by Jill MacGregor

I need you to hear something. That thing—that thing you’ve been dragging around, possibly for years—you know what I mean. That tipping point of shame in your life…that thing that makes you feel like less…

It wasn’t your fault.

What would it feel like if you started to believe the words: It wasn’t your fault. If you stopped reminding yourself of what you think you caused (you didn’t), of what you think happened because you were being punished (you weren’t), of what occurred because you weren’t good enough, smart enough, loved enough (you are)…you fill in your own blank.

You are not to blame.

You’ve allowed this thing to be the cornerstone of your personal mythology and it wipes its messy hands all over every decision you make, every relationship you try to have. It picks the most hurtful moments to show itself and steal from you. Unbraid yourself from it.

It doesn’t define who you are—you are so much more. You are so much stronger.

You did everything you could have at the time. Of course, you have more information on life now and you can hindsight the situation to death as you look back. Why didn’t I…? I should have… If only. You can’t change the past. Please stop trying. Change this day.

You’re different now.

You’re not the same person… victim…story. And all of those regrets…set them down and leave them here. You don’t have to look back on them again.

The thing that haunts you—and know that everybody has their thing– stop believing in it today. Next time your ghost shows itself——just turn away. You are the only one giving it the power to stand.

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by Jill MacGregor

Please move, my ego would like your chair.

You know, I think I do things for others to show my love or because of something altruistic, but I’ve recently discovered something about myself I don’t necessarily dig.

Sometimes, I’m doing it for me.

ME, ME, ME, ME.

I find this rather embarrassing. Please look away.

Worse than this confession— sometimes I don’t even enjoy doing these things. My actions can be all wrapped up in have to’s and can’t say no’s, a side of shame for imagined past omissions or just to prove that I can handle it and it’s all under control.…I could go on but, really.

But I’m very clever. You may think me selfless. Giving. Always there for others. Sometimes it goes upside down on me and I may get a long suffering.

Earning vs. Recieving

How often do you find yourself doing things *to make others happy*–or so you say—only to find you’re doing these things to prove something about who you are?

Do you feel like you have to earn the love you get from others?

Uh oh. Bet you’re not attempting to prove something to the world about who you are—you’re really trying to prove something to yourself. This feeds back to your sense of worth and how you connect with what you deserve—and about forgetting about that pesky scorecard you’ve got in your back pocket.

I find the *fix it now* button gets activated when someone close to me is unhappy. Watch me as I whip out my tool box and fix, fix, fix—I’ll produce shiny objects and dangle them in the light to distract. I will cook, I will bake, I will pour the wine—I will dazzle you in attempts to disconnect you from your pain. And I am a machine, so step back. Because the honest truth is, if I can get you to stop thinking about what’s making you unhappy, of course, you’ll start thinking about how great I am.

Holy crap.

I Blame Lassie

Lassie, girl, the barn’s on fire!

Dude, I’m a dog and ill equipped to handle a burning building.

Lassie, GIRL, Timmy’s fallen in the well!

Really? I don’t even have opposable thumbs. I’m a very, very pretty dog but I’m not sure how you think I can help.

If only I responded like that. But, no, I’m running around to get the bucket and a rope and…holy mother. Now, I’ve got some mad skillz but it’s obvious that I’m not realistic about where my involvement should start and end.

Watch me as I attempt to influence your free will. And I admit, I can create a lot of distractions what with throwing Timmy down the well and setting that dang barn on fire. But eventually, a moment of stillness will catch up with me, and I’ll notice that I have been pulling a Volkswagen up a hill with a rope in my teeth without being asked and it sure is heavy.

It will become very apparent that what I’ve been doing hasn’t made any sense.

And then it’s just me and my ego—staring at each other. After a moment of finger pointing, we agree to share the blame and vow to do better.

Its Harder to Be Clark Kent

Ultimately, we all want to feel needed, we want to be the first person others look to when they need help. But to anticipate—real or imagined—the other person’s needs well in advance of a request or even a twitch that would indicate help is needed…what are you trying to prove?

If you find yourself suffering from the *watch me while I save the world* syndrome, here are some reminders to calm you before you turn into the human whirlwind.

