Speaking up in sensitive situations

I remember how passive I used to be. Never would I speak up for myself even if not speaking up was at my own expense. My happiness or peace would be at stake yet I was unable to voice discomfort or unease of any kind.

Silly, isn’t it? But, not silly for people who struggle or have struggled to realize their worth. Nor, for people who think being nice means never speaking up for themselves.

Once I realized my value was not contingent on external forces or that my confidence wasn’t based on receiving or not receiving affirmation from others, my life changed. Courage replaced fear, and a healthy self-concept replaced the fragile and fleeting self-image I’d carried for many years.

Thus, when I was recently seated in a window seat on a cross country flight and a fellow passenger two seats away was snoring loudly, it didn’t take me any time at all to signal to the steward.

“Excuse me, but may I change seats?” I politely asked the flight attendant when he came close to my seat.

“Yes, you may take any seat that is available,” he replied with a smile.

Relieved, I quickly grabbed my belongings and excused myself from my assigned seat. The man two seats over wasn’t just loudly snoring. He was in a full blown locomotive sounding snore. Other passengers began looking around like I had done to locate the source of the sound. The lady that was originally seated to my right and next to the snoring man had already moved to another seat. I knew there was no conceivable way I could deal with the man’s intolerable snore for the three hour flight to my connecting flight.

In the past, I would never have bothered the flight attendant nor had the courage, or nerve, to verbalize a request. Rather, I would have suffered silently, stewing and steaming and enduring an unbearable situation.

I’ve learned that speaking up for myself doesn’t mean that I insist or demand my own way. It means that I can become my own advocate and seek ways of making decisions that illustrate to others I am a woman who understands my value and am a good steward of my own spirit (essence).

Speaking out isn’t always best; being mindful of our words

Melissa Leo’s spirited speech at last night’s 82nd Academy Awards that included the use of slang was a verbal faux pas of significant magnitude. As Whoopie Goldlberg alluded to while hosting The View this morning, things get said and just come out of the mouth when an actor is presented with The Oscar. She meant words like the unscrupulous word that rolled off Ms. Leo’s lips that ABC bleeped out because of the seven second delay.

As the winner of Best Supporting Actress for her role in The Fighter, Ms. Leo arrived looking every bit a star. Glamorous in a stunning eyelet dress with a high scalloped neckline that framed her face, her hair in a soft up do, and with understated make up, she walked down the red carpet exuding controlled exuberance.

But, using discourteous language to speak out and make a point can backfire as it did with Ms. Leo.

I feel that Ms. Leo’s lack of etiquette in her acceptance speech took something from me. I look for role models in society today. People who strive to be examples of decency and integrity and people who stand honorably are people that I admire. While it was a fleeting remark and one she has apologized for, which took humility, when I think of Ms. Leo now, I will be reminded of her moment when the eyes of millions of people were upon her and she allowed her speech to dim her golden star.

You may be thinking tinseltown isn't a place that breeds people who stand honorably. Maybe not, but I think if we look we will find people who do.

Be the first to leave your comments below. I always appreciate your feedback and hearing of your comments, your requests, and/or any concerns you might have.

Asking for what you need

Asking for what we need is part of speaking up for ourselves. Some people can do it with perfect poise. A request rolls off their lips and they get results faster than a shooting star dancing through the night sky. Yet, some of us have had a really hard time. Someone could be stepping on our toes and pain is shooting up our leg yet we can’t get the words out to ask them to take their foot off our toes. Our leg becomes numb, yet we still can’t ask for what we need. We end up on a gurney heading for surgery with a gangrenous leg because we were never able to say, “Excuse me, you’re hurting me. Would you please remove your foot”?

My scenario is far-fetched but it has a ring of truth. Even in the 21st century, there are those of us who fight the inner battle of asking for what we need that helps sets us on the path to wholeness.

Part of my personal struggle with speaking up stemmed from a lack of understanding. I never grasped the truth that as God’ chosen child of the universe, I had rights. That if someone was violating my rights to be treated with respect and dignity that I had a right, and even a responsibility, to honor my own personhood by speaking up for myself.

