Reflections On This Special Day. And, Good Enough Is No Longer Good Enough. Ending a Friendship 3/13/14

The Inn

       Hello everyone, good afternoon.  Today is special.  Three years ago, this inn opened its doors. This place is
a youngster.  I know of no other blog that is an inn. When it started, I had no idea how much I would grow by being its innkeeper.

         I am happy.  Today's milestone helps me note the progress that has taken place during the intervening time. When the inn opened, I was a director in Fremont, CA.  Now, I work for myself, enjoying what I do for others, with more autonomy and I have plenty of opportunities to exercise my autonomy.

        Three years ago, my supportive network was pretty good.  Now, it is better.  Improvement through subtraction and clarity. I'm happier, less frustrated.  I am clearer about my needs when connecting, bonding with others.

         I love the quality of my friendships. Emotional vampires have been banished, along with narcissists and the lack of reciprocity, mutuality and emotional safety.  They are now marked by honesty. It is from this quality that intimacy derives. If we operate from a controlling perspective---or as if everything is alright, when it isn't---we lack sincerity, authenticity.  Others are not truly knowing us, characterological pimples and all. None of us have it all together. Putting on fronts is simply indicating that our fear buttons are being pushed.

         We are not representing our true selves.

        I communicated my needs recently by ending a friendship I had since twelve. One of several decades.  Yes, this friendly innkeeper did that.  My former best friend's response validated my action.  He wants our friendship to continue.  But, seeing one another once a year, and only when our time was squeezed into accomplishing a task of his at the same time, is not friendship. Nor was that acceptable. Not in my book.

        He cannot connect with his feelings. His reply when I wrote him that I gave up on our friendship was straight from a book on writing business letters.  Words from the head, not the heart. That doesn't work for me.  Was it tough saying goodbye to someone with whom I could talk for hours with, at one time, with whom we have a long shared history?  Indeed.  But, in another way, it wasn't.

        I have grown.  I have recovery. There no uncertainty as to what are my must haves and can't stand. No longer do I care for emptiness, inane, unacceptable and unsatisfying relationships.  Good enough is no longer good enough.  Life has so many great things available, if I have the confidence to live my dreams and express what I want.

        This friend is talented and highly sought.  He now will have more time to spend with others, now that we are no longer getting together.  God bless him, I love him, but I am letting him go.  He was my best man when I got married and I was his.  Best friends since the eighth grade.  He named a son after me, and he's Japanese.  Yes, his son has the name Pablo.

         But, we get what we tolerate. We train people how to treat us.  Life evolves. He hasn't.  I have. I accept that disparity by moving on. We are the average of the five people we hang out with. Life is too short to try propping up unfulfilling relationships that have demonstrated over the years that they are not working out.

        Since this inn has opened, I have grown.  I'm more patient.  Patience does not mean accepting unacceptable behavior.  See the previous two paragraphs.  I was patient to begin with, but I'm less codependent.  I adhere to my boundaries.  I'm less controlling, a better listener and more present, in touch with my feelings, and expressing them compassionately.  Thank God for personal growth.

        Emotionally, I'm in the best place ever. The joy and serenity I have is once source for my Attitude of Gratitude.  Knowing equanimity, even during turbulent times has made my life more stable.  Understanding life more clearly allows me to respond and not get triggered, especially when dealing with areas that were once vulnerable.  Can't beat that.

***

        In thirty-six months I've written 835 posts.  That's 23.2 a month.  In the last eleven months the inn had 200,000 views, 8,000 this month.  It has passed the 300,000 view mark.  Thank you, for making this inn not so lonely as I do my duties as the innkeeper.  The number of guests having stays here is gaining momentum.

        Writing frequently revealed my literary inadequacies and your patience.  Thank you.  Many of you know I consider writing for this inn to cooking lasagna.  If you read a post of mine, check it out the next day. Whatever I write the first day is the first draft.  Presenting flawed writing doesn't bother me.  I am not what I do.  I have value for simply being me, warts and all.  I am not externally referented.  I'm thankful for freedom from perfectionism and the insecurities usually associated with it, thank God. Consistency and diligence precedes perfectionism, or worrying what others think.

"I block my own well-being each time I base my self-worth on what I do, or what others think of me."                                     Courage to Change, p 118

 "All the beautiful sentiments in the world weigh less than a simple lovely action."  Courage, p 86

        Lasagna usually tastes better the second day.  Same here.  If you visit this inn, you will note the following day I re-cook what was written.  I adding the spice of  hyperlinks, quotations and photos.  I even have to sometimes dig out the stones, saving your mental teeth.

       These rocks of grammatical errors and misspellings are the result of not-too-careful editing, being normal.  I also make the previous day's fare more substantial, adding the ground meat of expanded thoughts.  The same will be true with this post.  Take a look, tomorrow, you'll see what I mean.

       As a musician, I know practicing an instrument develops my "chops."   Same holds true with penning posts routinely.  For most of my life I've been a public speaker, teacher, using outlines, speaking extemporaneously.  Writing is an entirely different.

       Being the innkeeper of this place helped me deeply understand the joy of writing.  I write, because I can't not write.  I must.  I agree with Tolstoy who said every time he wrote, he left a little bit of his blood in the inkwell.  There is so much within me that needs emptying out in literary form.

      I owe a big portion of gratitude to you, guests of this inn. Thank you for joining me for the literary ride.  I have progressed from riding along in a metal, push-pedal kids car to driving a real one.

       The improvement in my writing over the past three years enables me to take guests of this inn on more extensive tours along the coast of my imagination.  We'll  also explore the territory of subjects that enable us to enjoy a greater Attitude of Gratitude.

      Please join me in celebrating today's anniversary!

A grateful and delighted innkeeper.  Happier yet, that you dropped by. Thank you for sharing this day with me!

                       Pablo