Sunday Story...Tribes

Sunday Story…Tribes

A long, long time ago in a place not all that far from here there was a very young man who taught at an early age to like people and make friends. And if someone new came into the school or the neighborhood he went out of his way to make the new person feel like they had a friend in him. It was part of who he was; part of what he thought was expected of him. He brought them into his friends and his groups and treated them like they were important and welcome in the community. It felt like the right thing to do.

Someplace along the way, probably around age 9 or 10 this young man noticed a couple things happening. And these things had him feel sad, lonely, isolated and ostracized. What happened was pretty simple; the new friend left often taking some of the community or group with them, branching off and creating a new group or a sub group that our young man was not welcome into. In other words after bringing the newcomer in, he was forced out by the newcomer.

What this young man made that mean was this: I don’t belong. Even when it looks like I belong I really don’t. And if I befriend someone they will leave after using me to gain access to the people and groups they really need access to. And if I am welcomed into a group or a tribe I will always be the outsider, the interloper who will be expendable once his gifts, skill and talents have been replaced or used up.

Just because you make something mean something it does not make it true or a fact. It is just the meaning you have assigned to those events. Someone else may give those same events a completely different meaning. It is part of our nature as humans…to create meaning.

As I might imagine you have already guessed that the young man in the story is me. As I look out over the past years (and there have been more than a few) the realization has dawned that I have been living out of this “story” for most of my life.

In other words this has been a theme in my life…not belonging. For a long time I have felt like I didn’t have a home. Not a real one…one where people see me and appreciate me. I have spent so long keeping different parts of my life from touching one another that it feels like 4 or 5 jigsaw puzzles that are somehow connected but I am missing the pieces that will connect the puzzle into a cohesive picture. Each puzzle is complete but I know that when they are all hooked together there will be a new and more impactful picture. The question is now: what do you do to find the pieces that will connect the whole picture?

I have been looking for a “tribe” for a long time. I have found many tribes that I fit into at least partially. These are the places and people who seem to welcome me (at least the parts of me that are visible to them). But after awhile I start feeling like I really don’t belong. Like I have missed the “joke”, the inside information that the rest of the group is privy to. Again this is not the truth; it is only the story, or the meaning I have given to the events.

The fact of the matter is until I allow my own truth to be seen and heard I cannot really be present in any place I show up. Until I advocate for myself clearly and with power there is no way to belong anywhere. I would just be floating along, like a piece of flotsam on the tide, showing whatever face needs to be shown at the moment. So that would be the first connecting piece: be my own advocate.

The first piece is closely tied to the second piece: show up fully without fear of approbation. What that means is that instead of a toll bridge between the different elements of my life we are going to bring the borders right up next to each other. My life should be connected not disconnected. When all those disparate pieces become a complete picture it will be easier for the tribe to accept and understand and appreciate me. Or not. Because not all tribes are the right fit.

The last connecting piece is: give up the story. The story that says I don’t belong. The story that says I am not worthy of this or that tribe. That is all that is: a story. This is where we get to change the past. What happened is what happened. What I made that happening mean is all about me. I get to change the story. I get to decide what those events mean to me. And doesn’t it make more sense to tell a story that will serve me in beneficial ways?

So now the end of the story might go something like this: I am a connector. One of the most useful things I do in any group is to connect people in ways that serve them and the greater good. I help people find the places and tribes that will serve them and their chosen vision and goals. I belong and I show up fully and I am accepted for the gifts, skills and talents I bring to the table.

What’s your story? Does your story help you or are you living out of a story a 10 year old told him or her? Wouldn’t it be better if you told yourself a grown up story? A story that has the kind of meaning that will truly serve who you want to be tomorrow?

Go ahead change your past and create the future you choose.

Namaste
John
“Teaching Focus, Inspiring Transformation”
www.martialartsnevada.com

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