Your less can be someone else’s more. It feels good to solve your own puzzle so allow the other person the privilege of doing that for them self. Be there for them. Encourage and support them along the way. And listen. This is how you show your love and truly do something for someone you care for.

Ask instead of do. Everyone has a process and your need to “fix their problem” may interfere with the other person creating their own important solutions. Remember, this is not about you. I’m sure it hurt to hear that…

Love is not based on a point system. This one is really important. You are not going to be able to earn anyone’s love. Be steady and true. Be loyal and kind. Trust. Replace your outmoded point system with these ingredients.

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By Jill MacGregor

I wish I was kind—like Mary Poppins kind.

I wish I said the right thing when people needed to hear it far more than I do. I wish I didn’t pick and choose who got my kindness remnants—I wish I threw it up in the air like confetti and let it land where it may. But I’m selfish with it—sometimes I think people have to earn it. That just never feels right.

I consider it a failing, this inability to distribute kindness wantonly. With wanton.

A la wanton.

Ironically, I am surrounded by the kindest of the kind…they actually choose to be around me…I must be a special project. They hang in when times are tough. They listen. They reward. They model kind behavior while pet/horse/bad Jill whispering me into believing that I can be more than an intern with this whole kindness thing.

Easy, eeasy…Pat, pat, here’s a treat.

Here’s what they’ve taught me, my friends and family, and I try my best to parrot them. Thought I’d share in case this is a skill you, too, are wanting to hone.

Shut It

These friends of mine, they remind me that it’s not about having the best answer or saying the smart thing first. It’s not about having the most highly evolved toolkit because you are not there to fix anything. It’s about shutting your pie hole and listening because, let’s face it, some things are hard to say and they require some space and room to show their ugly faces. And some people—I’m not naming names…ok, me—don’t enjoy talking about their feelings as much as some of you do.

They give me words. They give me words for *fear* like good but new and words for *worry* like adjusting to better. They give me words when mine fail.

Angel of Mercy

You will forever love the person who dissipates your pain. There is no better moment than when pain is lessened. Maybe you will love them in a small, quiet way for the kindness they provided—maybe they aren’t even aware of the comfort they gave you and what it meant. When someone does this kindness for you, it gets in your bones, it becomes muscle memory. And that memory becomes a place you search out and return to whenever comfort is needed.

Kindness is Never on the Clock

These people who teach me about kindness, I have yet to see them raise a finger to ask someone to hold on for a second—or could we wrap it up…is there a shorter version…you already told me that part…I’ve never seen it happen.

They are patient. They are engaged. They are empathizing and remembering when they experienced something similar. These people with their big bags of kindness, they know that it’s an act of bravery to share how you feel. I love how they can stand with you in that moment without shaking their head and saying, “Dude…”.

They get it. Sometimes they just let me run till I’m tired like a squalling toddler, knowing this is where the moment lives—the moment when I can get out of my own way and talk about the fear or the worry that is currently batting me about the head.

I’m still amazed every time I see it happen. I feel so fortunate to say that I’ve seen it so many times, I’ve lost count.

Lucky bastard. Mary Poppins would never have said that…

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.

~ Leo Buscaglia

Image: Simon Howden

by Jill MacGregor

I spend a lot of time working hard to avoid a certain emotional predicament. I dodge and head fake it, hide silently without moving in hopes it will pass and even lie to myself once it’s found me.

Eyes shut tightly, la la la la…

I can just feel it touching me with its cold fingers as I tell you about it now…it does like the sound of its own name. I work so hard not to conjure it.

Everyone else knows how to tame this beast better than I do. I watch them, chair in one hand, whip in the other, as they allow it to take a few steps forward—but not too many—always appearing in control.

I try to emulate their bravery. I straighten my posture and try to show no fear as it takes away all that makes me solid and strong with a single swipe.

Vulnerability. I fear it. And it knows I’m afraid. It knows all of my hiding places.

Just to make sport of me, Life constantly surrounds me with people who demonstrate their vulnerability FEARLESSLY. I watch them carefully and I am amazed that they haven’t caught on yet—that they have been placed here for my education.

