Posts Tagged ‘Verizon customer service’

Part 5 of 5. Great Love. Sorting According To True Priorities

For those of you reading the Series, here we are in Part 5, the final post. You’ve had practice Observing yourself in quite a new way. And you know the value of sorting  reactions, and how to begin to sort.

Onward, with sorting!

Last time, I gave an example about my phone. 

My reaction wasn’t helping me in any way I could think of. And I did think about it. Reacting didn’t feel good. It didn’t solve my problem. It didn’t help me figure out my phone issue.

I practiced a simple thing. I felt my reactions, considered it, welcomed it as part of me. I sat with it.

Did I want to explore a new way of being? Yes, I did.

Hmmm… what could I do instead? What else have I got?

I love the Verizon store near me, so I paid them a visit. Why not ask the experts? I love experts. Experts are the shortcut on the desktop of life.

They are so helpful at this Verizon store. When I walk in, someone with a tablet asks what I need, and they put me in cue for the next available phone whiz.

How great is that! It’s totally brilliant customer service. I felt taken care of immediately.

When I get to the person helping me, they are smart and fast, as well as enormously patient (a stunning combo, I must say). I’ve admired every Verizon Zen Techie who has helped me.

This time, my phone whiz was a young woman with wild purple, green and pink hair, dark lipstick and tattoos. (I love that Verizon apparently doesn’t have a dress code, hair code or tattoo code.)

She whizzed around my phone with lightning speed, and informed me that I have automatic tech help because of my phone insurance. Apparently, I can ask for tech help with a guaranteed 15 minute response time.

She set up the App for me. And she used the app to solve my problem.

Well, that was dreamy easy!

THE TRANSLATION

This simple example translates well to relationships — things that we think are hard and frustrating or unsolvable involving our partner are often really simple, if we’re willing to set aside our current knee jerk reaction long enough to consider that our “now” view is not the only view.

But that’s the key. We must be willing to consider the existence of another, happier possibility.

That’s all it takes.

A SHORT STORY

Once upon a time a very upset woman blurted to me about her “horrible husband.”

I listened.

Quite a while.

She had a long and well-justified story. At one point, out of curiosity, to learn about her gear-shifting ability, I interrupted her story and casually asked her to reel off a quick list of things he did right.

This caused a sort of panic in her eyes and posture.

Apparently, this was not a question she had considered recently.

Many seconds went by while she struggled in silence. I did not help her. I wondered how she would rally around this question.

Several times, she started to speak, but stopped and thought some more. Finally, she named two things:

  1. He gave her head and neck massages.
  2. And “he lets me do what I want.”

Her evaluation of him, her blurt, her thinking process, her answer to my question — all of these pointed to something hanging in her relationship closet.

Do you know what it is?

(Don’t scan down to check the answer yet, see if you can come up with it. I’ll put in beautiful space while you think.)

WHAT’S HANGING IN HER CLOSET?

She’s hard on other people.

And therefore, and more fundamentally, she’s hard on herself.

That’s her simple problem — she’s hard on herself.

Her problem has nothing to do with her husband. He’s just in the neighborhood.

I described the process of noticing and setting aside her reactions to her husband, one by one as they come up, and how she could assume that all roads lead to Rome (her). That all the ways she disapproves of him are actually all the ways she disapproves of herself (or would disapprove if she did what he does).

I mentioned that the process for her would be about becoming more aware and kind — to herself.

She nearly fell off her chair.

She gave me that “are you frigging kidding me” look — you know the look I’m talking about. She probably wanted to quit right then. Walk out and never look back.

At the very least, roll over and go to sleep.

She wanted to do anything but shine a light on how much she disapproved of herself. She would rather that stay in the dark back corner of her closet.

She was a trooper though. She went through strong emotions sitting there in the chair. First, there was the rain, then the hot sun, and finally storm clouds. I listened, waited, watched.

She decided to make a list of what she did right over the coming week.

She had the best of intentions.

She came back to her next appointment with a list of things she “may have” done right, and kept apologizing for not really knowing how to come up with the list because “who could really say whether she did it well or not…”

She was reluctant to give herself any credit — at all — for anything.

Hanging in her closet was the idea that if she was unhappy, it was surely because of someone else. Her main block to true happiness was apparently living in her very own house, wearing pants and a shirt, and sleeping with her.

Since he was the problem, she was doing her best to tidy him. She was sure that cleaning up his act was her business. Then she’d be happy.

Oops.

No.

What I say and think about them is who I am.

