Toxic People

As I’ve moved ever deeper into my calling, place and voice there are those I’m ditching for the sake of my wellbeing. I won’t be, for instance, giving my bile-belching siblings my forwarding address when we relocate to our new home. I’ve finally realized that some people are genetically programmed to discount me (I’m being gentle, here), and it doesn’t matter if they were born to the same parents as me. I had a dear friend and counselor ask me once, “Are you sure these are your siblings?”

Indeed.

This leads directly to the point I want to make here. Don’t be confused by names, titles, relationship or pedigree lines. Anyone – and I mean anyone – who leaves you feeling crushed like last year’s fallen leaves in the compost bin is not good for you.

They might have their own best friends and they might even tie their friends' shoe laces for them when their backs are gimped up. It doesn’t matter. If you feel like yesterday’s chewed gum when they’re around, then they’re bad for you. And that is the litmus test for deciding if somebody belongs in your own personal portfolio of friends-you-want-to-share-the-room with. Or the phone line. Or maybe even the same planet or at least continent.

Perhaps you are tortured by an idea of spiritual acceptance that renders your life as sacrificial fodder for the sadistic twists of others. I struggled for years under that delusional umbrella. But, no more.

Just think what your glorious life can do to bless the earth if it’s not all twisted up and crumpled like fallen gum wrappers?

Don’t sell yourself out like that. It’s a form of collusion with the devil to maim your own gentle spirit in the name of serving another, who – frankly – sees you as sticky goo under their sole.

Here’s what I know: When you’ve discovered someone is toxic to your soul, you really do need to stop inviting them to your dinner parties. Because they will always – and always – bring along a side of rat poison, sometimes cleverly dressed up as the most beautiful cranberry relish, made “just for yeuuw”.

When you’ve gagged this stuff down as many times as I have and been green-sick for days after, you come to realize that the potion they carefully custom fit “just for you” was taken from a book of Ill-Will.

Drop them.

Come back alive. We really, really want you that way.

Siblings

So many of you responded to me individually after my last entry about my father’s death. Thank you for your kind words. I was astonished at the number of you who expressly mentioned how lucky I am to have such good relations with my siblings! As one friend said, “It is so strange how we seldom can look to those from our own family for support.”

I’ve given this topic considerable thought – because my goal in these sharings is for authenticity that is potentially useful. So – here is what I want to share. From what I’ve observed in my decades of doing counseling work, it seems there are wide variations in regards to sibling relations. Some of you have close relations; for some of us -- these are our toughest places.

My belief runs along the lines (let’s see if I can capture this --) of karmic pattern playouts. In other words – we will each, somewhere or somehow get into situations most apt to push our deepest buttons. Some of us were born into a family that serves that function. For me (and for many of you, based on the feedback I got) - the family of origin serves as a constant playground for the reflection of our deepest wounds.

Consider this approach: welcome it. Not because it is fun – it is the hardest work I know of! But, because when we are bent on a path of waking up -- how better to do this than to tangle with those who see (and magnify) the hidden crevices of the worst in you that most people don’t have the glasses for?

I can truthfully say that the relations I have with my siblings are among the most difficult I have. I’ve spent many years turning this over and coming to peace with it. This is what I’ve learned thus far: I realize these relationships are not guarantees of love and support. And -- –I find it much saner to not expect that from my siblings.

In my case – again and again, I come back to the simple question of what I can learn – in this, and this – and this. About myself. About my life. And my relationship with Precious Life, itself. This is where I’m putting my money.

At the end of the day, it is – for each of us – our selves and only our selves we are accountable for. And – only the reverberations of our own hearts that define our existence. ANY one who serves the function of revealing what may be the “worst” in us is actually – believe it or not – on our side. Anyone who invites us to explore what is true – and what isn’t in such a way that we can deeply know for OURSELVES that we are innocent under it all – is promoting our freedom. What I discover – again and again – is a deep well of innocence under it all. A lot of delusional thinking – yes. But – innocence. In us all. I let the pain from attacks to provoke me to dig deeply enough inside of me to find that place. Oh, it is sweet freedom!

Sibs. Aren’t they great? Dig deeper ~