#409 – How gratitude kept my Ego and the Ghosts quiet

Do I need to prove I didn't lie?

Yesterday, I sat in a courtroom for the last time in my son's case. He was changing his plea to "guilty," as the final, necessary step to be released from his 309-day incarceration.

Before ruling, the Judge allowed the accuser and his son to read their statements.

My son's attorneys, having read the statements, warned us: "you'll want to cringe but please, keep your poker faces."

In a several-page long, single-spaced document, the doctor recounted the narrative he's built around this case.

With every statement that video evidence (and my direct experience in his office) had disproven, my ribs contracted with indignity.

The Ghost of Need to Prove wanted me to stand up and yell, "he's lying!" But I wouldn't do that to my son. I wouldn't do that to myself, if I wanted to stand up to the real bully here––the Ghost.

So, I started to repeat "thank you" in my head. That was also how I'd responded to the doctor's wife, when, minutes earlier, she'd gone out of her way to tell me (verbatim), "all that's happening to your son is because you lied."

Magically, saying "thank you" to each counterfactual statement, poker-faced, defused the Ghost's power and relaxed my ribs. My lungs expanded, removing the pressure of the anxiety from my solar plexus.

I want to feel compassion for and forgive this person because I know he's just a human, like me. I'm sorry for his pain and wish that, one day, he'll find forgiveness in his heart.

And I'm grateful, because my son is now a greater being thanks to this unimaginably hard experience. Despite the court's ruling, I know my son's not a criminal, and that's what counts.

But maybe the Ghost is still operating in the background as I write this piece.

What incendiary statements will you say "thank you" to, so that your Ghost of Need to Prove shuts down?

Love,

Carolina