"THE MAGIC SUITCASE" . A MODERN FAIRY TALE otherwise known as WHY ARE RELATIONSHIPS SO DAMNED HARD? Chapter 1

Once upon a time, long, long ago, boys and girls were born, much as happens in our own time.  Each was bestowed with the an inheritance, which we still receive.

It all began when an addle minded witch cast a spell.  She had been watching over the people in this world, and decided that she would help them. She had seen the pain, sorrow and joy that came with being a human. She believed that these emotions caused many problems and ought to be somehow contained.
Her solution was brilliant. Or so she thought.

As every child came into this world, each would receive the gift of a magic suitcase, engraved in gold, with each child's name.

Every experience that happened to every child was to be filed into their suitcase. And so it was.

The suitcases began to fill with all the events and knowledge each child was gaining and each case grew larger and heavier.

By the children's third birthdays, the cases were expanded and already very heavy, but as long as the child lived, the cases would never stop filling themselves.  It became quite obvious that it would be impossible for a little ones, to carry this gift as they aged, yet, still, the cases continued to grow. The addled witch had screwed up. Shocker!




The toddlers began to leave their cottages to make friends and see what was outside their homes. What a sight it was. These poor little things, dragging these heavy bags around wherever they went. Well, where they tried to go. They were unable to carry them for too long so they never got very far.
                                
This was severely limiting, and if they could barely leave their homes, how ever would they learn the ways of the world? It had been forbidden for the parents to help or carry the load.  

That belonged only to the person whose name was inscribed on the case. The gift had now become a burden.
                                      
The witch could not help the adults to help their children.  She was rather incompetent, and later sentenced to an institution for  mentally inane. The Elders of the world held emergency meetings. Each town decided that no matter the cost, the time had come to call in the most powerful magician of all. The Wizard.  And we all know. All magic comes with a price.
           
                                      

The Wizard devised a plan.  This was how the custom of Storing The Bundles came to be. 

The  local wizards, did as they had been instructed by their boss. The could not undo another magicians work, but they could change it.  So, they shrank the suitcases.

They were so tiny that they could fit deep within the toddler's brain.  With a twitch of the wand it was done.  The memories would be stored there forever. The children would not be burdened by these impossibly heavy suitcases. The children were free to go everywhere and anywhere. The Wizard's plan was a bit diabolical.

The knowledge from the suitcase would be there, but would be inaccessible to its owner. It would be as if these things hadn't happened. Well, at least the children would no longer remember that these things had happened. And even though these experiences were the most profound things that had occurred in their little lives, they would have no memory of them at all. Or would they?

The Wizard decreed that the experiences, although unrecalled, would continue to mold each child. The child would have no clue as to why they felt or acted the way they did.  But then what child would care about that? Not any that I know.
Life continued as it had. The children went to school, made friends and began to grow older. As they grew, they began to look back on their upbringings. None could seem to remember anything going back any further than age three. Others could not remember that far back. Well, said the children. That must be normal and it was accepted that memories did not exist.
               
          
This is the beginning of how we developed the baggage we all drag along with us throughout our lives. We cannot remember our first experiences, but that does not mean they are not there.

We continue to develop new experiences and learn new things. On our own, we develop a system to carry them.  It's only fitting since it feels familiar. The uncomfortable emotions may be the ones that get filed away in the recesses, back near the first case. Others may stay closer at hand because they give us a sense of control, happiness or love. All of our experiences are carried by us in our suitcases that have become known as baggage.

You know what this has to do with relationships, right? Everyone you meet has their own baggage. It can't be helped. Witches and Wizards made it so.

You, however, do not have magic. What you do with your baggage is up to you.

To Be Continued......... Only if you tell me that you want to hear more. Otherwise, you will have to figure out what to do with all your own bags.
Seriously. Like if you want me to continue.

IS IT A GOOD THING OR A BAD THING TO CARE ABOUT WHAT OTHERS THINK ABOUT YOU?

I've been at this blogging thing for several months now.  I've written over one hundred posts and after publishing a post, I always find myself checking the statistics.

It's not a compulsion, Thank God, but it is a need. What am I looking for?

It's not just one thing. I suppose I want to be valued. I want people to notice me, in this case, it's in the social media world. I want validation that my thoughts  and theories are worthwhile.

One would hope that by age 66, one would no longer need or want these things. Especially from strangers whose opinion shouldn't carry any weight. I mean, you could be way crazier than me, no offense intended, but you understand what I'm saying.

I enjoy writing. I enjoy painting and photography and reading, more than writing, yet I find myself sitting here and tapping away and spending an inordinate amount of time on these posts.  Even being retired, I only have so much time in a day.


My husband said from the get go to keep the post short. What wife listens to  her husband? What woman doesn't use too many words?

Anyway. I still haven't figured out exactly what my blog is about. I assume other people have a theme and stick to it. I'm obviously not built that way. There is actually a theme, but it's not easy to see. There is a thread that runs through the posts that links them together. The thread is me and who I am.

I suppose, if this really meant that much, I'd put in the effort to learn how to write a "successful" blog. I assume that's measured by how many followers you have. Researching what to do, maybe looking for sponsors, I can't say because I haven't don't too much of that. And being my age, I don't have any friends who can help me with this. Well, none that live here and not in New York.

HOW MUCH CREDENCE DO YOU GIVE TO THE OPINIONS OF OTHERS?

