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Slow it All Down... Even when Times are Urgent

3/14/2025

2 Comments

 
“The times are urgent.  Let us slow down.” – Báyò Akómoláfé 

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“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and freedom.” —Viktor Frankl
PictureImage by kewl from Pixabay
In these urgent times, what if the most essential thing we can do is slow it all down?  Claim the space that Frankl speaks of – the space where power to choose lies.  Taking The Pause is the basis for everything else – for tending well to yourself, building relationships, acting mindfully, and creating the life and world you want to live in.  Pausing, slowing down, is incredibly powerful, but not easy.  Slowing things down requires you to break the pattern of reactivity which may have led to trouble in the past.  Pausing helps you establish new patterns and attunes you to your wisdom, your values, while giving access to deeper clarity and insight.  Without slowing down, it’s easy to get caught up in our stories, feelings, and fears.  So easy!  I do it on a regular basis. 

Slowing down grounds us in this moment.  We can face what’s here and come to grips with this moment’s reality: “Here we are…” - a moment of reckoning that might be missed if you’re hellbent on getting to the next thing or swept up in an emotional tidal wave.  Too often, noticing here we are is followed in a nano-second by, “so what do we do now?”  The mind desperately wants to seize control of the situation, to fix things, to solve a problem.  Sometimes that’s warranted and appropriate and other times we need time – to feel, to settle, to open our heart and mind.  The Pause gives you space for all of that and allows insights and ideas to emerge. 

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“Do you have the patience to wait
Till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
Till the right action arises by itself?”

― Lao tzu
When the world’s on fire or you have a child who’s struggling, the suggestion to wait, to remain unmoving can feel laughable, impossible, irresponsible.  Your whole being screams “There is no time to wait!  This is a crisis!” 

And yet, there is very little that doesn’t benefit from slowing down and taking a pause, be it for three breaths, three hours, or thirty days.  Unless there is fire raging or blood gushing in front of you now (which I doubt there is or you wouldn’t be reading these words), you likely can grant yourself and the situation a little time and space.  

You can move more effectively after taking time to quiet down, re-set, and feel what is here.  Stepping out of the fray allows you to question your thinking while you listen and receive wisdom, insight, guidance, and even a renewed energy to face what’s next.  The right action may arise when you’re not so constricted in fear, trying to force a decision.  

Without taking the pause, we find ourselves in reactive, fearful, conditioned, and habitual ways of behaving, and we may act prematurely without thinking things through.  If, instead, we allow the mind to settle, we will see more clearly, feel what’s ours to do when the time is right, and begin to get curious about what’s needed or wanted.  The fear, anger, and sadness don't necessarily go away, but the pause has given you time to check in with yourself and to find the wisdom in these feelings.  To get grounded.  To hear what’s true for you, rather than jump to comply or please others.  It’s one way to avoid over-extending yourself.  

Pausing is the essence of care, compassion, respect, and curiosity.  The pause broadens our lens to see the bigger picture – all that’s here, including whatever feels problematic, and also beauty and goodness.  Pause expands our thinking and opens up space for different ideas to emerge.  Pausing isn’t the same as strategizing or plotting how to control or overpower a situation, but rather a break to open up to possibilities that may currently be hidden from view.  

So, what does it look like to slow down or pause?  
  • In the midst of traffic or in an argument, rather than overheating or exploding, the pause could be as simple as mindfully taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down rather than laying on the horn or yelling back
  • Upon hearing disturbing news for the umpteenth time in an hour, you might go for a walk and then come back to read the insights of someone you trust to help you decide what action, if any, you would like to take.  You begin to discern what’s yours to do, what you have the capacity for, as you accept the reality that none of us can save the whole world by ourselves.  
  • Slowing down may mean we talk something through with a trusted friend or counselor before making a move.  
  • In a time of overwhelm, exhaustion, or conflict, you might give yourself a loving timeout, not as a punishment, but as a gift to all.  Taking yourself to your room or out for a walk or drive as a chance to reset, re-ground, calm racing thoughts or heart so you don’t say or do something you’ll regret later 
  • In response to a relationship that’s wearing you down, you might choose to take a longer break and not engage for a number of days or weeks
  • A healthy pause could be mindfully deciding to take social media off your phone so that it’s not so easy to find yourself doom-scrolling in every empty moment

When I slow down I feel more open, more expansive, more inclusive.  My mind stops its incessant racing and fretting.  I breathe more steadily.  I find my ground, feeling the solidity of the earth holding me.  I see and hear things in my environment – I don’t rush over the bridge, missing the sea turtle lounging in the murky water.  I notice angels in the clouds.  I revel at the beauty, mystery, and magnificence of the everyday miracles of sunrise and sunset.  I breathe again.  And again.  And again.  Until I can feel the choices that are mine to make and discern which one is right for this moment.  I find the strength and inner guidance to choose rather than giving in to the shouting of others about what I have to do.  I feel my pain, anger, fear.  I cry the tears that have been held in too long.  And gradually, because everything is always shifting, my mood and my energy shift too and I am able to take my next step.  From here, I can show up to life more like the person I want to be. I catch myself the next time I've sped up and gotten caught in a reactivity loop, regroup, and begin again.   

When I don’t slow down people could get hurt – I whack my head on a doorknob because I was moving too quickly and not paying attention, or I bite someone’s head off because I'm overwhelmed.  I react rather than respond, and I’m much less likely to be the person I want to be.  I miss out on all that’s here, tightly focused on only what’s wrong or scary, even when I’m with people I love in a safe, comfortable environment.  My mind can carry me away and hold me hostage with it’s beliefs, thoughts, and opinions about what’s going on and what should be.  I amp myself up in a frenzied, reactive state.  I lose sleep.  I eat crap, seeking comfort from chips and ice cream.  It’s not good for me or anyone or anything when I’m swept up in chaotic energy.  

