Autopilot or Choice?

Answering the not-so-simple question: what do you love?

I've realized this year how many of my choices were based on shoulds, woulds and coulds rather than what I actually like, want and care about. I started wondering, am I choosing in my life or did I choose a few things years ago that have made all subsequent choices irelevant? Autopilot felt like it was running my life.

So without overthinking and without considering how it would be received, I asked myself the not-so-simple question, what do I love?

I love learning about myself.

The old me would have a whole lot to say about that statement - "how selfish," I would say, "don't just think about yourself, think about others!" And if I'm honest, I still have that little voice begging me to explain to you all the ways I am a nice, kind person that puts others in front of myself.

But here's what I know about the nice, kind Tamara: it wasn't what it seemed. Yes, I've always tried to be nice and kind, but the nice and kind was a sort of default setting. Nice and kind was my way of moving through life without encountering stress and things that made me uncomfortable. Nice and kind gave me the ability to stay out of people's bad books. Nice and kind let me avoid looking at anything that hurt too much.

In the Enneagram, each number has something that controls and dominates their decision making. Mine is sloth (enneagram nine). Sloth isn't moving slowly the way we've seen in the animal with its name. Sloth isn't even laziness. Sloth is an avoidance of self, it's an unconscious choosing of all things except self. Sloth is the embodiment of "I'm fine."

Once I started seeing my default setting, the way I asked about others to avoid answering about myself, nice and kind wasn't looking so nice and kind.

A therapist once told me, "if you don't share all of yourself with others, part of the puzzle will always be missing." I had become a walking oxymoron - the more I kept myself safe by undersharing, the more I lost myself and any thread of who I was as an individual.

I am now working on being nice and kind to myself as I uncover the me that has been in there all along. And as I've already discovered, when I can be nice and kind to myself, it naturally expands out from me to others, but it can never be as true or genuine the other way around.

I love learning about others.

I have always loved getting to know people - figuring out how they tick. People will always be the best and most frustrating parts of anybody's life. I think we can all agree that often it feels like you can't live with them and you can't live without them.

My desire to know others started the same way as my "nice and kind" personality. I needed to know people so I could figure out how to keep them happy. I think in some ways, I was so set on making sure I appeared "nice and kind" that I was barely taking in the person in front of me, expect the facts and information that I could relay to reinforce my created persona.

It has only been learning about myself, and lowering the stress and uncertainty I felt around my own personhood, that I've been able to take in the beautiful interactions of people around me. No more practiced scripts or chit-chat to-do lists, no more anticipating outcomes or constantly readjusting expectations, just me, listening, sharing and enjoying connection as it comes across my path.

I love Lennie.

I know it's been said but it needs to be said until everyone feels it deep in their soul - a dog will change your life.

There is something about the little soul that gazes up at you with soft eyes and demands our love and attention. It's impossible to talk about them without falling into cliches.

Lennie is a piece of me. She is more than a dog. Her heart and mine have connected in a way I can't explain. I know no one will ever know me like Lennie knows me.

So ... what do you love?

For some reason, the pressure of adulting steals our beautiful first reaction to the question "what do you love?" We create practiced or expected responses to a question that, instead of creating joy, fills us with stress to answer the way we know we should. If no one was listening, no one was judging (including you) and you truly answered this question, what do YOU, no one else, really love?