on worthiness

McCabe and me, in San Francisco.

On Monday, I read about Brene Brown’s worthiness week and jumped right in–sign me UP! I had already prepared a series of blog posts for this week so that the e-books would all be in one place, but then this inspiration to write about worthiness hit and I decided I’d just do more than one post, some days.

And then Monday, it didn’t happen. And Tuesday, it didn’t happen. And Wednesday, it didn’t happen. And while I am extremely busy these days (far busier than I ever was working my “normal” job; keep that in mind if you’re planning to jump ship at some point) I also sensed that deeper down there was something going on, some point of Resistance.

Today, it occurred to me that there is some part of me that still hesitates to claim the places where I don’t feel worthy. Some of that is due to not wanting to make disheveled a credential. I hesitate to talk about things in written form until I feel I can verbalize them in some way, because goodness knows my words are often enough misinterpreted even when I think I’ve got a clean idea of how to verbalize what I’m thinking. But no–this time, it was not “waiting for the words to come clearly,” it was “I don’t want to publicly claim my feelings of unworthiness.”

Especially because–ahem–when I let go of my job a few months ago, a new area of unworthiness popped up for me, and totally unexpectedly, and it didn’t start when I decided to let go of my job while I was still finishing up the last few months–it started right when I was officially working for myself. Basically, here it is–

Sometimes, I feel unworthy of working for myself. Like I’m having too much fun and getting away with something. Like it’s “not fair” that I would be doing XYZ with my life while someone else isn’t liking their job or their life. Then, when the inner critic is done with that, in begin the messages that I’m ridiculous because “there are more important things in life to have drama about–people have cancer. People are losing their house. People’s kids die. GET OVER YOURSELF.”

(P.S. RE-Do, PLEASE!)

Now. Part of the reason I hesitate to claim the feelings of unworthiness in this space (because I have claimed it elsewhere) is because I don’t want to be read as “living there.” Sometimes coaching clients will feel really sad about something and then they tell themselves, “Well, I don’t want to wallow.” My response is that wallowing = “living there,” in the anger, the grief, the resentment, whatever. I won’t support living in that anger/grief/ick feeling, but I do support visiting for the purposes of getting it out of your system. In my view, it’s totally normal to cry when you feel sad, vent when you feel frustrated, and process out anger when you’re pissed. All of those can happen without “living there.” It can sound so BIG to read someone claim their feelings of unworthiness and then, in that 2-dimensional way that we human-beings are prone to, assume that that’s the entire story.

It’s not.

And yet, I recognize the healthiness of verbalizing and claiming my feelings of unworthiness–that sometimes, I really do feel like I am undeserving of something, like I received something and cheated somehow to get it, even though of course, there was no cheating. There was/is a hell of a lot of hard work, setbacks, challenges, re-dos, and feeling my inner little girl rise up and get frustrated because she just wants to “get it, already!”

You know: To GET it. To understand everything, before giving it time for understanding.  To know all the answers–NOW!

I really liked this, from Brene: “Yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn’t change the truth that I am worthy of love and belonging. “ 

So, having talked about unworthiness, I would like to talk about worthiness.

I have been thinking about this: “When I give to others what I would most like to receive, my whole world shifts.” This is something that popped into my head last week and it lifted my heart. I believe that the things we most want to receive are things like compassion, second chances, love, belonging, trust that our ideas have merit, opportunities for expression (creative and otherwise). And inclusion–big time with inclusion. I think that we want to feel like a part of something that is even larger than ourselves. A group, a cause, a belief system. 

I was thinking of “When I give to others what I would most like to receive…” and how that thought takes me so easily out of playing small, waiting for something external to me to change. I want to feel worthy in my life–and I want others to feel worthy, too. So how might I invest myself in that? How might I do something for the collective whole by putting something out there that is a direct contradiction to Stories about worth?

I am worthy of inclusion.

I am worthy of inclusion even if I make mistakes.

I am worthy of the time to have my mistakes explained to me and I am worthy of second chances.

I am worthy of time to rest.

I am worthy of a career I love.

I am worthy of supporting myself financially with that career. I am worthy, in fact, of not living hand-to-mouth doing it and even going beyond that. It is okay.

I am worthy of a rest, of taking a break.

I am worthy of deep, true truth-telling and of being able to tell my truth.

I am worthy of my partner’s love (and he loves so big that to be quite honest, sometimes his kindness tooootally triggers my “worthiness spots.”)

I am worthy of all the good in life.

And so are you.

What do you want to declare yourself worthy of receiving–that you would also like to open yourself to giving to others?