This message to slow down is one that Love gives me regularly (when I take the time to ask and record her response).  Here’s one of her messages from just the other day when I found myself rapidly spiraling: “Slow it down.  Bring it in.  What is within your reach?  What can you do that will help settle you?  Stay off social media today – all day.  Organize your piles.  Get outdoors and breathe fresh air.  Watch the ocean.  Listen to the birds.  Take the time you have to savor the time you have.  Stop trying to put out fires everywhere.  Breathe.  A lot.  Pause and breathe.  You need the oxygen.  Trust me – your brain will thank you.  Laugh.  Love fiercely.  Nothing can stop your ability to laugh and love.  Calm it down.  Bring it in, and love on yourself.  Fiercely love.”  (you can see more about my practice of interacting with Love and inviting in this wisdom in Love’s Wishes)  

Your thoughts?  
How does this land with you?  Helpful? Annoying?  Ridiculous?  
What works for you?  How do you slow things down? 
How and when would the mighty pause benefit you?
How can this idea help you be who you want to be and how you want to engage with life? 

Maybe we can’t save the world, but we can support our presence to be of benefit to it. 
Who do you want to be and how do you want to show up?  Good guiding questions in a life that feels out of control.  

And a song to speak to your heart... We don't Know We're Living 
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Living Well within the Mess

11/20/2024

0 Comments

 
PicturePhoto by Gantas Vaičiulėnas: https://www.pexels.com/photo/photo-of-person-standing-on-grass-field-during-golden-hour-3550518/
Never have I put more hours into a single post than this one.  Why?  Because I want to be thoughtful and respectful and not offer you any simplistic suggestions to an unbelievably complex reality.  Because I vacillate between wanting to tell you everything I’ve learned that might be helpful and feeling like I have nothing of value to say.  Because my grief is heavy right now. 

I could just walk away and stay silent, but somehow, I feel called to write, to offer something in this post-election time.  My hopes were strong for a different outcome and I’d enjoyed the relief of riding a wave of possibility for the past few months. The shock hit me hard and I’ve been mostly numb for the past 2 weeks.  I’ve felt the familiarity of living within unknown chaos and deep grief over the loss of hope and the loss of the future I had imagined. 

This is why I am choosing to write and share what I can.  I do know how to live in an ungrounded mess. It may not be the election that’s upset you, and this post is meant to address different painful and challenging situations. 

Let me begin by assuring you that I am not going to tell you to “get over it,” “put your big girl panties on,” “pull yourself up by your bootstraps,” “just focus on what’s good,” “just shake it off” or any other nonsense.

Be real with where you are right now.  Allow your feelings, thoughts, confusion… just honor where you are without needing to deny it, push past it, or get over it.  Don’t pretend to be any different than you are.  I honor that with you, witnessing how my own real-life experience changes day by day, and moment by moment, sometimes in unexpected and startling ways.  What I write is for you and also for me.  I write to remember and to discover what’s true and what’s possible. 
  
Along with honoring whatever is true in this moment, I’m also going to share what I’ve learned is possible, even in terribly devastating times.  I share to invite you to consider that it is possible to find a way back to yourself, back to some sense of ground, even in super ungrounded times.  It is possible to have moments of feeling a sense of aliveness, a tiny spark that calls you forward. 

I’ve lost myself in the past 2 weeks – meaning I’ve let forces outside of me and outside of my control drag me down and steal my energy, inspiration, and motivation.  I’ve found myself going through the motions, zombie-like, and I’ve let myself swim in the dark waters of fear and despair.  And that’s ok.  I don’t like it, but it’s ok, because it’s what is here. 

This feeling isn’t new for me.  I’ve lost myself many, many times over the years of my life – particularly in dark and heavy times of fear and struggle.  The disconnect can sneak in gradually over time or wallop me out of the blue, catching me off-guard and unprepared.  Maybe there’s no way to prepare for ground-shaking news. 

Maybe you’ve experienced this too – something shakes your world and suddenly you’re gone.  Swirling in the chaos and confusion, unable to find ground.  If you’re like me, you may alternate between looking outward - grasping for someone to give you the answer or show you the way – and diving inward, hiding away in a cocoon of isolation.  Despair may loom if things feel bleak and uncertain. 

Humans are conditioned to be alert for danger – it’s in our DNA.  We are programmed to survive, and so we constantly scan for what’s wrong, what’s scary, what feels dangerous.  The world feels chaotic and confusing right now, and there are many unknowns before us.  Our minds hate not knowing. 

And, of course, the unpopular truth is the future is always uncertain and unpromised.  We cannot know how things will go.  Sometimes we’re pleasantly surprised when our worries go unanswered.  Other times we’re crushed when the unthinkable happens. 

The mind constantly makes up stories of what is true and what is coming based on what it knows from past experience.  This is how the mind works.  It can only draw on what it knows.  It forgets that more is possible. In fear its focus is extremely narrow.  The mind carries us on a path paved with stories and beliefs.  The path may be helpful or it may add to our despair. 

I’m amazed at how different my waking thoughts can be from day to day.  On any given day, I may awaken with dread, neutrality, or joy, and it’s not always connected to what lies ahead or what happened before I went to sleep.

Several days ago I was extremely grateful to wake with a momentary glimpse into the connection between what has supported and sustained me for the past couple of decades and the outer chaos many of us are experiencing today.  That was the genesis of this blog.  Since then, I’ve cycled in and out of inspiration, energy, depletion, and apocalyptic fear. 

I do know calm and sanity begin within – they can’t be gifted to me by the outside world.  I don’t know how long it will take for me to find the ground that offers any level of calm or sanity, but I must find the ground before I can hope to be much good to anyone else.  Before I am ready to fight or advocate for better conditions, before I can hope to have any sort of positive impact or influence, I need space and time to think clearly. 

If I’m spinning in a spiral of doom, that Is not the place from which to create or engage.   That’s the time to hit pause, go within, tend to my tender heart and soul, and feel all the feels.  That’s the time to build awareness of what’s going on in me.  Only when I feel strong enough, do I want to step into action. 

Is this helping or hurting? 
I have to look honestly at my thoughts and actions to see if I’m contributing to my own misery.  If I am, what can I do differently? 

I need to remember that I get to choose who and what I let into my world.  Everything I take in and every interaction I have affects me, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually – this includes what I look at, what I listen to, what I read, and who I communicate with.  It also includes how much information or emotion I let in at any time.  An abundance of outer noise is eager to bombard us and keep us confused.  Unless I am able to pause and mindfully step back, I will miss the bigger picture of what’s going on.  I’ll have no idea how to best companion myself through a tumultuous time.

