At one time in my life, I embraced opportunities of all kinds as they came. I said "Yes" to all manner of offers to serve, socialize, or simply listen. Then came the pain. I found that being a Yes-man was self-destructive. I lacked boundaries, and began to suffer as a result. After recovering from a resulting physical sickness, I compensated for my mistakes by being firm and straightforward with others about whether or not I would be apart of something. Aside perhaps from family events, this meant that I chose to say "no" as often as I once said "yes."
I was proud of myself for it, for a time. Then, I began to realize that saying no too often could be just as harmful as saying yes too often. While saying yes too often meant being present to the point of exhaustion, saying no too often involved isolating oneself to the point of loneliness. Neither was healthy.
Both were examples of a fear I held. In both cases, I feared asserting my preferences with others. When I said yes, I chose to please others by agreeing to their needs or wants. When I said no, I chose to bypass altogether the conflict of having to choose between my own preferences and the preferences of others. By making "no" an automatic response, regardless of my actual desires, I had no need to recognize what I actually wanted because I had closed myself off to the opportunity. At least when I said yes automatically, I opened myself to opportunities in social or service gatherings to practice asserting myself, or to recognize my preferences in relation to others. When I said no, however, I denied myself the chance to experience anything.
I believe that a lack of balance is a sign that something else is wrong, something not easily recognizable, even to the person out of balance. I can testify that this was and is true for me. Just as certainly, though, a restoration of balance--in the form of recognizing and responding to one's needs and wants--is a sign of improved health. One's outward life is a reflection of what is happening within. It is one gauge for how well you are.
I was proud of myself for it, for a time. Then, I began to realize that saying no too often could be just as harmful as saying yes too often. While saying yes too often meant being present to the point of exhaustion, saying no too often involved isolating oneself to the point of loneliness. Neither was healthy.
Both were examples of a fear I held. In both cases, I feared asserting my preferences with others. When I said yes, I chose to please others by agreeing to their needs or wants. When I said no, I chose to bypass altogether the conflict of having to choose between my own preferences and the preferences of others. By making "no" an automatic response, regardless of my actual desires, I had no need to recognize what I actually wanted because I had closed myself off to the opportunity. At least when I said yes automatically, I opened myself to opportunities in social or service gatherings to practice asserting myself, or to recognize my preferences in relation to others. When I said no, however, I denied myself the chance to experience anything.
I believe that a lack of balance is a sign that something else is wrong, something not easily recognizable, even to the person out of balance. I can testify that this was and is true for me. Just as certainly, though, a restoration of balance--in the form of recognizing and responding to one's needs and wants--is a sign of improved health. One's outward life is a reflection of what is happening within. It is one gauge for how well you are.
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