On Dreamshaping: Fear Itself
Mark McNease
The realization that many of the decisions we make throughout our lives are made from fear can be startling. Fear often determines the choices that shape our dreams and create our personal environments. When we’re children, we fear displeasing the adults in our lives, especially our parents. We watch them for signs of disapproval, and we become conditioned to pleasing them. Many times we succeed, and sometimes we fail. And it is the fear of failure, of not getting their approval or, worse, incurring their judgement, that sets a tone for our reactions to others, sometimes for the rest of our lives. I still recognize this impulse in myself in relationships, from the most intimate to the most casual. I tell a joke and watch to see if the person I’d told it to thought it was funny. Or I disparage someone who’d annoyed me, and I wait to see if my criticism is shared or if I should soften it with some kind of praise. Watching for the reactions of others is a lifelong human trait, and one of the things we watch for most is any reason to fear. Do they like me? Did they enjoy my book? Do they think I’m good at what I do? Or—and here comes the fear—do they think I’m a fakir, do they mock me when I’ve left the room, can they see the real me, for surely they won’t like it.
Fear wears many masks and offers many faces: the face of anger, insisting we have been wronged somehow or that we’ve lost the upper hand; the face of sorrow, immersed in the fear that we will never feel pleasure again; the face of gloom, our expressions set by the conclusion that the world we believed we lived in—our personal world, the world of our community and nation, even the planet—is changing for the worse. Fear undergirds it all. Fear is there beneath the surface, and if we’re willing to patiently scrape away those layers of anger, resentment, jealousy, insecurity, judgement, indignation, warpaint, we will find fear, the flame that provides the heat for it all.
On Dreamshaping: Enough Is Enough
Mark McNease
It’s not hard to observe the world around us and see how easy it is to live in a state of lack and fear: lack because we think that what we have is not enough, and fear of losing what we already possess! I’ve done it myself for an entire lifetime, starting as a child who needed validation and wanted more of whatever it was I had, on into adulthood where satisfaction and contentment have been fleeting and conditioned on believing, just for a few moments, that I was fulfilled. It’s the kind of completion I’ve felt after writing the last few lines of a novel, or winning some accolade that proved to me I was accepted. Those feelings of wholeness never last long, because they are not about who I truly am and want to be, but about markers of success, reassurances that I am not the failure I suspected I was.
On Dreamshaping: When Staying the Course Means Hitting the Iceberg
Mark McNease
How many times have we kept doing something because we were convinced it would have the result we wanted if we just kept doing it? We stayed the course despite possible detours or course corrections because it felt safer and more familiar to trudge ahead, even though the ground we walked on got softer and muddier and harder to free ourselves from.
Jobs are a good example of this. Relationships, too. We plow ahead, ignoring warnings and our own deep understanding that this work or this person is not helping us live the life we want. It doesn’t have to be a partner, either. It can be a friend or family member whose world view is so at odds with ours that we’re better off wishing them well in our hearts and putting them out of our lives.
One Thing or Another: Brave New Retirement
By Mark McNease
It’s always One Thing or Another… a lighthearted look at aging, life, and the absurdities of it all.
“What day is it?”
It took me very little time after retiring from full-time work to ask this question, common among the post-job legions. After spending years with a life organized around a work schedule, one of the first things you may notice when the schedule is gone is that you’re uncertain if it’s Monday, Sunday, or some other day of the week you used to spend punching a time clock of one kind or another. For myself, I’d invested the previous five years staffing a deli counter at a grocery story, Thursday through Sunday. I’d called it my semi-retirement job, since I only had to put in thirty-two hours a week in exchange for benefits. The main reason was to provide health insurance for myself and my husband, and I’d promised myself that as soon as he was on Medicare, I was out of there. And I was!
It’s early days for me in this less restricted life. I can go to weekend festivals again. When we take our two-night getaways, they don’t have to be early in the week, when the hotel rates are cheaper but most of the restaurants are closed. I’d enjoyed that for a long time, but now we can book a room somewhere for whatever nights we want to be there, and it’s almost an overdose of freedom.
One Thing or Another: Reunited And It Feels So Old
By Mark McNease
It’s always One Thing or Another… a lighthearted look at aging, life, and the absurdities of it all.
If you’re reading this you’re probably old enough to remember the 1978 hit, Reunited, by Peaches and Herb. That song came out a year after my high school graduation, and it seems an appropriate choice now that I’ve been invited to our 45th reunion. I can’t make it this year because we’re going on our annual vacation to Provincetown. Had I been able to attend, it would have been a first: I have not gone to any reunion since leaving Indiana three days after snatching my diploma and packing up my orange Gremlin to head to California. It was a stick shift with no spare tire, but I made it across the continent, and only went back every year to see my parents until they passed away. After that, Indiana became a place to store memories, some of them great, many of them deservedly faded.
I’m not someone who insists that age is a number—tell that to my bones. Age is real. Days pass, weeks pass, years pass, and every living thing ages in the march of time. I’ve also given instructions to euthanize me on the spot if I ever say that anyone is so-many-years young. I would be mortified as well as humiliated if, should I live that long, anyone calls me ninety years young. It’s patronizing and patently false.
On Dreamshaping: The Project Worksheet
Mark McNease
Whether you call it a Dreamshaping Worksheet or a Project Worksheet, it’s one of the most valuable items in the Dreamshaper’s toolbox. I started keeping mine a year ago in the form of an Excel spreadsheet. It’s remarkably simple, and deceptively powerful. Why? Because it helps me see, right there in front of me, what I’ve accomplished in the previous weeks and months.
It’s so easy to become discouraged and think we’re not getting anywhere, or that we’re somehow stuck in the same small box we felt confined in yesterday and the day before. But by keeping an easy list or spreadsheet that we can add to every week, what we actually get done becomes clear – excitingly, irrefutably, invigoratingly clear! Each week, month by month, I record what I completed or started. ‘Sent out email to subscribers,’ or, ‘recorded interview with guest artist,’ or, ‘designed cover for new eBook.’ I may think I didn’t get anything done last week, but if I just take a look at the steps I took, the chapters I wrote, the podcasts I recorded and published – suddenly I know I’ve accomplished a lot. When we do this for an extended period of time, we may be the ones asking ourselves, ‘How do you manage to get so much done!’
On Dreamshaping: An Inside Job
Mark McNease
It’s not the thing the emotion attaches to, it’s the emotion.
It’s not the person or event the anger attaches to, it’s the anger.
It’s not the thoughts around which the confusion swirls, it’s the confusion itself.When I’m consumed by an emotion, even something as simple as anger aimed at another driver on the road, it’s the emotion that generates my state of mind, not the other driver. So many people have a need be angry, or even enraged, without ever comprehending that the object of their rage is not the issue: it is the rage, and the need for it, that lies at the heart of the experience.
One Thing or Another: Out With the New
By Mark McNease
It’s always One Thing or Another… a lighthearted look at aging, life, and the absurdities of it all.
As another year begins and we make promises to ourselves, if not outright resolutions, why not stop and consider the changes we don’t want to make? The things about our lives that we’re pleased to have in them: events, people, situations, even qualities about ourselves we would not change. I quite like most of my life, and while I want to lose some serious poundage for health and vanity, I can’t say there are many other things I would change about it.