We all get disappointed sometimes. And mostly we follow a pretty simple process of feeling tremendously upset, thinking about it way too much, then finding some way to comfort ourselves and then moving on. With the help of some friends, some carb-heavy comfort food (or herb tea or martinis or double-chocolate
fudge crunch ice cream or whatever your narcotic of choice may be…) and perhaps a period of true unbridled wallowing, we get over it.
Mostly.
But some disappointments linger. Some become a permanent part of our internal landscape. Some even feel as though they have become part of our identity, and we almost can’t imagine letting them go, even though they cause us so much pain.
Here’s the good news: you’re reading this.
That tells me that you:
- Actually WANT to get over it
- Can at least sort of imagine that you COULD get over it
Welcome to Bouncing Back from Disappointment: Three Strategies to Really Get Over It.
I hope we’re going to make some good progress
here – I can’t guarantee anything, but I have seen people make some miraculous shifts in very brief amounts of time, so I
wouldn’t rule anything out. Now, it’s not possible to “unthink” something, and you can’t not feel the way you feel
about something. There’s no magic pill.
But you can
unscrew the bolts a little bit on the ideas that are keeping the experience both fixed and
painful.
(One possible exception: Grief. My
experience is that other kinds of pain and disappointment can shift and move
but grief – even old grief – just sweeps up on you and feels for all the world like it just happened this morning. So I want you to be working on a specific
frustration or disappointment or failure here, and I want you to pick one, but
if it’s a Grief, then maybe, just for the purposes of today, pick another, less
knotty one.)
Everybody have one particular disappointment in mind? Good.
Maybe it’s just a little one: I over salted the
turkey meatloaf the other night and I’m a little disappointed in myself.
Or a medium one: I’m still so bummed I
never finished college, or that we got outbid on that house.
Or a big one: I got fired.
Or a really big one: I still can’t
believe he or she had that affair.
Now, let’s get a
reading here:
On a scale of 1-5, how disappointed are you about your
thing?
1 = Actually, I’m mostly
over it
2 = Still stings a bit
3 = This causes me some pain when I think about it
4 = Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!!!!!!!
5 = I almost can’t imagine EVER being over this
Are you at a 1, 2, 3, 4 or 5? Whatever it is, just guesstimate and write
down the number.
It’s important that you be honest with yourself about your level of disappointment.
Sometimes we can get caught up in Enforced Optimism (“Oh, it’s all good…”) or Depressive Diminishment (“It’s no big deal”) and I don’t want that. I want you to haul the monsters out from under the bed and look them in the eye. Be straight with yourself. There’s no sense pretending that you feel all yippee-skippy when you don’t, and there’s no sense hanging on to a disappointment from which, you discover, you are really mostly already recovered.
STEP ONE: We Are Not Amused (but maybe we could be…)
So the first thing I want you
to do is give this event a new, more disastrous name. Really exaggerate. Unleash your Inner Drama Queen. Go for it. Write it down.
“I blew the presentation,” could be
re-named “I’m Headed For The Poorhouse For Sure!!!”
“I fell off my diet,” becomes “I Am
The Walrus, Koo Koo Ka Choo”
“I didn’t finish my novel,” becomes “I Will Never Be A Real Writer Ever Ever Ever Ever Ever”
Got it?
Be melodramatic. Make yourself laugh.
(It’s great if you can do this with a trusted friend who can laugh with you.)
How does it feel to give it this extreme name? What do you notice? What shifts?
Next, I want you to write down a really minimizing name for your event. Brush it off. Spin it like a crooked politician. Or imagine you have an eccentric great-aunt who hears about your disappointment and just waves it away with a word. What does she call it?
“Nobody’s buying my product,” becomes “Well, This Has Been Some Fascinating Market Research…”
“I’ll never get another date,” becomes “Oh, Pish Posh, Silly Old Dating, Who Cares?”
“I’m chronically disorganized,” becomes “I Am So Creative With Where I Put Things!”
Again, write them down and notice how each one feels. (Don’t worry – you can always go back to the same way you’ve always felt. No pressure.)
