Breaking Dishes: The Practice!

Letting go of old identities isn't easy...

Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash

Click below for the audio file…

Guess what I once did? I threw a cup of cold water on my husband while he was in the shower! How fun is that?! 

Well for me it was! See, my husband loves his long, warm showers. And calls it his “shower land”. The land of warm showers! I’ll ask him, “how’s shower land, honey?” And he’ll say—"oh it’s SO WARM…”

But there I was having the idea to disrupt his “shower land”! As soon as I had the idea I quietly raced into the kitchen- found a large mason jar. Then filled it with water, crept back into the bathroom, as if he could actually hear me through the rushing shower water, and dumped the cold water on him! He just shrieked back in bewilderment recognizing I thought it was funny.

I was really just straight up feeling giddy about it! And thank goodness, he had a sense of humor about it, because if he had done that to me- man I would have been so pissed! Of the two of us, he’s probably the one that generally takes things lighter than I do. And honestly, really- in my life filled with “responsibilities” I have often struggled with feeling like I don’t have time for fun. And when someone has done something “fun” to me—gosh sometimes I could get so annoyed. Like they’ve wronged me! 

So, it was actually quite cathartic, when I decided to do, for me what seemed like this crazy outlandish thing! It became one of the first ways that I started practicing doing what also felt “irresponsible”! 

See, I had been unknowingly trained at an early age to be the “responsible” one, because, in my 6 year old’s eye, it was easier for everyone else around me. And I always wanted to make things easier for everyone. To me, that’s what kept things feeling safer. And so without me really knowing it, I took on this inner identity of “needing to be responsible.” 

Being the responsible one, also meant for me even as an adult, that I was responsible for everyone’s else needs and wants. Without any real awareness about it, it was like a constant running list in my head about what needed to be done to meet everyone’s needs. And the list would run on and on, like those cartoon images of Santa Claus with that endless list of all children who have been “naughty or nice”. Like a running loop, that didn’t have a stopping point! 

Constant electricity going from my brain and heart to someone else, even if they weren’t physically with me. A literal and metaphorical antennae, except the receiver of my electricity didn’t even know they were exhausting, let a lone extracting from, the power source! He or she or the issue, hadn’t even asked for my involvement, but yet I was signed up anyway, fully suited and ready to go, but without an invitation!   

It’s truly mind boggling for me now, thinking back on all those years, decades of how I lived (and still sometimes struggle with.) It’s like when you look at your financial statement and see ALL those “extra” debits or charges on your account, that were 100% unnecessary! 

But since these “charges” were essentially hidden, for the most part, it just felt easier to keep the peace around me instead of questioning my behavior and thought patterns. 

I mean gosh, it’s just as if I had called the bank and asked for an explanation for the extra debits. Oh the hassle of getting through the automated system and then hoping you get the right person after being on hold for who knows how long! Argh! Same thing with taking the effort to get to the reason why and how my behaviors and thoughts began and continued! Too. Much. Effort! Life is hard enough without literally making it harder by questioning everything!  

Until, guess what? It wasn’t easier to just keep doing as I had been. It wasn’t easier anymore because I was often struggling to feel motivated, and was tired even after doing all the things that usually brings me energy.  I’d have days that I would “take it easy” to physically rest. Or I’d go for a walk or do a work-out thinking that the adrenaline would make me feel better. Or I’d have a nice long conversation with a friend. All of these activities did help initially, but not long after I’d have the “blahs” again. Kinda like crashing after my morning coffee, except it was only 10am. 

Have you ever experienced this—this question of why am I so tired all the time? What’s the matter with me—why am I not feeling happy or inspired? Or why is it I can’t even answer the question: “what do I really want?” Or “what do you do for fun?”

Becoming frustrated with so often feeling frustrated and unmotivated, I decided in a moment of deep resolve that I had to investigate what was going on with me. As I started on this path of investigation, though, I felt this huge innate sense that I was doing something “wrong”—it was really hard to shake actually. 

Every time I focused inward, my brain would respond: “wait, what are you doing? Think about what needs to get done in the house today! What’s for dinner? What was it that hubby asked you do? How much time do I have before I get the kids from school?” Any question to just not focus inward! 

If I had been one of those “clean-the-house-to-procrastinate-types”- the house would have been spotless! (Something, by the way, I truly envy for those folks that clean in avoidance- much to my chagrin and my family's chagrin, I am not one of those types.) 

As part of my avoidance, I realized part of the struggle was that this focus on myself was feeling, guess what? Irresponsible! It truly is so crazy how I was SO well trained at something that I did NOT got to school for, that I did NOT read a book on, that I did NOT listen to a Ted talk on. But man, my brain would make me believe it KNEW something! 