Extreme Tenderness and Exquisite Care
Another morning, I woke with the words “Extreme Tenderness and Exquisite Care” in my head.  I knew deep in my core that this is exactly what I and so many others need right now.  It’s not selfish to offer ourselves this time and space for loving care and compassion.  It’s actually an act of kindness for us and those around us. 

When we interrupt a destructive or frightening spin with a pause, rather than amplify it with our own thoughts and stories, we have a better chance for a more positive interaction. 

A Powerful Pause
We can allow the pause to support us in coming back to our values and ideals – who we truly are at the core, who we want to be with others, and how we want to show up in the world.  The pause takes us out of reactivity, away from feeling like a pinball being buffeted around recklessly by outside paddles, and offers us a chance to tap the stillness and wisdom within.  Pausing also allows us to stop adding fuel to a fire that’s already raging out of control.  My frenzy has never contributed anything meaningful, helpful, or productive to a situation, and it has often made things worse.  In a frenzy, we are not thinking clearly; frenzied thinking leads to frenzied action.   

Offering ourselves self-compassion, holding ourselves lovingly, acknowledging, “This sucks.  I’m scared.  I’m hurting right now.  This is a moment of suffering,” rather than soldiering on, pretending all is well, gives us a chance to feel heard and understood, if only by ourselves.  Listening to what we need and honoring that, rather than beating ourselves up with artificial “should’s” offers a reprieve from the pushing, driving, and striving that only wears us down. 

These small, not-so-simple acts allow us to take a stand for our own wellbeing and to choose who and what deserves our energy.  This isn’t about putting your head in the sand or being in denial, though if that’s what you need in the initial shock of something horrible, by all means, let that be ok.  It is part of grief, and it’s part of self-survival.  Traumatic events may require a healthy solitude when it all feels like too much. 

How to keep going?
Even in the darkest of times, there is a way to take back your life, to take back your power, to find a way to keep going.  I’ve found this while living through years of my son’s chaotic substance use.  I’ve found this after his death.  I’ve found this in moments in our world that shake all that we’ve known or believed.  I am grateful to remember what I forgot I knew in the malaise that has consumed me recently. 

When we feel powerless, we feel scared.  Maybe we feel hopeless.  One way to regain some power is to tune in to where you have choices.  Where can you find some agency? What can you do differently that will give you energy rather than deplete you? 

Find yourself in this moment – right here, right now as you sit here and read these words.  Feel the earth holding you – feel her strength and resilience.  Are you safe?  Are you comfortable?  Warm?  Fed?  Look around and take in your room.  Listen to the sounds around you and beyond in the outside world.  Smell the scents that fill this space.  Feel the clothes on your body, the temperature of the air on your skin.  Is there anything you taste in this moment?  If it’s helpful, say to yourself silently or aloud, “In this moment, I am here.  I am safe.”  Name what you notice through your senses to ground you here.  Feel your body breathing without needing to change a thing.  Connect with your own aliveness.  Here you are. 

Don’t look away from what’s unsettling, but don’t let it be everything. Ooooh, this is a tough one, but the truth is there is no one thing that defines you or your world, no matter how heavy, ominous, or bleak that thing feels.  As you let yourself be with everything that’s here in this time, you may find that beauty and wonder are always here too, right alongside the scary and oppressive.

Can you allow the hard to be there and still notice things that bring joy or comfort, even if they come in the tiniest moments?  The person who looks at you and smiles.  A dandelion popping up in the sidewalk even in the dark cold fall.  A warm hug without words that gives you a moment to surrender into the love of another.  A gorgeous sunrise or sunset that reminds you of nature’s steadiness and reliability.  The deer on the side of the road that doesn’t crash into your car or the song of the wren breaking through the grey.  Let it all be here.  Open your heart and your arms to include even these beautiful, wondrous things especially when you see no way out of the current darkness. 

Bringing to mind something or someone you appreciate – something that gives you comfort or joy not only offers a temporary reprieve from doom scrolling, but it reminds you that you can choose where you focus your attention and energy.  Feeling gratitude counters the tendency to look for all that’s wrong, and it helps reprogram our brain by remembering all that is part of this present moment.

Our hearts can hold it all even when our minds can’t.  When I was invited into a reflection of gratitude just a few days ago, I didn’t get much further than my husband who I am so glad to share life with and my soft fleece Snoopy blanket that offers me warmth and coziness and makes me smile. Of course, there is much more I am grateful for if I allow myself time to sit and reflect, to feel those things and how they affect me.  And it’s ok when it’s a struggle to connect with them.

What CAN you do even when times are hard and confusing? 
When there is much that you can’t do or much that’s out of your control, focus on what you can do.  You will notice the common themes of “in this moment” and “pause” as a reminder of how valuable it is to slow down and come into present moment awareness.  There are also some suggestions that may feel contradictory to others – that’s unavoidable as each of us checks in with what’s true for us and finds the balance that feels right and doable in this moment.  Here goes: 


❤️ Let yourself feel what you feel.  Angry?  Sad?  Scared?  Confused? Disappointed?  Or Joyful?  Feelings give you great information and need to be felt and allowed to move through.  Don’t deny them, even if others feel differently than you or if you think you should be over it by now. Cry.  Scream. Laugh.  Feelings deserve your attention. 
 
❤️Build inner reserves and resources, even in small moments and doses.  What can you do to nurture and nourish yourself, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually?  When you’re well-resourced, you will more likely have the strength and clear-headedness to face hard times.  
Get plenty of rest.  Let yourself chill out as needed.  Get some movement and eat pretty well              when you can.  Join supportive groups or communities to have real and honest discussions while        deepening your own understanding of this thing called life. 
 

❤️Know what you need to refuel and do that.  You don’t want to find your tank on empty in the middle of a storm.  Plan ahead so that you don’t get caught off guard by depletion.  Refueling is different for each of us.  Some people need to be with others, while others need silence, stillness, alone time, or time outdoors.  Some need to hug a tree, cuddle with a sweet pet, or curl up with a good book.  What is it for you? 

