I sat straight up in the bathtub, splashing water over the rim and onto the floor. That’s it! Oh my God! That’s it! I am too successful! My books are doing too well; I am doing too well. Rhonda feels she doesn’t deserve to do well. She has to be punished. Rather than being able to fully enjoy what I am doing, I place myself in situations in which I feel bad. In which I cannot be happy. Oh my God! This thing with Karen is a covert pattern that sabotages my own happiness. As long as I am unhappy about Karen, what she does, what she does not do, and how I think she treats me, I am not happy, and Rhonda is being punished.
Then I realized that somehow Rhonda must have realized that she was reacting according to the pattern. Perhaps it was the praying, or her deep desire to prove herself to other people. Perhaps it was that her mind was changing, and she realized that she did not have to be punished. I knew I was close to the answer. I had to remember what happened next.
Rhonda returned to the Federal Office of Investigation with the papers they had requested. They told her to have a seat; they couldn’t find her file. They looked for hours, and the file was never found. They told her she was free to go. Rhonda was relieved. But she was still hurt by the whole affair, and it affected her law school graduation. Like her graduation from college, the ceremony was anticlimactic. Because Rhonda had gone to law school for the wrong reasons, graduation did not bring her the fulfillment she was seeking. So many people had doubted that she could ever make it, and she had proved them wrong. But Daddy was dead, and Nett was too ill to attend. So neither of them was present to witness her accomplishment.
The three years of law school had been grueling. Rhonda hardly had the strength to celebrate. Constant money problems had taken their toll. Trying to understand briefs and motions and Supreme Court cases was mentally and physically exhausting. Trying to remember all of the things she was supposed to know about being a priest, and constant worry about Nett, even after the betrayal, had added to the heavy burden she carried with her all through school.
The children were ecstatic. Their mother was going to be a lawyer! They were famous people on the block. Rhonda knew she was “famous” in their minds, but that wasn’t enough, because she blamed herself for what she had put them through. Watching them get dressed on the morning of graduation, Rhonda wondered if it had all been worth it. Damon and Gemmia had after-school jobs and were handling most of the household bills. Nisa, who was trying her best to get through puberty, was having a great deal of trouble. She had a reading disability and was falling behind in school. She needed her mother in a way that Damon and Gemmia never had. Rhonda had had neither the presence of mind nor the ability to give her the nurturing and support she craved. Rhonda had never learned how to do that. She had only learned the rules.
Adeyemi was wandering. Every now and then, he would have a little fling, and each time he did, Rhonda would find out about it. They had tried living together, but in the end, Rhonda moved out on her own. Their relationship was changing, and it was frightening to her to realize that many things in her life had changed significantly. Graduation from law school meant things were about to change even more. She wasn’t sure how much more change she could take.
Rhonda was offered a job in Philadelphia. She wanted to go, but she didn’t want to leave Nett. Adeyemi didn’t want to leave New York. He didn’t want to be that far from his children, and he was in school at Lincoln University. Rhonda had many decisions to make. Graduation meant that she didn’t have long to make them.
She spent most of the summer studying for the bar exam. Once it was over, she asked Nett if she wanted to move to Philadelphia. She was sad but relieved when Nett said she didn’t want to go. Again, Nett understood that Rhonda had to get on with her life. Rhonda understood that she had to put some distance between herself and Nett, for her own good.
The month before Rhonda was to move to Philadelphia, Adeyemi decided he was going to give his marriage another try. Rhonda had seen it coming this time, but she did everything in her power to avoid it.
“All of the things I have learned in our relationship, I need to share with her,” Adeyemi explained. “She stayed with me for fifteen years. She is a habit that is hard for me to break. I know that if you and I are meant to be together, we will be. But for right now, my wife and my children are what I need.”
Rhonda sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the man she had loved since she was thirteen. She knew he was leaving and that all she could do was cry.
“Don’t do that. Please. You have so much good ahead of you. Don’t cry. You have to believe that this is for the best.”
She did not believe that at all. She believed that he was a dog, a pig. He was just another in a long line of men who had used her, then dumped her. She didn’t say any of that to him; she just cried.
There always comes a time of elimination. The earth sheds each year. The trees and flowers let go of their identity. As the old identity dies, a new identity is born. The body sheds constantly. Some of it happens invisibly, so naturally and silently that we do not realize it is happening. The heart and the spirit also shed. They shed the emotions and experiences that we no longer need. They shed the things that stunt our growth. This, too, is an invisible process. Yet because of the energy involved, the emotional energy, we often feel the emotional and spiritual shedding. It feels as if we are dying. We are. Just like the flowers and the trees, we are dying to an old identity. This shedding, or death, is not the end of us. It is the beginning.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
What’s the Lesson When You Have Mastered All the Wrong Lessons?