We’re
just experimenting with perspectives here, so you don’t need to actually believe your new names for this event, but you do need to acknowledge that there may be some alternatives to the lonely, empty feeling you’ve allowed the memory of this event to trigger in you.
If you like this Step, then keep going:
– What would your dearest, best friend call this event?
– What would your Guardian Angel call it?
– What would a poet call it?
– What would a late-night infomercial spokesperson call it?
– What would a gypsy fortune-teller call it?
Experimenting with different names can remind you that when it comes to your own life, you are in a position of choice.
You get to decide what you think about it.
And that can move you from feeling like a disappointed victim to feeling like the confident, empowered, creative genius that you truly are.
NOTE: I’m curious – what names did you come up with? Please comment because I’d love to hear them!
Coming soon: Step Two!
Ode To The Small Business Practitioner, or, Oh, You American Dreamer
And as you stand there
Wondering
About your Search Engine Optimization and
Curious if this new Seminar might really be of some help and
Kicking Yourself A Little for all the Work that is piling up as we speak
Let us now praise you.
You, the Wondering, the Curious, the Kicking Yourself A Little.
You, the Founder, President, CEO, Chief Cook and Bottle Washer who WILL
Double your sales this year.
You, the American Dreamer.
You are made of stern stuff.
You hopped off the Merry-Go-Round
(or maybe you were pushed)
And now you live in this New World of
Checking Google Analytics and
Waking up with a Great Idea at 4am and
Telling your family: Yes, I’ll be right there – I just have to do this
One
Quick
Thing.
And while you may grimace when you hear your friends say,
“Wow, it must be great to work in your pajamas” and
“Wow, it must be so great to be your own boss” and
“Wow, are you lucky!”
It’s true.
It is great to work in your pajamas and
Be your own boss and
Yes
You are lucky.
Lucky to be here now in this time of Unprecedented Opportunity.
Lucky to have this passion for Your Work.
And even though you might start making
Hysterical Hyena-like Sounds the next time some Pessimist mutters, “Well, in this Economy…” and even though
The Loneliness of being The Boss can sometimes be a hot, shimmering desert of aching solitude and
Even though
Even though
Even though…
You wouldn’t have it any other way because
Now you know what you did not know before.
Now you know:
Always. Back. Up.
And now you know:
Always have someone proofread, especially the dates and the phone numbers.
And now you know:
Always test all the Action Links
(And don’t just hit the “send test” button because I think that sends from a different server so you need to actually create a “find people” test list made up of dummy addresses that you set up in Yahoo and Gmail and your own webmail and, if you have to, even AOL, so you can see what people are actually getting in both HTML and Text-Only – trust me, it’s totally worth the hassle.)
And now you know:
Always trust your instincts. Always.
Because it is your instincts that have
Brought you this far and
It is your instincts that will
See you safe home.
So dream on, you Gladiators of the Kitchen Table.
And as soon as you can figure out
What the hell API integration actually is,
I have no doubt that you will do it.
You are living The Dream.
You are living Our Dream.
Long live this Vibrant, Gritty, Hard-Fought, Hard-Won, Capricious, Eclectic, Heart-Pounding, Soul-Stirring, Headache-Inducing, Detail-Oriented, Incessant, Unstoppable, Terrifying, Tantalizing,
Who-Needs-A-Penthouse-Of-Chrome-And-Glass-
When-Dad’s-Old-Chevy-Runs-Just-Great?
Why-Don’t-They-Teach-This-Stuff-In-School?
Jump-On-In-The-Water’s-Fine and
I’m-Sure-Next-Quarter-Will-Be-Better and this is
So-Much-Harder-Than-I-Could-Have-Thought
So-Much-Better-Than-I-Ever-Could-Have-Imagined
Heartfelt
(Bloodied But Unbowed)
American Dream.
© 2010 Sam Bennett I All Rights Reserved
By The Way, You Look Really Great Today
Click here to buy this t-shirt for the grouch in your life.
IN PRAISE OF THE GRUMPY
And as you stand there
Arms crossed
Managing to look both infinitely patient and impatient at the same time
Trying not to roll your eyes and wonder how much longer all this will take
Let us now praise you.
You: the grumpy, the grouchy, the grumbling.
You: the beleaguered and the put-upon.
