Another awesome post! And Linda since you ask... actually I've made some progress this morning on something which terrifies me and which I need to work through. My edge, as you put it, was there, and I (briefly) stepped beyond it. It's a work in progress, but I feel so proud for today's small step.
A rather edgy topic, Linda, and merits a reply. In a gunnysack I’ll label “stage fright” are some smaller sacks that contain details of shame that arose from both naïveté and thoughtless conduct.
Talking one on one is usually not terrible. Being in a group, strangers or otherwise, I’m petrified to hear my own voice regardless of the topic. I’ve polished possible personas that I believe make me “fit in.” Not so much.
I’ve dipped one toe and then another here on Substack. In doing so I’ve allowed myself to have a voice. Just words I’ve pecked out on the QUERTY keyboard. A different online community I’m able to see avatars of others and hear them speak in real time. Unsurprisingly my avatar has my dog in the foreground, happy as a clam, and I in the background. Or perhaps that one is for another online escape - Twitter? A second avatar is comprised of, yes - Izzie dog, my wife Beth, and I with a purposely ridiculous facial expression.
Have any of these opportunities helped? After countless times watching the avatars and hearing others speak, I decided I had to make an attempt. The feelings that resulted were a flashback to those from my candidacy to become president of the Pennsylvania Junior Historian’s Society. My words came out like frog squeaks. The sizable gathering seemed to react with disbelief. The horror.
Today I feel willingness to speak in the virtual gathering. I think I sound less frightened. I may even feel less so. We’re only as sick as our secrets. I thank you, Linda, for the chance to boot a couple secrets. Carrying less baggage I’ll likely increase my walking pace when Iz and I head out the door.
I find it hard to believe you have "stage fright." But we become masters of disguises to cope, fooling all. Or no one, perhaps? I'm delighted for all of us that you're booting these secrets. Enjoy your walk with Iz and all that you embrace today.
Perhaps the practice of presenting personas, in itself, induces stage fright? When Billie Joel released “The Stranger” which contains a song by the same name, I felt a strong identification. “Well we all have a face, That we hide away forever, And we take them out and show ourselves when everyone has gone, Some are satin some are steel some are silk and some are leather, They’re the faces of a stranger and we love to try them on.” Lyrics indelibly set in my brain and written so above.
Looking back on my journey with AA, I remember the jolt when I was told to simply say, “My name is Gary and I’m an alcoholic.” That felt as if I, too, like in “The Scarlet Letter” was now branded with not one but two A’s. In the ensuing weeks and months, I came to realize how freeing that utterance was. No more posing. Who am I this day? Who do I want to be tomorrow?
The AA Big Book simply states: “What we have is a daily reprieve, contingent on the maintenance of our spiritual condition.” “Maintenance” feels like being a Gardner. Mulching the plants. Watering in dry spells. Staking tomato plants if they become spindly. Picking off tomato horn worms and placing where a bird or lizard might enjoy it. (But not all the horned worms! The wasps that sting these worms in their parasitic relationship require a repository for their eggs so more wasps can show up.) My apologies for tripping and falling headfirst into that rabbit hole.
Thanks for this exchange Linda. It means a lot to me as well.
I'm heading over to my Billy collection right now. You can understand why he never releases any new music when he has to compete with writing like that. Made me reflect on my persona's, my edge and what I'm going to do today.
Wow! Excellent question...I discover so much about myself! What I'm capable of, where I need help, or what isn't working. Thank you Linda. I love that photo of you. Fabulous! Keep going.
Hahaha. I hope people laugh at the photo. I certainly smile when I see it -- the hair, the shoulder pads, the cut of the jacket... Yes, learning where we need help and what's not working are great discoveries for more growth. Go Julie!
Excellent question - and great photo! Miss those 1980's suits - said nobody EVER!
For me - I can't say the risks I've taken have always paid off... but the ones that haven't are the ones I've learned the most from. And it gets easier to recover the older I get.
Another awesome post! And Linda since you ask... actually I've made some progress this morning on something which terrifies me and which I need to work through. My edge, as you put it, was there, and I (briefly) stepped beyond it. It's a work in progress, but I feel so proud for today's small step.
