Inspired Possibility Blog

Swimming in the Messy Stages of Grief

1/18/2022

I intended to write a blog last week. I wanted to.   I intended to record a meditation. I wanted to. I did. And, I just didn’t have it in me. Somehow time went by and I hadn’t done it, day after day. That’s what’s true. I wish I could have pushed through and maybe even inspired myself in the process, but I just didn’t feel like it. I am trying to be gentle with myself with this thing that has inhabited my being for the past few weeks, surprising me with how and when it hits in a way that just takes me down.

I was going to write about moving with grief, living with grief, being with grief… because that’s what I felt like I was doing last week. I had the good fortune of tapping into a gift practice that Paul Denniston of Grief Yoga had shared with his email list the day before Mary died – Grief Dancer.   I practiced two days in a row (surely, that’s enough, right!?)… I cried, I laughed, I looked at Mary’s picture, I said her name out loud, I dedicated the practice to her and I let myself sob and bring up what had been pushed down. I felt like I was doing a pretty good job being with my grief in a world that doesn’t do this well. I talked to a couple of people who I hadn’t already burdened with my story, because I don’t want to weigh anyone down with hearing the same thing over and over, when there’s nothing new to say.

One Day of Grief (Yesterday)
Damn, this grief stuff can be very lonely. I wish I lived in a community that knew how to grieve together. I wish I had people I could spontaneously call and just cry or vent with. I probably do, but when I feel like this it’s hard to find the energy to figure out who that might be or to have the resilience to deal with needing to schedule a time, with voice mails or unanswered calls.
And so I turn to my writing… because reliably and consistently this is an outlet for my heart to express what’s going on. To discover this myself as it pours itself onto the page. I know there isn’t a person out there who can really hold this with me in a way that will feel satisfying because there are no words to describe the ache within.

I tried to sit down to meditate, and I wanted to explode. My whole being was way too agitated… being still wasn’t what I wanted or needed right then, but I didn’t really know what I wanted or needed so I headed outdoors to take a quick walk in the brisk wind. I talked out loud to Mary, risking appearing to be a crazy person talking to myself. I told her how pissed I am – not at her, but at so many things (and everything right now because that’s just what’s brewing in my belly and heart). I’m pissed at the people downstairs who yell at their screaming kids all day and night. I’m pissed at myself that I skipped yoga to take a phone call that didn’t even go well. I’m pissed that the cookie didn’t make everything ok. I’m pissed that my husband can be in the guest room and laugh with a friend while I’m locking myself in my room and going through 4 tissues (even though yesterday I tucked myself away for several calls where I did laugh).

Today I feel a little jealous. And I feel sorry for myself. I hate feeling sorry for myself. I want to jump out of my own skin, but of course I can’t get away from me. Can you see all the #@^& that I’m swimming in?? I’m pissed that I can’t call Mary. I’m pissed that I feel so alone and don’t know where to turn to talk through the hard things coming my way. I’m pissed at systems that are so messed up. I’m pissed that so much is uncertain in the days and months ahead. I’m pissed at Covid and how it impedes my desire or ability to plan. I’m just pissed.

Only it’s not just pissed because I’m also sad… really, really sad in a way I don’t remember feeling before though I’m pretty sure it’s familiar. Probably times I’ve blocked out of my memory. Sad in a way that leaves me feeling lost and not caring that I’m lost. Sad in a way that buckles me and takes away the light. Sad in a way that just leaves me feeling flat and like I just don’t care… but that’s not true. I care very much about so many things and people.

“Grief can have a quality of profound healing because we are forced to a depth of feeling that is usually below the threshold of awareness. “ – Stephen Levine

It’s confusing, this grief thing… It eats away at me at times and other times it’s a silent resident, letting me live a more normal life. I can play cards, eat meals, go to the beach and enjoy the playful dogs, I can talk with my husband and friends. At times I can even get out of my own stuff and listen to them. But not always. And I worry about being a burden. I worry that no one wants to hear this. I worry that they’ll dread my calls or texts. So, I keep it to myself until someone asks and then it comes leaking out or gushing out – depends on the day. Put me in a space with a tender loving heart, and I lose it. If someone could actually hug me, I don’t know what that would do – melt me, support me, or break me. It wouldn’t break me, but I might just have a big old ugly cry for a long, long time. If I actually had the space to do that.

Lots of the time I feel numb and flat. Not sad but not happy or inspired. Just here. Existing. Getting by. Taking one step at a time – left foot, right foot, as my friend Steve says. And maybe that’s all we can do in this world called grief. Keep on slogging forward, feeling alone, but knowing we’re not because we know there are others grieving along with us. We try to find inspiration. We try to find healing. On my way back from my chilly walk I picked up the mail – Healing Through Yoga: Transform Loss into Empowerment by Paul Denniston is waiting for me. I smile wryly at my ongoing pattern of thinking someone else has an answer for me – thinking it’s “out there” in some book, podcast, social media group, or program. I keep searching, even though I know that this is a time when the real work is an inner journey. There is no magical anything out there that will make this any easier or quicker.

I know there’s no easy fix. I know that the only way to heal is to feel. I know I have to move through this, one icky bit at a time. And I know it sucks. No one can take this pain from me and maybe I don’t even want them to. I don’t know what I want. I want my person back. Beyond that… I just don’t know.

Joyful Ease(?)
Today I had signed up for a workshop on Joyful Ease – I log in even though I’m not feeling it. Maybe I’ll get a little something. Mostly I don’t. I can’t really connect with the idea of joy so coming up with a plan for how to bring joy in each day just doesn’t land. I’m tired after those 90 minutes. So, I lie down. I close my eyes and give the weight of my body to the bed… this feels nourishing. I rest but don’t quite sleep. It’s weird because I can feel the relaxation in most of my body yet inside there’s still an energy that feels like a trapped wild animal. I want to scream until I have no voice, but I am aware that there are people around. I could scream into a pillow… and I can’t even gather the energy to do that. So, I lie here… I rest. I take a break and I do relish a brief period of peace and quiet. Momentarily the furnace muffles the ticking clock. Blessedly the screaming kids and yelling parents from downstairs go away for a while. I can breathe. The hours have ticked by and somehow, I’ve made it through another chunk of time. Another day is almost over. I feel wrung out. And, somehow, I did it. I made it. One moment at a time. Maybe I did find some degree of joyful ease within the pain.

Stages of Grief
The “stages of grief” aren’t something we move through in a linear way. They are not things we can experience once and check off the box. They come in and out and overlap. My husband came to talk with me while I was in the midst of all of this today and together, we looked them up and tried to identify where I am in this moment… seems like I’m swimming around in denial, bargaining, depression, and anger right now according to this chart. The first week as I learned the end was near the denial was intense. There have been moments of acceptance, but not peaceful acceptance. Acceptance as in, “OK. I know she’s gone. I know I can’t pick up the phone and call her. I know there are no more days ahead when we will laugh or play together.” But not acceptance that comes with ease.

Today…
All of that was written just yesterday – less than 24 hours ago. That’s important to note because it highlights impermanence – the truth that nothing lasts. Nothing. Not the way you feel right now. Not the way you see the world. Not the weather. When we stay awake and aware we can remember that and lean into it with confidence. Not as a panacea, but as a gentle reminder to hang in there when it feels like we can’t.

Today I woke up feeling some of the residue of yesterday’s slog, but not nearly the heaviness that I was carrying then. The sun coming up each day sometimes annoys me, because it feels like the world should stand still when you’re facing a loss such as this; mostly it reassures me by reminding me of the natural rhythm of things, of one thing we can count on day in and day out. Today it reminded me that I could begin again this day.

