All Comments By Alan Brisley

Jackie,

Thank you for the story. I, too, just wrote a personal story and reflection.

Yours was the first in a list of ten other responses. I got so excited to read the rest!

I have also now read them (well, skimmed actually.) I began skimming them because they had no stories!!!!! They were all about the philosophy or the lesson. Shocking, considering the reflective instructions . . . . . . . . Thank you for your story and your reflection. I will remember your story. I have already forgotten your reflection . . . . .

I was wearing a skirt, a colorful one, too, I think. In my obviously male body, this can be a bit unusual, but I wear skirts so often that I usually forget about the fact. I was in the line to catch the car ferry going to Seattle, standing next to my car when a middle aged white guy with a big belly, baseball cap, dressed in boots, Levis, big belt buckle and a t-shirt under a dirty jacket approached me with a clear intention of talking to me. I flashed on how I was dressed and internally steeled myself for some kind of attack. "Great game yesterday, wasn't it!" "It was awesome! Best game I've watched in years! And the Seahawks even won it!!" I had forgotten I was wearing a Seahawks cap. I was really moved that what this person noticed about me was our commonality, while what I perceived was difference. His reach was from enthusiasm and kindness. My withdrawal was from projection and fear. I think of myself as an extememely kind person, yet here I exhibited bias, prejudice and fear. This is akin to a kind of hate. Not an active burning kind of hate that is easy to spot, but the simmering, silent form of hate that builds walls and barriers, that isolates, retreats . . . . . . . readies itself to attack or defend if the perceived threat expresses itself to my filters, now in ready alert. I use affirmations and deep breaths to let go of bias, when my awareness picks it up. When I get blindsided, as I was above, first I recover from my guilt and shame then I dig for gold. It is golden, what we find buried beneath our biases, especially our unconscious ones. Once I am aware of a bias, I begin to track it. I notice what it's very first hint of an appearance feels like and I teach myself to pay attention for that so that I can affirm the truth of what my bias seeks to deny, before my reaction moves into my nervous system. When I am successful, I am capable of acting from my integrity instead of my bias. This feels good. The more I practice,... [View Full Comment] I was wearing a skirt, a colorful one, too, I think. In my obviously male body, this can be a bit unusual, but I wear skirts so often that I usually forget about the fact. I was in the line to catch the car ferry going to Seattle, standing next to my car when a middle aged white guy with a big belly, baseball cap, dressed in boots, Levis, big belt buckle and a t-shirt under a dirty jacket approached me with a clear intention of talking to me. I flashed on how I was dressed and internally steeled myself for some kind of attack.
"Great game yesterday, wasn't it!"
"It was awesome! Best game I've watched in years! And the Seahawks even won it!!"
I had forgotten I was wearing a Seahawks cap. I was really moved that what this person noticed about me was our commonality, while what I perceived was difference. His reach was from enthusiasm and kindness. My withdrawal was from projection and fear.
I think of myself as an extememely kind person, yet here I exhibited bias, prejudice and fear. This is akin to a kind of hate. Not an active burning kind of hate that is easy to spot, but the simmering, silent form of hate that builds walls and barriers, that isolates, retreats . . . . . . . readies itself to attack or defend if the perceived threat expresses itself to my filters, now in ready alert.

I use affirmations and deep breaths to let go of bias, when my awareness picks it up. When I get blindsided, as I was above, first I recover from my guilt and shame then I dig for gold. It is golden, what we find buried beneath our biases, especially our unconscious ones.

Once I am aware of a bias, I begin to track it. I notice what it's very first hint of an appearance feels like and I teach myself to pay attention for that so that I can affirm the truth of what my bias seeks to deny, before my reaction moves into my nervous system. When I am successful, I am capable of acting from my integrity instead of my bias. This feels good. The more I practice, the better it feels until my new behavior becomes habitual. Then, my nervous system only gets triggered by intense situations, where, sometimes, it might appropriately help me to protect myself or someone else.
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