It’s been years since I’ve had a school age child at home, much less since I was in school myself, and I still get summer fever. Maybe it’s breakfast on the screened porch to the sounds of water gurgling and birds warming up their voices for the day. Maybe it’s the luxury of fresh basil in the back yard and tomatoes that make me close my eyes to savor them. Maybe it’s the slow pace of working from home.
Whatever the cause, I’ve been hibernating this summer, camped out in the cozy seclusion of my little hacienda that seems like a state park in the summertime.
Before I knew it, the sun had set on June and July. It’s the middle of flipping August already! The kids are back in school, for heaven’s sake.
And I haven’t posted a single blog.
I was going to. I had things to share with you. I wanted to connect with you.
And yet I let myself slip into the warm oblivion of summer fever one slow day at a time.
Sound familiar?
While it’s easy to write it off to seasonal delights, there’s a more sinister current at work here, too. Maybe you will recognize some of your own inner workings in my story.
I have some big things in the works, including a project that I’m thrilled to be doing with my friend and colleague Dr. Corinne Bell. We’ve been working away this summer on a retreat focused on the art and skill of developing - and sustaining - intimate connection in our most important relationships. We’re having a blast! It’s fun, exciting, evoking, exposing and inspiring to work with Corinne. While we’re working together, I’m in the zone.
There’s an equal and opposite force at work, though. It’s that nagging commentary that swoops in to swamp my boat. You know the drill. “You can’t do that! Who are you to think you’re such an expert? You'll never pull this off! Nobody is going to like this! You’re biting off more than you can chew!” And on and on.
But in the ease of summer it’s been a piece of cake to shush those critical voices with delightful distractions and the handy justifications that the grass must be mowed before the rain, conditions are ideal for painting the fence, the pool looks inviting, etc.
It’s been so sneaky that in spite of so many years of practice at catching that kind of thing in myself, I have been stunned to realize the level of my avoidance..
The truth is that none of us is immune to it. We all have heads with ammo at the ready to swamp our boats when we’re not looking.
The way that we think about ourselves and feel toward ourselves is at the heart of everything else that we do. Genuine self-esteem, our natural appreciation and compassion for ourselves, allows us to be at home in our own skin. It’s the antidote to the boat-swamping current that runs us off-course. It paves the way for us to give and receive love and to share our unique perspective and gifts freely.
The really good news is that our habits of thinking about ourselves can be changed. You can practice noticing the recurring thoughts that run through your mind about who you are, how you are, what you should do and be and what you should never do (like develop a retreat for fostering intimacy, for heavens sake!). And then you can challenge those old assumptions. Who knows? Maybe you’ll discover a new range of possibilities waiting for you. Most people do. I’ve been leading people go through that process for many, many years in a course call The Power of Self Esteem.
I'll be leading the class again on September 19-20 in Oak Ridge, TN. Maybe you'd like to come and see who you meet there.
Remember that the boat-swamping thing happens to all of us in some ways at some times. Lots of the time, we just drift for a while or ride out the storm, but it's a good idea to know how to get the helm back in your hands.