❤️Determine what is yours to do at this moment, if anything.  If there is something that you need to do or you feel called to do, do that.  From simple daily tasks to big community action, there are always things you could be doing.  Focus on what’s yours.  Let other things go – you can’t do it all, nor do you have to.  You can trust that others will be called to fill different needs.  And if what is yours to do is to take good care of you and your family, do that. 

❤️Assess your true capacity is in this moment.  You may feel pressured to do something.  Wanting to jump into action is a pretty natural inclination when things feel like they’re spinning out of control.  Do you have energy to give or is this a time to pull in and nurture and nourish yourself?  There will be challenges, requests, and demands coming your way.  Allow yourself to pause and assess before you respond.  Do I have it in me to do this thing in this moment?  Is it a yes, no, or not now? 

❤️Get in touch with what really matters to you and devote your energy there.  The vaster my dismay, the more I pull in and focus on what’s within my sphere.  One thing I know that matters to me is family and friends and in-real-life connections. Community and connections are critical to my heart these days. I am also choosing to decrease my time in the algorithm-controlled virtual reality of social media.  I am picking up the phone and calling people.  Even if I don’t reach them, I get to hear their voice and leave a message to let them know how much they mean to me.  I’m making time to connect with my people, while simultaneously being discerning about how much time and energy I have for peopling. 
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Another thing that matters to me is finding ways to offer compassion, kindness, and care at a time when this feels more needed than ever.  Kindness can be as simple as sharing a smile or holding a door.  You could send a sweet text or a handwritten card.  Make a big meal and share the leftovers with friends. 

What communities and causes do you care about and how can you support them?  For me, supporting people impacted by mental health is my call, and so I am grateful to be able to support families through the Invitation to Change and to contribute to the work of the CMC: Foundation for Change.   I will also be compiling the next round of CompassioNate Care Bags in the coming month.  It was last Thanksgiving morning that I got a clear hit that we needed to make 111 bags, and I put out the first big call to my community.  The response has been phenomenal and I am so grateful to all who have helped to create and deliver over 500 bags.  

You may not know how important a tiny act might be; never underestimate the impact of a little care, compassion, or kindness. What’s most important to you today, in this moment? 
 

❤️Get out of your head.  Allow yourself time to dump the many thoughts that are spinning in your mind.  Write them down, share them with a trusted person, or speak them to yourself – getting them out of your head can offer some relief and help create some distance between your thoughts and your life.  Another way to get out of your head is to create – paint, draw, dance, write a poem, sculpt some clay, or knit away.  

❤️Find ways to offer yourself loving kindness and compassion.  What might that look like? You could take time for a formal loving kindness meditation practice.  You might simply pause and put your hand on your heart as you take a breath or two.  You might give yourself an intentional timeout, stepping away to rest, reflect, journal, or just tune out for a while.  Letting yourself scream and cry if that’s what’s needed is a compassionate act.  Please love yourself well.  

❤️Reach out for help and support.  Don’t go through a hard time alone.  Find someone you feel safe with to sit with you, hold space for you, walk alongside you.  That could be a friend, counselor, community member, or helpline.  
I joined a friend for a meal the other day, and we were both struggling.  As we hugged and cried, these words rose up from my heart, “We don’t have to be ok.  We just have to be together.” This resonates as truth.  We don’t have to be ok.  We don’t have to pretend to be ok.  We just need to show up to this moment and then the next.  One breath at a time.  One thought at a time.  One moment at a time. Together.  
 
We don’t know what the future holds, but I am certain that each of us has an important role to play in the unfolding.  How are you doing? How’s your heart?  What helps you get through hard days?  Please share.  We need your wisdom and insight
.  

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Seeking Peace Even (Especially) in These Times?

10/17/2024

1 Comment

 
PictureImage by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay
If you’re finding yourself feeling anxious or agitated more often than you’d like and you’d love a little more peace in your life, hold on to hope.  No matter what’s going on around you, you can cultivate peace and even ripple it out to the world.  I’ve learned this over the past many years of my life, during the 14 years my son struggled with substance use and all the chaos that brought into our family, and even in the past year and a half since his passing.  In this post I’ll share some tried and true practices that continue to carry me through the hardest of times.  I hope you’ll find them supportive. 

Even when our political climate is blowing up with division and aggression.  Even when weather crises are coming fast and furious. Even when there's chaos in your family.  Even through all of that, moments of peace are available.  Not every moment, of course.  You’re human and human is messy.  Life is messy.  Things happen.  Reactions come, and the best thing we can do is be real with them and honest about them.  True peace doesn’t come by denying the truth of what’s here or trying to jump over sadness, anger, frustration, or fear to get to peace.  No.  None of that…

What can we do to generate some peace within when the world and its people are spinning in a frenzy around us?  Here are a dozen things that have worked for me (when I remember!).  It’s a practice.  Always.  Something to remember and come back to when we forget:


1. Pause – stop whatever you’re doing and whatever you’re thinking.  Take a breath or ten and step back from the intensity of the moment in order to regain your ground and to consider a fresh perspective.  It’s easy to get caught up and pulled into drama and become one more reactive person in the works, even if we really value peace.   So, give yourself a chance to intentionally interrupt the spin.  

How to do this? 
Just taking a moment to feel your feet on the ground and to you’re your breath can help. Or maybe give yourself a timeout in the most positive of ways – this isn’t a punishment, but truly best for everyone involved.  Send yourself to your room or to the woods for even 30 minutes.  If you’re at work or in a public space, lock yourself in a bathroom stall for a few minutes.    Pauses come in all shapes and sizes, and they’re almost never a bad idea. 
 

2. Curiosity – Notice when you’re feeling judgmental about something or someone and catch yourself in that moment.  It can be helpful to shift to a state of curiosity.  Say to yourself, “Isn’t that interesting?”  Or, “that person or that thought doesn’t resonate with me” instead of “I hate them!”  Suzanne Giesemann shared these ideas in a workshop I was in recently, and I was able to put them to use immediately as I came across people behaving badly.  When I took this approach, I found that I got less worked up and agitated.  I could silently send love to a situation and then move on with my day without needing to tell the story over and over or dwell on what an asshole that guy was.  

