I am at what I believe to be a distinct crossroads in my life at the moment. I’ve come home and it doesn’t get more literal than that.  But even more, I think I am attempting to finally grow the hell up, quite honestly.  I have come to a place where I am no longer content to be self-absorbed; where I want to honestly give myself to a truer listening instead of running my mouth all the time.  God knows I have talked and  been listened to.  I want to now give my ears and my heart to others in a much more meaningful way.

I have always been a compassionate person – I was raised that way.  My parents have taken in so many lost souls over the years. When I was growing up, it wasn’t uncommon for my parents to be sheltering one of our friends from school or a wayward cousin.  To this day, my parents run into people who thank them for helping out their child at a time when they needed it.  So I was raised that you open your heart to other people and reap the benefits of a richer life because of it.

I have always tried to be a good sounding board for my friends.  I am often the go-to person when someone needs a good kick in the butt.  I am known to be a straight shooter, doling out the ugly truth.  I am no sugar coater and people who aren’t ready to face the facts avoid sharing their problems with me.  It’s a role that I am happy to play. I think we ass-kickers have our place in the world.

But there were times in my life when helping other people proved to be problematic.  For the longest time, for example, I gave to others with the expectation that something would be returned.  And in a perfect world, that would be the case.  I don’t need to tell you that it is not only naïve, but just the wrong motivation altogether.  Inevitably with this attitude, you are bound for heartache.  People will often disappoint us or take advantage of our kindness.  This is a risk that you run when you offer to help others. Better to be pleasantly surprised when a kindness is extended to you in return one day.

Another misguided attitude of mine was becoming a bit of a compassion junkie.  I’ll admit it: fixing other peoples’ problems, lending an ear, being sought out for advice, all of it became a way for me to get high.  Even when people weren’t coming to me directly, I was always on the lookout for a wounded bird; someone I could repair; a place to put all of my energy [instead of doing  something boring like dealing with my own life].

I think one of the benefits of getting older is the ability to have this sort of perspective about ourselves.  I know I have done a lot of soul searching in the past few years.  I have managed to see both things I love about myself and things that I would really like to dig out, or at least tame.  You have to look at yourself as honestly as possible before you can get down to this kind of deconstruction.

I’m not going to lie to you: this process is often painful and uncomfortable.  While it may be rewarding, you are going to end up with some bruises.  There will even be days when you don’t like yourself very much.  There may well be tears and silent apologies into your pillow.

In the end, I think all we can do is keep our eye on the prize and that, for me, is knowing that by investing in the cultivation of our higher selves, we will one day reap the benefits of a much fuller, happier life.  As far as carrots on sticks are concerned, that one’s not half bad.

Bon Iver – Talk To Me

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Tara. now officially brilliant in two countries.