I get to choose how to greet each moment. I set my intention to be gentle with myself. I get to choose to not skip yoga, but to do the recorded version so that I can talk to my son when he calls and then finish my practice which feels like the best of both worlds.

Today I can talk with my son about what I didn’t like about yesterday’s conversation, what troubles me, what I need us to do differently going forward. Today we can talk it through, and I can hear his perspective that wasn’t nearly as dire as mine.

I can see that it wasn’t any one thing that set me off yesterday. It was a collection of many things. Missing my boys and wishing we could talk more easily and often. Missing my friends and the ease of being together. Grateful for Zoom, but so tired of this way of having to be together. Remembering that Covid has put an ongoing level of stress and feeling unsafe on all of us as it’s added a layer of complexity and contemplation that makes daily life exhausting. Grief. Loneliness. Angst. It all came together in a perfect storm. And, I was able to ride it out in my own imperfect way.

Today I can see all of the many things I could have done yesterday to help me cope better or maybe to move through all of the struggle more easily. I have a ton of practices and tools that support me. And I see that I didn’t want to use any of them. On some level I knew that I needed to wade through the swampiness yesterday. I needed to cry. I needed to rest. I needed to let myself be miserable. It was part of my healing. It was part of the journey. I knew I was ok even as much as I didn’t like it. It reminds me that I can live through moments that feel unbearable. It reminds me of the ground upon which I stand that knows it’s not about jumping over the hard stuff to get to the good feels again. I don’t want to go for the silver lining or even relief too soon. Yesterday there was no comforting me, and that’s ok.

Together
I don’t even know if I should share this with you. I worry that you’ll worry about me or think I’ve fallen apart beyond repair (I can say with confidence that I haven’t). After talking with a lovely colleague yesterday about the value of being REAL, I’m going to hit “publish” in hopes that maybe it will resonate with someone. Maybe someone out there needs to hear one little bit of this. Maybe there’s some value in what I have to offer. I know there’s value for me in getting it out of my head and being able to take it in in black and white. Maybe one grieving heart will connect with my words and feel a little less alone or misunderstood. Maybe, just maybe, we will grieve together for a moment. If this is you, I’m sending love your way. You do not walk alone. We are in this messy human life together.

Want a little further reflection on grief? I invite you to read my last post, Good Grief, Gratitude, and Grace.

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Good Grief, Gratitude, and Grace

1/7/2022

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Last year when our Soul Care group met in December and reflected on 2020, I invited a reflection on “good grief and gratitude,” acknowledging both. What we were grieving, what we had lost, as well as what we were grateful for. Because both are possible. Both can be and often are present at the same time. This reflection came because I knew we were all grieving something at the end of 2020. I just had no idea how much this practice and awareness would serve me again and again.

Grief…
This year during my two week holiday break I have had the opportunity to revisit this idea in a deeply profound and painful way. I received a call on the eve of the winter solstice that my dear friend, Mary, was dying. My friend who was way too young to be leaving us, was at the end of the journey. My friend, who was always so vibrant and full of joy and life… I still can’t even conceive how it is possible.

That call set off a long period of crying and such deep sadness. Looking in the mirror as I brushed my teeth, seeing the depth of my own pain, made me cry even more. I couldn’t sleep that night, although I rested and did my best to travel across time and space to sit with her hundreds of miles away. I wasn’t able to say goodbye to her in person because by the next day the decision had been made to limit visitors to family only. I understood. I honored that decision. And I know that it was ok because there was nothing left unsaid, no regrets, no question about how we felt about one another… and yet there was a deep sadness at not being able to sit with her just one more time. My grief journey had begun.

On the solstice, this day of extended darkness, I headed to the lake to have a little ceremony to honor Mary, our friendship, her life, and the start of this grief journey, which I know will move and evolve, but won’t end. I drank some water from a cup she gave me last Christmas, signifying the nourishment this friendship has given me over the past 11 years. I took the dandelions that I found on my walk down to the water (Yes! Dandelions in western NY in December – one bright yellow and one in fluffy wishing form!!) and offered them up to the water – the yellow one signifying the resilience of a friendship that will never die. The wishing one sprinkling my wishes to her for peace and for a peaceful transition surrounded in love. I took baby Snoopy with me – a gift from Mary years ago. I threw a shell lei and a bracelet that says “Aloha” into the water – “aloha” being the beautiful Hawaiian word which means love, affection, compassion, mercy, kindness, or grace and can be used as a greeting or farewell – this time was all of these things for me. I lit a candle that says “I am free,” not wanting Mary to go, and at the same time knowing her body was done with fighting. In some way connecting from my heart to hers, sending out a love offering, a goodbye.

She passed away several days later, early on Christmas Eve morning, and grief settled in as I considered this new impossible reality. There will be no more calls, no more laughter, no more tears, no more venting and pondering the ways of the world. Our world got a little darker that day and sometimes this hits me as an endless stream of grey days before me… days without this beacon of light and love in them.

My sweet sons have both lamented at how powerless they’ve felt, wishing I didn’t have to go through this, wishing there was something they could do. I know now that there is nothing TO DO when someone is grieving… it is enough and it is everything to simply love them, let them know you care and that this sucks. That’s about it. I appreciate their love and concern, and I feel held in the warmth of it. I have so appreciated my husband who has been by my side since that first phone call (no coincidence that he was working on Mary’s Christmas gift at that moment), simply being with me, sitting with me, allowing me the space for my anguish to rise and move through me.

I appreciate the friends who have reached out to acknowledge the depth of this loss and who give me space to be with it in my own way, which changes day to day and moment to moment. Sometimes I don’t want to talk at all – I just want to be alone in my memories, thoughts, sadness over what will never be, resisting the temptation to pick up the phone and call her. In this early stage, at times it just feels like we haven’t talked in awhile and we need to catch up. And then I remember. Her image is always in my mind. Her love is always on my heart. Thoughts of her flit through my consciousness repeatedly and at random times. Signs of her presence are everywhere and while they offer some comfort, they don’t fill the ache. The ache often feels like a cavernous empty space deep, deep within me.

And all I can do is learn to live in this place. I can learn to keep moving forward, even when it feels like a heavy slog, one step at a time. I can learn to carry this grief. I can be very, very gentle with myself as I do.

Why “good grief?”
So, why in the world would I title this “good grief” (aside from the fact that I love Snoopy and it doesn’t take long for me to hear this phrase and flip from an image of Charlie Brown to his dog who always brings a small smile). Isn’t grief painful and therefore bad? Yes, it is very painful, and no, I don’t think it’s bad. Would I prefer not to feel it? Of course. Most of us would. But I don’t think it’s bad. Deep grief comes from deep love. Loving and losing people (and pets, jobs, life situations) is part of this messy human life. We need to learn to do grief better as a people. Grief is the price we pay for having loved well.

Grief, as one of my friends put it, is a new landscape we step into that feels foreign and unfamiliar (or maybe it has a familiar feel to it, reminding you of another time you’ve felt a profound loss). We don’t quite know our way around and we may feel like we’re walking through a fog. Or maybe we just curl up in a corner somewhere and can’t even bear to look around.

Mindfulness practices have helped me to be with this part of life the same way they help me to be with all the other aspects of life. Being able to be real about what’s going on is part of good grief. Not pretending to be ok when we are not. Not letting anyone else tell us how our grief should go or when we should be done with it. Good grief allows us space to feel as we feel, moment by moment. It recognizes that the moments will change and we may even find ourselves smiling or laughing or enjoying some bit of life, even if we feel like maybe we shouldn’t. Good grief allows for the complexity of life and gives us permission to feel deeply sad, maybe angry, confused, lost, scared, as well as happy, inspired, or contented. Grief takes energy and it takes up residence in our bodies. We can’t pretend well enough to fool our insides about how we’re really doing. We need to take time to honor the healing process.

