Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Question and Answer

I'm not good with bad news. I'm so not good with it, in fact, that I've been known to not want any news, even if it could be good... wonderful even... news, because it might be bad. Or just not the news I want to hear. It's an offshoot of the self destructive behaviour that leads me to not apply for contracts fearing I'll be told no, rather than taking a chance because I might be told yes.

Sometimes I over come it... otherwise I wouldn't have great jobs that take me to Caribbean islands... but sometimes, that demon is still there. It tells me not to bother. Tells me, no, not worth the risk. Rejection hurts, so don't even put yourself out there.

And I wonder when I became so frightened of failure, of rejection, of pain.

I ran an entire three year relationship on the premise that if I didn't ask if he loved me, he couldn't tell me he didn't, and therefore he couldn't hurt me. It was flawed logic at best, and I often find myself wishing I had asked for the bad news earlier. Earlier warned, earlier healed.

It's like not going to the doctor because you're afraid they might tell you there's something wrong. But what if you hadn't waited so long to follow up and whatever is so wrong now could have been treated or even cured if you'd just faced up to it earlier? A broken heart isn't cancer, but if you can screen for something while it will hurt, but not kill you, shouldn't you do it?

And often all it takes is a couple bold questions and really listening to the answers.

Of course it's frightening to put yourself out there. It's like standing on a ledge, hanging your foot over, leaning forward, and trusting that there's an invisible bridge that will catch you. You can't see the bridge, you have no way of knowing it's there, and it might not be. You could free fall in to space. You could land, face first, in your own humiliation... sharp, sticky, painful humiliation. Or the bridge could be there. You could take one scary step and find the air solid beneath your feet. It's no guarantee the bridge won't disappear at the next step, or the next one, or half way to the other side. But the bridge just might stay, solid and strong and supportive, all the way through your journey.

You have to trust that the bridge is there.

And you have to trust that if it isn't, the fall won't be that bad. You'll likely get a little bruised, maybe get some embarrassing slime on you, but you'll survive. The news can't be that bad, after all.

All I have to do is remember that, and have the bravery to ask a simple question. And listen carefully to the answer.