The thing you always try to avoid has the easiest job of finding you, doesn’t it?

I’m amazed as I walk through the Mutual of Omaha-scape of other’s emotions. Their emotions run free, sometimes, angry, loud or frightening. While here’s me–hissing at mine to “Behave!” as it throws me a contemptible side-eye and says, “Oh, yea?—make me”. I understand at that moment who’s really the boss.

And these people—they just open their gate and let me in to their emotional world regardless if its condition—they just let me in because the important thing isn’t what it looks, isn’t what I’ll find or even how it will make me feel. They just want me to step across. They invite me to kick through their rubble with them. They pick up their most shameful or frightening memory and hold it up to the sun so that we can both see its detail—and they tell how its reflection has changed over the years, how now they can touch it without the same amount of pain, how it’s okay if I hold it, too—because they’ve already taken the stinger out.

That’s when things change. I start to hear the words they don’t want to say just by looking into their eyes. I leave more quiet spaces because they’ve shown me that courage is sometimes a steep hill that isn’t climbed quickly. So, I wait for them.

They teach me that the same thing that makes you bare ass naked vulnerable is the same thing that makes you beautiful.

These people in my life…I watch them as they put on their capes. I’m amazed at how freely they talk to me about their kryptonite. And how they never let it stop them.

If you like this, you may also want to read:

Life Lessons

By Jill MacGregor

Things don’t always go right. You’re not the only one this happens to. I hate the way it feels—the gaff I make, the thing I wish I’d said instead, the action I meant to take but didn’t.

I’m going to say it—it’s ok. And this—fix it next opportunity. And maybe even this—people love you anyway—they are full of that automatic forgiveness that doesn’t even require exact change.

You lucky bastard, you.

Change of focus. Hope it works for you.

Talk to me about the thing that makes it change, that makes everyone change, that takes the harsh and softens its edges.

Talk to me about the courage you speak into existence every day—I am always amazed at how nothing can destroy it. You kick your fear like a can down a soft tar alley. You’re full of the kind of fight that makes me feel strong.

Talk to me about hope and show me the look in your eyes when you’ve understood that things can be better. Talk to me about redemption and recovery and forgiveness because I would like to see more than just a glimpse of those things as they round the corner out of my view—remind me, whisper their stories in my ear when I can’t sleep.

Talk to me about how you fight for others when they’ve lost the ability to fight for themselves. Because every time you need a defender, I’ll want to be that for you.

Talk to me about how you want to make it right and correct the wrongs. You know that you’re not a loosely scripted character that wanders all over the page—you’re an instrument of great power created for purpose and meaning.

Talk to me about the unexpected, the side swipe, the t-bone, the unanticipated that leaves no mark but changes everything. I want to know more about the flash of blue that creates a line in time from what it once was to what it has become.

Talk to me about the words and how to use them to make a difference so that when I hear them, they peal like a bell reminding us that things have changed. I want what I say to be the difference.

Friday is Erase the Hate Day. Be a reminder of tolerance in the world—every day.

by Jill MacGregor

A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is brave five minutes longer.

–Ralph Waldo Emerson

Very often, there is a moment, a physical place in time where things change. A shift takes place and it may feel subtle at the time but the results can be significant. It’s probably safe to say that this change has been tracking you for awhile and you sensed *something* but you chose to ignore it. You heard the twigs snap in the distance, you saw the birds suddenly fly away startled, but you chalked it up to a coincidence, your imagination, nothing.

Sometimes it’s a change within you. Sometimes it’s a change in things around you. Many times, it’s both.

Guess what? The wind is blowing. The air is crackling with electricity. Your hair is standing on end. And you are seconds away from getting hit with a lightning bolt of realization—like it or not.

The moment you understand just how far you’ll go

And this can mean so many things: how far you’ll go to make things right, to prove your point, to fight for what you believe in. There’s an unwavering place in you that is made up of strength and hope and your truest words and once that kicks in, do stand back. Your commitment begins to inform your fears about what must occur and at that moment, there is no turning back. You know and the question doesn’t get asked again.

