People Love You

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.