacred ground.”
I first heard this gold nugget of a truth a few months ago from Brene Brown, in a series she did on what our experiences in shame look like. It’s also something I had to be reminded in my latest therapy session, as I’m, once again, crying over a shit-ton of spilled milk.
This authenticity mantra has been something I’ve mentioned many, many times in conversation since I first heard it. It keeps rattling around in my brain. “Do not shrink. Do not puff up. Stand my sacred ground.” There’s something profound, yet so simple, about it. This is why it’s stuck with me. It’s catchy, easy to memorize and recite…but it’s not as easy to implement, at least not in the areas where I’m still trying to figure out what my sacred ground is.
What is my sacred ground? What is the sacred understanding of myself that only I am fully invited into?… the space I call my own, where I begin, through to the space where I end…the space where the true Lisa exists, unfettered, unattached, unwavering in the face of others’ shoulds and shouldn’ts…the space that grounds and validates my own experience of this life…the space that houses the woman I’ve found myself to be after all the digging and uncovering…the space that holds what I have found to be valuable and true of myself? What is the sacred ground where I AM, no more, no less? It seems that until I’ve wrestled with these questions, and found some sense of ownership in this arena, I will continue to let other’s opinions of me seep into my own identification of myself. Until I’m able to self-sustain my sacred ground, I will continue to be led to the watering hole of other’s approval for nourishment.
Even though I’ve wrestled through a lot of these questions in defining my sacred ground, every once in a while I’m thrown out of gear, and not so gently reminded that I’ve got some more miles to trek here. I still struggle with the idea that someone could believe something differently about myself than I do. It irks me. I HATE it. I hate being misunderstood, and often times, it hurts like hell. This has happened a lot over the last couple of years, but not without reason and not to anyone’s blame. The fact is, the road I’m walking is messy. I’m still learning, and I can be clumsy and fumble-y in the process. Adding the fact that I wasn’t immediately gifted with great communication skills, and this beautiful mess has got “Breeding Grounds for Misunderstanding” plastered all over it, right?
When somebody provokes your anger, the only reason you get angry is because you’re holding on to how you think something’s supposed to be. – Ram Daas
These days I’m trying to allow myself to sit in uncomfortable emotions and situations without immediately throwing up my white flag of negative peace. In this space, I’m realizing that I’m disappointed, hurt, and frustrated by people more often than I’d care to admit. Where does that come from? What is the root of it? What is my responsibility in this?
Maybe one way of holding my sacred ground is letting go of my expectations on other people, letting go of the expectation that a person needs to know and accept every part of me in order to be in relationship with me. It’s a reoccurring theme of late. My therapist has asked me, more than a few times, “What are your expectations on <insert name here>?” or “Why do you need <insert name here> to understand you.” I initially reply, “Oh I don’t have ANY expectations on <insert name here>. I know <insert name here> probably won’t change.” Then I realize, the only reason I’m frustrated is because I’m not getting the result or behavior that I’m wanting. I realize that I am, indeed, chock-full of expectations on other people, still desperately seeking them to see me as I am. And when my reflection is not mirrored back to me, I am disappointed and shaken.
What if I take this a step further, and ask about my expectations on my relationships? What if part of my freedom is in letting go of those expectations as well? What if I don’t need everyone to understand me as well as I understand myself, or even how my husband understands me? What if my actual relationships don’t need to look like the “typical” standards I’ve created of what “this” type or “that” type of relationship should look? What if I could rest in the fact that every relationship has it’s own level of intimacy for good reason, and I could trust the hierarchy of relationships I’ve cultivated in my life. What if not everyone has to understand everything?
Now, a (very) short story…
The other day an older lady at the grocery store approached me and said, “I don’t mean to pry into your business, but you can’t just leave your cart and purse out there by itself! Somebody’s going to come by and snatch that thing.” Those are the words she said, but I heard, “I don’t mean to pry into your business, but you can’t just leave your cart and purse out there by itself! Somebody’s going to come by and snatch that thing, you irresponsible idiot.” Then, I turned beet red, and just mumbled over and over, “I know, I know,” with my head hung low, as she led me back to my cart, like a child. Then, naturally, I obsessed over it for the next 3 hours.
In that moment, I shrunk. For a few hours, I gave in to an old idea that I am not enough, that I don’t have the tools I need to navigate this complicated life, that I am still a child stuck in an adult’s body. Reflecting back, I can think through another option where I recognize her kindness and respond with a, “Thank you for caring!” and go on with my grocery shopping. Because, I KNOW that I am not an irresponsible idiot, and I KNOW that I am not a child. I don’t need her to believe or understand that about me in order for it to be true, it just is. My sacred ground is not shaken because of a stranger’s opinion of me (or my ideas of what that opinion is), because her understanding of me is expansively different than my own. I think this principle can be applied to every relationship, my most intimate to the random stranger in a grocery store. My understanding of myself should carry more weight, and affect my actions, more than another’s opinion, because no one knows me like I know myself. It would be so very careless of me to think otherwise.
As I wrap up here, I want to offer a couple of things that I saw this week that felt helpful in understanding this idea of standing my sacred ground; some practical notes for the intellect, and a poetic plea for the heart.
12 steps to Self-Care:
If it feels wrong, don’t do it.
Say exactly what you mean.
Don’t be a people pleaser.
Trust your instincts.
Never speak badly about yourself.
Never give up on your dreams.
Don’t be afraid to say no.
Don’t be afraid to say yes.
Be kind to yourself.
Let go of what you can’t control.
Stay away from drama and negativity.
Love.
A Note from Mother Universe:
when a human treats you badly my son,
close your eyes, breathe deeply, and feel me tall in your chest.
that is not only land and stars and ocean.
that is a whole human race inside you.
never forfeit what you believe; you all
began naked. keep being ridiculous
while people tell you to give up hope in
the cruel. give so much love, it haunts
the hate in others. they will think your
gift is silly, that you’re just another
wannabe modern day hippie, but show them
there is so much more to this. to you.
to them. keep being ridiculous in the purest
of ways. not enough people are.
-Christopher Poindexter
Here’s to the hope of a life soaked through with love, where we live fully and freely, neither casting down, or living in, a shadow.
Love and Peace, my friends!