Challenge #10 ~ Freedom from Timidity

Listen to me tell the story on YouTube or read the text below:

Just some weeks ago I had a dream: An eye appeared before me, beautiful and bold. I examined the Eye and wondered at the joy it exuded. While staring and examining it in awe, the Eye swung back, like a door opening to a new pathway. I stepped through the opening into a room. In front of me, on the couch, sat my inner child or me as a child. I was ecstatic to see her and to have the opportunity to physically embrace her. I walked over to her, and although I could tell she had a different intent for my being there, I insisted on holding her as tightly as I could. My heart was full of the desire to show her I value her and love her and to defeat any neglect. She received my coddling patiently but it quickly became apparent that she had a task for me and needed me to focus.

After pressing her close to me long and hard, she asked me to go into the other room and look for something. Her asking did not take place with words. It was a look and a knowing. The door was on the other side of the room, on the wall next to the door I had entered in. I stepped through and, although it was clouded with (perhaps) smoke, I could tell there were men in the room. I searched for what she had asked me to find, not able to pay much attention to detail. My gaze swept the space quickly and discretely, not wanting to disturb or imposition those present. I ducked and tiptoed my way across the room. I gave up and moved on to the next room to search for the other thing I was asked to find, and there too I went about it bashfully and was, once again, unsuccessful. I was disappointed that I could neither help her nor complete the task.

When I awoke that morning, slowly the dream came back to me and I felt a rush of joy fill my heart. I could not believe that I had hugged Little Khadijah so tightly. Even waking up in the cold morning, I felt warmed by the thought of our embrace. Still, as I lay in the bed, I wondered about the missions I had been sent on. I could remember faint details of the colors gray and a cold, light blue clouding the vision in the first room. I remember my body being almost bent in apology as I made myself small to avoid being noticed, doing my best to disturb my surroundings as little as possible.

As soon as I was fully awake, I wrote the dream down in my journal, describing my encounter with Little Khadijah heartily. The descriptions of my excursions into the neighboring rooms received only a short mention. I felt ashamed of my timidity and did not want to commit the experience too strongly to memory. Despite my attempts to sweep past the topic, it would not leave me alone. Just a few nights later, I had another dream:

We went into some kind of lockdown. The “we” included a large group of strangers, all White, perhaps because I am in Germany, perhaps not. We were all scattered about the room, some sitting at tables some at the bar. I was at a table with my arms crossed and my head resting on my arms. At the front were two people doing a roll call. In my mind I didn’t care whether I introduced myself or not. I wasn’t nervous and felt ready to respond if the time came for me to speak.

One after one each greeted the room with their name. As it came closer to being my turn, I felt that flutter of excitement common before speaking in front of groups, only for them to pass over me, ignore me and jump to the next table. I considered making myself known by speaking up, thinking that they may not have seen me with my head on the table. Nevertheless, I decided to say nothing and let them skip me and continue on.

In the dream I could feel myself falling into the comfortable habit of melting into the background for fear that the attention could draw some unsavory experience into my energy field. As a child I experienced many difficult situations in which I was hurt or ridiculed by adults. The shadows of these experiences were lingering and my compassionate inner child calmly called me out on my decision to accept them for fear that eradication meant change and unease.

To be clear I am not a timid person by nature. I am actually quite lively and outspoken. I will stand up for what I believe in no matter the hierarchical position of the person standing across from me. My sweet subconscious was drawing attention to the timidity that surfaces when it comes to telling MY story and speaking up for myself. It is often easier to stand up and speak up when we see injustice being done to another, but when we are called to speak for ourselves and ourselves alone, there is a doubt that sometimes creeps in and pushes us to “just deal with it” as opposed to addressing it as we have done many, many times for others. When I am in need or when the child within begs for creative space, timidity ensues as if to say that the needs of others deserve more attention and voice than mine. My dreams were amazing in that they not only highlighted the issue but also the various nuances attached to my timid behavior: superfluous modesty, fear of disruption only for my sake, the easiness of invisibility and the thirst for harmony.

Many may ask at this point: Can we really take our dreams this seriously? The truth is I can’t afford not to. The things I am afraid to face in the light of day, present themselves to me gently at night, allowing for openness and understanding. Dream psychologists as well as spiritual teachers counsel us to pay attention to our dreams when they come knocking. I like to think that I have developed a radar that lets me know when a dream is simply an adventure and when it offers a genuine opportunity for learning. I immediately recognized both of the dreams above as teaching dreams, though I have had others that failed to make such a lasting impression on me.

We each have the capacity to be our own teachers and to filter information, according to what feels good and right for our unique journeys. Though the messages of my dreams did not feel good to me per se, I recognized the hand being offered to me and I have taken it. I have allowed it to pull me out of the anonymity and fear my timid behavior manifested in my life.

The first step to affecting this change was awareness. My dreams drew attention to my tendency to allow others to pass over me, tripping over my carefully concealed frame along the way. They were calling me out on my desire to put the needs and sensitivities of others before my own truths.

After trying to identify similar situations in my waking life, I came to the conclusion that over time, in my effort to fit in to a new culture, I slowly began to make myself small, only speaking up when I could identify true injustice. In my desire to be welcome, I allowed myself to be tossed about between different affinities and subjective tastes. With each alteration I began to lose a piece of myself that I am only now, thanks to the frankness of my dreams, beginning to reclaim.

In a 5^th grade school play I once played Sleeping Beauty, and I was sung back into waking life by the boy I had the biggest crush on. During the rehearsal my teacher encouraged me to slowly awaken while the song was being sung. While wakening I should smile while stretching and yawning, and truly feel the joy of being awakened by the person I love most. I can feel now genuinely what I was trying to mimic all of those years ago.

Living boldly requires unshakeable self-trust. It is connected to knowing that no matter what storm comes your way, no matter what surprises the future holds, you are willing and ready to meet each challenge with patience and self-compassion, knowing that you can always rely on yourself.