When it becomes clear who’s got your back

Trust is an orchid. Delicate and beautiful, it doesn’t grow just anywhere and it requires a specific type of care for it to thrive.

There’s so much power in knowing who to trust. It’s an important discovery when you learn whose hand will be reaching for yours when times get rough.

The moment you understand that there’s something missing

Like the eternal search in your emotional junk drawer, this moment is a dull thud—you thought you had it, you thought you knew what it felt like but you can’t find it anywhere—not even a trace. Because it’s just not there. Maybe you’ve been filling in the blanks on its behalf for years, combining element A and element B in an attempt to create what was missing.

This moment is usually accompanied with a hard swallow and a faraway look. Be brave—whether you realize it or not, you’ve just begun to make room for that thing or person that you will need.

The moment you stop being afraid

This usually occurs right after you are fed up with all that has been holding you back, holding you down, holding your head under. Your frustration suddenly becomes larger than your fear and, in a moment of exasperation (mixed with courage), you discover you’ve done something incredibly important.

You’ve just stepped away from the sinkhole.

The result is very important: you finally understand that you can do anything. You are bigger than your fear.

When you see who might serve you up for supper

You thought you could trust them and suddenly—POW—this thing, this omission, this commission—and you understand that you’re really not as safe with this person as you once thought. They don’t have your best interests at heart—they’re considering their own entertainment, their own way to profit, their next puppet. What’s happened is far more than an error in judgment.

It’s a hollow moment to discover you’ve been wrong but it’s more important to learn who is and isn’t reliable in your life.

The moment you understand you deserve all of the love

Yes, YOU. All of it, not just some. You’ve spent a lot of time protecting yourself and there have been too many times when you pushed people away, just to see if they’d come back. You created impediments for no reason, picked unnecessary fights—in other words, you spent a lot of time creating an elaborate emotional obstacle course that people had to cross just to reach you.

Eventually, the care and upkeep on your obstacle course even begins to exhaust you and someone slips through. They reach you, rather catch you unaware and before you have a moment to resume battle plan, you notice this feels rather nice, thank you. And purely as a social experiment, you decide to see what it would feel like if you perhaps took down the barbed wire and let others in closer.

And that was the beginning of the end for you. More only led to more.

So continue to rock that one…

If you liked this, you may want to read:

by Jill MacGregor

Now, who’s a pessimist? I understand. Life can throw curve balls and sometimes it feels like you’ve caught the ball in the head one too many times. I get it. But you know, those are just moments and life is also full of other moments—good ones—and sometimes it’s easy to lose sight of all that good and just focus on the bad and the ugly.

Oh, look. I made you a little list— for the moments when you need a some reminding that everything’s going to be okay and that its truly fabulous to be you.