Being brought up in my home, the answer was; way too much. My measure of self worth depended on what my parents and teachers told me. As I got older, I tried to shake that off. I knew that I had value. The one thing that people seemed to agree on was that I was smart and funny. But I still needed to hear that I was pretty, and nice and dressed well and had a good personality and whatever else. And, it had to come from outsiders. "Cause I sure as hell didn't believe any of those things. And even if someone said something nice, I couldn't put it into my esteem bank. The one I had was like a sieve.  My self-esteem was like riding on an elevator. Whoever I was with was the one pushing the buttons as to whether the lift was going up or down.  If you fed me positive feedback I felt good. Negative things would drop me like a sack of potatoes.
At the end of the day, it all fell into the hole in my soul.

Years of therapy and allowing myself to BELIEVE I had value and worth have allowed me to discount other people's opinions. Of course, there are people's opinions that I value more than others, and those are the ones that I listen to. I don't have to agree with them, but I am open to hearing what someone else has to say.



I'm in a good place. I like myself. I'm doing things I enjoy. This thought just popped into my head.  I wonder if this blog isn't a way of my wanting to share what I've learned, with the hope of helping other people to learn what I have. Hoping you don't have to wait until you're a senior person to find the joys in life.
One of my beliefs is that one of the reasons I am here, on this earth is to be a teacher. That was how I viewed doing psychotherapy. Teaching you who you are. Who you could be.  

HOW MUCH CREDENCE DO YOU GIVE YOUR OPINION OF YOURSELF?

We are absolutely fantastic at believing our opinion of other people. We so easily judge them and it's usually not about their good qualities.

However, we often do the same to ourselves without even knowing it.

It's not an easy task to look at yourself and admit to what you believe. We usually repress or deny those bad feelings. We pretend to the world that we like ourselves. Some people walk around like peacocks and come off obnoxious in their self love. Others, (like the people pleasers) make those "others "feel good so that they, think that you feel good too. Or at least they think you are a good person. You probably are, but you don't believe it.

                                                              

There are the people who know they don't have good esteem and cover it with humor, self-deprecating remarks and sarcasm. People give them positive feedback because who doesn't enjoy laughing? Especially if it's at someone else's expense? 

Then there are the people who use their woundedness as a shield. They are often the ones who tell you all that goes wrong in their lives and that they're depressed and don't know how to get out of whatever hole they've dug. You can respond to them by trying to help, which usually doesn't work because they don't believe they can be  helped. You can respond by treating them with caution, not wanting to make things worse. Many people eventually respond to them by keeping enough distance so they don't have to deal with the negativity. Then, the walking wounded get to validate their belief that they are unlikeable, or un-fixable, or worthless.



Oh. How could I forget the "normal" people?  The ones who know they are okay. They are open to being criticized without being mortally wounded, they can see themselves from someone else's opinion, but their own belief in their value doesn't get shaken by the thoughts of other people.  That's what I think of as having a healthy ego.  Enough self-esteem to know you are of value, just because you're breathing.

BUILDING SELF-ESTEEM:

First, you do need to admit to yourself that it's something you are lacking. Once you recognize this and realize that it's okay, you're open to change.

Then you need to do some work so you can change. In my last post I wrote a lot about belief systems. How difficult they are to throw aside. This is one of the easier ones, because it is about yourself. You are the one in charge of your thoughts, so it's not as difficult as changing your opinion of the world.

And you actually have to do something. It's what a very wise friend once told me. To build esteem, you have to do esteem-able things. And you have to start that esteem bank and make sure you've plugged up the holes.


You do that by telling yourself over and over and over, that you love and accept yourself exactly as you are. It sounds corny or crazy, but it is exactly like taping over an already used tape. Of course with digital technology this isn't quite the way to say it. But most of us remember VCRS and music recorders that used tapes. You could record something and listen or watch it and then, re-use the tape by recording over it. That' like what you need to do. You have tapes in your brain that keep telling you that you are not worthwhile, or you're ugly, or stupid or fat. Whatever you recorded when you were little keeps playing over and over keeping you stuck in the past.

Your job now is to rewrite those tapes. To do that, you need to record new ones in your brain pathways. It's not hard, it's boring and you have to remember to do it, but you can.

THEORY:

We learn to give the opinions of others, more value than our opinions of ourselves if our opinions of ourselves are not good.  This is often because those opinions  are based on old mind "tapes" that were recorded in our childhoods. In order to teach children to behave, parents usually have to tell them what they are doing wrong and then forget to tell them what they are doing right.  And most parents are too stressed to realize what messages they are sending. Some parents are just doing what was done to them. Since those tapes are old. out of date and inaccurate, they need to be updated.

We can do that by writing over the old tapes and listening to the new ones.  A good book that deals with this is one I've mentioned before, You Can Heal Your Life, by Louise Hay.

I am capable of loving and accepting myself. I deserve to enjoy my life. I love and accept myself, flaws and all.  Once you do, what other people who don't matter can't hurt you. And those that do matter, won't want to.

so, is it good or bad to care?

It's both of course. You nor I live in a vacuum. We need to get along with other people and sometimes they have helpful and important insights that can make us even better. The trick, as always is to find balance. To know when someone is telling you something for your betterment, or because of some nefarious reason. To know yourself well enough to not be injured by what other people think. Even, it they may be right. It should never be able to take away your self-love, which I believe is a God* given right.

Oh yeah. I forgot to mention that I REALLY Love dancing.

*That is the word most commonly used, but it is utilized by me, to stand for whatever your belief is.  And if you don't have one, that's fine too.

I'D LIKE TO THANK YOU

Whether You've been reading all along, or stumble upon this from time to time, whether or not you decide to follow or pass this by. Whatever you do is okay with me.  Basically, that's because I'm okay with me. My hope is that you can get there too.