Bea V. Larsen . . . .Commentaries |
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Bea V. Larsen is a Senior Mediator at the Center for Resolution of Disputes in |
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Off Balance This entry was posted on 5/30/2009 6:27 AM and is filed under Personally Speaking. Since my husband, Len, died, I’ve become a reluctant traveler. I find reasons to put off planning a journey, even when I anticipate pleasure at my destination. This is not a response to 9/11. I’ve always been and continue to be comfortable in commercial flight. And I've long been accustomed to traveling alone, as Len and I often chose to visit our distant children separately, knowing we were able to connect with them more intimately in this way. So what's going on? In my determined effort to think this through (at least what's available to me on a conscious level), and get beyond this self imposed limitation, the source of my aversion is becoming more clear. It is humbling to realize, and then acknowledge, that it is embarrassment that is standing in my way. For years I've adhered to a personal rule never to visit anyone for more than two days, so I always travel light. But even lifting a small rolling suitcase into the overhead compartment with ease, has become a challenge, is at best awkward. Then, I anticipate arriving at an unfamiliar or ever changing airport, getting temporarily lost in a crowded maze, and not being absolutely sure which ground transport to use to get to my final destination. All of these imagined difficulties give me pause. Of course, none of this makes any sense. There are always kind people more than ready to give assistance, and I know that well. But, somehow when on my own I need to feel and appear completely competent and in full control. In some way, I think this new reticence may relate to the loss of my partner. I could disclose any vulnerability or failing to Len, and in the telling suffer no embarrassment at all, and receive comfort and reassurance. After confiding in him, or even just knowing I could later phone and report some misadventure, my travel troubles lost significance. So, recently I've begun to disclose these weaknesses, for so they seem, to my children and close friends. Doing so has generated such interesting conversations about the unique sources of embarrassment for others, sources quite unlike my own, but equally limiting, and some of significant import. This emotional state, embarrassment, is not shame for some hidden moral wrong, but simply a witnessed loss of dignity, seeking to avoid drawing unwanted attention to some perceived personal flaw. For others, as well as myself, these needs influence decisions that objectively make no sense, but allow us to hide these "defects" from public view. An important truth I recently read sparked my decision to put these thoughts into words: embarrassment is the death of possibility. And here's another: to take a step forward, you have to momentarily lose your balance. CommentsDisplay comments as (Linear | Threaded)
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