“Who do you think you are?” is what we ask ourselves if we attempt speaking up about an injustice or perhaps from a conviction. “Stop making waves”, is another line we may have listened to in childhood that rears its ugly head. And so, we squelch our voice and dutifully back down only to suffer later in life from a host of maladies.
But, we are not doomed. Once we understand our significance and that we have contributions that no one else can make, we can find our voice.

Speaking up for yourself can set your spirit free. Being set free in your spirit can enable you to speak up for yourself. Which comes first? It’s speculative, but what is true is that asking for what you need is right and just.

Be the first to share your thoughts at the end of this post on speaking up for yourself. They may appear in the book I am working on about speaking up for yourself.

Valentine's Day

This Valentine’s Day is truly a gift. Here in the Northeast we’ve been buried for weeks under a blanket of snow. Today, it’s already 51 degrees. While writing this blog there are mounds of snow piled nearly to the top of the street signs outside my window. I’ve not seen this much snow since the blizzard brigade we had in 1994! We may not see the grass again until April but this whisper of what’s to come has me visualizing daffodils dancing in the wind.

Still, it’s mid-February and it is Valentine’s Day, a day that’s set aside for expressing love with hearts and flowers, chocolates and candy, gifts and dinner… and the myriad of everyday ways we show our love and appreciation. Such as doing nice things for people and perhaps smiling at a passerby. It may bring them more joy than you know.

If you’re single you might wish the florist zipping down the street would be pulling up at your door to deliver flowers. You might feel left out of the romantic loop from hearing about what your friend’s boyfriend or husband did. Or, you could do what I did a few years ago. Celebrate life!

I gathered a group of girlfriends of varied ages and physicality for roller skating at our local rink (now demolished for new housing). My cohort, Marie, and I designed inexpensively bought painter’s hats with glitter and adopted quirky names for the evening. She was “Corky” and I was “Squiggly”. We had a blast! After we rolled around the rink a few times, sustained a few falls, and laughed our heads off, we went back to Marie’s for a night of decadent deserts. We still talk about our hilarious night!

This year, though low key, love with a hint of spring is in the air. One of the things I did was write an old-fashioned romantic letter that I included in a home-made (computer) card. I’ve also lit a candle with my favorite fragrance to enjoy and put on a CD. Alison Krauss was serenading me while I was frosting on a batch of “Grandma’s Sugar Cookies”.

Our whisper of spring has brought our afternoon temperature up to 58 degrees. Though I don’t see any daffodils dancing in the wind just yet, my heart is singing because the surprise and wonder of love, family, and friends, is all around!

Take a moment to write me… I’d love to hear how you are celebrating Valentine’s Day 2011!

Speaking up means weighing your words

People think that speaking up for yourself means saying everything that’s on your mind. Initially, you may feel better for having vented but as you walk away you never note the effect of your words. Your recipients facial expression my reflect surprised shock, or they may even be so stunned that they are left standing in utter silence with their head hanging down. You never touched them, but the wounding from your words lingers…and wears upon you both.

I know because I’ve been that person who has coughed up a barrage of what was on my mind erroneously believing that I was valiantly speaking up for myself.
“I’ll show them!” was my stance. Yet, my insecurity, immaturity, and impulsivity were glaring. What a fool I was. Thus, after years of stuffing emotions and not being heard, verbal eruptions became my norm.

Many years have passed since my days of verbal explosions. Through growing in my Christian walk, I now know that self-expression is closely tied to self-discipline and self-control (fruits of the spirit). Speaking up from a position of strength, and love, changes everything. Not only can you set boundaries for yourself in your own life, but you can set boundaries in your relationships. Consequently, you’re well thought out words have the potential for impact rather than just exhaling in a verbal blast that does no earthly good.

When you do need to speak up for yourself remember that the louder your voice, the less likely you will be heard. Using a soft toned voice shows respect and has greater potential for better reception.

Having the quiet strength to know when to speak up for yourself can elevate you in grace and beauty and free you from self-reproach.

The pain of parting; the joy of hello

Sitting in a window seat while flying at 4,000 feet in the air aboard a Boeing 737 on Alaska Airlines, I began pondering the events of the last three weeks of my life.