You: our hidden hero.
Because while you are
Short-tempered with the witless
Furious with the shallow and
Yelling at the television
It is only because you are so thoughtful
That everyone else seems so thoughtless.
And while you insist that you do not care about
What anyone is wearing or
What anyone said or did or
What so-and-so said or did back,
Nor do you give two figs about
The disenfranchised urban-dweller of today or
The illiterate or
The underprivileged of some foreign land or
Whomever it is we’re supposed to be caring about today and that
You will not, under any circumstances,
Attend the choir concert or
The holiday party or
The 12-step meeting or
The neighborhood street fair or
The fancy dress ball or
The class reunion – for God’s sake especially not the reunion – and that
You mustn’t be relied upon for
Donations or
A ride home or
Free advice or
Help moving in to your new townhouse or a
Damn
birthday present (what are we, six years old that we still have to give
people birthday presents just because they managed to get born and stay
alive?) or
Whatever it is that all those people with all those
Outstretched hands
Seem to want
You must know that we all know
That you do, indeed, care and that
You will, if pressed, attend and that
We all do rely
On you.
We can tell that you care,
Because you so assiduously refuse to conform to
Some greeting-card version of caring
And instead insist on caring about us as individuals.
You remember the conversation we had about
Ry Cooder’s guitar playing, and
Six weeks later you slip us a
Homemade cassette tape with no label.
You shun the collection plate, and yet
You shove a hundred dollars into the Youth Group’s coffee can
(A check, of course – no sense missing out on the tax deduction just because you had a weak moment.)
And when you go to greet us,
You look us in the eye and take our full measure
And if you should
Notice that we look a bit sad,
You will grab our hand and
Kiss us roughly on the cheek and say,“You OK, darlin’?”
You might grouse about Christmas Eve,
But you do love Christmas morning.
And while you would never voluntarily look at a
Photo album,
You forever hold a picture in your mind of
How we looked in
That Halloween costume
That prom dress
That uniform.
And we know you will attend
(Quit squirming – this poem isn’t that much longer)
Because underneath your self-proclaimed
Disdain for all humanity
You are curious.
Intensely, insatiably, incorruptibly curious
And while you act repulsed
I suspect you are truly fascinated by us –
This clamoring horde of strangers you are compelled to share the planet with.
OK, OK: with whom this planet you are compelled to share.
Good grief you can be a pain sometimes.
And oh, how we rely on you.
And finally,
While you have largely succeeded in getting yourself off of
The phone tree
(That tactic you had about boring everybody silly with the excruciating details of your latest Water Filtration Project did wonders for removing you from any thinking hostess’ guest list)
We do still rely on you.
Oh how we rely on you.
Oh how we rely on you.
You are our voice of sanity
Our comrade-in-arms
Our truth-telling ally in a world of endless bullshit.
You are our hidden hero
Deceptively chivalrous with
Your tender heart clad in dented armor.
And you must know that
When you are gone
We miss you.
So go ahead and
Sneak out at intermission and
Have an extra drink to get you through the reception and
Just turn and walk away from the
Over-gesticulating and the infuriatingly self-righteous.
Save yourself from these petty cruelties so that
When the world becomes just too much for us poor mortals to bear
We can rely on you to save us.
Oh how we rely on you.
Oh how we rely on you.
Oh how we rely on you.
Now stand still, because we’re going to give you a nice, big hug.
© Sam Bennett
By The Way, You Look Really Great Today
AN ODE TO THE OVERWHELMED
And as you stand there
Late again
Because you forgot to allow time to park
And the elevator was slow
And you left 10 minutes late to begin with
With your shoes that pinch
And your pants that are a little too small
Since you started eating white bread again
And as you paw through your bag
Looking for the suite number
That you’re not sure you wrote down to begin with
Let us now praise you.
You, the untidy.
You, the careless.
You, the easily distracted by sparkly things.
The money you spend on late fees alone
Could feed a family in Africa –
Which reminds you that you meant to send in the kids’ Unicef money and
Forgot.
And that despite your best efforts,
You rarely eat a square meal,
You almost never get enough sleep
And exercise seems like a word that magazines have developed
Just to make you feel bad about yourself.
