What is a blind spot?
What do you think? You can’t see it. So you can’t grab hold of it. It’s not there. It’s the reason why, you’re supposed to check over your shoulder when driving. Multiple times. To check for your “blind spot”. This morning. I got to see one of mine. Very distinctly. I went out to dinner with my family last night. As we entered the restaurant. There was a check-in process. We are all very familiar with this new way of life over the past year due to COVID-19. We must check-in. I had a reaction when an attendant said she needed to see the check-in. But we had just arrived at the entrance not two seconds prior. I’m going to put the next scene in slow motion. Because the only way to see a blind spot, is to slow it all right down so you can observe the moment where “I lost my shit”. So I didn’t lose my shit. But internally, I definitely did. It’s the moment of feeling powerlessness to the situation. You’re not aware of what’s going on with your thoughts, and feelings. Because you’ve travelled in to a moment from your past without ever realising it. There is an ugliness to the way of being. It’s not bad or wrong. It’s just not pretty. It’s the moment where you behave a particular way, that doesn’t actually work for you and doesn’t serve you. It’s your blind spot. In previous times where I may have distinguished it, it seemed a little superficial. But this time I have seen it clear as day. My mind works in peculiar ways. I will go to sleep and ask for insight. The insight arrives the very next day upon waking. I attribute that to a lot of personal development, learning, self awareness and applying the frameworks I’ve learnt. I also attribute this occasion to my parents being present in the moment. I got to experience what goes on between my parents and with my parents and I. When you invite yourself to observe and witness, your mind becomes a detective. Looking for the unseen. So what happened was the attendant said; I need to see the check-in. I made it mean, “hurry up”, which she didn’t say. Maybe her way of being was flustered. Maybe she was just doing her job. It’s her job to ensure the customers comply. All of that doesn’t matter because it’s about the moment where YOU” lose your shit” and it doesn’t matter what anyone else does around you - they don’t press your buttons, you press your own buttons. In that moment, the past was triggered. I felt pressured by my own interpretation of what happened. I responded in words to her but underneath was the raging bull ready to charge. Here’s what the bull says, “If she would just give me a second, I’ve just walked in, I’m in the middle of doing it, Cant she see I’m doing it, It doesn’t take two seconds to do, I have to enter seven names, I know what to do, She doesn’t know me, I’m not like other customers, I’m a compliant customer, If only she knew that about me, just consider it’s a lot of chatter in a matter of moments. Part of that conversation comes up and out loud, and it comes out of my mouth as frustration. Now you might not think there is anything wrong with it. But it’s a powerlessness that is driving how I show up in the world. Not consistent with what or how I said I would show up in the world. So it’s about me and my own relationship to honouring my word. My own integrity. Which is why I want to observe and witness everything in slow motion. In seeing this movie clip in slow motion, I’ve also been able to see other movie clips. Your hope is to be able to see the very first movie clip - the one where you make the command. Mine was, “you don’t know me, don’t tell me what to do.” They are like layers of an onion. The layers show up when you’re open and willing too. In a split second there are so many statements or commands you are making. When you become aware of them, they can dissipate or disappear. They no longer have to be your triggers. How can they become just another part of your story to tell?
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AuthorHi my name is Angela. I have loved writing since I was able to hold a pencil in my hand. I soon learnt I had a gift of connecting with my ancestors through writing before my 30th birthday. Categories
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