What could you want that forgiveness cannot give? Do you want peace? Forgiveness offers it. Do you want happiness, a quiet mind, a certainty of purpose, and a sense of worth and beauty that transcends the world? Do you want care and safety, and warmth of sure protection always? Do you want a quietness that cannot be disturbed, a gentleness that cannot be hurt, a deep abiding comfort and a rest so perfect it can never be upset? All this forgiveness offers you. You who want peace can find it only by complete forgiveness.
Not asking for what I want.
Not saying exactly what I mean.
Not saying things when I think it will upset other people.
Not telling the truth.
Telling only half of the truth.
Not honoring (paying attention, acting on the basis of) what I know is true.
Waiting too long to tell the truth that I know.
Not saying anything when I have something to say.
Doing what will cause me the least amount of pain or discomfort. Also known as taking the easy way out.
Asking other people what they think I should do.
Being overly concerned with what other people say about me.
Being overly concerned with what other people think about me.
Not asking for help when I need it.
Waiting until the last minute to ask for help.
Waiting until the last minute.
Doing things I believe will make people like me.
Needing to be liked to my own self-detriment.
Being afraid to say no.
Staying in a situation when I know it is causing me pain.
Ignoring the pain in fear of losing a familiar situation.
Taking on more than I can possibly do (so that people will like me).
Not keeping my word (because I have taken on more than I can possibly do).
Not exercising every day.
Trying to control people and situations when I believe I can get hurt.
Not having a constructive way to express anger.
Being afraid to express anger.
Believing that I should not get angry.
Making decisions in fear.
Making decisions that I believe will bring material rewards only.
Not acknowledging the consequences of my decisions.
Not taking the time to assess all options available.
Doing things the same way I
have always done things.
Not paying attention to the way I do things.
Being afraid to admit that I know what to do.
Acting like I don’t know what to do.
Letting other people believe and treat me like I don’t know what to do.
Allowing myself to be pressured into making decisions based on what others think I should do.
Being afraid to make a mistake.
Being afraid that a mistake cannot be rectified.
Feeling afraid that I want too much.
Trying to be like everyone else.
Being afraid to be myself.
Not trusting myself.
A Course in Miracles
I acknowledge that there are things that I do which are not in my own best interest. I forgive myself for doing the things I have done that are not in my own best interest.
I acknowledge that, most of the time, I have no conscious awareness of the things I do that are not in my best interest. I forgive myself for being unaware of the things that I do that are not in my own best interest.
I acknowledge that when I have been consciously aware that my actions were not in my best interest, I chose, in response to the fear I experienced, to continue the course of action. I forgive myself for choosing in response to fear.
I acknowledge that I have been an active, although unconscious, participant in the creation of pain and discomfort in my life and the lives of others. I forgive myself for unconscious participation in the creation of pain and discomfort for myself and others.
I acknowledge that there are occasions on which I have been an active and conscious participant in the creation of pain and discomfort in my life and in the lives of others. I forgive myself for conscious participation in the creation of pain and discomfort for myself and for others.
I acknowledge that I have made conscious choices and decisions being aware that the decision or the choice was not in my own best interest, but in pursuit of monetary gain or reward. I forgive myself for placing the value of money before my best interest.
I acknowledge that when I experience fear, I do not tell the truth. I forgive myself for not telling the truth under all circumstances.
I acknowledge that I have allowed myself to believe things about myself that are not true. I forgive myself for believing things about myself that are not true.
I acknowledge that I have been angry with myself for not being able to change my behavior. I forgive myself for being angry with myself.
I acknowledge that I have been angry with others and held them responsible for my inability to change myself. I forgive myself for being angry with others. I forgive myself for holding others responsible for my actions and my life.
I acknowledge that I am a child of God. I acknowledge that I am valuable, worthy, and lovable. I acknowledge that God is the source and the center of my life. I acknowledge that only God can change the false beliefs I have held about myself. I acknowledge that my acknowledgment of God can and will heal the wounds I have experienced as a result of false beliefs, fear-based choices and decisions, anger-based choices and decisions, and ignorance of God’s sovereignty in my life. I forgive myself totally and unconditionally. I now ask the Holy Spirit of God to heal my wounds, to eliminate all false beliefs I have held, and to open my heart to true unconditional love.
For all I have received and all that is about to come, I am so grateful!
It was so clear—all of the wrong lessons that Rhonda had learned, and how they had influenced her life. All of the crap she had held onto and believed and acted upon because she did not know any better. I understood how her patterns, the patterns that had been etched into Rhonda’s consciousness, had become a part of my life. I also realized that until I acknowledged those patterns, until I could see them and accept them, there would be no way I could heal them. And until I healed them, I would continue to experience their effect on my life, consciously and unconsciously.
I wondered to myself if what I had discovered was true for everyone. I wondered how many people walk around totally unaware that there is another person, another level in their being, that is in total conflict with the ever-emerging newness unfolding through their consciousness. How many people realize that there is an “old you” that has never forgotten? The old you has made choices and judgments of which the “new you” may be totally unaware.
