Pride. Another tragically over/mis-used word. A revered, nearly holy noun with so much versatility. Webster's definitions vary from basic arrogance to a feeling of happiness upon accomplishment. The Bible doesn't speak very highly of pride either. Of all the things love is, proud certainly isn't one of them. Then there's those seven pesky little deadly sins, one of which is of course, pride. Yet, when we use poor judgement (either maliciously or thoughtlessly), our sense of pride is put into question: "How could Margaret have done such a thing? Has she no pride??"As though if we had more of it, we'd behave better.
I looked up the word, "pride," on the website, "UrbanDictionary.com," to see if current definitions may have evolved. It seems that the modern point of view is more supportive of folks being proud of achievements (Bonus! It doesn't even have to be your achievement...go 'Hawks!!), as long as you don't cross the line to narcissism. Why does any of this matter? Or does it? Yes. It does. If only to me. Why? Because I have reached a point in my journey where I am weary of not only semantics (patients or clients? proud or narcissistic?), but of striving to be on the same page as everyone else. I'm. Just. Not. Let me be clear: this is not some life-affirming, self-aware, spiritually-healing, soul empowering, aura-cleansing cry for attention. It's just me, always trying to learn and re-learn who I am, and which layer of my "onion psyche" I'd like to examine today. One of these layers wants to believe that I'm not the only one with all of these layers (some of you would probably instead call them, "hang-ups"). And yet another layer knows, without a doubt, that I'm the only one who even entertains these neuroses. So, back to pride. I've had lots of time, as of late, to evaluate my beliefs and perceptions of life, not as, "we," know it. Just me. I've devoted entirely too much energy to the superficial upkeep and management of appearances. As a child, I had a few things going for me: I could sin g, really well, for one thing. Beyond that, I was also "blessed" with an above-average intelligence. These were not gifts that were cultivated, rather, abilities that were trotted out to impress the visitors. Combined with the continual, personal turmoil I survived, and so very little guidance, I didn't even know what the word, "pride," meant (not internally anyway), let alone that I was entitled to have some. I just wanted normality, and in my limited experience, that meant being pretty (or at least cute), having cool clothes, perfect teeth, a big house, and the money to do whatever my friends (if I'd had any) and I wanted to do. American dream shit, right there. These were not the "Brady Bunch" adjectives that were synonymous with my youth. It is what it is, and that's a whole 'nutha post. The point is, I did not grow up feeling entitled. I was not egotistical or boastful. I learned my place in the scheme of things early, and learned to stuff away my gifts to avoid any further attention, positive or negative. As an adult, I finally began to understand pride. I had survived. To this day, I don't know if I fully appreciate my scars. But I do know that at some point in my life, I decided I wanted better. I wanted stuff. I still wanted normal. And I thought that meant having the same as everyone else (seeing a common theme, here?). It felt good to finally "have." And at some point, someone found out about those hidden gifts. More pride. It's easy to allow your ego to become over-inflated when you don't have a lot of experience keeping that potential monster in check. This is not an excuse; it is reality. Experience has taught me that pride in material objects and possessions is misplaced. People are the thing. People, cats and dogs. I allowed pride, inattentiveness and selfishness to become my norm, and in doing so, lost sight of the really important stuff. Relationships. Children. Family. Love. I still have pride. I am proud of the people my children and grandchild have become and continue to become. But I am even more grateful for the privilege of being included in their lives. I'm grateful for the opportunities I've been afforded that have ultimately saved my life. I'm grateful for the unconditional love of my husband. And the gift of being alive for one more day. "Things" have become less important, and I've learned to be so much more grateful for the few I've chosen to keep in my life (okay, some of those choices were made for me). Selfish pride keeps us from so many important opportunities: asking for help, admitting wrong-doings, learning from errors. And letting go of some of the material or physical things can often cause you to experience the stages of grief. No shit. That's a thing. At some point, either you stop assigning value to inanimate objects with the assumption that they determine your worth, or resign yourself to feeling ever-so-worthless without that shiny car you used to drive, but could no longer afford. I believe that we should never feel sorry or ashamed for our feelings. Emotions are some of the only pieces of our lives that are legitimately genuine. There is some honest merit to the phrase, "Trust your gut." (How we respond to these emotions, however, may very well be a cause for concern.) I now consciously strive to be aware of the "things" I'm proud of, and the reasons why. Materialistic pride is something I simply no longer have the room to accommodate in my life. I don't know how "sinful" it is to be proud of that shiny car. But I do know that without it, I'm no less me. I have room for more life, and spend (although granted, not entirely by personal choice) a lot less time dwelling on getting more stuff. My husband is now asleep, and quiet snores sneak over to me from his side of the bed. I am so very grateful for him. I tell him as often as I'm able how much I appreciate all that he does and is. And admittedly, I'm proud to say that he is my husband. Not because he is a prized possession. But because someone like him loves someone like me. Have a wonderful night (or day, should that be when you're reading this). I'm making this a regular thing...you've been warned. Bright Blessings - Tammi-
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