Hello, reader. How are you doing? Recently I learned that my attention is valuable. I don’t owe it to anyone. In fact, it’s more valuable than gold! Gold grew in many caverns. My attention only grows one place.
I had been compulsive about getting back to people. Responsiveness was something I carried too far. Oops!
Now I understand that my attention is valuable, one of the most precious resources I have, so it’s ok to leave people on read (or unread). I can protect my energy for what I actually want to do and need to do. Ignoring messages isn’t just for trying to dodge evil.
Bids for my attention are everywhere. I’m good at ignoring adverts and noise from capitalism. But individual human beings I can be bad at ignoring.
Every human being is a manifestation of the Divine. I want to show up for God– show up for Love. But not in a way that drains me or leaves me hurt and used.
questions for discussion
Do you understand that your attention is valuable?
How deep do you understand it?
Is it painful for you to ignore txts, emails, phone calls, the cardboard signs of spangers, random people who say something to you on the street?
What do you socialize for? What’s your goal, if any?
What are you looking for in your relationships?
Where do you find the divine?
fair hurt vs unfair hurt
Socializing is exhausting, and it takes me a long time to recover. I need my energy for so much more than giving to others. Definitely a few people I want to be close to and interdepend with. But most people, I can’t spread myself thin. No, no, no, no. no.
Last night when I went to bed, my self asked myself, “Please protect me,” over and over. It was not the usual self-talk. Hmm, what’s going on, body?
If I ask Jaguar, angels, mason bees, grasshoppers, and butterflies to get between me and what’s hurting me, they will. If I ask ancestors to protect me, they will.
It’s a matter of the decision. When is enough enough? How much is someone allowed to hurt me?
Always I bring my big heart and my amazing capacity to love. The flip side of my capacity to love is my capacity to be hurt.
Relationship is a collaboration. I sign up for some amount of struggle. But there’s fair hurt and unfair hurt. I sign up for complicated difficulty in conflict, not manipulation or being thrown under the bus. I sign up for missteps and mistakes, not selfish avoidant fuckery. We could fight about the details, but at some point, the pattern is clear. How many chances am I supposed to give?
mama
My mom gave a lot of chances to the men who abused her. My mom’s choices inform mine, for better and worse. She had a huge heart, and she died a couple decades younger than I prefer, her life’s blood spent on abusive men.
I’d rather not repeat her behavior. If that’s my fate, I’m changing it.
My attention is valuable, and everywhere I choose to point the beam of my intelligence is blessed by its light.