There is no right way to do grief – it’s an individual journey and much of it is probably done alone. At the same time, I have found it helpful to let myself be held and supported, to not have to be strong through this. I’ve said yes to generous offers where in the past it might have been hard for me to receive. In part I just don’t have the energy to say “no,” so, yes. Thank you. Thank you for the healing. Thank you for the listening. Thank you for asking me about her. Thank you for acknowledging our relationship and for trying to understand who she was to me.

Gratitude? Really?
Again, yes. Gratitude. Because I am deeply grateful for this person, this friendship that was part of my life for almost 11 years. Because I knew her, my life has been forever changed. Because we loved one another and shared so much, I will hurt and ache. And, I don’t regret a bit of it. I would not have missed out on this relationship to avoid this pain. Mary brightened my days and I loved watching the way she chose to live her life even in the face of an ominous diagnosis. I am grateful for what she continues to inspire in me.

I’ve heard that one of the best ways to keep our loved ones alive is to embody the qualities we most admired in them. In this case that would be joy, compassion, empathy, strength, resilience, and a boundless capacity to love unlike anyone I have ever known. She also lived with a curiosity and open-minded presence because she genuinely desired to understand people and their points of view. As a special education teacher, she worked hard to expose her kids to all kinds of beliefs and to invite them to think critically for themselves, considering life’s big questions. I am grateful that someone like her graced our world for these 48 years. I am grateful for the ripple effect of her love and care. I am grateful to have experienced someone who lived all of this so fully. (If you’d like to experience one teeny tiny bit of it, please listen to her conversation with my friend and colleague, Keith Greer here on The Helping Conversation Podcast).

So, yes, even in times of deep pain and loss we can find things to be grateful for. We wouldn’t be hurting so much if what we’ve lost hadn’t been so very special. Taking some time to reflect on that and soak into appreciation for all that was can be a healing balm.

Grace
Grace allows us to find the gratitude. It also allows us to be gentle with ourselves as the tears come and we pull up the covers and hide away. There is grace in a friend’s phone call or text, offering to listen or simply sending some love. Grace is woven into the sweet sadness of a tear-soaked pillow. Grace in random kindnesses that come at just the right time. Grace in a moment of laughter or levity or a moment of insight or inspiration. Grace flows among those who share in the collective loss and love. Grace is the gentleness that says, “It’s ok. You don’t have to push right now. You don’t have to figure this out right now. There’s no rush. Take your time, dear one. This hurts. And, it’s ok. You don’t have to be ok. You don’t have to be anything other than exactly what you are in this moment.”

I invite you to join me in this journey of good grief, gratitude, and grace. What have you lost that you want to acknowledge and give yourself permission to feel? Perhaps it is a beloved being who’s died or maybe it’s the life you imagined you’d have, a job you lost, or perhaps you are grieving the state of our world.

What can you pause to notice that arouses a sense of gratitude from within. Where is grace at play and how might you extend it to yourself or others?

It’s a journey. And, this being human is not for the faint of heart. But here we are. So, let’s walk together into the unknown landscape of tomorrow. Thank you for being here with me. It certainly helps to not journey alone.

If you, too, are feeling some sense of grief, I offer you this poem, along with the reassurance that you are not alone and the assurance that you will not always feel this way: (also, please visit my Resources Page that has many, many supports for you at this time).

Inconceivable
by Barb Klein from 111 Invitations

Things happen.
We cannot imagine
or fathom
how or why.

They grip us
and tear at us
as we clench our heart
and let our tears flow.

Anguish
Sadness
Confusion
Loss

How to make sense
of the inconceivable?
Where to begin?
How to go on?

Perspective comes
in these moments
of grief.

But with little to grasp,
to anchor us
to any solid footing,
we flail, lost
and tossed
into the swirling mist
of confusion and pain.

Knowing not what we need
or how anyone can help.

Only that we are broken
(at least in this moment).

Thoughts? Reflections? Please share. Let's explore these ideas of grief, gratitude, and grace together. It's one way we can grow together and become better at this part of being human.

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Out of the Darkness...Into the Light

12/21/2021

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As I revisit and revise this post, originally written for MomPower last year, I am sitting with some fresh, raw, and very deep sadness. I am grateful to re-read this message and take it into my own heart as I sit with myself with tears streaming down my face.

Today marks the winter solstice here in the Northern Hemisphere. On this darkest day of the year, the pivotal moment between dark and light, it is the perfect time to honor the darkness that has come into our lives. It is a time to honor those who have been lost and to remember them with love. It is a time to honor the struggle and the perseverance of those who are on a challenging journey and to honor ourselves and other loved ones who have also found a way through the darkness.

In honoring the darkness and in grieving the losses we have endured, we bring those moments into the light. When we bring them into the light, they are no longer hiding in the shadows, lurking in shame, or hidden in silence. We claim and name our experience. We see it for what it has been. We presence it.

When we do this, we are able to step forward into the light. Just as the days begin to get longer with a bit more light from tomorrow on, we too can begin to bring more light into our homes and our beings.

Addiction, cancer, mental illness (to name a few) are painful diseases, as you undoubtedly know. They affect everyone in their wake and can take down entire families with the weight of suffering.

However (and this is a big however), the journey from darkness to light does not have to take us out forever. It is possible to find hope, joy, peace, love, and to create a brighter tomorrow, even when we have been impacted by a loved one's disease.

If you are reading this, you are alive, and for that fact alone there is reason to celebrate. You have been given the opportunity to live one more day. What will you do with this one precious life you have been given? How will you set your soul free to express itself? What is uniquely yours to do?

Is there some way to honor your journey up to this very moment--the good, the bad, and the ugly, the full messiness of it all? The painful, the joyous, the fearfulness, and the hope? Whatever it’s looked like in the past, today marks a new day, albeit a short one. Tomorrow offers the light of fresh possibility, as each day does. How do you want to step into tomorrow?

If we are able to find a way to turn our pain (or darkness) into possibility (or light), we can transform these heavy experiences into something that serve and support us and others. We can show up for life more fully. We can become who we were born to be. With each loss I experience I also experience a fresh resolve to live this life even more fully.

Let’s face it, the past 2 years have carried a full load of darkness, collectively, along with anything that you might have experienced personally.

For many the holidays are emotionally-charged times and may bring in a healthy mix of emotions… sadness, joy, celebration, loneliness. I know I will be feeling both sadness for those who are not with us during this holiday season as well as joy and gratitude for those who are.

There is room for it all. When we allow ourselves to feel it all, to allow our hearts to carry this messy mix of what makes us human, we are able to move through it.

“Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” ~ Brene Brown

So, let this pivotal day be a day that marks the honoring of both the dark and the light. Let us take a step back and look at the big picture of our lives and recognize that our experiences have not been all good or all bad, but rather a mix of both.

These diseases can entomb us with their heavy cloak of darkness if we let them, but we can choose to lift up the corner of that cloak and peek outside. We can lay down the heaviness and step into the light. We get to choose.

We may well prefer the moments of lightness, light-heartedness, and light in general, but there is also a gift to receive during the dark and challenging times. We must be willing to sit with this part of our reality if we are to truly enjoy the light.

I have found that it is in the dark where I have grown the most. I wonder if that might be true for you as well. I offer you this poem for consideration.

The Places We Grow
It’s in the dark,
in the shadows,
where we stretch and grow.

