Core wounding. Those deep entrenched, often hidden, beliefs
that let us scupper ourselves time and time again.
I first came across all this when I did a course of Rebirthing, absolutely
ages ago. I’d always felt that my ‘core
issue’ was abandonment – and that it had kicked in when my father died (when
I was ten). I blamed my inability to
form relationships on it – it was a handy tag. I'm not so sure about that any more.
Rebirthing, however, looks for stuff that happened during or around your
birth, or even before it. I remember
asking my mother if there was anything else I should know and she told me, very
honestly, very bravely, a shedload of stuff that isn’t mine to share here. But it sideswiped me. Left me horrified and humbled. And it made me realise that my core issue is
probably quite different. That, at heart,
it was – and maybe still is - Shame.
What does Shame say? Shame says ‘You’re
a mistake, you’re disgusting, you’re bad, you’re revolting.’ What does Shame do? Shame makes one overly nice and giving,
overly scared of hurting people, scared shitless of being exposed as a
fraud. Shame makes one a desperate
over-achiever, a perfectionist, ever-anxious, ever-fearful. Shame makes one a coward.
Actually we didn’t really look at core wounding at The Pause. But something Danielle said struck a core-chord. ‘Being more connected is a helpful way to be
in the world.’ And that sense of
connection was something that came up strongly for me at The Pause. Being totally alone is bloody lonely – but it’s
also safe. If you don’t share yourself
with others, if you keep hidden in your little hermit shell, if you push
everyone away, if you tell everyone to fuck off (whether overtly or covertly), then you don’t need to confront yourself out there, do you? You
can hold tight to your safe little world.
Yet, though sharing is scary, it can also be a relief. I was surprised to meet with such acceptance
within our little group, amazed that they looked at me and didn’t see the
monster within.
Ach, psycho-babble, jibber-jabber , mindless mind games and so on and so
forth, huh? But still, I feel there’s
something in it. Because we’re little
psychic sponges, we really are – and, even if nothing is said, nothing overt,
we pick up atmospheres, we read the wind.
And, no matter how much you like to think you’re an island, this stuff
does have an effect on how your life pans out, in particular how you relate to
other people. What messages did you pick
up as a baby, I wonder? What are your
core beliefs?
Might it be abandonment (nobody cares about me, I don’t matter, I can’t
trust); inferiority (I’m not good enough, I’m stupid, I’m boring); rejection (I’m
a burden, nobody wants to spend time with me, I’m unwanted); damage (something’s
wrong with me, I’m a failure), or maybe arrogance (I’m too much; I’m right, you’re
wrong)? Something else entirely?
What messages were drilled into you from an early age? It’s
curious but there are some people who, from what they say, had
idyllic beginnings – parents who wanted them wholeheartedly, who loved them
deeply from the get-go, who were the epitome of Love and Caring and
Devotion. And yet…
Anyhow, just musing out loud again.
What do you reckon?
3 comments:
Something in this gives me a peaceful feeling inside. Not sure why, but just wanted to say…. Claire, next door, Nikiana xxxx
Claire! Lovely next-door Nikiana neighbour. Something about seeing your name gives me the same feeling. :) xxxxx
What messages picked up as a baby... oh Jesus... I was pushed in my huge pram to the bottom of the garden (even in winter, 2ft of snow on my pram) because the "fresh air was good for you".
What does a baby pick up from that?? Who knows. Am now wondering what my two kids might have picked up from their babyhood...
Interesting though. I guess we *do* pick up vibes as a tot - it's about all we can understand anyway, the body language, the tones, the atmosphere, as we have utterly no command of language.
Grief. There's no hope really.
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