Part of feeling out of balance is the fact that so many of us spend time performing for others. We often feel that this will get us the better job, more friends, success, approval, etc. In doing so, we often lose who we are and at some point we may not even recognize the incredible person that's screaming to come out.
I remember when I was in the orphanage in Germany where performance was essential. I needed to perform in order to get out of that orphanage. It took four years, but I finally landed a ticket out of there.
When I was at long last adopted into the American family, I learned a new form of performing. I learned to be "cute, adorable" in order to be accepted and loved. I remember whenever my new parents had large parties they would ask me to come down stairs and "perform." I was to say something cute (had a mixed dialect by then, which sounded cute), maybe sing a little, and of course, curtsey before going to bed. Everyone thought I was adorable and I received "rave reviews." So what became an imprint was "performing was a good thing - I won't have to go back to something bad."
As I look back on my life, I do believe that I have done my fair share of performing. Of course, there are times when performing is appropriate. For example, the stage, at work when you don't want everyone to know what's really going on in your life, etc.
But in the performing, often we lose sight of who we really are. This can cause a terrible imbalance in our lives in the form of depression, anxiety, frustration, just to name a few negative symptoms.
Now, I am actively allowing the true person in me to come out.
I don't need to perform, I do need to be authentic.
Are you ready to stop performing and start being REAL with yourself and others? |
Intention
Exercise: Extreme Performer
Please have a pad and pen close by so you
can record your thoughts or answers.
It
is time to set the stage by putting on some soft music.
Take the phone off the hook, turn off your cell phone and
BE FULLY PRESENT for this exercise.
Have you ever performed when you didn't feel comfortable? (i.e., a family event, at the workplace, on a date)
How did it feel? Did you get what you wanted? What were the consequences?
If you could do that differently, what would you have done?
In your mind's eye, imagine that you are seeing a movie. And the great performer in this movie IS you. What are you performing for? Is it a new date? A chance to impress the boss? A job you can't stand but have to pay the bills?
Did you feel that you HAD to perform?
Can you stand alone and say to yourself "I can be authentic and not perform for others."
Play a game called "What if....."
What if... I didn't have to perform and I could get the same results?
What if... I wasn't afraid to be who I am?
How
would that feel?
Does it feel good to experience the REAL YOU ...when you don't have to perform?
Are you ready to start being authentic and stop the PERFORMING for others?
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Share
your story....
eMail
the stories. In the subject line be sure and add the words: PERFORMER or you may send them to: Karin Janin • P.O. Box 607
• Highland, NY 12528
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The
Orphan Connection is
a foundation that is dedicated to honoring orphans who are making
a difference thus creating Mentor Orphans. We are always looking
for stories of orphans who have made a difference in YOUR life
- so please share them with us. These Mentor orphans give
hope and a sense that "I am not alone."
Take
a few minutes to and visit the Orphan
Connection.
________________________________
The most honest man I ever knew
Written by Mentor Orphan Roger Dean Kiser
Thinking back upon my younger days as a child in the orphanage, then later on to my teenage reform school days, a few jail days, and finally my adult days in prison; I have met many men, both good and bad. But of all those men, there is only one who really impressed me.
I met him one Wednesday afternoon when a strange woman came to the Duval County Juvenile Shelter and took me, a runaway boy from the Children's Home Society Orphanage, to their house for Thanksgiving Dinner. I didn't really want to go with her, but the Judge with the big head made me go anyway.
People who lived in regular houses were rather strange acting, and they were just too clean looking for me. I remember walking into that house and seeing an older, grey haired gentleman for the first time. He didn't say a word. He just looked at me and then walked into the dining room. Though we rarely spoke to one another, over the years I managed to get him to speak once in a while. I guess he was just a quiet type of fellow.
One time while out running the streets, I had no money, no food, and no job so I telephoned him. He immediately drove over and picked me up from a very bad part of town.
He began paying me to pick up scrap 2X4 pieces at a construction site, and I learned much more about him from the men who worked with him. At lunch we would sit on a concrete block, or a dirt pile and they would talk amongst themselves, often about him. They all thought he was the most wonderful, kind man they had ever known.
Though I continued to run the streets of Jacksonville, Florida for many years, he somehow would locate me to see if I needed anything. By the time I was sixteen, I began dropping by to visit with him. There were times I stayed with him for a few weeks, and maybe even a month from time to time.
When he was not home I answered the telephone and took messages for him. I was amazed at the amount of calls he received from people wanting him to build a Burger King, Huddle House Restaurant, Pizza Hut, or a McDonalds.
"Who really cares who builds anything?" I thought to myself as I wrote down his messages.
One day he asked me if I wanted to travel to Georgia for a few weeks, to help build a new Burger King Restaurant. Having nothing else to do except run the back streets, I agreed.
As I worked I watched him very closely. He never seemed to get upset, even when something major went wrong. He managed every aspect of the building construction, as well as the payroll. Every board, every screw, every nail, and every shingle was accounted for. Nothing was scrapped or thrown away that could be useful. I asked him one afternoon why everything was so important to him. He said that wasting materials on someone else’s dollar was the same as stealing from them.
On a Friday night we were heading back to Jacksonville for a weekend of rest. When we stopped for gas, he realized he had taken a box of nails and a hammer from the work site. We gassed up and then we got into his old truck and drove all the way back to Georgia, just to return the hammer and nails. On the way back to Jacksonville I asked him why he didn’t wait to return the hammer and nails on Monday when we returned to the job site.
He looked at me and said “If you want to be an honest person you have to work at it. Being bad is easy, but being honest is hard, and sometimes very difficult. I suppose I could have waited until Monday to return the property. However, I had to make a choice. I could be a thief for only thirty minutes or I could be a thief for the entire weekend. I chose the shortest amount of time. You have to remember Roger; it is not ‘who’ we are in this world but ‘what’ we are in this world that is important.”
It took me years to realize what he was really talking about. It wasn't about the hammer and the nails at all. It was all about ‘honesty.’ It was about being fair to others, and about what other people think of you as an individual. That each person could determine what they became based on the decisions that we ourselves made on a daily basis. I guess honesty was more important to him than taking a hammer, a nail, or an office stamp, even by accident.
I learned from him that being honest is something that requires very hard work. Honesty earns you respect. To him honesty and respect were more important than anything else.
I had always thought there were different degrees of honesty, and a person could only be as honest as the environment around them. I was an honest boy, or so I thought. I was good and I was honest, at least until I became hungry and had no money for food.
He was a man who was always neat and clean in appearance. He was always groomed to the tee, whether going to church or to work. He was not a man who was vain. He always took the time to groom himself because of his respect for others. “If others honor me by accepting me in their presence; I must always show my respect for them by being neat and clean,” he told me.
Near the end of his life I visited him at the hospital. As he lay in the hospital bed in a coma, he looked terrible. Out of respect for him, I closed my eyes as I spoke to him. I do not know if he could hear me or not. Almost in tears, I told him "he was the only man on this earth that I had allowed to have my honor. That I would give him my heart but the juvenile judge told me that I didn't have one."
When he died, I cried. It was one of the few times in my life that I have ever cried a tear for anyone.
Yes, I will forever remember the man I was honored to call my foster father. His name was George Victor Usher. He was truly the most honest man I ever met.
Do
you have a story of a special orphan? Please send your stories
to orphanconnect@yahoo.com
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Due to technical problems last month, we were not able to share the May Mid-Month Intention.
You can find this at http://www.karinjanin.com/midmonth/midJune06_2.php
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Have
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Don't
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EXTREME PERFORMING
Write
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