We face ourselves
and see a new or forgotten aspect,
a piece we’d rather ignore or deny.

But there it is…
staring us down,
daring us to change,
to find a new way,
or to simply come into acceptance.

Sometimes it’s about overcoming
or adjusting.
Finding a way to do this with
love, compassion,
and gentle communion.

Honoring the self…
who I am,
where I am,
what I need,
what my baggage is.

And stepping into a deeper layer,
excavating and shifting,
allowing new light in,
and new hope out.

These are the places we grow –
often watered
and nourished with tears.
© Barb Klein, 2016, “The Places We Grow,” from 111 Invitations: Step into the Full Richness of Life

Where and how can you nourish yourself today? How might you allow some new light in--to your being, to your life? How can you allow a little more hope to shine into the world?

Begin by greeting yourself exactly where you are--gently, with tenderness, care, and compassion. Offer yourself the space and grace to feel into what’s alive within your heart at this moment. Ask your heart what it needs at this moment to be truly nurtured and nourished. Then respond accordingly. You deserve your own loving care.

We are on the cusp of a new year and we can only hope that 2022 is bringing with it new possibility, hope, and fresh beginnings. Today let’s pause. Let’s look at our lives and our loved ones with reverence. Let’s honor this journey where we have walked, crawled, and stumbled while we look ahead to the light of new creativity. Let’s let this darkest day of the year—December 21-- be a personal pivotal moment for us to enter an illuminated future.

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Lessons, Legacy, and Lightness...

12/7/2021

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It’s been a week… a week of BIG lessons, of reflecting on legacy, and of weaving lightness into it all (thanks to a friend reminding me of that one!). Much of this came from being on retreat with a beautiful group of wise, loving, vulnerable, courageous, and open-hearted women. Being in community like that seems to draw out deeper insights and wisdom than what I could discover on my own. Sharing silence, sharing meals, sharing practices like meditation, yoga, and Tai Chi somehow deepens and enhances them. And, retreat has a magic of its own… it works on us in its own way, for sure!

Lessons learned:

Sharing the load, whether it’s work or pain is a beautiful opportunity that brings deep relief and enriches everyone
We all carry pain, grief, and unimaginable turns of events in our lives. We do not have to carry our pain alone when we can find people we trust. Comparing our stories or circumstances to anyone else’s can silence us and lead us to stuff what we’re feeling, and that’s just not helpful. Our pain is valid too. Stuffing it or holding it in silence is unsustainable – find someone you trust to share a bit with.
Same with our dreams – we don’t have to hold them alone in silence. When we can find people with “believing eyes” as Sonia Choquette calls them, our dreams, hopes, and visions get infused with a fresh energy! And, there’s no point in comparing our dreams to anyone else’s. You’re not here to live out anyone’s ideas and purpose other than your own!
Laughter is good for the soul. Right!? You already knew that! It’s especially good when the world feels so heavy. Go ahead… have a great belly laugh as soon as you can!
We all want to be seen and heard. To know that we matter, at least to one other being. We have no idea who’s listening or who we’re reaching simply by being who we are. Trust me. You matter.
When we share our stories, our sadness, our regrets, our hopes, and our visions, we give others permission to do the same. Also, as we listen to others, we find more threads of commonality than we could have imagined. We can relate on a heart level to one another’s joys, hopes, sadness, fear, and grief and marvel at our interconnection.
Opening our hearts softens us. Compassion and love are limitless. And, it’s in our softness that we find our true power – not from muscling through, pushing on, or forcing things, but from relaxing and allowing ourselves a willingness to hear and feel what feels right and true for us.
We are often much better at knowing what others need and caring for them than we are at knowing what we need and how to care for ourselves. But, as we learn to turn our TLC toward ourselves, allowing ourselves to be filled up and nourished, everyone benefits.
We are also much better at seeing other people’s gifts while we are so often blind to our own. We extend them generosity, grace, and permission that we deny ourselves. We invite them to share their insights and creativity, and too often we hold back our own.
People are WEARY! There is too much noise out there right now. Our bodies need rest, our minds need rest, our souls need rest, and our hearts need rest. They also need quiet in order to have the space to hear inner wisdom, to tap into creativity, to gain fresh perspective, or to consider a new possibility. And, we all need to feel connection and love.
Silence is the secret sauce that opens hearts, sets souls free, and invites us to hear the wisdom of our own whisperings.
Sometimes our isolation is self-imposed. We may have set up walls or hidden away for one reason or another. The good news is that we hold the key to setting ourselves free!
We too often suffer silently while others are oh so willing to extend a hand, offer a hug, sit and simply listen, or allow you to delegate a piece of the work to them.
No one needs fixing, saving, or advising! They may need a sounding board. They may need to hear themselves talk something through. They might even ask for suggestions, but most often when given space and time, they are able to tap into their own guidance and wisdom and find the ideas and answers that suit them.
Challenging our assumptions and beliefs is a valuable and worthwhile exercise. When we think we know for certain, it is worth pausing and asking, “Am I sure that this is true?” Particularly when what we are thinking is that we are unwelcome, unworthy, undeserving, unacceptable, or un-anything…
When we show up and get out of our own way, beautiful things can happen!
Listen more than you talk. Give your attention… and speak when your heart compels you to (there’s usually something that someone needs to hear when we come from this place).

I’m reading a great book now called More Time to Think by Nancy Kline, and in it she clarifies “Listening to reply is (very) different than listening to ignite.” Oh yes! Listen… take in this being who’s sharing with you. Listen with your whole being. Listen without waiting to add your thoughts, and when you are inspired to respond (from that heart-centered place), do so in a way that inspires something within them!

From Cathy Dasson, yoga teacher and yoga therapist extraordinaire (who offered this beautiful yoga nidra a few weeks ago): “Do what you need. Nothing more. Effortless effort. You’re amazing when you soften!”
And, declare out loud and preferable with joyful dance, I AM HERE! (Thank you, Pink, for this amazing song! We had a lot of fun letting ourselves break free with it this weekend!).
Let delight enter your days! Embrace who you were born to be while you let go of the ideas of who you’ve imagined yourself to be, and claim the life you are here to live!
Legacy can be thought of as simply asking how you want people to feel for having known you or been in your presence. What do you hope they will say about you when you’re gone? What core qualities do you want to spread? These can be your North Star that guides everything you do, from work to friendships to family relationships. These qualities are the magic recipe that make up you! They are irreplicable for there is only one you walking this earth at this time.

So, that’s a bit of what I’ve learned this past week! You most certainly don’t need my permission, but I’m going to offer it anyway in hopes that it will encourage you to find your own “permission granted” statements. Permission granted to let others help you carry your burden or struggle. Permission granted to ask for and receive support (I promise you it gets easier as you do it more often, even if it’s wickedly uncomfortable at first! It sure was for me!!). Permission granted to acknowledge your needs, your longings, your desires, wishes, and hopes, and to ask for what YOU need! Permission granted to be you!!

What resonates with you? What would you question, disagree with or push back on?

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Meditation and Mindfulness - Life-Saving Practices

11/30/2021

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Recently I was invited to present a session on the myths and truths of Mindfulness and Meditation for a program for moms of teens, The Dream Teen Summit (check it out and register with my affiliate link here!). As I prepared, it struck me how profoundly mindfulness and the practice of meditation have supported me for many years.

I got wondering about what these terms, which are often used interchangeably, really mean. What they are, what they aren't, why they're important,… not just for moms of teens or teens themselves, but how they can enhance anyone's life.

