I was talking to one of my heroes at Landmark Worldwide today on the phone. Her name is Helen.
I was telling her that I want to go to the Year End Vacation and the Conference for Global Transformation (two advanced trips offered by Landmark Worldwide), but that I was afraid that I would be all by myself there. Why go to all the expense and time travelling to be alone? I can do that at home for free.
“That’s ridiculous,” Helen said. “Why would you think that?”
Good question, I thought. I guess it’s my brain remembering how I played alone in kindergarten. I remember flipping over the metal bar over and over, all by myself. I don’t remember playing with the other kids at all. How interesting.
“I don’t think anyone wants to play with me,” I said, like a five year old.
“Well, you tell that little girl that she’s a grown up now. People love her. She’s fun and people want to be around her.” Helen said.
“Really? I can just do that?” I asked. “Tell that little girl that she’s got it wrong?”
“Of course,” Helen said. “People really do love you. That story you live inside of is just bull- oney.”
“Wow. That is so much more fun than my world,” I said. “How cool.”
I was getting groceries out of my car. I grabbed a couple more bags and headed towards my cottage.
“And I love what you said to me the last time I was worried that no one liked me.”
“What was that?” she asked.
“That if someone doesn’t like you, it’s not a problem, because eventually they will. I loved that. I’m always so worried about that. It’s ridiculous.”
“Yes,” she said. We talked some more and hung up smiling.
And I just remembered another Helenism: “Don’t worry. It’s a waste of time. AND, your face looks ugly cause it’s all scrunched up.”
That one always makes me smile. Because it’s true. And worrying is just a bad habit for me. Most of what we worry about never even happens.
I am very grateful to have people in my life like Helen. They remind me of who the world thinks I am, instead of the horrible stuff that my brain keeps telling me I am.
Thank you for calling me today, Helen. You are a gift.