The dumb that smart women do is not what you think

A few weeks ago, I started writing a piece called “Why Smart Women Do Dumb Things”.  I figured, as a perfect example of the proposed title, I should have hundreds if not thousands of words to share on the topic, and I’d be able to whip it out in my funny-yet-slightly-irreverent style.  The problem was, while I got to 1200 words of recounting the tales of my glorious and brilliant mistakes, I was a little short on the real up-shot of the article, which was why we do dumb things.

So, I sat on it for a little while.  I had some conversations, I read some stuff, I pondered the puzzle… and then during my Sunday morning meditation (the closest thing I come to a church-ish type habit), a snippet of an argument I had with an ex came back to me.

He said, “You never do anything wrong, you can’t accept when you’ve screwed up.”  My natural response was that of course I screwed up and admit when I’m wrong, which is why we’re not together anymore – because I don’t just admit it, I try to fix it.  This was probably not the nicest stance to take, but I suspect you can get where I’m coming from.  However, the statement of his perception – that I never admitted to doing anything wrong – made me think about what I really did do wrong, both in the context of the relationship and outside of it.

Notwithstanding the usual faux pas of making gambles that didn’t pay off emotionally and acting against one’s higher intuition, I noticed a pattern about my not-wrongness.  As was reflected in nearly all of my relationships (childhood and onward), I was expected to be right.  If I wasn’t right, I was punished through diminishing words or violence/threats of violence, and sometimes these negative repercussions happened even if I was right.  So, frankly, I (and many other people like me) have been trained that being wrong and even admitting to being wrong is dangerous and bad.

In many cases, this might lead a person to adhere to a stance regardless of whether they knew it was correct or fallacious.  However, some of us decided instead to embrace every single mistake we made and learn everything we could from it, to develop bigger and better and more accurate methods for making decisions, and when as time went on, the mistakes-to-correctness ratio reached an amazing level of low-to-high.

Experience did this.

Daring to learn did this.

And I’ve now noticed that it’s only the people who refuse to learn, or even talk about the lessons sometimes, who make these kinds of statements.

See, I can think of countless times where I screwed something up and said, “Oh shit, my bad.”  And then I try to fix it.  So, clearly, I do not have a problem admitting to screwing up.  I just work really hard not to because, in addition to avoiding the programmed expectation of getting a monumental shit-storm for the trouble, I also don’t like taking the extra time to clean up a mess that could have been avoided with a little forethought, like making two or three trips to the kitchen instead of trying to carry all sixteen used place-settings at once.

The people who try to use this “you never admit to doing things wrong” argument almost always are trying to get out of admitting their own wrong-doing as well.  In this particular case, I was battling what appeared to be a remarkable attempt at revisionist history, because I had absolutely no reason to be bitter or upset at having had repeated requests for emotional needs go unmet nor to feel taken advantage of for basically being walked out on with little or no preparation, and I definitely had no right to get upset when my hard work and possessions were lost by the inactions or negligence of someone else (while my resources were tied up supporting the rest of the family singlehandedly).

(We all know the story, it’s a broken record, I’m just putting it here as a point of reference.)

One of the points that occurred to me during the writing of this piece is that the accusation of “always right” is one has to be examined very carefully.  In the context of that specific conversation, the statement meant that there was no longer any kind of effective communication to be done in that vein.  In the context of other supportive and respectful conversations, it’s a statement that can be made honestly and requires examination.

For instance, I have a very close friend with whom I talk nearly daily, and we compare notes on a wide variety of topics.  We are also accountability buddies, which means we call each other on our shit a lot.  The “never wrong” and “always right” dichotomy came up ages ago, and I was able to recognize the anxiety at admitting flaw.  (This was part of our “expecting perfection” cycle of talks.)  Even today, we work hard to support each other, to point out flaws, and then we help each other figure out solutions.

Ironically, I would not enjoy nearly the awesome mistake-to-correctness ratio I do now if it weren’t for her.

And that conversation with that ex was the opposite of a productive discussion, with the lobbing of such words coming only in the same literary paragraph as, “And this is what I need from you in the future…”

In the end, I realized that smart women generally do dumb things either because they haven’t yet made that mistake and so have to learn what they can from it, or else they’re counting on their partner to 1) honor their word, 2) be honest, 3) be respectful, or 4) some other combination of actions and words that equals doing what they say they will do with the appropriate motivation.  But, as I know we’ve all seen at some point or another, most people have learned that lying is easier than facing unpleasant emotional truths.  Maybe smart women fall for untruths or smoke-and-mirror routines because they have an old tape playing in the background, or maybe they don’t see the repercussions clearly just yet, or maybe they’re testing the boundaries of what they think they know about a person.

Me, I do dumb things periodically, and I’m usually the first one to point it out.  I figure, the less time I spend avoiding admitting to a mistake, the more likely I am to make that mistake again, and I’m a little done with repeating myself.  There are so many more far worthy mistakes left to be made.

Coming up for air, a general update

So much is going on, but some of it is slow and some of it is blazing past like crazy… sometimes it seems that the only thing that keeps me in the correct day is my calendar.

