I drive myself crazy, I really do. I have a tedious habit that comes out when I’m with a group of people. When I do it they look down. They can’t meet my eye. They look at each other in askance. I’ve even seen eye-rolling from some of my friends that know me well. It’s almost as if they’re saying, “Here we go again.”
And the sad thing is that, until recently, I wasn’t aware that it was a habit that made others uncomfortable. In fact, I thought it was rather an endearing habit. My first clue that this was not so was when my friend, mentor and spiritual preceptor’s eyes darkened in anger when I did it for the umpteenth time. But he’s too polite to say anything. Probably because he doesn’t want to scare me off just yet as he knows there’s still work to be done and that I’m not beyond repair.
But, it was a new friend of mine, who has absolutely no filter, who nailed it. She said, “You know what Jacques. When you do this you become so unattractive it’s actually so tedious.” Phew, that was harsh. Especially since I’ve been using ‘Oil of Delay’ for years to keep me attractive. But this observation was just what I needed.
By now you’re probably chomping at the bit and shouting, “What’s the damn tedious habit, already?”
Self-deprecation.
“Huh.” That’s probably your reaction after wading through 200+ words to get to this lame habit. That was my reaction too, “Being modest and making jokes about myself is a bad habit?” Look, I know I’m critical on myself sometimes (ok, a lot) but this surely can’t make me so unattractive that it’s tedious, can it? And modesty is good, isn’t it? Nobody likes a braggart, even I get that.
I mean I’ve done stuff and I have some achievements. Off the top of my head I can come up with: I’ve conducted more than 2000 workshops and talks. I’ve won more speech contests than I can count. I’m a Distinguished Toastmaster and a Toastmaster of the Year recipient. I’ve come first in a Kung Fu sparring contest. I’ve had more than 300 articles published (on real paper) and double that online. I’ve ghostwritten six books. I’ve written more than 5-million words. I was a soldier. I was a Dale Carnegie instructor. I was a plumbers mate. I told my first story and got paid for it when I was three. I’ve dated models, actresses, CEOs and even a Shaman and everyone else in-between.
Phew. writing this paragraph was really hard for me and it made me slightly ill. Why? Well you see, I was taught that it’s better to be seen and not heard. I’ve been taught that when my brother (who had dyslexia) showed his school report, to make a big fuss. My report was unimportant and I had to keep it hidden (maybe I thought I was unimportant and had to keep my talents hidden). I’ve been taught that when I voiced an opinion to my step father that it is unworthy because it was either punched down or shouted down. I’ve been taught to hide my light under a bushel lest I offend anyone with my pride and arrogance.
It looks like I have to unlearn all this at 52. You see, what I’m starting to get that every time I make a self-deprecating comment, I break my self-esteem and fracture my self-worth. I get that I’m telling people that I’m not good enough. I get that nobody wants to watch someone beat themselves up (they have enough problems with their own self-loathing to have to worry about mine). And, I get that whenever I’m on a self-deprecating and self-loathing roll, I spit in the eye of the creator. I cannot believe that the creator ever made junk. I’m not junk and neither are you. I have to believe that I’m magnificent and that I get to play on this planet because I am here for a purpose.
I have to believe what Marianne Williamson said in her book, A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”