No Need To Get Big For Your Britches Missy, Or, Saturday Morning 8:01am
I started to call this post Banishing Arrogance, but multi-syllable words are a poor way to avoid that pride/fall thing. Let’s try this: I’m working on understanding that I don’t know what I don’t know.
Bit of background, in which “you” should be read as “I.” If you deconstruct your way through a complex problem once, your mind might be dumb enough to decide that wasn’t just luck, and sneaky enough to whisper, “I’ve got your back,” in hopes of future world domination. Spoiler: not 100% reliable. So, recently I’ve reopened the door to topics I had thought I understood. Can I just say that humility is hard?
First, I’m listening to this audiobook. My inner judgment police grow slightly nauseous at the rainbow font and a forward by an artist I otherwise love, but an open mind has to tell the guard to stand down.
Terence Real is a couples therapist, primarily, while the relationship I’m working on is in my family of origin, but even so it’s been useful. Psychological constructs aren’t new to me, or to you, I’m sure But this book has a) provided language for the worldview shift I experienced in caring for others (my children, my mother, and even my father, and b) increased my understanding of what we get from our parents–beyond that which should have been encouraged, to that which should, perhaps, have been discouraged.
Little ideas, but they unlock internal doors.
Second, and here’s a nice conceptual leap to remind us that being human is a kick, Sue at Une Femme “did my colors.” She’s really good at it. Also fun and nice, but you knew that. She’ll be launching this service formally after her August blog break. Stay, as they say, tuned.
After decades assuming soft cool colors suit me best, demonstrably, at least for my skin tone, soft warm colors for the win. I’m an Autumn. Jaw on floor.
New information doesn’t always require you throw out the old, even if it contradicts what you “knew.” Do I now rid myself of all the other blues in my closet? Discard all pink? Not my plan. You aren’t duty-bound to dress for your skin tone, but it’s really (High WASPs sniff in mortification at the word) empowering to know how you can.
As a first step, when I buy “white” t-shirts, I might look for more of an oyster than pure white. Second, let’s say I need another pair of Eileen Fisher lantern pants, I might try the color they call Seaweed. Third, if I attend a wedding, I might look for a dress in yellow.
I mean, crazy.
But I can always tell if clothing will be good for me when it revvs my imagination. And that yellow conjures up a boatneck dress with pleated skirt, to wear with camel Roger Viviers that I don’t own yet either, and may not exist. Oh also gold earrings.
So, in the end, I found the color session mapped whole new neural patterns. Hmm. Remember humility. Having my colors done offered me a new internal space, well-equipped for imagining. Better. But there’s still room to learn.
Have a wonderful weekend, my dear friends.
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