For starters, these practices have enriched my life in many, many ways. They have also supported me through the hardest years of my life which began 12 years ago when we were first faced with my son's substance use disorder. The years since then have been marked by deep uncertainty, intense fear, anger, grief, pain, and continual chaos. These practices have helped me to find my center, some sense of grounding, accept the life that is here, work toward cultivating a heart that can hold it all, and they continue to support me to be with uncertainty (which is what we are all discovering life is).

Meditation and mindfulness both invite us into the present moment – they ask us to be with things as they are, to face this reality and ride the waves. Through the practice of meditation, our awareness increases – we gain insights, new understandings and we can detect patterns in ourselves. Our heart opens and we begin to feel everything more. You can't force it. You practice and discover for yourself.

What are Meditation and Mindfulness?

Meditation and mindfulness are interrelated, but they are not the same thing.

Mindfulness is a QUALITY, a way of being, and it can be practiced formally or informally.

Jon Kabat-Zinn, the founder of MBSR (mindfulness-based stress reduction), defines mindfulness as “the awareness that arises through paying attention, on purpose, in the present moment, non-judgmentally.”

Let's break that down into its 4 components:
1. Paying attention on purpose (choosing where you are placing your attention)
2. Being in the present moment (right here, right now!)
3. Coming from a place of non-judgment (oof! That's a tricky one! This asks us to witness what's here, without labeling it as "good" or "bad" which we all do all the time!)
4. Showing up with gentleness and compassion and curiosity (he didn't say that but I've found this to be key)

So, mindfulness is presence with awareness. If we contrast that with mindlessness, it becomes a little more clear. Think of driving somewhere and having no idea how you got there; talking with someone but you weren't really hearing what they said. When we are mindless, our mind is somewhere else – perhaps caught up in future planning, past fretting, or worrying. When we are mindful we are fully in the present - our mind and body are in the same room at the same time!

Meditation, on the other hand, is a PRACTICE that has been around for thousands of years . It is one path to mindful living.

Meditation is the practice of taking your attention off of your thoughts (which are always commenting, judging, assessing) and placing it on something else (like a sound, a sensation, a mantra or word, or simply on the feelin of breath moving in and out of your body). As I have learned and experienced in my Shamata Vipashyana practice, we will be distracted. Our mind will think thoughts. Our ears will hear sounds. Our eyes will see things. None of this is a problem. We learn to simply return again and again (which is how this becomes a beautifully transferable skill to everyday life).

Breaking Down Some Common Myths about Meditation and Mindfulness:
1. Meditation and mindfulness are not religious – they can work with or complement any faith or spiritual practice.

2. Meditation is not complex or only for certain people. It can be done by anyone anywhere and doesn’t require fancy equipment, the right music, candle, clothes, or location. While it's nice to get away to meditate at times, this isn’t about becoming a monk in a cave on a mountaintop somewhere!

3. You do not have to stop thinking or "quiet your mind." You work with the mind as it is, which will be different from practice to practice and day to day. The mind exists to make thoughts just as the eyes see and the ears hear – it's not reasonable to expect that to stop just because you decided to meditate. And, it's not a problem. You simply notice the thoughts, let them go and return to the breath (or whatever your anchor is) and begin again! Sweet!! You can begin again as many times as you need to! Each time you notice your thoughts have carried you away is a moment of awareness, of awakening. Excellent!

4. You do not have to think peaceful happy thoughts or be in a state of bliss – we work with what’s here and that is not always bliss!

5. Meditation will not necessarily make you more peaceful or make you feel better. It might, but what I have found is that it helps you to “feel better" and that means all the feels! A practice of peaceful abiding does not mean you will always feel peaceful, though you will find a way to be with things as they are and have the courage to ride the waves of this life. Deep down there is peace in that. Meditation is about acceptance and not being at war with reality.

6. Meditation is not hard or fancy – it’s actually very simple, very ordinary, (sometimes it will even feel very boring). Yet I have found it to be very potent in its simplicity.  Body has to be here – it is! Have to breathe – you are. Need to be present – you are!

7. The purpose of meditation is not to be good at meditation – it’s to be good at life! To be able to be and work with what is… through meditation, as my teacher, Susan Piver, said, "You actually get to be IN your life...not in your thoughts ABOUT your life!"

Why are Meditation and Mindfulness Important?

As I have mentioned, these practices have really enriched my life - deepening my connection to inner wisdom and guidance, opening my mind to fresh ideas, perspectives, and possibilities. They have also supported me through really hard times.

These practices:

Help you to be more mindful, more aware, more present to the reality that is here. They support you, ground you, and nourish you as you face this reality and ride the waves. (Pandemic, anyone?)
Increase self-awareness and help you to discover the nature of your mind.
Allow us to separate from our thoughts – we learn that they don’t have to carry us away with them and they're not always true. Therefore, we may give our stories less weight.
May change the way you are in the world - over time the way you think, talk, and interact with others may shift radically from your old norm.
May change who you are. I have found that they have lead me to be more compassionate, more open-hearted, more confident, more grounded. They provide a path to claiming the power to be who you really are.
Soften you toward yourself and others. All of this is grounded in gentleness which deepens compassion, self-compassion, and strengthens relationships.
May lead you to feel more, cry more, and to feel more deeply connected to others and to all beings.
Support you to actually be IN your life, not in your thoughts about life.
Open you to be more responsive and less reactive. When you can pause and respond in a mindful way, you are to choose and work toward change based on where you are right now. You meet yourself and one another in a way that is honoring of where each of you are.
Can interrupt our “spin cycles” – the thoughts that we each have constantly running, (catastrophizing, worrying). Mindfulness and meditation can interrupt these patterns, rewire the brain, and create new neural pathways! How amazing is that!?
Support us to become less judgmental and more accepting. We adapt to the truth that “it’s just like this right now” and we remember that whatever "it" is, it’s impermanent. We show up to life and ourselves with more curiosity, kindness, compassion

How to Integrate Meditation and Mindfulness into Daily Life:

Begin by becoming aware of your thoughts and stories, and get curious. Are they serving me? If not, choose to pay attention to something else – be deliberate with where you are placing your attention. Also be deliberate in what you are allowing into your mind and being.
Reflect on gratitude – begin noticing what you appreciate, things and people you might otherwise take for granted. Beginning or ending your day thinking about what you're grateful for can radically shift your experience of life. Begin to ask yourself , "What’s going right?" to help break free from our very natural tendency to focus on what's going wrong.
PAUSE – simply allow yourself a few breaths or moments to stop before responding to a demand or request or before rushing into what's next. Take just a little time to give yourself a little space throughout your day and notice how things shift.
Sit with your breath, feeling it moving in and out, even if you only have 1 minute. This is meditation. Consistency is more important than duration. It's better to build a practice of one minute/day than to sit once a week for 60 minutes.
Choose to begin your day intentionally - rather than reaching for your phone, take a moment to stretch, reflect on your gratitude, pray or meditate, drink some water, choose a quality to support you in your day. It can make all the difference in how you move through the following hours and interactions.
Explore different types of meditation – see what works for or resonates with you. Give yourself permission to find what is doable in the reality of your life (What you have time for? What feels nourishing and supportive?). Allow it to support you rather than be one more thing to do!
To practice mindfulness informally, engage in everyday activities with the intention of being mindful. This involves slowing down, paying attention, suspending judgment, and fully engaging in whatever experience is happening in the present moment. Put away devices of distraction - look around, use all of your senses to take in this moment; sit with another person and really listen to them; stare up at the stars; breathe in the fresh air. Opportunities for mindful presence are everywhere!

