Sometimes you kick.
Sometimes you get kicked.
I look around unsatisfied At what they’re giving me Then I think to myself Is there someone else Who feels the same as me Do you feel the same baby
I’m not 100% positive as to what Michael Hutchence was writing about in this song. You know the one – or wait, is that just me who knows every word to every song on the Inxs Kick album (or in my case, tape) released in 1987 that was never owned by me personally until 2016 when Jon bought it at a garage sale for me but I still knew every word because my BFF and I would steal it out of her brother’s bedroom and listen to it on her pink Sharp “boom box” and we would obsess over the lyrics on the inside of the tape jacket (is that what it’s called?) and we underlined the swear words because they were sooooo cool? Yeah, maybe just me.
My current “sled” is a 2002 Volvo Cross Country. I love him. His name is Vince. He had quirks – like when I turn, he laughs because I’m tickling him. Or that you can’t see what radio station you’re listening to because the lights for the radio are totally fried. Or that when you want to turn up the volume, it usually stays the same but when you’re trying to turn the volume down, you all of a sudden are cruising the strip in Grand Haven about to get a sound violation.
Well, he has a tape deck. And I love him for it.
Vince plays Inxs Kick on repeat. (I know he loves it too – his sighs mean – remember when the music was really GOOD?)
And today, Kick came on just as my awareness / presentness came into focus. You know those moments where you’re like, wait, what have I been doing / thinking about for the last five minutes? because I was clearly NOT present before this moment.
Sometimes you kick. Sometimes you get kicked.
Isn’t that the f*cking truth? Somedays you’re all BadASS and grab the world by the ballz and tell it what’s what. And then there are days you accidentally fall asleep while meditating and you didn’t pick your clothes up off the floor.
But now I want to focus on those lines where Michael (may he rest in peace that man who oozed sexiness and was the third Michael in my life after Jackson and George – I know those aren’t all first / last names!) writes ‘Is there someone else who feels the same as me?’
Dude, the answer is YES.
Several examples come to mind… A shift in thinking explained first…
I had a very wise teacher / mentor explain to me how to welcome in my rage / sadness / grief – and this was before all the shit really went down. She told me to breathe in my feeling. And exhale. Then to breathe in the feeling for all those who have also had this feeling. And exhale – letting it go. And then to breathe in for anyone anywhere who will feel this feeling.
It might seem like weird or something. But there was a huge shift in that. Wait, other people were in my same boat? Other people, around this huge world, shared this experience? These thoughts? These feelings? I’m NOT alone in all this?
So there’s the “I’m not really all that special” part of it. You could go there. Or you could CHOOSE the embrace that you are not alone. You are not the first one to suffer this way – you will not be the last to suffer this way.
Now when I make a stupid mistake or start to freak out about something, I go back to – wait, I’m not the only one who ever did ____. There’s comfort in that, right? It’s all part of the human experience.
Now let’s get present. Tonight. I hosted Women, Wine, & Wellness of Littleton tonight. Two people showed up. Yup. 2.
But you know what? This beautiful woman from Brazil felt safe enough, felt loved enough, felt welcomed enough to share with this group of strangers – that this was the best “meetup” group she’s ever been to, that what we talked about was real and true for her and all of us, and that it meant so much to her to find a group of like-minded women.
Because we were talking about mastering our inner critic. That voice that lives in all of our heads – telling us we’re not good enough, or to take more on because we should be PERFECT, or that we can’t or … or… or…
So, is there someone else who feels the same as me? You bet your ass there is. You might not have found them yet. You might never find them. But isn’t there some comfort that it’s not just you? This is what it’s like to be human.
What happens when we open up and share more? What happens when we show up as our vulnerable selves?