But you are good and brave.
You, flying by the seat of your pants
Making it work
Putting out fires
Saying your prayers
And dancing your dance of now and later and maybe and
I’ll–have-to-call-you-back-on-that-could-you-send-me-an-email-to-remind-me-to-call-you-back-on-that?
As innocent as each morning’s sunrise,
You are a fount of good intentions.
Your good humor is as graceful as a baby giraffe,
Even if that joke you were trying to make to the hotel clerk fell flat
And your toast at the wedding came out sounding a little….funny.
But you have gifts that no one knows about.
You have the strength to bend in the wind
You have the joyful spirit that loves a good belly laugh,
You have the wisdom to understand that everything will all come out all right in the end and
You have the faith to light a candle rather than curse the darkness.
That is, if you could find the book of matches from that romantic restaurant that you went to for your anniversary but since you didn’t have a reservation they made you wait at the bar for half an hour during which you had two appletinis and the rest of the night is a bit of a blur.
So much for the overpriced lingerie.
You are beautiful.
You are beautiful.
Frazzled and overworked and underpaid
You are the one who forgot your wallet
And forgot your receipt for the dry cleaners
And forgot your keys which you just set down five seconds ago, so where could they possibly have gone?
But you never forget to say, “I love you”
And you never forget to give a big smile to that nice parking guy
And you never fail to show endless patience when the
Too-tightly wrapped and overly-conscientious start to offer their
Oh-so-helpful suggestions about how you might feel better if you would just learn to alphabetize your spice rack.
You are beautiful.
So, wear the lingerie on Monday for no reason.
And why not just refuse to participate in the bake sale this year?
And give yourself a compliment for something you did well today.
Because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.
© Samantha Bennett
PS. There’s still time to register for the Get It Done Teleclass – we begin this Tuesday, May 12th at 11:45am (Pacific Time) call in once a week for 12 weeks and get motivated, do homework, complete the project that will bring you closer to your best life. If you can’t make it, you can always listen to the recording. Results and satisfaction guaranteed. Feeling tempted? Yeah, this is going to be fun. Go here to learn more: https://therealsambennett.com/TOA/Next_Workshop.html
PPS. You can buy the t-shirt
by going here: http://www.zazzle.com/easily_distracted_by_sparkly_things_tshirt-235344511073625260
The Solitude Cure
There is no real cure for loneliness.
Except to transform it into solitude.
Solitude is remembering that there has never, ever been a single (solitary) person like you.
You arrived alone
You’ll die alone.
And in between those two things, you will be having a discreet, one-of-a-kind experience of the world.
Everyone has that “among them but not of them” feeling, at least sometimes. And creative people feel it more often, I think, than most.
Everyone yearns for connection, comfort, fusion, total immersion. We read books where people fall in love and “become as one” and we think we should have that feeling ourselves.
But that only happens in fiction.
So.
The cure is to embrace the separation. Enjoy the space. Hold yourself slightly apart. After all, you already feel apart, so go ahead and exaggerate that feeling a little bit. Observe the world around you. Retreat into your own skin and observe you having your very own point of view on the world.
That isolated, personal point of view is where your art comes from. So go ahead and create something inspired by this particular vantage point. It doesn’t have to be any good, and you don’t ever have to show it to anyone. Just go ahead and let something flow.
And now you have the real cure for solitude: art.
For years I resisted the word “perfectionist.” I thought that word sounded simplistic and anal-retentive. It reminded me of surface-obsessed people running white gloves over lampshades and endlessly rearranging boring red long-stemmed roses in cut crystal vases.
“Perfectionism” sounded like a hobby for people who didn’t have anything better to do with their time.
But at the same time, I found myself exhibiting the following behaviors:
Now, it’s true that the above behaviors are exhibited by almost everyone at one time or another. And for an artist, well, “achieving the impossible” is practically our favorite thing.
Some of the greatest works of all time were the result of some artist pouring totally insane amounts of money, time, energy and life-force into a project everyone else thought was totally crazy.
But perfectionism wasn’t causing me to pour energy into my projects; perfectionism was preventing me from working.
Has that ever happened to you? How did you break the cycle?