3. Listen – just listen, without jumping in with your own ideas or opinions.  This can settle a heated moment quickly and keeps you from making things worse.  Take that pause, take a breath, and really listen to what someone else is saying.  I tried this with a man I had just met who shared his opinions about a topic I’m passionate about, and though I didn’t agree with his thoughts on it, I could hear him.  In my doing so, he commented, “Given your response, I’m guessing you don’t agree?”  I simply said, “I don’t know.  Here are my thoughts, but I don’t have the answer, and I don’t want to argue.”  My not jumping in to talk over him or shove my ideas onto him opened up space for us both to think about the topic a little more and maybe even consider the validity of the other person’s thoughts.  
I am also aware that there are many times when I’m quick to speak even though my input hasn’t been requested.  Pausing and just listening helps build more peaceful interactions.
 
Listen to yourself too – listen to your body and heart for what they need in any moment.  Learning to pay attention and honor this internal wisdom is step one in creating a self-care plan that you will stick to.  The better you care for yourself the more peaceful you will feel.
 

4. Slow down.  Maybe this should have been first because it’s integral to the other three ideas I’ve shared so far.  Too often we rush – our meals, our rest, our conversations.  We’re a distracted and busy people.  When we take a little more time to be with ourselves, with each other, we reduce the frenzy.  

5. Notice what you’re taking in – you have to digest everything that you take in.  That’s true of food and drink, and also of things you’re listening to, watching, and reading.  Is what you’re taking in filling you up or draining you?  Does it inspire you and give you hope or send you to a place of despair?  You are the sacred gatekeeper for your energy, so get curious about what you’re letting in to your being and how it affects you.  Make changes accordingly, even if it’s only a slight reduction – say, checking headlines or scrolling social media 4 times/day instead of 400.  There’s an awful lot of input available these days and a lot of it is designed to stir you up, hook you in, or both.  Take good care of you.  

6. Who are you hanging around with?  Are they people who lift you up, inspire you, or make you laugh?  People you can be real with?  People you can cry with when you’re feeling sad?  Or are they people who exhaust you or suck the life out of you?  You might not have a choice all the time given your family or work environment.  If those places are very draining, please be sure to balance out your interactions with those that are nourishing, uplifting, and fulfilling.  Also be sure you’re getting enough “me time.”  You know… alone time with yourself… time to reflect, process, or just chill.  Such important recharge time!  

7. What energy are you spreading, perpetuating, or exacerbating?  Your presence makes a difference – to those around you and to yourself.  Pay attention to how you feel if you jump in on gossip or if you repeat a story or belief you’ve told many times already.  That spin of agony – “It shouldn’t be this way!  How could this be happening? He’s crazy!  Why is he doing this? I can’t take it!” doesn’t feel great.  And the truth is, you’re here.  You’re taking it, and you can choose how you want to be and what energy you want to bring to the world.  It matters.  Notice if something inside you likes to stir up drama or if you’d feel much better being a little more Zen.  Are your words and actions aligned with your values?  I find a deep inner ick when they’re not!  For your own peace, shift your energy.  

8. Where can you take down a barrier today?  In a world that seems determined to pit us against one another, that can be a hard ask, but look for opportunities to bridge a divide.  Extend a kindness to someone you’d normally look away from or down on.  Share a smile.  This doesn’t have to be hard or big, but small acts can generate big results.  It’s one of the things I love about the CompassioNate Care Bag movement – people are turning toward their neighbors in need and reaching a hand out instead of looking away. 

If you love someone who struggles with substance use, there are often a lot of barriers keeping us at war with one another.  Curiosity and listening at times when you might usually yell or lecture can open doors, mend hurts, and build trust and relationship.  It can be really hard to listen in a situation where you think you know what’s right or what has to be done.  When you open your heart to your loved one and listen to their ideas and perspectives, and have an actual conversation, new ideas and perspectives might emerge that you would never have come up with on your own.  When I was finally able to unplug my ears and open my eyes to have a real two-way conversation with Nate, he trusted me enough to share a little of what it was like to be him.  I think the question, spoken or intended, “What’s it like to be you?” can open a lot of doors and hearts and help build connection if we’re genuinely curious and willing to hear some hard things. 
 

​9. Notice The F’s – I don’t know about you, but when I’m feeling overwhelmed, terrified, and/or powerless, I don’t necessarily function at my best.  I jump into forcing, fighting, fixing, fleeing and frenzy.  When we feel out of control or powerless it’s easy to fall into these nasty F’s, often followed by a big loud exasperated “F IT!!”  It’s natural to try to force things to happen, to fix problems (or people), to lash out or flee to isolation, or to find yourself scrambling in a frenzy.  However, reacting these ways rarely work and often make things worse.  

Try these F’s instead – face it, flex, flow, and maybe even fun.  Flexing and flowing require a certain level of acceptance and surrender which come from facing the reality of what’s before you.  When you can, turn toward the challenge and find a way to be with it and move with it rather than frantically trying to make it change.  How might you even have fun with these moments?  I now try to spend more time clapping with joy at political signs that give me hope rather than flipping off the ones that make me cringe.  Why not?
 
Just last week I had a chance to work with this – a birthday gift I had ordered for my son was reported as “delivered” on Wednesday.  Except it had not been delivered to me.  Clearly it had been left somewhere, but it wasn’t in my box, in our parcel lockers or at my home.  So, I filed an online claim and waited for a response.  The next day I received an email to let me know they were looking into it and another later in the day that it had been found, misdelivered, but was now in my box.  Great!  Except… it wasn’t there.  So, I called the post office and left a message for the postmaster – later got a call that she had left for the day and wouldn’t be back till Tuesday, but someone else was going to talk to the carrier to try to figure out what was going on and where this package.  Frustrating…  but as I sat down on Saturday morning, I silently offered up the intention that the package find its way to us with ease, and I let it go.  I kid you not… within 10 minutes the postmaster was knocking on our door, handing my husband the package.  She had come out on her day off to find it and get it to us!  Amazing! 
 
Does it always work that way?  Of course not, especially when other people are involved.  BUT, sometimes it does.  I’m certain things went more smoothly and she was moved to help me out because I didn’t yell and scream at her.  We need to take the steps we need to take, and then let go and wait, allowing things to get worked out. 
 