The practice of meditation (in which we forget, remember, come back, & begin again) is a practice we can bring into everyday life.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on meditation and mindfulness! What questions do you have? What have been your experiences with them in your own life? Please share in the comments below!

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Gratitude... a Practice that has Changed My Life

11/24/2021

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Gratitude! It’s all the rage this Thanksgiving week and you will likely be flooded with messages about it. But, here’s the thing. I have been practicing gratitude for at least 10 years now… so much so that it’s become part of who I am. Sometimes it’s a more formal practice of reflecting and writing out or typing up what I’m grateful for. Other times it’s simply an intentional reflection upon waking or before going to bed (try it – it can change your whole day or sleep!). And, at other times, I just notice it throughout the day – if I’m moving slowly enough to notice, there is so much that catches my attention and fills me with appreciation. Beautiful things, hard things I’ve faced and maybe worked through (at least a little), relationships that are easy, relationships that have been hard-won, things I could easily take for granted like the furnace running or the windows that allow in the beauty but keep the cold and critters out.

Opportunities for gratitude are everywhere. Sometimes I truly am grateful for the tears or for giving myself the time to hide away when I’m feeling sad, lost, confused, or afraid. It’s not all about sunshine and rainbows. And it’s definitely not about jumping over the hard stuff! I do not want gratitude to be seen as a spiritual bypass – something that we go to even when we’re not feeling that way. I don’t want anyone to squash themselves or to settle for less because they “know they should be grateful for what they have.”

Gratitude doesn’t say, “Stop longing. Stop desiring. Stop listening to your heart that is crying out for deeper connection or more meaning!” It should not stop you from leaving the job that is sucking the life out of you just because you “should be grateful” that you even have a job… especially a good-paying job with benefits. Please don’t weaponize gratitude in a way that keeps you stuck.

Allow it to be a practice that fills you up and expands your view of life. Let it change your experience of life as you regularly begin to notice what IS here that you do so deeply appreciate. Let it pour out of you as you openly express to others what you appreciate about them, even when it feels awkward at first because who does that!?

When we allow our attention to shift from its very natural, very human position of looking for what’s wrong or what could go wrong, to intentionally finding things to be grateful for, looking for what is “right” or “good,” we can literally change our brains. We can also improve our physical and mental health. We may find more joy, more flow, and less misery and angst.

When I tell you that I’ve been able to find gratitude even in my darkest hours, even when I’ve been afraid my son would die, even when I’ve been awake all night with worry or anger after a particularly contentious interaction, I’m telling you the truth. The key is I’ve also allowed myself to feel the fear, worry, anger, exhaustion. It’s not an either-or kind of life we live. We can feel it all. And somehow the gratitude helps us to see the bigger picture of life beyond the narrow focus that despair and crisis can create.

Gratitude is a life-changer - a genuine one. Not a life hack! I invite you to bring it into your daily life, not just on special holidays when the world tells you you should. I encourage you to extend your gratitude beyond the obvious (though it’s a great place to begin with those people who are closest to you, who you love and adore, who lift you up)… extend your gratitude to the people who’ve done the work to ensure that you’re even reading this message – perhaps the eye doctor who prescribed your glasses, the person who installed your internet, those who design and create the technology that allows us to be connected across the miles. Bring in gratitude for the farmers who planted the seeds and the workers who harvested the produce for the next meal you enjoy. Give thanks for the beauty of the birds and their music that fills the air. Find gratitude for the miracle that the sun continues to rise each day. Soak in the miracle of fresh air and fresh water and reflect on those who stand up and do the work to ensure that we continue to have these things.

Take a moment right now. What are you grateful for in this moment? Who do you want to share that with? Who would you like to send a quick note or text of appreciation? I invite you to join me in creating a wave of gratitude that continues beyond this week and that spreads far and wide. Pay attention to how that changes your life and the lives of those around you.

I am so grateful for you here in this community. Thank you for being you, and thank you for being here!

Here are a couple of meditations to support you in this practice: Invitation to Gratitude, Deeply Grateful, and Bathing in Gratitude Please enjoy and fill up with these offerings.

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Sometimes, More is More...

11/11/2021

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After last week’s share about how “Less is More,” I got thinking (as I tend to do), and considering that less is not always more. For instance, after 3 nights of pretty rotten (and not nearly enough) sleep in the energy and noise that is New York City, having a solid night’s sleep in the peace and quiet of this neighborhood I live in reminded me just how delicious a long, uninterrupted sleep is and how much it benefits my whole being!

The “more is more” reflection from my morning journaling:
What is it that I want more of in my life? What do I want to cultivate more of? More peace, more love, more sleep, more deep connection, more fun and laughter! More ease, more presences, more space and breathing room… more time for writing and the things that truly matter.

More compassion and gentleness – less judgment and harshness – for myself and others. More curiosity, less needing to be right or even to know. More wonder, more play. More friendships that inspire and are mutually supportive. More ease (I know I said that already – I see a theme!), less work and worry. More time for contemplation and reflection – more deepening and listening to my own guidance and wisdom.

More time to play and prepare food that is more nourishing to my body, mind, heart, and soul. More love – did I say that already? More openness to possibility with less need to meet anyone else’s standards, to achieve, to prove, or even to do. More being… here, feeling into this moment, appreciating what’s here, looking around and seeing the beauty, breathing in nature’s amazing breathtaking glory.

More fresh air – less TV. More quiet – less noise. More trust, less fear, which means paying attention to whose voices and what influences I allow into my being. More joy. More permission – to be me, to follow my desires, to take time for the things that just plain feel good. Just because.

More deeply felt gratitude. More embodying and living into the things I know intellectually – taking it beyond surface recitation and bringing it into my way of being, of living. Filling up in ways that are truly fulfilling, nourishing, and supportive. More alone time to know what those are. More discernment before I say yes or no.

More heart, less head-guided movement. More slowing down and less rushing to cram in more. More acceptance of my physical, emotional, and very human limitations. More acceptance in general – of the way things are, of other people and their paths and views. But also more intolerance of the places that need it – intolerance where things desperately need to change. More acceptance of the very imperfection of being a human. More acceptance of what’s within my control and concern. More allowing others to create and follow their own paths.

More talking, less scrolling. More cards and letters, fewer texts.

More rest, less busyness.

More – finding more in subtle strength which leads to less need to shout or fight or prove anything. More authentic presence and flow – less pretending and hiding.

More having my breath taken away at the soaring of a bald eagle overhead (that’s twice this week!) More looking around so as not to miss these moments!

And, from after I got out into the world a little bit…
More integrity, less trying to scam people on Facebook Marketplace so that you can steal their phone number for some sort of up-to-no-goodness. (If that seems very specific, unfortunately, it is).

More pulling over and letting people pass when you can’t get up to speed and more letting people in when there’s a lane closure…

More general kindness, decency, respect, and humanity. Less judgment and meanness. Please.

More forgiveness and acceptance when someone’s running late.

More regular cleaning and clearing out so it’s not such a big job when I finally get around to it!

More energy and the things that support that! More pausing, more support, and more ease.

I’m filled up just from taking the time to reflect and from making this list and feeling it permeate my soul. Sometimes more is more, for sure. I’m breathing that in in this space of deep quiet and expansive possibility.

Your Invitation:
Go ahead, play with it! See what comes up for you when you think about “more is more.” What do you want to cultivate more of? And when you have more of___________, what do you have less of? Or more of? Please share with us in the comments what comes up for you! I can’t wait to hear!!

And, Your Gift:
This week, one of my very favorite people in the world and yoga teacher/yoga therapist extraordinaire, Cathy Dasson, from Moving with Presence, is offering us a beautiful Yoga Nidra Relaxation meditation. We can certainly all benefit from more relaxation!! Please give yourself this time. Please give yourself this gift. Your nervous system will thank you (and so will your future self!).