1. You are so loved.  And that makes you a giant. And that love will keep you from ever being alone even if you are feeling like a tiny island in a vast sea surrounded by nothing by horizon.
2. You are made to heal.   Break, repair, grow…and repeat.
3. You are capable of the most remarkable things.   Others see it in you all the time. In fact, they’ve come to expect in you. Its time you started believing it, too.
4. You get what you give—so give what you need.   I mean, really, what if you just tried this approach as an experiment. Think of how your expression would change, the tone of your voice, the words you would choose.
5. Every day is an opportunity to start over.   So if you find yourself in a place where you feel you’ve made mistakes that are so egregious that you are smacking your forehead like you’re in a V-8 commercial, you need to remember that your prison is your own making. Every day is a chance to make things right, to heal a wound—and it may be your own—to take all the screeching monkeys off your shoulders and start clean and fresh. Make amends. Give yourself a do-over. Give others the same opportunity.
6. There is an inexplicable power in kindness.   Like 7up when you’re barfing, kindness has a curative property that I can’t quite explain. It softens all hard edges, it takes the sting out of every bite, it builds confidence in all of us at our weakest moments. When your actions are fueled by kindness, you are telling others (and yourself) that there is nothing to criticize and caution is not necessary because all words will be heard. Practice kindness regularly and receive it often.
7. Everything you do is important  —and if you don’t think it is, then try harder. Don’t stop until you’ve convinced yourself…everyone else is already buying what you’re selling.
8. You get to pick.   There is always a choice. Sometimes it’s not your first choice, sometimes it’s the choice of handling a difficult situation with grace instead of like a bull in a china shop, to forgive someone instead of holding a grudge, to look a little deeper and gather some understanding instead of lashing out. Whatever it is—it’s all you.
9. Things rarely end—they just change.   Your feelings of loss—trust me, I understand how that feels like it is fueled by endings. But, is it really loss you’re experiencing or the newness of change. Try to move with the changes and start to notice the new things, people, emotions that are filling what once felt like a void.
10. Life is rich. Even if you’re not.   I know the whole simple pleasures thing sounds corny but think how you are replenished by a sunny day, time spent with family and friends, giving of your time. It’s all the things that you can’t put a price on that make you so very wealthy.
11. Others see your beauty even if you can’t.  Maybe you should start using other’s eyes. When others give you compliments, really try to hear what they’ve said. There’s a lot of truth in their words that you may be ignoring.
12. Chaos and Fear are your friends—not your enemies.   They are keeping you on your toes, keeping your mind nimble and preparing you for what’s around the corner. Think of Chaos and Fear as your kung fu masters, you ninja, you.
13. Everything that has ever hurt you was really designed to teach you.   Sometimes it takes awhile to receive the lesson. Try to be patient with the process.
14. If you are starting at hard, you are starting at the wrong place.   So, honey, unhitch that horse and just let it walk on its own. Locate natural and try to start there. It’s not cheating.
15. The little things rock.   Sure, grand gestures are, well, grand. But your gestures don’t always have to be earth shattering to have a big impact. The little things you do for others—and, yes, you do them even if nothing’s coming to mind—are full of sweetness. These actions tell people that you are thinking of them when they’re not around and tell strangers that you realize the universe doesn’t center solely around you.
16. Your words and actions can change the world.   So use your powers for good, my friend. And don’t skimp.
17. You will never use up your chances for happiness.   Happiness is the wellspring that will always be fed and there is no limit to how many times you get to fill your cup.
18. You are surrounded by things designed to make you feel better.   Wine is good. Beer is cold. Fires are cozy. The sound of water is relaxing. Coffee is strong. Flowers smell good. Cats purr. Chocolate is delicious. Spices smell like faraway lands. I could go on but I hope you see what I’m saying. It’s all there for you.

If you liked this, you may also want to read 35 Shots of Truth.

by Jill MacGregor

Look at you with your capable self. The years have taught you quite a bit. You get it. Your story is one of determination, make me and forging a path without a map.

At least, that’s how others look at it.

You glance back over your shoulder with a shrug and a nod, acknowledging something you may not have a name for, but clearly understanding that it is yours. It’s so easy to forget all that others would find valuable—you’ve spent years taking it for granted.

Experience is a wonderful thing. The years of knowledge provide us with a bit of sense memory; guiding us on how to respond, what to expect, what is a red flag, what is surprising. We rarely question ourselves before acting—we just know. We’ve developed instincts.

Remember when you were just learning? When it was all new, rather confusing and there was a permanent question mark over your head. Everything felt like a discovery. Small tasks felt like challenges—but at the same time, you felt like a champion ALL THE TIME for accomplishing even the smallest thing.

Because it was all new.

You were surrounded by all things foreign and that kept you on your toes, your eyes open wide. You took nothing for granted.

But do you know what is easy to take for granted? The huge gap of time and experience that marks the place where you started and the place where you find yourself now. Your experiences are so unique, even if you’ve forgotten. Your stories make people lean in even if you think they might sound tedious and predictable.

Where you are today –well, that’s a wonderful thing and you’ve worked hard to get here. That holds true even if what you’re doing feels like it’s still a learning experience.

The most interesting and important thing about where you are today–everything that has led you to this moment– is how you got here. Your journey is an interesting one, your missteps are lessons to be shared, your hard fought and hard won accomplishments are inspirations.

Stop shaking your head—I’m right.

There’s so much more to be learned from your trek up the mountain than your actions on the summit. The ascent is the story—not necessarily where you plant your flag.

