I had a conversation with myself while running on the treadmill the other day that was prodigious. (That's just a big word for eye-opening. I liked the sound of it.) It's not unusual for me to talk to myself while running or doing anything else in all honesty. But I seem to have much more clarity in my thoughts when I am in the throws of running and this was one of those moments when I finally understood something that I'd been pondering for a good while.
Here's what I discovered: I'm no good at people.
I like people and everything, or at least most people, but I'm not so good at understanding them. I figured out that I expect others to have similar thought processes and intentions as I do. I believe that people are simple and straightforward and don't play games.
I believe this and that's my problem.
But how come I can believe so easily?
And that's when I realized the answer to my question. It's because of my relationship with Bill. I was so young (and had not learned to be cynical and suspicious) when we met. I never had to mess with typical relationship crap. Oh sure, there were times of teenage drama. And there were times before we were married that we dipped our toes into that back and forth stuff. Gosh though, it was so small-scale and silly that I never "learned a lesson" about relationships from it. I was never seriously hurt by any of it. Consequently I carry no suitcase loaded with emotional baggage around with me.
Naive? Possibly. But more like simple, honest, and uncomplicated.
You see, Bill was my best friend. When I first met him we would spend hours just talking. And fishing. Always fishing and talking. Even after all the years and the kids and the rough parts of life that we experienced we could still spend hours talking. He was my favorite person and I know I was his. I would talk to him multiple times throughout every day. He was the person I never hesitated to call to complain or celebrate or cry to. Naturally this went both ways as I was always, always ready to hear what he wanted to say. We had no ulterior motives or methods of manipulation in our intent. Nope. We just really liked each other.
And that is why I assume everyone else lives this way.
I am learning that most people have been hurt and betrayed by some person or situation and cannot let their guard down anymore. Where there was once trust and openness has now been replaced with reservation and suspicion. And often times I'm seeing that those betrayals cause us to adopt self-sabotaging behaviors too. Maybe the hurt makes us feel like we're never going to be enough? Or that we don't deserve something better? Either way, we end up packing our bags with sadness and padding it all with a whole lot of self-preservation.
I'm not sure that there is a solution to this. We all have to carry different bags filled with different burdens through the wanderings of our lives. Some people get fancy, flashy bags that hold glittery problems while others get plastic Walmart bags filled with garbage. Some carry veritable trunks filled with all different kinds of troubles, both big and small. Personally, I like to think that the people who we find (or who find us!) are put on our paths to help us carry the load. So maybe that is the solution: we can only be relieved of our burdens when we trust another to share the weight. Each time we relinquish an item from our bag our life becomes a little brighter, a bit less oppressive.
But to trust enough to allow such a thing, well.... that's a hard one to conquer.
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