10. Be aware of what you’re focusing on -  Shifting your focus from what’s wrong, what’s troubling you, or what scares you can truly change your experience of life, even if nothing outside of you changes.  One of the quickest ways to do this is to take a moment and reflect on what you’re grateful for, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant that may be.  Gratitude has been shown to rewire our brains and help take us out of the eternal loop of thinking about all that’s wrong and to open up to noticing what there is to appreciate. 

I also look for beauty every day – mostly outside, as nature is more than willing to accommodate me with her clouds, critters, plants, sunsets, and moon rises.  Oh, and last week, the Northern Lights!  Holy wow!  They were spectacular!  So cool to see so many people pulled together by this force of wonder and awe!  Even in our homes and work spaces, there’s beauty to be found if you’re willing to look.  Let yourself pause and take it in.  What does beauty feel like in your body?  Where do you notice it?  We need beauty to counter the ugliness that permeates too much of today’s airwaves. 
 

11. Meet yourself and this moment with self-compassion, kindness, and gentleness.  I noticed myself judging my lack of strength, mobility, and flexibility in yoga class the other day. In another lifetime, yoga was a regular part of my weeks and sustained me well.  The reality is in the past year and a half, what used to be a pretty regular activity has gone by the wayside.  So, I have a choice. I can feel sad about how much I’ve lost in myself and beat myself up for that, or I can feel sad about it and greet myself with compassion and acceptance that this is just the way it is right now.  I chose the latter, but not without a lot of internal chatter along the way.  It’s a process and a practice.  When we treat ourselves with compassion, we’re much more likely to offer it to others. 

12. Turn to Love, with a capital L, and ask for guidance – There are two questions I sometimes remember to ask of Love, this giant force of unconditional love that’s available to us all. 
1. What would Love do? Shockingly, the answer is often very different than what this cranky human would do!  And, 2. Love, what would you have me know? (taken from Liz Gilbert’s beautiful practice with this inquiry).  In either case, you can silently ask and quiet yourself enough to hear what response comes or you could write it out and do a little free-form journaling, allowing your hand to keep writing as you take in and capture whatever comes to you. 

I find Love to be a very gentle, compassionate, supportive force to lean into which often reminds me to take it easy on myself, to slow down… all the things we’ve talked about above!  Sometimes she shows me ways I can serve or help someone else that will feel good.  She’s a very positive influence  for me! 

Life is a series of moments never promised.  
As Joanna Macy said on her podcast, “We are the Great Turning,” (which I highly recommend you check out!), “This moment with you is a gift that was never promised.”  This is true of every moment, so cherish your moments with people you love. The more fragile their lives, the more numbered their days, the more worthy of cherishing.  We take too much for granted and get too easily swept away by stuff that isn’t worthy of our time or attention.  Let’s rein it in and build the lives we want to be living. 


Each of these suggestions is a process and a practice.  I hope something resonates that might support you in cultivating a little more peace in your days and ways.  Let me know!  What other things do you do to help create peace when times feel hard, hopeless, or scary?  Drop a note in the comments or send me a note. I love, love, love hearing from and learning from you! 

Here’s a little music 🎶to support you on this journey – enjoy!
  • Common (“Cause we’ve got way too much in common…”)
  • If not for Love (“And what are we here for, if not for love?”)
  • Love Wins (“I believe we’re made to be here for each other”)

And a couple of meditations to choose from:
  • Possibility of Peace Within
  • Sitting with the Messiness
  • In Painful Times
  • Love, What Would You have Me Know?

If Love points you toward service, here are some ways to support local grassroots efforts that are near and dear to my heart and run by people I love.   

✨Brightstar Community’s Bright Night – Nov. 7th.  Their mission is to help women survivors of sexual exploitation and trafficking find healing, hope, and independence. By raising awareness and funds, we can provide safe housing, holistic care, and a supportive community to these courageous women as they rebuild their lives. By attending and purchasing tickets to this fundraising event, you are directly contributing to providing safe, long-term housing and trauma-informed care for survivors.

❤️The Emilee Connection’s fundraiser of Music, Compassion & Connection – Nov. 8th – their 
mission is to support adults who suffer from anorexia and other eating disorders by harnessing the power of peer support, social connection, activities, educational events, inspiring speakers, and provide education and peer support for those who love them and for our community.

💕 Our CompassioNate Care Bag Mission is fueled by donations from so many amazing people.  I couldn’t do it alone!  If you’d like to be part of this mission, please consider a donation via Venmo to @Barbara-Klein-25 or through a purchase directly from my Wish List.  I’ll be compiling the next big set of bags within the next month as we head into colder weather. Thank you!  

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A little of the Northern Lights beauty I found at Lake Ontario, NY
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Life... What's the Point?

9/12/2024

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PicturePhoto by Nathan Cowley: https://www.pexels.com/photo/shallow-focus-photography-of-man-wearing-red-polo-shirt-920036/
What is the point of this human life?  We know how it’s going to end – 100% of the time for 100% of us, at least as far as I know.  And when we face pain, challenge, or loss personally or feel discouraged about the state of the world, it can be easy to ask, “What are we doing?  What’s the point? What’s this all about?” 

I hope you didn’t start reading because you thought I’d have the answer, ‘cause, here’s the thing… I can’t have your answer.  That question is one for each of us to ask, over and over, and explore and discover answers that ring true in our hearts and souls. 


As I muddled around with what to write this week, knowing that something was brewing but also that what I had wasn’t feeling cohesive, Maggie Smith popped into my inbox and let me know that Mary Oliver’s birthday was this week!  I found my thread!  Mary Oliver, the great contemplative poet who has opened many hearts and minds brings it together for me.

One of her poems springs to mind immediately (though admittedly there are many that have touched me over the years). 
“The Summer Day” with its compelling lines:

“Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”

Don’t these words address this inquiry head-on?  Yes, everything and everyone dies at last and too soon.  So, what is it we plan to do with the time we’ve been given?  Why are you here? 

I’ve come to the conclusion that my life isn’t about what happens in it, but how I respond to what happens.  This isn’t just some simple teaching.  It’s what I know to be true based on the life I’ve lived.
I’ve had some devastating losses in my life, and each one has taken its toll.  Each one has brought me to my knees.  And, somehow each one has also called me to keep on going. 

