Slay the demon
Thursday, October 25th, 2012So in order to fix a problem, you first have to name it, correct? Well, yeah, but for some gals you have to repeat it ad infinitum until you are just poisoning yourself. I’m like a soy candle, I burn so slow and so low and it takes a really long time for me to feel the burn – so it was that in discovering a saboteur on Tuesday with the life coach, today another one popped up so clear as day.
The LaLa saboteur – this is the one that says, Rachel, you don’t deserve the LaLa.
Now, mind you, when I first brought this up during the renovation to E, E said, “Your house isn’t all that, Rachel.” Which made me belly laugh.
And I do wonder about myself – why it is when I am living in the back, about how I feel so comfortable in my cocoon, because it goes hand in hand with this LaLa saboteur’s notion that I don’t deserve my own house.
Interestingly enough, walking by the house the other day for the Breast Cancer walk with my Zumba pals, I felt a little twinge of that guilt – like when I pointed out my house, I wanted to feel proud but instead a little gremlin was sitting on my shoulder saying who do you think you are owning a house on Moss Street, huh?
Yes, I have it – guilt. I feel it, I claim it, I own it.
But the reality is I don’t want it.
Guilt (emotion) is an emotion that occurs when a person believes that they have violated a moral standard. ~ Wikipedia.
So what moral standard have I violated, I asked myself as I walked the dogs in the dark this morning having risen at 4 am. And for the life of me, I thought, I worked hard and I was able to afford to buy this house. I was married to a talented architect who designed it. I have some talents myself – inherent and acquired – and so my modest size house situated on a fabulous site on Bayou St. John is something I deserve. Right?
In order to assuage my guilt I generally focus on how much it costs to maintain the house because that way when someone compliments the house I can throw up all the bad on them so that they don’t walk away from me thinking that I’m all that with my fancy pants house. But E’s right – what’s so fancy pants about my house? I mean it’s not that big for godsakes, and it does have some nice touches but the dang thing is 100 years old and acts like it a lot of times.
LaLa guilt sucks – it really does – and my goal is to slay this saboteur once and for all, or at least make it a blind deaf mute, so that I can waltz through my house, appropriately proud of my domain.