Reassembling Humpty

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall;
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King's horses
And all the King's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again!

Wikipedia lists a number of different potential origins for this nursery rhyme from King Richard III to Humperdinck, a Romanian Prince. However, I've started thinking about it in a totally different context - namely, the implications from a personal growth and transformation perspective.

Bottom line, no one could put Humpty back together because no one can fix anyone else. Sure, our egg-shaped friend could have gotten instructions on the 12 steps for recovering from a tragic fall or scored some good drugs so that he didn't feel quite so broken up…but at the end of the day, the only one who could put Humpty together was….yep, you got it… Humpty.

Of course, the $64,000 question is HOW? Well, I've been giving that question a great deal of thought these past few months, and I have some ideas.

The first thing I wondered was: what does it mean to be "broken" anyway? And with that question, I'm not talking about people who have significant issues. Rather, I'm referring to the rest of us who are generally healthy and functioning humans in the world, but still have our share of baggage.

Looking at myself – which is really all that I can do – I think that the cracks come from that little negative voice in my head that prevents me from truly believing in myself and keeps me from achieving a real sense of balance and peace. So, if that's the case, then the only way to truly be whole is to face that voice head-on and tell it to shut the fuck up.

Of course, in order to have that conversation, I need to be prepared with the facts, which is going to require that I listen even more closely to that voice for awhile. That way, I can calmly and rationally address each point and dismiss the stuff that is completely ridiculous and do something about the items that have some merit.

 

 

Standing still…

If you're familiar with Myers Briggs, I'm an ENTJ which means that I think my way through life and have a tendency towards order. That's definitely consistent with most aspects of my being. I love jigsaw puzzles, I arrange my shirts in color, sleeve length and fabric order, and before iPods, there was a true science to the way I arranged my CDs. Given that, you might find it hard to believe that for the past 20 years, I have thrown my life into complete chaos on a fairly regular basis.

Every 2-2.5 years, I'd change all of the stuff that is included in the list of "most stressful" all at once – my job, where I lived and who or if I was dating. The most extreme time was when my dad died, which added another dimension of change and stress to the list. As a note, I'm also a pattern person, so the fact that I seemed to be repeating a well-worn path wasn't lost on me. Don't get me wrong – there was usually a perfectly good reason for moving – mostly driven by work opportunities, and I don't regret the choices that I made , but as I get closer to my 45^th birthday, I find myself trying to understand the reasons for this penchant for upheaval.

My current working theory is that the thing about being a fixer is that you always need something to fix. If life is just going along in a day-in, day-out kinda way, there's not a lot for someone like me to sink my teeth into. Looking back, most of my moves came at times when I was either A) bored or B) trying to get over some emotional upset. Apparently, for me, the best way to combat either is to distract myself with a large project – like packing, moving and starting a new job. Of course, the problem with that approach, is that once the dust settles and order is regained, you're still there and so are your issues. As Jon Kabat-Zinn says, "Wherever you go, there you are".

Coincidentally (or not), I currently find myself in a similar situation – I've been in Philly a little over 2 years and I'm dealing with some personal stuff. The difference this time is that I actually own a house – my first one – I love my job, and although it could actually make sense for me to pack up and move back to SF, I really don't feel like getting back into "go" mode right now. Again, I am amused by the title of this blog, since "crisis" is exactly what I used to create and am now trying to avoid.

So, this time, I'm opting for the alternative – which is to stay put and avoid making any massive changes in my life – a path that is a lot harder than I expected it to be. Without any massive undertaking to focus on, there's just me and my thoughts and WAY too much time to think. During the past few months, I've cycled through the full emotional spectrum and have forged new roads by staying present for each one – which has been far scarier than any one of my cross-country moves.

At 3 months into it, I feel like I'm on the edge of learning something important about myself that will help me design the latter half of my life. Hopefully, if I stick with it, key insights and a more-centered way of living are waiting for me the other end. I think that all of the scurrying around was very "noisy" and, that it made it impossible to hear my inner voice. As with any meditation, perhaps if I focus on stillness in my life, I can achieve some peace and balance – which are certainly goals worth waiting for.