One of my closest friends, Michael, died in my first year in college.  He was 19.   I sat in the funeral home for 3 days straight with my friends, trying to make sense of how this gentle being, who’d been living his dream in Hawaii, could be lying lifeless in a box. 

My dad, who would not drive a foot until everyone’s seatbelt was safely secured, ironically was killed instantly in a random car accident while he was still in his prime, starting what he probably thought were the best years of his life with his new wife and new freedom.  I was 21, finishing my senior year of college. 

My mom, my best friend, died at age 83 (the age she had told me years before seemed like a good time to go) when I was just 39, raising 2 young boys who missed their Mima very much.  I thought I’d curl up and disappear myself, but I couldn’t.  I didn’t have time to let the pain of grief take me down which I suspect was both a gift and unfortunate. 

My dear Mary Lally, my person, the Christine to my Meredith, died far too young just a few years ago – right before Nate was to be released from prison.  I didn’t get to share that joy and hope with her, and I still miss being able to call her and laugh and cry about all that life has brought in that time.  In the aftermath of her passing I had time and space to feel the loss of my friend, something the world doesn’t understand the devastation of, and it ripped me apart.  It also revealed to me the grace that is also available even in grief.  I wrote about that time in Good Grief, Gratitude, and Grace and Swimming in the Messy Stages of Grief. 

Maybe all of these losses were the dress rehearsals for the most crushing loss of all – my beautiful son, Nate, died just a few months before his 30th birthday, just 6 months after being given his first real chance at living on his own.  When the call came, a wail unlike any other came out of this mouth, over and over and over as I doubled over, trying to make sense of what I was being told.  Numbness and shock settled in as we moved through the days and weeks, feeling little but pain and agony.  Again, I said goodbye to a beautiful young man in a box, something I needed to see but never wanted to do.  Somehow even then I knew I’d go on, but honestly there were times I didn’t want to.  There may be times again.  Sometimes the immensity of his absence lands like a sledgehammer on my heart. 

I know some people don’t like the words lost and loss when we talk about death, but I use those words because these people have been lost to my day-to-day life and their absence is a loss that I feel deeply.  It makes sense to me, and you’re free to use whatever terms make sense to you, of course. 

After Nate left this earth, even though I saw him in the dramatic sunset that very evening and I felt his presence with me immediately, his absence in our life still hits me.  There are still times I want to pick up the phone and talk with him or Mom or Mary, and the things we won’t get to talk about face-to-face hurt, leaving a big void in my world. 

So, if we’re all going to die in the end, what’s the point of being here in this not-so-easy human reality?  I’d love to hear your answers to this question – sharing our ideas is one way we learn and grow, which I do believe is the point of this Earth school. 

We’re spiritual beings having a human experience, so we’re here to experience human – to feel all the feelings, and to grow as a soul.  This is what makes sense to me.  We’re here to live and to love, even after we’ve lost people who are so dear to us.  We’re still here, and so we go on, trying to make sense of things that might never make sense, trying to find a purpose. 

One thing I know for sure is that the lives of those gone before me matter, no matter what they looked like on the surface – these people touched lives and left a mark.  Part of my purpose is to carry on the legacy and lessons I’ve learned from Nate, from Mary, from my mom.  These lessons revolve around love and compassion and giving it freely. Michael and my dad showed me what it’s like to follow your dreams and listen to your heart, even if others don’t love that you are.  Mary and my mom showed me what it meant to live, even when dealing with a disease that would ultimately take them out prematurely. 

As I pondered this, “What’s it all about?” question, here’s some of what arose for me at this time in my life (I am quite sure our answers change over time):

The point of this life is to learn and grow so that we can serve others.  The point is to be present for it, with it, to live it fully and to feel all the feelings that human brings with it, including joy and deep sadness, love and loss, and to not hold back on one for fear of the other.  Life is here to be lived, and we are here to bring love, compassion, and healing to ourselves, to one another, and to our planet.  That would be today’s answer, I think. 

To show up for life.  To embrace it.  To be who we were born to be.  To give what we have to give, and to keep asking the question, “What’s the point?” To listen and open our eyes, minds, and hearts to fresh insights, new understanding, different perspectives.  To love.  Above all else, to love and be loved.  To challenge that which is not love. 

I asked Love what she would add to these thoughts, and here’s what she offered:
Life is here to be lived, to breathe into your whole being.  Life is within you and all around you – a mighty force to be honored.  Life is a gift that was never promised and is never promised again in any moment.  It is to be savored and cherished, for it is truly a precious, sacred journey of the soul.  You are here to be and experience human, which includes pain.  And, you are built to learn and grow from that pain so that you can deepen into love, connect more deeply as a soul, and open your heart even more.  Let your heart be broken open. 

In the times when you feel like you’re facing an unending battle, feeling lost, confused, alone, or scared it can be hard to see the point or to remember that things will shift.  When you can’t see the way forward, maybe the point is simply to take that next breath… and then the next.  I know people who have overcome dark, dark times and deep, deep hardships. They show me what’s possible when I find it hard to keep showing up. 

And, so, I invite you to reflect and consider, what is the point of this life that is yours?  How do you want to live it?  How do you want to show up?  Who do you want to be?  Who can help you when times are tough?  There are choices, even if life has been shitty. 

As we honor Suicide Prevention Month and National Recovery Month, this feels like a relevant exploration.  If you need help and don’t know where to turn, text or call 988 or chat https://chat.988lifeline.org/ .  You don’t have to face your hard times alone. 

Nate’s life was chaotic and tormented for much of it, but I am clear that his life mattered, and I’m touched by the way he lived – resiliently, passionately, loudly, creatively, curiously, joyfully, and painfully, and always with love. 

May you know that you are loved.   May you know that you matter.  May you be supported to make it to another day.  Because, you’re here for a reason, and we need what you have to share.  May you know laughter and beauty.  May you cry your tears and scream your rage as you feel the impact of your losses and pain, as you fully embrace your humanity. 

I’ll close with my favorite Mary Oliver poem that always, always, always moves me to tears:

The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice –
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do –
determined to save
the only life you could save.


Can you hear this new voice arising within you?  What does it call you to? 

We’re here to live.  Of this I am certain. 

What does it look like to you to live?  What helps you keep going when times are hard? 

