How I Learned to Love Humble Pie

Ray Dalio has made me see what I’m dealing with here: a great lesson in humility.

I cannot tell you how it feels when people who once knew me as a powerful and beautiful woman come into the place I work and recognize me. I can see their shock at my aged face, pudginess, and reduced circumstances when they realize I am there to serve them. No need to repeat here the awkward conversations or relay the avoidant eyes – on both sides – of these encounters. Three people I once knew have come in and pretended they did not know who I was.

I wonder how many former friends or coworkers have seen me that I didn’t notice? Or who will come in and see me today?

This is My Reality

I have crashed and fallen down to a new low. There is no point in mooning over what I’ve lost. I have documented it all for eight years now. Such is my sorrow. I wonder if these people from my previous lives can see the sadness behind my shy smile? If they know that all my new wrinkles and weight are from the defeat and losses I’ve suffered since they’ve seen me last?

What makes it worse is that I did all this to myself. I had such an outsize ego that I thought I was invincible. Not so great now, am I?

Standing at the Crossroads

Ray says we have a choice in our lives when we get to that crossroads – and we will all find ourselves standing at the crossroads at some point. We can choose a safe and boring life OR dare to take a challenging path that leads to a great life – one of our choosing.

I’m so risk-averse that if I’d known it would be this hard, I would never have started down this road. What irony! This is why I am NO hero. Safe and boring sound so sweet right about now. Having my air conditioning conking out, my yard in an overgrown mess, my body aching from trying to move furniture alone, my friends falling by the wayside as I realize I want more from these relationships, carrying the weight of my own financial survival alone…well, it feels like too much to bear.

If I had been able to turn back, I’m sure I would have by now. Gone running back to my hidey-hole like a gopher.

But am I done kicking and screaming over the past?

What Exactly IS a Goal?

Google: “Goal = the object of a person’s ambition or effort; an aim or desired result.”

For several years now, I’ve been unable to make a goal. In order to have a goal, I would have to actually have a dream and I didn’t. What did I want? Nothing. To be left alone like a wounded animal. I think I was in a depression.

Since I Gave Up Hope, I Feel Much Better

There was at least one other time in my life where I felt something similar. It was after we moved – at my insistence, no less – back to our hometown. Having carved out a life for myself in the small town we’d been in for 10 years, I hadn’t realized how much I would lose by leaving: my beautiful heritage house (“old shack” as my spouse called it), my two best friends, my life as a homeschooling Mom, my creative freedom.

I found myself in a new life where I worked alongside my spouse every day for very little money doing menial work. Now I put my best spin on the work, which was cleaning or shovelling or mowing, etc. I would tell myself that I was really helping the people in the office because I wiped the germs off every keyboard and every mouse so carefully for them. As I polished the owner’s framed diplomas, I’d remind myself that everyone had their role to play.

Reality was a real kick in the pants, however. One Sunday, as I was bent over the toilet scrubbing, the business owner herself came in with her young son. They walked past me without saying “hi” and then she actually pulled the kid back and turned him to face me. She said, pointing at me, “You see this? This is why you need to go to school.”

I had become a cautionary tale.

Bugs Bunny: “And remembah: you asked fer it!”

It bothered me that I was unable to be available to my kids as much as I wanted, that I didn’t have enough free time to write, and worst of all, I could see no way out.

I remember “waking up” in the truck on the way to a job, my spouse driving as he went over the practical plan for the day, the week, the year…again. I hadn’t said anything but, “Mmmm-hmmm,” for how long? What was I doing here?

Then a friend gave me an idea: I needed to go back to school. I would take the shortest program that would make the most amount of money when I finished. This way, I could help our family out of the financial rut we were in.

And Baby, that’s just what I did.

The End of What Was

I feel like I’ve mined through my past and have reconciled it all into my being: all the relationships, the friendships, the experiences, the music, the jobs. Everything is a part of me now. Hell, maybe it always was.

Jimmy Morrison’s beliefs notwithstanding, this is not the end of what is, only the end of what was.

What’s Next to the Moon?

Today I made not one but two goals. One thing they don’t tell you in business school – to be able to set a goal, you need to believe in the future. Hopelessness is not conducive to goal-setting.

The retrospectives, the soul-searching, the rumination? Absolutely necessary for me to be able to move forward.

I didn’t want to throw everything out. That’s not how I roll. I keep everything that is useful – or beautiful – or that holds memories I love. In my house you will find things tucked away in small boxes among the books on my shelves or in files at the back of my cabinet. A crystal from a chandelier I bought for my first apartment, a tiny faceless figurine I made from clay during a creative time in my life that reminds me of an old friend, a hand written note from my ex-husband, a rare medal I won in sports (ok, so it was for “most improved” – I still enjoy coming across it!), letters from old friends and family tied neatly with ribbon from the days when people would actually write to each other, mementos from my kids’ lives and even my own childhood.

They are kept and loved, despite the many exhortations of the gentle Marie Kondo. I can’t do it – toss things away just because they are from before.

I Want to Remember Before

I earned all that – I lived it! I really DID play ball at one time in my life (no one would believe it now). I really DID sing in a band (several, in fact). I really DID live in Vancouver. I really DID manage 40 people. I really DID have a radio show – two in fact! So many things I’ve done, and seen, and felt.

There is no need to sift through my life anymore. I know everything is safe and ready for discovery again one day but for now, I am ready to let things rest. I feel like I was making a very large pie out of all my memories. Just as maniacally as Richard Dreyfus and his mashed potato and chicken wire mountain in “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.”

My pie has been painstakingly assembled and baked to a crisp. Turns out it was Humble Pie. Who knew?! In fact, it’s the only thing I’ve been eating for about eight years. David Wilcox says, “You need to eat a slice of humble pie and the longer you wait, the worse it’s gonna taste.”

Got pretty rank before I was finished! About the only good thing I can say about it was that it was my own creation. All the good things in my life went into that pie but, yes, the sour mistakes, too.

This is why I loved my humble pie. *burp*

OK, now I have two very modest goals so that’s a start. Looking forward to the next pie. Geez! I hope it isn’t as difficult to make or choke down as the last one was!

Thinking I might try something sweeter. How about a wholesome apple pie?!