Incorporating negative thought patterns into the ritual
Rather than trying to stop the ruminations my brain is hard wired to think, I'm learning to let them go with the flow
I had a conversation with a friend this week about the tendencies we have to question our self worth. For this friend, it’s a lot of negative self-talk. For me, it’s rejection sensitivity. I’m a textbook example of the person who thinks my boss asking for a meeting is inevitably going to result in her telling me I’m terrible. Why are our brains so brutal?
It’s helped in recent months to get an ADHD diagnosis and realize these thoughts are not a character flaw. Unfortunately these thought patterns are an unavoidable fact of life for those of us who are neurodivergent. Realizing their unavoidability is helping me embrace them and consider practices to mitigate their effects.
A few months ago I wrote about an amorphism by Franz Kafka that’s helped me think about how to incorporate challenges into my life rather than expend a lot of energy to avoid them.
“Leopards break into the temple and drink all the sacrificial vessels dry; it keeps happening; in the end, it can be calculated in advance and is incorporated into the ritual.”
Incorporate it into the ritual
Years ago when I was only just beginning the work of standing my sacred ground, my supervisor at the time shared with me a parable of sorts by Franz Kafka.
Another example of this is logic comes from actor Michael Caine. In a 2002 interview, he shared some advice he received early in his career:
“Use the difficulty. Well, I got it from… I was rehearsing a play when I was a very young actor, and I had to come in this scene. It was a stage play. I’m behind the flats waiting to open the door. There was an improvised scene between a husband and wife going on inside, and then they got carried away, and they started throwing things, and he threw a chair, and it lodged in the doorway.
And I went to open the door and I just got my head round and I said, “I’m sorry Sir, I can’t get in,” and he said, “What do you mean?” “There’s a chair there.” He said to me, “Use the difficulty.” I said, “What do you mean?” He said, “Well, if it’s a comedy fall over it, if it’s a drama pick it up and smash it!” He said, “Use the difficulty.”
Rather than try to train myself to do what feels impossible — rid myself of rejection sensitivity — I’m incorporating it into the ritual. As I sense it coming, or if I’m ruminating on a singular moment after the fact, I know these practices will help me move through the difficulty a little faster, a smidge easier.
My first step is logic. Recently I started conversations with our diocesan transitions missioner about what kinds of calls I might be interested in once I’m ordained. I’m not in a hurry to leave my current job, and yet the truth is I am deeply curious about parish ministry. After we met, I was feeling vulnerable and ruminating on single phrases I said, wondering what kind of impression I left and if he thought I was brazen for wondering if I could one day be a rector. I had to meet myself with logic. “What is more reasonable, Janette"? That they thought your confidence in your call was ill-founded and you’re a fraud for thinking you could be a rector one day? Or is it more likely they are sincerely curious and interested in helping? Is it most likely your Bishop — someone you deeply trust — hired someone who doesn’t care, or is it more likely that they, like her, are trustworthy and good?” Some version of that self-conversation nudges me toward more reasonable thinking and reduces my angst by half almost instantly.
I’ve also come to accept that I will often need external validation. This is a bit of cat and mouse though because I worry that the person I go to for reassurance will reject me or be annoyed with me for admitting I’m struggling with rejection. (oy vey.) My list of friends I turn to in these moments is very small, made up of people who have proven their love and joy for me in every way I’ve shown up over the course of our friendship. I talk it out, and the verbal processing itself helps me get the fears out of my body, dissipating in the air in real time.
I save emails and texts of encouragement and will revisit those if I’m feeling particularly low. Those blend the first two practices… logic and affirmation make my fear of rejection seem silly.
Then I try to bring joy into the mix, usually in the form of music or a snack. Or let’s be honest. Both.
This whole process only takes a few minutes usually. Instead of my whole day being disrupted by ruminating anxiety, I’ve stopped it before it has time to take root. I’ve not tried to talk myself out of feeling anxious or forced myself to not think those thoughts (which would breed anxiety of a different kind when I fail). I incorporate it into the ritual and do things I enjoy anyway: talking to friends, listening to music, eating a peanut butter cup.
Something I’d like to add with more consistency is a spiritual practice. I often say a prayer inspired by Macrina Wiederkehr:
“Oh God, help me to believe the truth about myself no matter how beautiful it is.”
Do you have any spiritual practices to combat negative self talk? I’d love to hear what you’re trying and maybe add it to my own ritual! Getting out to enjoy nature helps a lot but requires more time, so it’s more like an anchor point when I have some time to myself rather than something I rely on in the moment.
I leave you with the full poem by Macrina Wiederkehr. May we all feel confident in our own belovedness.
I will believe the truth about myself no matter how beautiful it is: I believe in my power to transform indifference into love. I believe I have an amazing gift to keep hope alive in the face of despair. I believe I have the remarkable skill of deleting bitterness from my life. I believe in my budding potential to live with a nonviolent heart. I believe in my passion to speak the truth even when it isn’t popular. I believe I have the strength of will to be peace in a world of violence. I believe in my miraculous capacity for unconditional love. I will believe the truth about myself no matter how beautiful it is.
ICYMI: I’m hosting a summer book club in the Viriditas chat here on Substack. Starting next Friday, we’ll discuss Love Like a Mother by Elizabeth Berget. Would love for any and all to join! All you need to do is join the chat:
Love that. One mantra I have to combat negative self talk is “I’m going to continue to be who I am.” I don’t need to shape shift to please others or to be better. I can show up authenticity and be who I am and that’s enough.
Thank you for sharing!!!
I can relate to so much of what you’ve shared. I love the idea or rereading old texts and emails too. I have a file called “Praise” where those sorts of things live. I will say that for me, hitting middle 40s seemed to shift my confidence. I remember this young practitioner who I saw saying to me when I expressed self-doubt, Mary, you are a forty-something year old woman, you can do whatever you want. And I would say that now, for the most part, I do. Most people aren’t even paying attention to us. When I’m doing anything now it’s very much for myself and it takes a lot of the insecurity away.