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Less is More

11/9/2021

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Photo Credit Renee Veniskey

Less is more... I know it's true and I feel the relief when I can actually let this idea guide me. And yet, I'm finding that after decades of efforting (and probably over-efforting many, many times), even when I don't think I'm doing or thinking or trying too much, I am. It really takes a lot for me to let down, to do less, to try less hard…

How have I been reminded? My body is showing me. It's coming through in chronic holding patterns in certain muscles that clench and grip all the time, even when they don't need to. It's coming through in tiredness from days that are booked too fully or that I simply fill with too many things and too many hours. It's coming through in carrying an excessive number of books and notebooks with me for short trips, thinking I'll get to way more than I do (and more than I even want to). It's reflected in mental fatigue when I think I can do too many things, accomplish too many tasks, finish too many projects in too little time! It lives in unrealistic expectations imposed upon myself that I would NEVER hold for another human being.

How might this idea that “less is more” be supportive and nourishing if it could truly be embodied and brought to life?

Well, for one, it would open up more space and time on the calendar, allowing for more breathing room, less stress, and more time to pause and relax.
It would come through in a body that feels less tight, less over-worked, less over-stressed, more rested, more open, more expansive.
It would be reflected in less clutter and more open space, fewer clothes overflowing closets and drawers, fewer books taking up every inch of shelf space and beyond (which would also lead to more breathing room and spaciousness).
Overall there would be a sense of trying less hard - less tension and effort in yoga and Tai Chi, and even in meditation. There would be a remembering there's no need or way to be perfect (especially with something that's new!).
It would come through in a more relaxed way of being in the world… letting go of any need to impress anyone or prove anything. Letting go of being the doer-of-all-things and the taker-carer-of-all-people.
There would be a sense of sweet simplicity, taking things one moment at a time - not multi-tasking, double-booking, or over-committing. This is a great time to year to be conscious about that!
There would be fewer programs paid for and never completed or feeling woefully behind in - pausing and discerning before following “bright shiny objects” everywhere would keep you cued in to what is really doable and what would truly be beneficial at this time in your life, given your current reality.
You'd find yourself not packing things too full - programs, PowerPoints, retreats, vacations, days… life!
Life would move at a sustainable pace and in a sustainable way. You could lower the bar on yourself - lessen unreasonable expectations.
You'd experience more lightness, ease, and joy, I believe! As there is less stress, angst, anxiety and worry, there's room for more openness, acceptance, wonder, and support.

What does it require?

Mindful awareness
Discernment
A willingness to resist temptation, the ability to say “no” and to be realistic
Pause (that pause… it's always so, so valuable)
Honesty, particularly with yourself
Gentleness and self-compassion

Of course, I offer all of this hypothetically speaking! I have only a vague idea what it really means to live from a “less is more” place, but I can certainly imagine the possibilities! I am willing to try it out more often!

Your invitation…
Take a few minutes to consider if “less is more” is something you'd like to experiment with in your life. Would it benefit you in any way? How and where might you begin to play with this idea, lightly, gently, and kindly? (no harsh taskmaster in a “less is more” world!).

Is there anything you need to give yourself permission for? A promise you want to make to yourself?

Play with these prompts, if you like:
I'd like less___________and more ___________
I will create less ________ and make room for more ______________
If less is more, what's possible?
Where would I like to begin?

This week's meditation, “Less is More," invites you to apply it to your practice - trying less hard, expecting less of yourself and of your practice.

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Alive in This Moment

11/1/2021

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Begin with Intention:
I begin each day by naming my intention - the quality I want to embody or have support me throughout the day. Frequently it's “love, ” “openness,” or “presence” and recently I am simply claiming “live.” This day… I just want to live it - not “seize it” but be present for it. I don't need to make myself get up at 4 AM in order to have self-care time or to “get the most out of this day.” And, I don't want to miss it, waiting for the things I'm excited about or the things I fear.

I want to notice the sweet moments and not take things for granted. So much I take for granted. I want to put down the distractions and be present when my son calls or I'm talking with my husband. Even in moments with myself, let go of multi-tasking so that I can be present. To be here now - to feel what it's like to be me in this moment. I also want to intentionally build my life around the things that matter most.

I want to say “yes!” to the walk with my loved ones rather than listen to another pre-recorded program that I'm already behind in. That can wait. This opportunity is here now, and it truly is a once in a lifetime moment. Each moment is. None of us has ever been in this moment before. Your body has never felt exactly as it does right now, even though you're making familiar motions, scrolling through your device as you have a million times before.

I also don't want to dwell unnecessarily on things from the past - regrets, hurts, misunderstandings, mis-steps that I could easily ruminate on endlessly. Nor do I want to be consumed by fears of what lies ahead - how things might go wrong, what awful things could happen, what I will do when my loved one dies. Because, truly, I have no idea what I will do or when that moment will come. I can trust I will show up to it then and remember that it is not happening now. Our minds are so quick to drag us into the past or shoot us into the future. It takes presence and awareness to keep coming back to this moment.

All I know for sure is what's here today - this plain ordinary grey chilly day. I am appreciating sleeping in supported by the extra darkness - the coziness of our bed, the heat that warms our home against today's chill. There is so much I take for granted in these simple ordinary days. I don't need to pressure myself to “savor them." No. I simply need to experience what's right here - this fuzzy pink robe, this soft cuddly warm purple blanket - feel myself embraced in their warmth. The next moment will come - I'm sure of that.

I don't want to look for everything that's wrong - the piles of mail and books on the counter, the dust building up on the dresser, the kale wilting in the produce drawer. It's too easy to get caught up in what I haven't done, what I should do, how I suck at housekeeping, or how my extra pandemic weight has lead me to buy a new pair of jeans in a size I've never had before.

I don't want a full life (at least not an overly full one) or a busy life - I hate how we've glorified being busy! We have a good life. Even with an unknown future ahead of us. We have a good life. We live in a cozy home in a beautiful place. I don't want to miss it. My health is good despite the daily aches and the extra bulges that I clearly don't care enough about to change.

I want to do things that don't make sense simply because they bring me joy. I want to be generous and spread love and compassion and give gifts when I can simply because I can. I want to live in a way that is nourishing to my soul - to prioritize those things that fill me up from the inside out.

Ordinary Days:
Recently I shared a passage from Jeff Foster's book The Way of Rest with my Soul Care group entitled “These Are the Days” which looked at the miraculous in ordinary moments. We ended by responding to the prompt, “If I were given just one more day, let me…”

It was profoundly insightful to each of us in considering how we want to live this day - because maybe this IS the one. Who knows? It's here now. Therefore, it matters. It is calling to be lived - not for me to have goals or to be productive or even to make a difference. Simply to be embraced and lived. And, I'm pretty sure my odds are better at making a difference, at being productive, if I show up to it with an open heart, present to myself and others.

We miss out on so much in the “between” moments - the ones that don't necessary feel special. We miss them because we are waiting for the grand ones or the awful ones. I want to breathe in this one. That softens and opens me… Will you join me? How do you want to live this day?

Your invitation…
Take a few minutes to ponder, meditate on, or free write into the prompt, “If I were given just one more day, let me…” If you choose to write, keep your hand moving across the page or keyboard for however many minutes you choose. If you get stuck, write the prompt again or “I don't know…” until you get flowing again. This process will allow you to get beneath the first thoughts and into deeper truths.