When I have a reaction to someone, that’s what’s hanging in my relationship closet. If I take it out and take a good look at it, I can own it instead of pretend it’s not mine.

I can sit with it. Meditate about it. I can note how I am (doing, saying, being) what I’m accusing another of being.  I can be with my dark side, my underbelly, my negative emotion.  See it. Welcome it. Feel it. Notice the results of my thinking or my actions. Be amazed. Get curious. Investigate.

Only then will I have breathing space to consider another way of being. Is this way of being truly me? Do I prefer this way of being? What else could I do that I would enjoy more?

I explore alternatives.

When I’m done sorting, organizing what’s left is a breeze, because what’s left makes sense. It’s me.

Do you need help sorting? Illuminating?

Flag me down.

 

 

 

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She’s Got Love Fingers

Christie Lenee can play a guitar. She’s the 2017 International Finger Style Guitar Champion of the Year. In September of last year in London, she also won Acoustic Guitarist of the Year.

But lucky for us, she’s not just a champion guitar player. Christie Lenee is also quite the composer.

A friend of hers, Michael Pukac, requested that she write a song, one he described as “the story of love.” She scribbled notes and went to work.

Through Christie’s ability to imagine, his desire became music. Now she plays this song for the world with her love fingers. Lucky you, lucky me, lucky us.

Take very good care of yourself this week. Why not sing a little…

Love,

Terri

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Rise Up by Andra Day

What a great set of words for these oncoming days.

Rise Up

 
You’re broken down and tired
Of living life on a merry go round
And you can’t find the fighter
But I see it in you so we gonna walk it out
And move mountains
We gonna walk it out
And move mountains
And I’ll rise up
I’ll rise like the day
I’ll rise up
I’ll rise unafraid
I’ll rise up
And I’ll do it a thousand times again
And I’ll rise up
High like the waves
I’ll rise up
In spite of the ache
I’ll rise up
And I’ll do it a thousand times again
For you
For you
For you
For you
When the silence isn’t quiet
And it feels like it’s getting hard to breathe
And I know you feel like dying
But I promise we’ll take the world to its feet
And move mountains
Bring it to its feet
And move mountains
And I’ll rise up
I’ll rise like the day
I’ll rise up
I’ll rise unafraid
I’ll rise up
And I’ll do it a thousand times again
For you
For you
For you
For you
All we need, all we need is hope
And for that we have each other
And for that we have each other
And we will rise
We will rise
We’ll rise, oh, oh
We’ll rise
I’ll rise up
Rise like the day
I’ll rise up
In spite of the ache
I will rise a thousand times again
And we’ll rise up
High like the waves
We’ll rise up
In spite of the ache
We’ll rise up
And we’ll do it a thousand times again
For you
For you
For you
For you
Ah, ah, ah, ah
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Cassandra Monique Batie / Jennifer Decilveo
Rise Up lyrics © BMG Rights Management

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Rippling Abs, Anyone?

Rippling Abs, Anyone?

During this strange time in history, I noticed y’all were tackling all sorts of interesting projects. I decided I needed one, too—something positive to remember the pandemic of 2020 by.
 
I decided to pay attention to something I had abandoned…
 
Nope, I’m not cleaning my garage. I am not organizing one single thing. I’m not planting a garden or cleaning up my yard.
 
Instead, I decided to take care of myself better. This, folks, has made all the difference for me.
 
With relatively little time and effort on my part, I feel so much better than I did a month ago.
 
On March 30, I got on the exercise bike and the yoga mat for the first time in a long time, and did 30 minutes each. I liked it so much that I decided to do it every day. But I fell short of that, and changed my commitment to every other day, which felt more manageable, reasonable, and doable.
 
I also get off the bike after every song, take a couple of sips of water, shake out my legs and arms for a few seconds, and get back on. This makes the bike project a reasonable proposition, too.
 
Daily walks of any length—by myself, or with my little guy, Jackson—are a fresh air bonus.
 
My recumbent exercise bike has pulleys to work my upper body while I pedal, which gets my heart rate up fast, and also helps my whole-body strength. It feels good to get up from writing, or doing a consulting session with a client, to do something physically challenging while listening to good music.
 
After only a month, I feel a sheet of muscles on the front of me I haven’t felt for a very, very long time. Goodness gracious. Who knew they were there. I’ll be posting rippling ab photos soon, I’m sure.
 
I have no idea what the scales have to say about my bike/yoga project—I don’t care. Paying attention to scales tends to send me sideways, and therefore, I’m ignoring them completely.
 
But—I LOVE the way I feel! Hang in there, everyone.
 

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Terri Crosby

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