To bring those up to speed who have been watching:

Daniel’s neurology appointment last week went very well.  Dr. Susan is not an advocate of putting him on a ton of medications right off the bat, so we’re just going to increase the Keppra until we reach a certain point, and if it stops the seizures, we’ll keep with it until we need to change it up again.  All the work we’ve done so far with the diet and the supplements “saves us six months of guess-work” – we know they help, so there’s no “wait-and-see” there.

This weekend is the DOA Unnameable Film Festival, which will be showing Joe’s first short film, “Annotated“.  It’s a Lovecraft-themed festival, so wear your best tentacles.

I absolutely adore the new location for my Reiki classes, but it would be even better if, you know, more people showed up.  (I’m not bitter, just impatient. 😉 )  I had to raise the price a little so that I could pay for the space (now that it actually costs me something), and I’d like to be able to order more books.

Which reminds me that one lucky cuss will get the very first hardcover copy of “Reiki Your Leaves” if they get to me first.  It’s $35 and quite lovely.  (If I have no takers by the end of the week, I’ll probably keep it for myself.  😉  )  I should get that shipment in sometime today or tomorrow, so if you want it, let me know soon.  I’ll even sign it for you.

Let’s see…

I’m looking into fast-tracking my schooling so that I can finish my Bachelor’s early, and then I’m thinking about getting into video games more seriously by pursuing a Master’s in VG.  I’ve been in the industry for over five (six?) years now, it’s something I know well, and I have some really strong ideas of what I’d like to do in the long run with it…

And it makes me happy.  🙂

Okay, that’s enough of that, time to get back to work.  Mondays are Mondays.

New Reiki class location!

I finally found a wonderful little place to hold classes!

We will now be at the Dallas Meditation Center at 727 S Floyd Road in Richardson, Texas.  Classes will be from 7 pm until 9 pm every Thursday evening.  The price is going up a little to $20 (since it costs me a little more to have a good stable place), AND I’ll have some books for sale, including the first-ever hard-back copy.  Paperbacks are $18, and hardbacks are $35.

This week’s class will build on the last class, and we’ll be working on Forgiveness, Processing Emotions, and touching more on the differences between the First Degree and the Second Degree.

For my out-of-towners, I’m going to try to set up a U-stream event for it.  I’ll post more about that once I get it all set up.

If you missed the last class, you can see the first part of it here on YouTube.  It’s about an hour and a half, but highly amusing.  And just to be awesome about it, comment here or on Facebook with your count of how many times I say the word “shit”, and I’ll send a free copy of the e-book of “Reiki Your Leaves” to a handful of folks who get it right.  (Extremely high numbers of answers will be dealt with by a random drawing.)

And if you still need a hard-copy, the links to order it are here on Normality Factor, over there on the right.

Don’t forget to RSVP!  I hope to see you there with bells on!


Discount on “Reiki Your Leaves”

I just liked this goldfish. I was pretty proud of it.
Fish gotta swim

Lulu is running a promotion for a bit where you can enter the code BIG305 to get 20% off of your purchase price!

(Well… unless you’re ordering over $100 worth of books, because then you’d have to enter the code BIGGER305 to get 25% off of your purchase up to $500.)

So, if you were waiting for a sale to order your copy of “Reiki Your Leaves” in paperback or hardback, now would be the time!  Just click on the links to the right and it walks you through the rest.

And this would be REALLY good because I’m not going to be able to order another batch of books until next month, so you’re on your own until then.  I think Silver Pyramid only had two copies left after the last class.  The next class is already scheduled for July 21st at 7:00 pm, and, yes, attunements will be available again.

Here’s something really neat about Reiki:  you can get attuned to the “first degree” again and again and again without progressing to the second degree – until you’re ready.  You could come to every class and stay at your level indefinitely or move right on up, depending on your comfort level.  It’s kinda cool that way.  And, of course, with “Reiki Your Leaves” to guide your process, that could be sooner than you’d originally think.  🙂


Manifest Powers, ACTIVATE!

And so they did.

In the last 48 hours, I have gotten my fondest, most heart-felt wish granted (thank you so much, Girl-Who-You-Know-Who-You-Are!), I ended up with a Reiki class over twice as large as I thought it would be, AND I finally got the raise that I’ve been needing for a while AND my job defined itself better AND I have aced every assignment in school thus far…!

AND Daniel started identifying colors, thanks to the therapies we’ve been given him and Aunt Kira spending four hours with him yesterday working on them.

(Hey, that may not seem like much, but not being able to identify colors at 3-1/2 years old?  Not so great.)

And it feels like the dam has broken on the ideas and thoughts and strokes of genius on so many levels, I almost don’t know where to start.  But the awesomest thing is that I do know where to start.

See, yesterday when I found out that I had over 20 people showing up for the class, I went out and bought a nice big white board (among other things).  There are two reactions that people normally have to a big white blank space:  either they’re terrified to soil it or they’re desperate to fill it up.

Guess what I’m going to do?

Now, here’s the really amazing part.  I can directly correlate this rash of amazing good times with a direct and distinct pattern of using various LOA techniques.  This is really good because I can’t teach something I don’t believe in – and there’s no greater belief than having a little proof.

(More later when I finish writing this other thing, too.)