What rises up for you as most important?
How might you apply this to the rest of your life?
Why do these permissions or desires only feel possible if it were your last day?
What changes might you make in order to be more present with your aliveness in these ordinary moments?
How can you structure your days around the things that matter most?

Resources for you
This week's guided meditation is “Alive in This Moment.” Give yourself the gift of a few minutes to sit with yourself as you are for this practice. May it nourish and support you.

Please visit my Resource Page! Here you will find so much goodness to support you throughout your days - ordinary ones, wonderful ones, and harder ones.

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Mindful Self-Compassion - A Practice Worth Practicing

10/19/2021

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Mindful self-compassion may be one of the most important practices we can bring into our lives. Thankfully, for some reason self-compassion has been rising up repeatedly lately. I can be as harsh and judgmental with myself as anyone and can find myself wallowing in stories, stuck in “what I've done wrong,” “what I could have done differently,” or what I'm embarrassed or ashamed by. So I have been grateful to reconnect with the teachings of self-compassion which I first learned years ago in a workshop with Kristin Neff and Chris Germer, pioneers in the field. As I learned from them, there are three elements that make up self-compassion.

3 Elements of Mindful Self-Compassion:
1. Self-kindness - rather than ignoring our pain or beating ourselves up, we offer gentleness and the same tender loving care we would offer someone we love. We recognize that we are imperfect beings and allow for mistakes, failings, and flaws. We lovingly acknowledge the pain and suffering; rather than pushing it away or making it wrong, we offer comfort and nurturing.

2. Mindfulness - a way of being that allows us to be with our thoughts, feelings, and experiences without exaggerating or diminishing them, and without over-reacting or over-identifying with them. We maintain a little more objectivity as we become observers of this present moment. From a mindful place we are better able to respond rather than spin out in reactivity. We remember that we are not our feelings, we are not our actions, and we are most definitely not our stories. From this place we can see and be with what's here.

3. Common Humanity - We remember that all humans suffer and that others have felt the same way that we are feeling in a moment of pain. This alleviates the otherwise strong sense of isolation that says “I am the only one who's ever felt this way…” We remember the inherent messiness of life and of being human and we may feel a little less alone. Suffering is part of our shared human experience.

I've enjoyed several podcasts with Kristin Neff in the past couple of weeks (one that I liked for its simplicity was with Dan Harris on Ten Percent Happier). Through these talks I have been reminded that self-compassion is called for when there is suffering - it is a means to alleviate suffering. Not by letting ourselves off the hook or by excusing things we've done, but rather by acknowledging our humanity, which is messy and imperfect, and by offering compassion to that part of us that is hurting. We acknowledge the pain and suffering - we don't push it away. We see what has happened for what it is, without minimizing or exaggerating it.

Who Benefits from Self-Compassion?
Everyone benefits from self-compassion...those who practice it and those who are around them because it truly carries a positive ripple with it.

People who are especially sensitive, who feel deeply, care deeply, love with all their hearts, and walk around with an open heart, giving perhaps more than they have to give can especially benefit from these practices. Caregivers, helpers, nurturers, perfectionists. These are the people who carry the weight of the world, who feel responsible for everyone and everything, and who often forget to put their own care at the forefront. They could really use a good dose of self-compassion.

Why Practice Mindful Self-Compassion?
This isn't some life hack or a box to check - this is a deep practice to bring more compassion and healing to yourself, and therefore to those you love and to the world. The ripple potential is great. This is a genuine act of self-care, self-love, self-kindness which supports us in being more caring, loving, and kind in general.

What's interesting is that the more we practice self-compassion, the more we take responsibility for our actions. The more we are able to apologize. The more likely we are to forgive ourselves. We get unstuck because we have met ourselves with an open heart, letting go of the unfair and unrealistic expectation of perfection. We don't need to armor up to protect ourselves or lash out in defense. When we offer self-compassion we actually become more compassionate with others.

When do we need self-compassion?
Every day! Every time we feel a regret or we are hurting, self-compassion is available to us. Whether you've spilled soup on your favorite jacket (or person), forgotten a friend's birthday, missed a deadline, or did something to hurt someone else. When someone has hurt you. When you've received a scary diagnosis or you're terrified for someone you love. When a loved one has died or you're afraid they will. When you feel guilty or ashamed, when you wish you had known better or handled that interaction differently, it's time to gently acknowledge your human-ness and bring in some tender loving care. The medicine for all the woulda, coulda, shoulda's is mindful self-compassion.

As you can see the entry points of pain sit on a spectrum from what might feel mundane to what is clearly very severe. This isn't about comparing your pain to anyone else's (if you do, bring in some self-compassion). Your pain is yours regardless of how severe it is. If it hurts, tend to it. If it hurts a lot, tend to it a lot, and compassionately get some support.

How do we practice mindful self-compassion?
As in practicing self-care, begin by pausing and tuning in. Acknowledge what you are feeling, perhaps as you offer yourself a compassionate touch or gesture. Placing a hand on your heart, giving yourself a gentle hug, holding your own hand, or stroking your arm are all forms of compassionate touch - which one feels soothing and natural to you?

Say silently to yourself, "This is a moment of pain or suffering" (find the word that resonates and feels true in this moment). I feel _______ (angry, sad, scared, disappointed, hurt...)" whatever it is, name it. Here is where you become the observer or witness to your experience. You are with it, but it doesn't define or consume you. You are the person feeling the pain. You are not the pain or emotion.

Sit with yourself and allow yourself to feel it. Breathe as you do. Where do you feel it in your body? Often you might notice a sensation in your heart, gut, throat, shoulders, or jaw. Where do you feel it in your body in this moment?

Ask what this part of you needs to feel loved, comforted, nurtured. Offer that loving, nurturing, comforting care to yourself in the form of thoughts or touch. Remember the element of common humanity. You are not alone in your suffering. We all suffer - this is part of being human.

The practice of RAIN (Recognize, Allow, Investigate, and Nurture) is one that might support you in these moments. Tara Brach has many guided meditations, talks, and articles about RAIN if you would like to deepen your understanding and practice.

Where can you practice mindful self-compassion?
Really, anywhere, any time. This doesn't need to be a long, drawn-out, complicated practice. It can happen quickly, with a pause of a few breaths. It can happen in a meeting, in a crowded airport, in the middle of a conversation. It can happen with other people around or you might choose to make it a more extended practice when you have more time to be alone. Perhaps you take yourself to a special place in nature and allow the trees, rocks, water, and fresh air to support you. Or maybe you have a special room that feels soothing - go there and allow yourself all the time you need.

Your invitation…
How and where can you bring in a little more gentleness with yourself? Offer yourself self-compassion and grace? Remember your humanity? What might it be like to be less judgmental, less reactive, and to feel less alone in your moments of pain? What would it be like to stop beating yourself up and to trust that you've done the best you can?

What benefits do you imagine or know arise out of practicing self-compassion?

You do not have to go it alone or only practice self-compassion. It is a great act of care and compassion to seek support... from friends, family, coaches, support groups, doctors, or counselors. Please reach out for help when what you're facing is too much to face alone. Not sure where to begin reaching out? Maybe one of the resources here will be a good starting point.

What might the world be like if we each treated ourselves a little more kindly? I'd love to find out!

Resources for you
Kristin Neff's self-compassion website has a ton of resources, guided practices, and a self-assessment you can take if you'd like to get a sense of your current state of self-compassion.

This week's guided meditation is “Practicing with Self-Compassion.” Give yourself the gift of a few minutes to sit with yourself as you are for this practice. May it nourish and support you.

Also, on my Resources Page, you can find many free supports, including many for self-compassion, mindfulness, grief, and substance use disorder.

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