The old you is still afraid of things that the new you has long forgotten or never remembered. The old you has attachments based upon survival needs and fear, while the new you is courageously trying to break free and grow. The old you has found a comfortable place, a way of being, a safe place, and will fight to stay within that comfort zone. The new you recognizes the need to take risks, to move beyond the familiar, and is willing to do so. When the two states of consciousness are in conflict, the experience is frustration. “Why does this keep happening?” we ask. “Why can’t I seem to move beyond this place, this experience?” That had been my experience. I wondered if the same were true for everyone else.
I felt a little embarrassed and a little ashamed. How can I run around trying to heal the world when I am still so wounded? Isn’t that being dishonest? When I thought about it for a moment, I remembered what my godfather taught me, “You can only teach what you need to learn.” Then something Maya Angelou wrote came to mind: “Take a day to heal yourself, and then go and heal somebody else.” Realizing how much I have learned, how much healing I have done, I knew that I had nothing to be ashamed of. All that I learn, I teach. All that I teach opens the way for deeper learning. Although it seemed that I was learning the same lesson over and over, I realized it was at a deeper level each time. Each level held a new way of looking at things. Each level offered an opportunity to put a theory into practice as a teaching tool and a standard of learning.
Rhonda had mastered all of the wrong lessons. She was a master of living in pain, struggling for recognition, dishonoring herself, and covering up what she was feeling. She was trying to get my attention. Unfortunately, she had mastered the art of attracting negative attention. Attention that caused her more pain. Attention that further dishonored and devalued her. Unconsciously, I had embraced her patterns. I had failed to recognize and acknowledge them as they played out in my life.
Rhonda had no concept of who Iyanla was. The life Iyanla knew had unfolded moment by moment, as a function of her faith and what she believed about herself. In many of those moments, I, Iyanla, found myself running to catch up with my life. Things were growing and unfolding faster than I could imagine. Rhonda, the old me, was also running, trying to catch up. She did not want to be left again. More important, Rhonda was trying to figure out what was going on. Iyanla’s experiences were totally foreign to her. Loving, caring people surrounded Iyanla, because that is what she believed she deserved. Rhonda never knew love that was not attached to pain and suffering. Iyanla has an abundance of good things. Rhonda was taught not to expect good, and that she did not deserve to have anything good. In response to what she had been taught, Rhonda expected the worst, and usually, that is what she experienced.
Finally, I understood why Karen had come into my life. She had come to help me heal Rhonda. She had come to show me what Rhonda believed and to give me an opportunity for a deeper level of healing. I had not done a good job of integrating Rhonda’s experiences with Iyanla’s experiences. I had not honored the role that Rhonda had played in Iyanla’s emerging life. Had it not been for Rhonda, Iyanla never would have been born. I needed to forgive myself for ignoring her and for being mad at Karen. I also needed to go back and see how the breakdown between Rhonda’s consciousness and Iyanla’s consciousness had occurred. Before I could do that, I needed to give Iyanla a little boost.
There is something magical that occurs when a woman turns forty. She becomes more attractive in a sensual and seductive way. It’s not that her body gets better, but I think she becomes more comfortable with her body and learns how to maneuver it better. At forty, a woman’s eyes
begin to sparkle. Not with lust or excitement, but with wisdom. She has seen some things, done some things, and learned some things that show through her eyes. At forty, although there are things on a woman’s body that lie down, at the same time, other things stand out. They become clear. A forty-year-old woman finds her voice, gets her vision and her footing. When I turned forty, I became too old to try to be somebody else, so I stopped trying.
As I thought about it, I realized that I didn’t have any sense at all until I turned forty. At twenty-three, I thought I had all of the answers. When I turned forty, I realized that I had no idea what the question was. My life coach once told me that whatever shows up in your life is the answer. You job is to figure out the question. I had lived through many abrupt, harsh answers. At forty, I was committed to remembering the question. For me, the main question I had lived my life trying to find an answer to was, “Why can’t people love me the way I want to be loved?” At forty, the answer magically popped into my head, “Because you don’t know how to love yourself!”
I had read a great deal about learning to love yourself. I had all types of formulas, writing exercises, and physical activities that were offered as surefire ways to bring about my loving essence. Most of them worked for a while, but in the crunch, I was the first one to turn on me. I was the first one to beat up on me. To doubt me. To judge and criticize me. How do you learn to do something you have never experienced? I discovered that you must first find out what love looks like and feels like when it is offered in an unconditional way. The only experience of unconditional love I remembered was what I had experienced when I was praying.
In the midst of deep prayer, I could feel the coolness, calm, and peace of God’s presence. Based on everything I had heard and read, that presence was love. I decided to find a way to stay in that presence. To re-create it time and time again, regardless of where I was, or what I was doing. I remembered something that my friend Shaheerah had once told me. She said, “It is not necessary to re-create something you have experienced. If you simply remember it, if you allow yourself to remember what the experience felt like, you can have the same experience wherever you are, whenever you want to have it.” I decided that was what I wanted to do, to re-create love within and for myself. It took two years for me to figure out how to re-create that love experience. By my forty-second birthday, I had a plan.
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