"I will be glad and rejoice in Your unfailing love, for you have seen my troubles, and you care about the anguish of my soul." Psalm 31:7
Today's live post with Gina included a candid conversation with Dr. Beverly David. She's the psychologist who was on a couple of weeks ago. She talked about brain retraining and breaking habits by re-routing entrenched neural pathways. While the conversation was focused around food since this is the main focus of Gina's group, brain retraining has been a key concept in my mental health recovery. The principals are the same. And they work! It just takes time, practice and patience.
After writing yesterday's post, the postcard memories of the times I felt ashamed flashed by. It was quite the stack. Cricket had a pile, adolescent me had one and so did the woman we became. I think the hardest part of seeing all these memories flash by is recognizing that shame was a fundamental lesson of my childhood. Brain training started early. By the time I reached adulthood, the shortcut to shame was seared into my neurons.
I tried not to get angry about it but I guess I am because a lot of the memories had no business being attached to shame. Is being self-conscious the same as being ashamed? Or is the self-consciousness a symptom of being ashamed of yourself? Yah, that's it.
My mom put me in highland dancing when I was six or seven for a couple of years. We lived in Nova Scotia and my dad loved all things Scottish. It was hell on earth for me, being on "stage." I already knew full well my physical shortcomings and was embarrassed to be jumping around like an idiot. (Apologies to Highland Dancers.)
I still have my sword. My dad got it for me when he was away on a business trip. It's hanging in my bedroom to remind me of God's armor. Now there's a redemption story!
The school held a dance recital. We used two taped together yard sticks as swords for the Sword Dance. Up on stage, I kicked mine and it went spinning across the stage to land on the yardstick sword of the girl dancing beside me. We both kept on smiling and dancing but I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. She let me know afterwards exactly what she thought of my dancing skills. I mean the point of a sword dance is to show how agile you are! Yup...childhood mountains can be bigger than life sometimes.
...but I kept on dancing. The story of my life.
Until I could dance no more and God rescued me. (Thankyouthankyouthankyou!)
Side, back. Side, front. Turn, two, three, four. The first steps of the Highland Fling, the first Scottish dance I learned. If this has been seared into my memory, it just goes to show how entrenched neural pathways can become.
But I am going to try and put the brakes on this shame thing. It doesn't belong to me any more. It's not mine to carry or bury or ignore or even accept as a dance partner.
So what if dancing isn't my greatest ability! I know I've got rhythm, I'm a musician! Except Jazz. Can't do Jazz...I don't have that much rhythm. Although, I've been playing around with trying to play two notes at once on the flute. It's a jazz thing and pretty cool to hear. Sorry, I digress.
Gina's program has been good on an emotional level. Even though I signed up for my friend, I am doing it for me. Not because someone else thinks I could lose a "few pounds" or because of not "measuring up" to a ballerina's physique. I am not doing it to prove my worth. I am doing it because my God has spent the last nineteen years teaching me exactly what my worth is.
We've already overcome so much. This is just one more step.
It will take time to disconnect the shame shortcut patterns in my brain but now I am aware of them, I can capture, cancel, and correct the thoughts when they come. I have the Word of God and Truth at my side to defeat this foe.
And a sword!
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