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Over thirty plus summers ago my folks took my sister and I to the Safari Park for the day.

Like most of these places you drive around the park and then you eventually get out the car to get up close and personal with other animals, the ones that don’t have a natural instinct to eat you.

Lions, tigers and bears…oh my. 

It was a scary and scarring day.

The park was school holiday busy and I remember my sister had just stopped crying due to a giraffes attempt to eat her plastic strawberry hair bobbles popping out from her under her neat ribbons, which I had found very funny and couldn’t stop laughing about.

Then.

Smile wiped.

I remember a massive commotion. I remember staff rushing about. Lions had escaped and were coming our way. I remember being put in a small cage as everything was brought under control. I remember being with boy about my age and my folks saying, ‘stay there, it’s just for a little while’.

I remember them leaving me, the boy screaming and then the lions. I remember being terrified and the people that cared for me had gone, taking their first born with ribbons in her hair with them.

Me? Caged for four hours.

Here’s the thing…

That memory?

All. A. Pack. Of. Lies.

Well, more a little mix up between reality and imagination. How it got in there I have no idea, it was real for me for nearly thirty-five years until one day I went to visit my folks.

I had been running a group that day and I told them, ”That horrible trip to the Safari Park came up today…’ and on I went reminding them about the scary experience I thought we had all shared as a family.

The room hushed, I looked up from dinner and I caught my Mum and Dad doing that parental eye thing they do with one another, which basically means, ‘What the hell is she talking about now?’

Eventually my Dad caught up.

Thank you Dad.

But he remembers it a tad differently.

Apparently…

A wolf was being moved to a different part of the park. Apparently the staff asked if we would stand behind metal barriers. Apparently I was lifted up and placed behind the barriers for safety because I was little. Apparently my folks were behind me, holding me back from going to pet the wolf because I was so excited. Apparently the boy beside me was crying, but not (according to the Memory of Dad Archie) at the wolf. He’d dropped an ice cream and he ‘wasn’t getting another one’ which caused a right old scene. The wolf was tame, and some of the older children were allowed to say nip up and say hello. It was over in five minutes.

My Dad then said, ‘we should’ve kept quiet and we would have heard how you saved the boy and wrestled the crocodiles in a few years time’.

I have ceased with the story. Well, it’s become this one instead.

Oh, how we chortled.

Then my dad said, ‘What else have we done to screw your life up, any other memories in there that need reviewed?’

Um.

Well.

What about the day I fell into the canal and nearly drowned?

Dad: It was a puddle beside the canal, and the dog pushed you over, you fell in the puddle nose first.

Feck.

Up all these stories came. And the explanation of what really happened (unless they are lying to me now, no surely not). Parents? I know you stalk this website.

We both know that memories can become distorted and mixed up.

We both know that we can create different memories to what actually happened.

We both know that memories are changed every time we think about them.

Ever been dumped or ended a not so hot relationship, at the time of the experience both of you shared 50/50 in all that went on and when it finished you re-wrote the memories? Well, that didn’t go according to my rules, maps, script and view of the world, therefore I will use my incredibly powerful imagination to do a little bit of a re-write so I can put 100% of the blame on them. There we go. That’s better. Now, who can I tell the new story to?  

Our imagination is a wonderful place to play in.

It can also be a place where we create legends, myths and hearsay.

Just because we are remembering, doesn’t mean to say it’s true.

Here’s an idea, maybe when you’re playing over a memory, it might be worth you raising your own eyebrow and asking yourself, ‘does this need reviewed now?’ Question it with ‘is this the truth, or is this the truth as I perceive it to be’? 

What freedom.

“Just because  I remember it, is it true?” 

There is so much in my past that perhaps I should have done.

I don’t think I’m alone here, that others (maybe even you) have trundled the ‘should’ve, could’ve, didn’t, whoops’ path. Am I? AM I?

Let’s see…

Perhaps I should have stayed on the train and went to the college that I really wanted to go to but I didn’t. I got off and came back because I met the ‘love of my life’ a week before. Yeah, that worked out, well it did work out, I suppose that is true. 

I maybe should have said ‘thanks for the meal but I don’t think we are right for each other’ but I didn’t, I ended up inviting them to live with me. What was I thinking? Was I even there at the point that decision? Whoops! 

I maybe should have researched the ‘needs renovated’ paragraph from the Estate Agents particulars on the house I bought but I didn’t. Still renovating. Eight years later. But the garden is nice. I bought a garden. 

I perhaps should have walked away from a few projects sooner because my heart wasn’t in them and I was only getting involved to please others but I didn’t.

Yeah. Well. Done now. Gone.

Should Have. Could Have. Didn’t.

What a laugh, we know we can’t go back and choose differently and yet we may insist on replaying the entire experiences over and over as if it’s going to change the outcomes?

It was so bad, I know, for fun I will keep reliving and retelling it, that’ll make so much better. That’s such a good idea!

