David McElroy

An Alien Sent to Observe the Human Race

family

Smallest ray of hope can make us feel a change we need is coming

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The physical space around me is almost always a reflection of how happy I am.

When I’m unhappy and feeling lost, my house becomes a wreck. I don’t clean much. I don’t pick up after myself. Before long, it looks as though I live in a place where there’s been a tornado.

When I’m happy and feeling loved, my habits are entirely different. I’ll happily keep things fairly neat and clean, at least by my standards. When my heart is happy, I keep things looking decent, which satisfies my mind’s need for order — and that reinforces my happiness.

I haven’t been cleaning the house much lately, so it’s been a mess.

But for the past few hours, I’ve been cleaning. I’ve been sweeping and vacuuming and filling bags of trash. (Lucy and the cats still hate the vacuum cleaner.) Late Saturday night, I looked around and realized it was time for change, so I launched into a cleaning spree that might take all night.

Why? The only explanation is that I suddenly had a vision of something powerful — something that I need — which suddenly seemed real and possible.

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Pursuit of perfection leaves me feeling shame when I’m flawed

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I’m terrified of not being perfect.

Admitting that scares me. Talking about the concept makes me look around to make sure nobody is listening. I don’t want to talk about it, because I know my beliefs about it are contradictory and self-defeating. It’s even worse to admit this to you.

I found out Wednesday night that I made a mistake at work last month. I sent a couple thousand dollars that should have gone to one company to somebody else instead. I’ll go over a transaction in detail at the office tomorrow to be sure, but I’m almost positive I screwed something up.

The problem can be fixed, so nobody’s going to lose any money, but I am humiliated. It happened because we don’t have adequate controls in place for this one particular thing, but I’m still the one who failed to handle this one transaction in a different way.

You see, I’m not supposed to make mistakes. Never.

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Most prizes feel empty, because our real need is for connection

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We come into this life craving connection.

Before we know anything about the world — who we are, who our parents are, how we fit into a family — we instinctively reach out to connect with people around us. Our little fingers grasp whoever reaches out for us.

The most important connection we need from the beginning is with our mother. We want her touch. We crave her attention. We need her breast. We listen for her voice. We eagerly crave her love. We need her approval and her presence.

We quickly crave connection with both parents (or substitutes) and maybe with an extended family. We want to be loved. We need to belong. We crave connection.

For many of us, something goes wrong along the way — and we spend years or decades trying to find whatever was lost. We can be confused about what we need. We can seek substitutes. We can chase achievements that seem as though they might satisfy our needs. But something is still missing.

For me, all of the connection I eagerly crave today goes back to what was lost when I was a little boy — and I understand now that it started when I lost my mother.

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