Don’t keep your light under a bushel.

If you like this post, you might also like Daring Acts—How To Work Without A Net.

Leave me a comment–I’d love to know your thoughts!

by Jill MacGregor

Mississippi is the only place where a man can call me *little lady* and I won’t give him the stink eye. It took awhile though.

When I was 24, and could more easily be considered a little lady…as opposed to the ma’am I’ve become…I moved from St. Paul, Minnesota to Hattiesburg, Mississippi—a small town that was so far south it might as well been in the water. I went from being a baker at a trendy spot (because that is what one does with a double major in French and International Studies…) to working in advertising sales at a new TV station in this tiny, little town…and what did I know about that?

Note: when you’re a baker, you are always greeted with joy—when you’re selling advertising, you are more commonly eyed with suspicion and occasionally hidden from.

And because I was a stranger to all I met in this Southern town, and since they hadn’t known my family for 150 years, my clients didn’t always learn my name. Many times, I was greeted with “Now, there’s that red haired Yankee girl again.” Smacks a little of *red haired step child*, don’t you think? That’s what some people called me. It wasn’t meant as a dig. But it identified that I was outside of the group, minus an unrecognizable pedigree–I was not one of them and they all knew it. And some of them were still a little pissed about the war (yes, that one)…in case I was wondering.

Everything was so unfamiliar. This chunk of change I had just bitten off felt overwhelming. I was very aware of how I didn’t fit in—and I tried to convince myself that their acceptance wasn’t important. But it was. I wanted people to get me. I wanted their kindness to be generated by more than gentile politeness.

I didn’t know how to define myself in this new place, in this new situation where I was working for the MAN—me! My Minnesota friends were actually horrified by my *selling out*… Me–who had volunteered at the co-op.

Me.

Who was I now?

Not even my own language was familiar in this new place. When these people that I was suddenly surrounded with began to talk, it just sounded like someone was playing a banjo. Dang didang dang dang…that’s all my unaccustomed ears heard. I felt like an Elocution Coach, with my Midwestern lack of accent and my failure to drop the occasional g.

Hazyamamanem?

That is a question in Mississippi. The proper response is not, “Bless you”. It is not an American Indian tribe or the name of a river. The Hazyamamanem is about to swell past its banks! Get the sandbags!

Hazyamamanem is actually a test for anyone who hasn’t picked up the most southern of Southern accents…yes, it is reserved for the Yankees. Translated, it’s “How’s your mama and them?” But it is said as one big word and the response should somehow incorporate a Youghtahavta—as in “Good, good. Youghtahavta come for a visit.”

Now, I am not making fun. I am merely pointing out the confusion I was experiencing from the spoken word…something that I’d considered myself fluent in for years—English and French at that stage of my life—but it had all just turned into…banjos. Twangity, twang, twang, twang.

Who was I in this new place, doing nothing that seemed familiar?

Then one day it happened. It took a long time— almost a year. And please know that up to that point I had fought hard against the assimilation that daily knocked on my door and said, “Aw, come on, just say it.” I would grit my teeth and tighten my lips, like an ornery child refusing to eat the last spoonful of peas. “Just say it once…little lady. Try it,” it would coax, just like that snake from the Jungle Book.

One day I forgot myself, I was chatting with new friends, enjoying a lovely day and it happened.

I said “ya’ll”.

It was a no turning back moment. “Ya’ll” is the gateway.

I knew that once “ya’ll” had infiltrated my speech, it would be no time at all before I would be “fixin’ to”. God only knew how much longer I had before I would “youghtahavta”…and forget about those errant g’s.

I gulped and understood. The biggest part of belonging is acceptance. Not just you and not just them.

Moving to Mississippi was a valuable lesson in learning how to appreciate the things I didn’t immediately understand. Living there became a language I began to understand even if it wasn’t my native tongue. I’ve developed affection for this place I have since visited at least twice a year, ever since. Mississippi is your crazy uncle, your sweet grandma, your charming spinster aunt, your growling junkyard dog on a chain, your hell fire and brimstone preacher on a Sunday and, often times, the last thing you expect.