Although it’s not very charming to admit, most of us at some time or another believe that we either deserve special treatment or that we are special. It isn’t something we talk about directly or even talk about at all. It quite possibly is just one way to say that we are different than other people or (ick) that we are better than other people. Not so attractive.
As I think back, I recognize this theme has been developing since I popped out of my mother’s womb. When I was an infant, I almost died of pneumonia. Babies and toddlers who experience some kind of serious illness often get treated a bit differently than their siblings. There is something special about them. They are inadvertently sent the message that they are special because they could have died, and didn’t. I think from an early age, some of our parents (doing what they think is best) send us an ongoing message that we are special. They inadvertently teach us we are different and we can shine, maybe even shine brighter than anyone else. We get the message that we are special and we deserve a good life, that we deserve happiness…that we are deserving.
In high school, I was the class president three out of four years, I was the homecoming queen, I was voted most popular. In college, I received special treatment at the sorority because my older sister paved the way. I moved into the sorority house as a freshman, I was the pledge class president who eventually became the president of the chapter (we won’t go into how ‘un-special” it was when a member through an iron at me). I was on the college student government. I was nominated for SIU homecoming queen. I was awarded awards that at the time continued to convince me I was special, that I stood out from the crowd, that I was somehow different.
This pattern has continued through adulthood. It has continued into my professional life as a social worker (people think you are special when you help kids whom no-one else likes), in my vocation as a yoga teacher/studio owner, in my friendships, in other relationships and on my yoga mat. Recently it has become crystal clear that believing in the concept of being special is not only an illusion, but it is an illusion that is a direct path to the big island of suffering.
This “specialness” has been coming up over and over lately. Just yesterday my neighbor and I were talking about how there comes a time when Cub fans just need to know they are deserving of their team winning a World Series, that they are special too. Cub fans need to know they are good enough fans and come on, they just need a bit of recognition. Cub fans just need to be recognized as legitimate fans rooting for a legitimate team. Right?
The “specialness” factor came up in my last job and is already coming up in my new job. Last year one of my co-workers said to me “you know it’s a far fall when she decides your not special.” YUCK! YUCK on so many different levels. This year, in my new job I recognize some people think I am special and some people think I am not special. If I am not living mindfully, I get really caught up in this game of how to keep the people thinking I am special and getting the people who don’t think I am~ to think I am. Can you say YUCK again? No wonder sometimes I feel sooooo tired.
There are other situations in my life where I am one in a group of three. I regularly notice myself thinking about if the other two think I am good enough, if I am living up to their expectations of greatness, of worthiness. It’s no wonder I have two deep lines forming between my eyebrows. This is a tactical nightmare. How can anyone juggle all of this? It’s going against the stream of universal energy. As Ester Hickes describes it, it’s moving upstream.
Maybe this need to feel special or different is just one way for us to convince ourselves that we are in fact good enough. If I believe you think I am special, I must be good enough and worthy (this has to be accompanied by the belief that you know me way better than I know me). This need to be special, to be different, to be better is one way to avoid the recognition that we are perfect just as we are. We may be perfectly fucked up, or perfectly unhappy, perfectly jobless or penniless or lonely. We can avoid being with the recognition that how we are, is really just how we are…in this moment. If we feel like we are special then we somehow continue the myth that we deserve better, shouldn’t be in this situation and should have everything we want. I can’t think of a better way to spend our lives paddling upstream, without any paddles. It’s the best way I can think of to send the universe the vibrational message that we know better than it. We are sending the message we know life should be different than it is. This seems like a fantabulous way to get our energy stuck. In the mud.
The other reason I think we might want to carry around this message that we are special or different is because then we believe we won’t ever be forgotten. Right? If I believe that you think I am the bees knees then you can’t possibly forget about me, ever. There is nothing like believing that I can live on forever and ever and ever, even if only in your memory. If I am different than everyone you have ever met (code for more special) then in some weird way I walk around with the idea that I am (meaning my personality) immortal. Believing that you think I am the most beautiful, loving, smart, funny, neurotic being you have ever known or that I am the best friend you have ever had, or that I am the best yoga teacher in the whole freaking world, or that I am really the best employee in the organization, or have the best haircut south of Chicago, or have the most potential, or am the friendliest neighbor on the block, or on and on and on sends me right to feeling solid, valid, important and seen. The label of me has been solidified. Now I know who I am. Right? This knowing is going to be accompanied by an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. It’s exhausting because in order for me to continue to out do myself, to keep you thinking that I rock, is a butt load of work. It’s the kind of work that never stops, never has an end. It means that while I exist right now I need to be thinking about what I am going to do next (in order to keep on the top rung of the special ladder). It should be noted here that it will be absolutely devastating when I realize that likely you have had these thoughts about other people (of course implying that I am just one person in a long line of special people to you) or if heaven forbid you change your mind about how great I am. That is the kind of realization that makes a girl with a solidified identity want to vomit and/or stay under the covers.
There are multiple reasons why continuing the specialness illusion is not such a brilliant plan. The most difficult to remember reason and the most important (or special) reason is that when I am looking for you to validate me, the me I am really talking about is the self with a small s (rather than the self with a big s). I am looking for you to solidify my pea brained self. I am looking for you to solidify my ego (can you think of anything more ego driven than wanting to be viewed as special, or better or different than everyone else?) When I am looking for you to think I rock, I am continuing to trick myself into believing that who I am, who I really am, is mortal. However, who I really am at the core is the same as who you really are and that is without a beginning, without an end, immortal and way more special than this never ending fictional autobiography I keep spinning.
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