In the first week, I flew from my home on the East Coast to fly out to my hometown on the West Coast to meet my sister, Lezlie. It was time for us to tackle the final clearing out of our deceased mother’s belongings from the family home that is now on the market. When that project was completed, I flew to Montana for the next two weeks to visit my three daughters, Nicole, Lesa, and Aimee and two-year old grandson, Finn. We had the best of times! And then, came my departure day. We all had long faces as I packed up my things.

A lot of thoughts run through your mind when you’re sitting on a plane. You can read, think, or strike up a conversation with a seat mate. If you choose thinking, where do your thoughts land?

For now, my thoughts have landed on our tearful good-bye. I wasn’t ready to leave. I wasn’t ready to go back to my life minus the joy of being with my family and hearing the word, “Mom” as well as Finn’s version of “Grandma”. It was music to my ears. I hadn’t been ready to say good-bye to my mom when she passed away three years ago either. But, I had to adjust. And, now, I wasn’t yet quite ready to leave my girls and sweet Finn. Our time being together was so special. I just wanted it to go on and on...

“Mom, you need to move here”, Nicole had said. Lesa, Finn’s mommy loves when I come (I stay with her to make sure that Finn knows his Grandma), and Aimee too wishes I’d move to Montana. Secretly, I think they all want me to come so I can do their mending.

I don’t have a crystal ball to see into the future and if my address is going to change anytime soon. But, as I ponder the moments with my family in my window seat, you can be sure I’m doing some serious day dreaming about life under the Montana Sky.

Luckily, another trip is planned soon. The joy of our next "hellos", and seeing the smiling faces of my daughters and grandson welcoming me helps ease the pain of parting. With that thought, I sink back into my seat and relax for the remainder of my flight knowing that I don't need a crystal ball. God holds my future and I know that His plan will be the best one for us all.

Birthday meditations

Today, I am sixty-four and I am going to enjoy every last breath before dawn tomorrow when I turn sixty-five. I don’t know the exact time of my birth so I won’t have to wait until a certain hour of the day to officially turn sixty-five. I can wake up and be sixty-five!

When I was born on June 22, 1945, neither the time of the baby’s birth nor their weight and length were listed on birth certificates. I’m sure my mom shared that with me somewhere along the way, and I likely have it jotted down on a piece of scrap paper somewhere. But, Richard Carlson, Ph.D., wrote Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff and I’m taking his advice. Fiddly, if I’m going to turn sixty-five tomorrow, it’s about time I master Mr. Carlson’s charge.

Cheryl, one of my high school classmates from my hometown, Visalia, California, sent an email saying happy birthday in advance. She also wrote, “…As they say, 65 is just a number"! It made me feel hopeful. I can just sit back and relax while getting a manicure and a pedicure this afternoon and wrap my mind around Cheryl’s comments.

Sixty-four hasn’t been so bad. A lot of good things have happened this past year in spite of battling with the pull of gravity. Since my budget doesn’t allow visits for plastic surgery and looking like Joan Rivers with the upsweep eyes, I have to nip and tuck the old fashioned way; exercise and fewer calories. I can see this regime is going to be a lengthy proposition but I’ve heard perseverance has its rewards.

I am a little sad to say good-bye to sixty-four. It went too fast and I didn’t get done all that I wanted to accomplish. But, believe it or not, I’m really excited to cross over. Now I will officially be a “senior citizen” even though I don’t think of myself as being that old.

Well, the hours are passing and I’ve only a short while before the magical moment when the stroke of midnight officially declares that tomorrow is here.
Cheryl is right. Whatever your age it’s just a number.

I’m ready to welcome the ripe young age of sixty-five because, I believe, the best is yet to come! Getting older isn’t always peachy keen, but growing up and stepping out in faith is always in style no matter your age.

Instead of saying I’m getting older, I’m going to believe that I’m getting better. And, that as I turn sixty-five tomorrow God will give me the faith and the courage to deal with whatever lands on my plate as I turn the page and enter this new chapter in my life.