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I Got a Bad Feeling About This

Image result for creepy house in the woods

Yesterday I had a scheduled meeting with a man at his residence. I hadn’t been to the area he lived at before and when I saw his mailbox I noticed his driveway was long and winding, deep into the woods. It was eery as I slowly made my way and then I saw his house, surrounded by dense brush and trees on all sides. The front door faced the woods and I had an uneasy feeling. I got out of the truck and slowly looked around. I wasn’t sure it was the right place until a door to the house opened and he came outside. The man had an odd way of speaking and walking. He invited me into his home but said he needed to tell his mother to put the dogs outside. He spoke to someone on the other side of the door and I told him I would wait until it was taken care of. He came back a few moments later and the dogs were no longer inside. I never saw his mom. The entire time I was in the house I never heard her moving around. Making my way inside the man began to tell me about his collection of chairs. “It’s a wonderful collection of office chairs and recliners!” It was then all the pieces fell into place. An odd man, an invisible mother, a strange collection, alone, in an isolated location? I was in a Law & Order episode!
 
After looking at the chairs in the living room he took me to the kitchen and showed me more of his collection. “This one is my favorite,’ he said, ‘it’s heavy and so comfortable.” Picking up the chair he let out a small grunt and then asked me to lift it up. Feeling this was all wrong I stepped to the chair, lifted it up and put it down quickly saying; “Yes, that is heavy.” Then he said, in a flat tone; “Sit in it. You’ll die.” My heart began to race and the anxiety which had been growing in me exploded. I sat down fast, stood up and said; “Yes, soft.” He looked at me and asked if I would go to another room to see more of his chairs and that was it. “Nope! I exclaimed, I have another appointment and need to go!” We said our goodbyes as I made my way outside and didn’t stop moving until I got back into the truck and locked the doors.
 
The strange this is I don’t think the guy was a serial killer. I think his mannerisms were not what I was used to and this set me on a suspicious, weary, possibly paranoid(?) path. I called a friend on the way back into town and told them the story. They said I was lucky to get out of there alive!
 
As I look back on it today I don’t know what happened yesterday but I do know that we act like those with whom grew up. As adults, we are mirrors of the house we spent our formative years in, reflections of the environment in which we were immersed. This gentleman was, most likely, not dangerous, and the incident was a good reminder not to judge others quickly but to also be aware of your surroundings, your judgments, and adapt accordingly.
 
blessings,
@BrianLoging
thewannabesaint.com
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Reacting

Reacting

What are you reacting to? Such a wonderful and powerful question.

We live in a reactive world. Opinions, biases, judgments, loyalties, choosing sides, seems to be what everyone around us is doing. We don’t have to ask for someone’s thoughts on a matter before they tell it to us anyway. Social media is a primary culprit but I’ve heard stories of this happening in restaurants, gas stations, and grocery stores. People can’t shut up or stop typing. It is a wonder anyone can find interior peace when the exterior world bombards our ears with a cacophony of noise and words.

The space in between” is a difficult discipline which needs broader acceptance. Basically, it teaches that between the incident and the comment is the moment to choose our response. Between the action and the reaction, we have the ability to make the situation better, the same, or worse. In the immediate time following an experience we have the ability to make it more or less unstable.

Reacting, choosing, deciding, what our reaction to a stimulus will determine our destiny. Will we be thoughtlessly reactive, speak without considering, act without thinking about the outcome? Or, will we remember the “space in between” and so grace, kindness, and love?

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

The Mask

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The Mask

One of the most difficult truths about mental illnesses is knowing you have no control over when and where your’s will show itself. This morning mine decided to visit just before going to church. I felt; “edgy” and distracted thoughts swirled around in my head. When I got to church the mask of; “everything is OK, nothing to see here, pleasantries for everyone” was put on before I walked in the doors and stayed before, during and after service. Like a duck on a pond, smiles and easiness on top, churning and just trying to stay afloat beneath the surface.

Having a severe anxiety disorder and clinical, chronic depression often means wearing masks. You know what’s socially acceptable, what won’t make other people uneasy, what keeps everyone balanced. You understand that when someone asks; “How are you?” You can’t unload on the unexpecting. It’s not fair to them.

So, the mask goes on, you say; “Hi.”, shake a hand, exchange a few banal words which don’t require follow-up conversation, and move on. About 3/4 through the service I noticed my arms, legs were crossed and I was hunched over a little. I thought to myself; “You’re trying to become as small as possible to avoid being seen, judged, called on, noticed.” Not that any of these things were going to happen but your emotions in the midst of an anxiety episode can be a powerful motivator. I was this way the rest of the service and when it was over I exited, wishing for invisibility.

This isn’t an isolated incident. Severe anxiety is one of many mental illnesses people live with, some more successful than others. It’s part of our lives similar to anyone with a chronic disease. You do your best to enjoy the better days, endure the hard ones and hope the meds, therapy, hobbies and other treatments prescribed mean that one day the mask is no longer wanted or needed.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

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