Compelled to Be Humble

I am a very capable person. "Here goes narcissistic Cami again," say the two people who read this blog. I'm not saying that I'm absolutely terrific at everything. That's not even close. What I mean is that I am okay at a lot of things, and I'm a quick learner. If someone needs me to do something, I can learn pretty quickly and do a semi-decent job. And I can do a lot of things semi-decently. I don't know a lot about anything, but I know a little about a lot of things.

Sometimes this capability combined with an overwhelming fear that I am a burden on everyone I meet means I do things on my own. All the time. I am not good at asking for help. And I exacerbate that by trying to help others. All the time. I can't be a burden on people if I'm helping, right?

Wrong.

Just kidding, I just wanted to say that. Well, actually sometimes people are burdensome when they are trying to help. But that's not really the point I want to make today.

I find a lot of purpose in my being able to help people. Because without helping others, I'm not much else. And even if people don't like me, I can at least make a small difference in their lives. Within the last month, an overwhelming inability to help people has come to my attention. I have several areas of my life where I am literally powerless. I have family members, friends, and even myself who need help in some way or another, and am absolutely of no use. Nothing I do can change some things. And it hurts. It's a hard truth. As one of my co-workers says often, "Truth hurts with Cami." (I'm am a little too well-known for being blunt and telling people how it is.)

My purpose is to help people. And I can't. Which is really, really awful. I've cried a tear or two almost every day for three weeks. But it was at the most inconvenient times, so I had to truncate the tears. Funny story, there was one group I was in where another therapist said something hurtful to me. Since we wear masks, I cried one tear that just dripped down my cheek into my mask, so no one could see it. And it's just so funny to think about now, but I only allowed my one tear and then tried to stifle the sniffling. My nose runs so bad when I cry. So bad. I'm pretty sure my crying actually comes out of my nose more than my eyes. Anyway, this has been a fun tangent. Short story: It has been a long and rough month with things that I can't help with or control piling up and compounding. So I finally just cried and cried.

I was "compelled to be humble" as Alma 32 talks about. I couldn't just be humble on my own; I had to have everything pile up and then sit on the floor crying for an hour to really let it go. And I had to hear in General Conference that I need to give my whole soul to Christ and that the Lord will help me more than I can help myself. I have to give it all--all of it, everything, my whole self--to the Lord. I have been okay at giving some of it to the Lord, even all parts of a few aspects of my life to the Lord. But it's not enough. I literally don't have power on my own.

I can't do a lot of things. I can't take away people's anxieties or depressions. I can't take away people's desires to kill themselves. I can't make anyone accept the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I can't make any of the boys I like, like me back. I can't make someone talk to me. I can't make anyone stop abusing anyone else. And the list goes on and on. I can't do a lot of things.

Jesus can. I don't know what He will. But He can. And He will do more than I can. So I have to give everything up, not just a little bit. Give all of it.

In light of not being able to do stuff, I call the series below "Cami Trying Something New and Not Knowing What She's Doing." The backstory is that I was trying to involve more movement/dance (granted very simple dance--or so I thought) into my Recreation Therapy. And this was me recording myself to see what moves I liked and trying to decide how I would put the moves together. These shots are in the middle of several moves that I tried. I have not run this new group idea with any patients yet. It's a work in progress.