I frequently use rpg (role playing games) to imagine and practice being my best while I recite or sing along with Man Of God, Neil Diamond’s story of acknowledging God as the Energy, Presence, and Purpose driving me in all I endeavor to think, say, and do.
I internalize Diamond’s story. I image, feel, and visualize how I may honor The One through how I respond to pop-quizzes (challenges and difficult moments) that occur and disrupt my day. Whereas previously, I would react, feel stung (take it personal), get angry, and strike back. Afterwards, when I had cooled off, recovered my composure, I would often regret my words and actions. I would apologize and it wasn’t unusual to discover the entire blowup wasn’t at all what I had perceived it. Looking back, it was often a result of me having a stressful day, not sleeping well the night before or simply being hungry, and a comment taken the wrong way – out of its intended context.
For example,
I clearly recall this serendipitous ‘Aha’ moment that took me to a new level of awareness.
Pam and I were on I-35, driving to Omaha from Dallas. We had left home before daybreak and it was now a cold dark night. We’d been on the road solid for over 10 hours. It was about 30 degrees, the highway wet and slick. We were young, tired, hungry, and unaware of our gnawing to arrive. The excitement of seeing her family had long since faded and we were still 3 hours out.
I don’t remember which of us broke the silence, or even what was said. I clearly recall there was a misunderstanding. Voices raised, words said and suddenly stunned dead silence. Followed by muffled tears and more silence.
Time stopped. Miles passed. One of us broke the silence, asking “What happened? Where did that come from? Did she really want a divorce?”
We talked, still feeling stung by the words said.
What we had said to each other as well as what the other had said to us.
Slowly, independently, we realized we had misunderstood each other. Our entire conversation had been a misunderstanding.
Pam thought I had said I didn’t want to see her family, and she should stay there for all I cared. I should leave her with her parents. She felt wounded by my words – actually – what she thought I said!
I thought Pam had said she wanted to be with her parents – to get away from me. I was stung to my heart!
Suffice it to say, before we reached Omaha, we had stopped at a roadside rest area, taken a nap, and swore our eternal love to each other. That was 50 plus years ago. I remember that trip, our words, our certainty we each knew what the other was saying and how deeply it hurt.
We were mistaken.
We had forgotten to confirm our perception. Sometimes we get carried away in the moment and leave it to default. That’s generally not in our best interest. When we leave it to up in the air – a misunderstanding in this case – it often leads us to react versus respond. To strike out at … versus to ask, to understand, and find common ground to forgive and love as described here. When we find our common ground, forgive, and love, then we’re acknowledging God as the Energy, Presence, and Purpose driving us in all we endeavor to think, say, and do as Diamond’s song above illustrates.
Yeah. Hell yeah! My story is one of countless stories, universal challenges and heartaches experienced by almost everyone.
This is a model of how I overcame it.
Yes, what I describe takes desire, intention, and practice.
Is it worth it?
Remember the Two Wolves story? What I feed – give my energy to – grows. Same for you. Will you use this as a model and play with it, put your own spin on it? If you do, you’ll make it yours. If you do that, it’ll become second nature and you will transform your life in ways you dream of. Similar to Diamond’s Hell Yeah story and described here.
Naturally, if Diamond’s music isn’t your style, if its story doesn’t inspire you to see yourself in that model, use music that does. Music is almost magical in its power to assist us to assimilate new skills, transform our perspective. It empowers me and I use it extensively. It will work for you as well.
Until Next Time,
Joe