Thank God, at the time of this massive self talking marathon, or maybe it was a ji-jitsu competition between my heart and brain, I had been in a women’s coaching group. And so I had the much needed outside perspective and voice to go up against my brain, my ego’s pull to stay comfortable, insisting that it KNEW what was best. 

Even though these gatherings were over zoom, it’s like I could image these women in my head as I tried to change— very kind, but also quite serious as lab technicians with a clipboard keeping my brain, and true intentions, in check!

And so in a effort to get used to looking inward (really the first step in figuring out what my needs and desires were), which felt irresponsible, my task was to practice “doing things that felt irresponsible.” In this way, it was like I was re-training my thoughts and behaviors to get my brain more comfortable with the changes. 

Along the way, to kind of address the internal tug of war going on, there was one strategy that did really help when my brain/ego pushed back. When I said to my ego: “let’s just be curious about trying something new?”, I could really feel the tension relax. Something about the word “curious”, made my brain focus on the opportunity for “fun” instead of “discomfort” or “work.”

So fast forward a couple of years, I made the huge jump from that initial “operation: interrupt my husband’s shower-land”, to deciding to break some dishes! Talk about “practicing doing something irresponsible!” And, I also decided I was going to pay a place that gave me a metal bat and a sledgehammer to swing away at whatever I wanted to break! 

Even as I write this, it still sounds ludicrous. 

It was an idea that had come up in another women’s group that I was now a part of, and the suggestion was for someone else, but somehow it was if the idea was MEANT for me! As soon as the zoom call ended, I looked up “break things places” on google. Clicked on the link and found out the time and cost. It was a Wednesday and my kids’ Thanksgiving break started on Monday. And so Friday was the chosen day! 

As I entered the main room, of “Smash Lab”, and then walked into a dark room with neon writing on the walls, I felt as if I was going into one of those underground night clubs. There were two rows of white wooden shelves of various sized plates, bowls, glasses, cookware, and mugs labeled with colored dots indicated which level package I had bought- and therefore allowed to put in my cart. 

There I was, with this little shopping cart they provided me with- choosing which perfectly fine dishes to purposely smash to pieces. (The “irresponsible” meter was teetering wayyyy past the red zone!) 

The offering was really no different from rummage sale adventures where one person’s junk became my treasure. In fact, I saw a mug that I would have brought home from that rummage sale. It was a perfect blend of my favorite colors- green and blue. I paused for a second and then intentionally told the mug—"I’m sorry, but I gotta do this!”  And I put the mug in the cart.

After putting on a required safety costume of sorts consisting of an oversized jumpsuit, safety goggles and gloves- I carted my cart into a purple lit cinderblock room with a metal table that quite honestly reminded me of CSI shows when they investigate cadavers! But there I was in my outfit, feeling quite tough, so the eeriness of it just made my heart race in excitement not fear. 

On the walls were hooks holding various power inducing metal weapons, I mean tools. A bat, a sledgehammer, and a crowbar! And there was my shopping cart of specially selected things to break. 

I put the first dish somewhat carefully on that big metal table- as if it was a suspect that needing interrogating. My first weapon, I mean tool, I decided to use was a dented metal bat. It reminded me of fond days playing softball and it felt comfortable in my hands. 

And….swing! The dish broke into 10 pieces. After that first whack, I hesitated, and said to myself—“did I just do that?” After a quick pause of disbelief mixed with a “heck yeah”, I whammed the pieces even harder and harder! 

I picked up the next dish, and the next, and the next, and slammed away!

Then I went to get the sledgehammer, which felt a bit different in my hands- it was certainly much heavier and required a lot more muscle work than the bat. But the more I had to use my muscles, the more adrenaline flowed through me. And with the adrenaline flowing through me, I started to feel my chest and throat tighten up.

And as the feeling got more and more intense, I felt the shell of my false identity of “having to be responsible for everyone” start to break, and the tears started to flow. Tears from years of hidden anger, resentment, and frustration.  

After gripping the sledgehammer with so much might, it was as if the emotion brought on a weakness, or maybe that same energy went from my arm muscles to my heart instead. The sledgehammer got heavier, and heavier, and suddenly I couldn’t smash the pieces any smaller.

I could hear the faint whisper of my Soul telling my ego, “ya’ gotta let go. It’s okay, you’re safe with me.” 

And in that moment, I could feel my body releasing its old identity; a flood of compassion came over me and I felt the relief that I didn’t have to put any more energy into something that had been holding me back from being more of my true self! Geez! Sheesh! Whoopee!!!