If you’re looking backwards at some of your finer moments of whoopsies, mistakes, errors, guilts, regrets, what-if’s, should have, could have, missed opportunities and pain. Fear is doing double cartwheels. Celebrating. It loves it.

Why? Because it knows you are in the now, ordering from the past, projecting into the future. That’s hysterical!

And the biggie in all this is: if fear is dining at your table, feasting on your guilt, you sure as hell ‘ain’t partying and getting on down with love. It’s not even invited.

Have you ever been in a heated conversation with someone and they have pointed the finger at you? How did it feel? I can picture an old boss. They feared people with their finger pointing. That is my should voice. It’s angry. It’s in my face. No compassion. No forgiveness. All blame.

Soooooooo…

Oh no wait, can I say this… I take 100% full responsibility for all that I should have done but didn’t…em…now. But for a long time that wasn’t the case. I would look under the bed for people to blame.

If you’re kicking yourself and beating yourself up over what you should have done in the past, feeling guilty, tell me, is that self-love or self-loathing?

Heck it doesn’t even need to be a big life event. Last night I sent an update/newsletter with last weeks Subject line, I forgot to change it. I forgot. Forgot. Forgot. What happens? A moment of insanity ‘I should have checked that, folks will think I don’t care’.

That’s insane.

That’s not the truth, the truth is I forgot.

‘Twas promptly fixed with another thought which was ‘Dawn, get a life.’

If you constantly repeat the same I-should-have-done-this-love-me-please-here’s-where-I-went-wrong-story in order to use it to manipulate another into liking or accepting you now, do you love yourself in that moment, or is it fear?

Does it mean we don’t share stories? Heck no. Stories connect us. How do you know if you are telling or still writing? I can only speak for myself and it’s how I feel. The difference? Well, when I own it, it’s love (and I’m laughing), and if I feel fear (maybe coming up as guilt, shame, anger, regret, embarrassment, bitterness), it still owns me.

Ditching your shoulds

Or should that really be ditching the guilt you hold about your past and continue to punish yourself with today?

I think it starts with awareness and willingness.

The awareness being should is a delightful feast for fear.

The willingness is you not wanting to live in fear.

Right, something to try:

Or not. Whatever. I’m in and playing. Practicing. Life long sport. Because should is crafty bugger, and comes up all the time. Last night?

Catch for one week all the shoulds that come out your mouth. And for bonus points: if you are aware of a thought that pops up, catch that also.

When you notice them, the first thing to say or think (this is mine, so feel free to change) ‘that’s completely insane!’

Laugh. (This part takes practice.)

Then ask yourself this question:

Why?

Aside:  a lot of peeps get into a sticky place with this should-ing undoing. They go straight for the ‘well, I should feed the kids’ or ‘I should take the dog to the vet’. In my experience, they are fighting themselves. Go beyond the obvious, and who are you fighting with exactly? If you wanted it then may I suggest you change the word should to want or choose to. It changes everything. 

Next (after asking yourself why) notice if the answer is from fear or love.

Eh?

Quick example…

I should say I’m sorry. Why? Because it’s gone on long enough. It was my error. I caused the pain deliberately as the words came out my mouth. I can correct it. Example of Love. 

I should say I’m sorry. Why? Because they may not like me anymore. I need them as a friend. I can’t imagine my life without them. They are angry at me. Example Of Fear.

Would it be fair to say we pretty much use the fear should-ing more than the love one?

You can if you want call yourself out by going a little deeper with the why, it could look like:

• Why must I be liked and loved? Why do I fear people not liking me?
• Why do I need them as a friend? What is it in them I don’t feel I have myself?
• Why do I think I can’t live without them? Where did I learn that? What has happened on the past where I felt lonely and alone?
• Why do I feel responsible for another persons anger? Why do I find it hard to deal with the strong emotions in others, when I am not responsible for how they feel?

Deep right? This isn’t therapy nor do we have hours together so here’s one thing to try:

You may choose to practice changing the word should to want or choose to. Simple, huh?

I should have explained this better. 

Becomes.

I wanted to explain this better.

“Yes, that is what I wanted to do. This is what I can do right now. I don’t have all the answers. I wanted to share why should-ing is from fear. And we can undo it if we want to. I can come back later and change it”

See the difference?

What about the big life should’ve stuff?

Same idea. But here’s a thought…sometimes we have to start smaller than we think. Sometimes we want to dive in and head for the most painful situation and ‘fix’ that first. Um, I don’t know about you but I learned to swim in the shallow end. Once I could swim there, built up enough confidence, when I was no longer scared of the water and knew that I could be in there with no fear, then I approached the deep end.

Start with the small should-ing is my advice. Then work up to bigger stuff of undoing the guilt from the should’ve, could’ve but didn’t big stuff. It’ll be easier because you will have already been practicing on the smaller.

Your thoughts…

on this quote…

Courage is the power to let go of the familiar. Raymond Lindquist

Do not judge me by my past  I do not live there anymore. 

How long do you spend in a time that has gone? If you aren’t living in the present, where are you living?