Inner Whizdom

I deleted the ebill I got this morning from Bank of America. They’d added late fees onto the finance charge they applied days AFTER I’d paid off my entire balance and closed my account. I was so angry with them from before that I was just going to ignore it forever and they could go jump in a lake.

That lasted for an hour or so. I started feeling twinges of yuck about the whole mess and finally looked online and documented all the payments and blah blah blah then called their “customer service” department, steeling myself for another fight.

Instead I got a pleasant man named Rocky who looked at the records and agreed to remove the finance charges. Just like that! I was a little off balance because I was ready to be aggressive but his demeanor diffused some of that. And instead of being an asshole myself I just asked him to please make the charges disappear and he said okay.

Thank you Rocky (he must be a new hire from one of the banks that went under).

I’m proud of myself for facing the fear and for trying a pleasant approach before getting defensive.

I can’t quite wrap my head around what an economic collapse would mean.  How would it affect me? Do I lose my job? My house? My level of comfort? The only thing I’ve seen so far is the potential for a lot of fear.

I’m revving up my love generator as an antidote.  Fear of the unknown does nobody any good.

I was fortunate that the tragedies of 9/11 did not affect me personally.  I did not know anyone who died.  I’m assuming that’s why, 7 years later, I don’t have much personal connection to the date. My heart goes out to those who lost family and friends and their lives, and I honor those who are in service to our country (even though I disagree strongly with the administration).

There was a sign in my office yesterday that said, “Remember 9/11 and never ever forget.” I’m not sure what I’m supposed to remember. That extremists committed terrorist acts? That thousands lost their lives for no reason?

I don’t want to feel pain and fear every September 11th. I don’t want to put those thoughts out. How can I use this rememberance to serve love and bring peace?

I told someone this morning that I thought the reason I was working at this particular job was to learn that I was multi-talented and respected. I feel that way once in awhile. Why does it go away?

My standard way of operating has been to feel like an outsider, believing that people who aren’t close friends think I’m a little weird but amusing.

I recently had a BOING brainstorm that maybe people think of me the way I think of this certain person I admire a great deal. What if all these friendly acquaintances saw me the way I see her?

I choose to change my assumptions. They like me! They really like me!

I’m making myself crazy imagining that a co-worker is judging everything I say. He’s probably not paying any attention, or else he wonders vaguely why I stammer.

HE isn’t doing anything to me. I’M the one who is judging myself!

It doesn’t help that he looks like Don Draper on Mad Men.

I have not been feeling very wise recently.

I’ve been angry and defensive and felt like running away.

I suppose I’m s’posed to accept this icky, small-minded, puny, uncomfortable me before I can let it go.

Blecch. Not there yet.

I just got back from an event that went exceedingly well. I got lots of praise and people told me again and again how much they were enjoying it.

I also heard some indirect references to complaints and things that could be improved. Of course! That goes with the territory and that’s how we learn. But a part of me is grasping for the negative, holding it close, and practically cherishing the pain.

Why am I making imagined judgment more important than displayed appreciation? I am choosing the way I see this. I am using a filter that does not serve me.