So excited for you! What a rush! Those new edges are so powerful. Gogogo Rebecca! Thank you for sharing this.
Thank you so much! I feel awesome! 🙌
woohoo Rebecca!! We are hearing cheering you on. :)
YAY, thank you, Julie! So grateful! ☺️
oops...we are here cheering you on! YIKES...LOL
A rather edgy topic, Linda, and merits a reply. In a gunnysack I’ll label “stage fright” are some smaller sacks that contain details of shame that arose from both naïveté and thoughtless conduct.
Talking one on one is usually not terrible. Being in a group, strangers or otherwise, I’m petrified to hear my own voice regardless of the topic. I’ve polished possible personas that I believe make me “fit in.” Not so much.
I’ve dipped one toe and then another here on Substack. In doing so I’ve allowed myself to have a voice. Just words I’ve pecked out on the QUERTY keyboard. A different online community I’m able to see avatars of others and hear them speak in real time. Unsurprisingly my avatar has my dog in the foreground, happy as a clam, and I in the background. Or perhaps that one is for another online escape - Twitter? A second avatar is comprised of, yes - Izzie dog, my wife Beth, and I with a purposely ridiculous facial expression.
Have any of these opportunities helped? After countless times watching the avatars and hearing others speak, I decided I had to make an attempt. The feelings that resulted were a flashback to those from my candidacy to become president of the Pennsylvania Junior Historian’s Society. My words came out like frog squeaks. The sizable gathering seemed to react with disbelief. The horror.
Today I feel willingness to speak in the virtual gathering. I think I sound less frightened. I may even feel less so. We’re only as sick as our secrets. I thank you, Linda, for the chance to boot a couple secrets. Carrying less baggage I’ll likely increase my walking pace when Iz and I head out the door.
All the best in your day today! And always.
I find it hard to believe you have "stage fright." But we become masters of disguises to cope, fooling all. Or no one, perhaps? I'm delighted for all of us that you're booting these secrets. Enjoy your walk with Iz and all that you embrace today.
Perhaps the practice of presenting personas, in itself, induces stage fright? When Billie Joel released “The Stranger” which contains a song by the same name, I felt a strong identification. “Well we all have a face, That we hide away forever, And we take them out and show ourselves when everyone has gone, Some are satin some are steel some are silk and some are leather, They’re the faces of a stranger and we love to try them on.” Lyrics indelibly set in my brain and written so above.
Looking back on my journey with AA, I remember the jolt when I was told to simply say, “My name is Gary and I’m an alcoholic.” That felt as if I, too, like in “The Scarlet Letter” was now branded with not one but two A’s. In the ensuing weeks and months, I came to realize how freeing that utterance was. No more posing. Who am I this day? Who do I want to be tomorrow?
The AA Big Book simply states: “What we have is a daily reprieve, contingent on the maintenance of our spiritual condition.” “Maintenance” feels like being a Gardner. Mulching the plants. Watering in dry spells. Staking tomato plants if they become spindly. Picking off tomato horn worms and placing where a bird or lizard might enjoy it. (But not all the horned worms! The wasps that sting these worms in their parasitic relationship require a repository for their eggs so more wasps can show up.) My apologies for tripping and falling headfirst into that rabbit hole.
Thanks for this exchange Linda. It means a lot to me as well.
I'm heading over to my Billy collection right now. You can understand why he never releases any new music when he has to compete with writing like that. Made me reflect on my persona's, my edge and what I'm going to do today.
I'm delighted by the synergies for you both! It was a simple post that I never imagined would spark a rich exchange.
Wow! Excellent question...I discover so much about myself! What I'm capable of, where I need help, or what isn't working. Thank you Linda. I love that photo of you. Fabulous! Keep going.
Hahaha. I hope people laugh at the photo. I certainly smile when I see it -- the hair, the shoulder pads, the cut of the jacket... Yes, learning where we need help and what's not working are great discoveries for more growth. Go Julie!
You nailed it! Total 80s and it definitely made me smile. :) You ROCKED IT!
Excellent question - and great photo! Miss those 1980's suits - said nobody EVER!
For me - I can't say the risks I've taken have always paid off... but the ones that haven't are the ones I've learned the most from. And it gets easier to recover the older I get.