If you’re in crisis, please call or text 988 – support is available. 
There are also many resources that might support you on my Resource Page.  
#RecoveryMonth
#RecoveryIsPossible
#SuicideAwareness
#SuicidePrevention
#MentalHealthMatters
#MentalHealthISHealth

Here's a playlist I created that I hope you enjoy - Life...

Please share your ideas and reflections with us - help us keep on going and remembering we're not in this alone!  Much love to you as you keep on showing up.  




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Showing Up

2/4/2024

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Guest Blog by Steve Aman
There is a shadow that lurks in me that often whispers “you’re not good enough.” That shady shadow might add “what makes you think you can do that?” or some other diminishing words of gloom. It has taken many years for me to learn how to speak back to that voice. Today I can tell it, “thank you, but I don’t need you right now. Step back and I will get to you later.”  In the meantime, I discovered that when I just show up, things move along pretty smoothly and even incredibly.
 
Some time back I learned a universal truth. When we come into this world, we arrive with our own unique set of gifts and challenges. Truly, there is no one else on this earth with an identical mix like our own, and I have no doubt that this is no accident. When I compare myself to another, I automatically withhold some of my gold, and that is not what I came here for.
 
On the other hand, when I simply show up and open myself to the flow of energy, what I call Spirit, and I trust that flow, I cannot go wrong. Some folks call this energy intuition. I call it “hollow bone” energy. When I allow myself to become the conduit, or the hollow bone, between Spirit and this physical world, magic happens. The most challenging part of this for me over time has been to trust what I am hearing or feeling. “You want me to do what?” I have often asked. And, when I simply showed up, trusted that there was something bigger than me behind the scenes so to speak, it has never failed to turn out beautifully. Indeed, it seems that paying attention to that energy often turns out to be a significant gift for someone involved. 
 
Please join the conversation:
  • Do you have internal messages that keep you from showing up?
  • What have you discovered when you've overcome the doubt or fear and shown up to give your gifts anyway?
  • Is there an opportunity for you to show up where you might feel a little hesitant? What will it take to do it anyway? 
Please share with us in the comments below.  Thanks for adding your wisdom!   

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​Meet Steve: 
Steve is a retired farmer and has been deeply in love with the Earth his entire life. He and his wife of 53 years, Mary, live on a wondrous bit of creation in upstate New York that includes woods, meadow, wetland, stream, farmland and pond. 
 
Steve has been deeply immersed in teaching nature awareness and primitive skills for decades, and is currently co-developer for the Resilience and Acceptance in the Face of Collapse course (https://acceptingcollapse.com/) currently being offered across the globe. He strives to live by the maxim "balance is the key", and recognizes that absolutely nothing provides meaning like being of service.

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Beauty and Gratitude can Change Your Life

10/31/2023

4 Comments

 
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I struggled with whether to publish this post at this time; daily we are bombarded with heartbreaking headlines.  Is now the time for a post about beauty and gratitude?  I decided yes, it was.  Because in times like this, we need to find a counterbalance more than ever.  We need to remember that our world is more than horrifying headlines and traumatic events.  Always, even now, there is beauty.  There are things to be grateful for. 

It’s a profound understatement to say there are a multitude of horrible, terrifying, and devastating things happening in the world – in our communities, country, and across the globe. Whether you’re glued to the news or not, the energy of these events affects us all.  We likely feel powerless as to what to do – especially for things that are happening far away or are so impossibly overwhelming we don’t even know where to begin. 

Also, we may not know what to do in our own lives when things feel out of control, scary, uncertain, and people we love are in trouble.  The more we fret, the more exhausted we become, and we think less clearly.  When we rehash the bad, the painful, re-telling the same upsetting story over and over, we strengthen the heavy impact it has on us.  We add to our own stress. 

Every single one of us is programmed to focus on pain, what’s wrong, and to be on the lookout for danger or impending doom – that’s part of human nature that has kept us safe and alive for eons.  Scientists call this the negativity bias. 

In his blog, Rick Hanson describes it this way - “Your brain is continually looking for bad news. As soon as it finds some, it fixates on it with tunnel vision, fast-tracks it into memory storage, and then reactivates it at the least hint of anything even vaguely similar. But good news gets a kind of neural shrug: “uh, whatever. In effect, the brain is like Velcro for negative experiences but Teflon for positive ones.” 

The negative experiences stick to us, poke at us, and wear us down, while we ignore, brush off, or don’t even notice positive ones.  Sometimes we miss much of what’s “good,” simply because we take it for granted. For instance (and hypothetically speaking, of course! 😉), you might not think about how strong your legs are and how much they do for you until you break your foot.  Once you’ve broken that foot and your mobility and independence are affected, it grabs your attention and pulls you into the pit of feeling bad.  It can be hard to think about anything else, and you may pile on by judging yourself for having such a stupid accident (hypothetically speaking, again!). 
 
The good news is there are simple and accessible ways to shift our mindset and experience – when we do so, we can better show up for the things that require our energy.

We need to find ways to re-energize ourselves, and one of those ways is to find a broader perspective and remember things are not all or nothing, good or bad.  Truly, a wide array of experiences and offerings aany given moment. Yes, there's horror, and yes, there's more than that.  

While I’ve learned that I’m not in control of the experiences in my life.  I broke my foot, my son died, it’s raining, wars are raging worldwide – these are facts, and obviously facts that vary in intensity and severity.  They are things I wish were different, and there's nothing  I can do to change them. 

And yet, even when times are tough or excruciatingly painful, there is still good in life.  We have the ability to find it, notice it, or create it.  And, let me be clear, I’m not talking about avoiding, denying, or jumping over the rough stuff through pretending, spiritual bypassing, or looking for the silver lining too soon (or ever) in untenable events.  Nor am I suggesting you say affirmations that tell you things are better than they are (unless that works for you. In which case, affirm away!). 

But, what is true, is that each and every day, no matter the agony, pain, and heartache, there is also beauty somewhere in life.  Whether it’s the red-bellied woodpecker flitting through the trees, crying out to be seen or the cascade of golden leaves floating to the lawn or the dandelion brave enough to peek up through the cement, there’s something beautiful here.  A coffee mug given by a dear friend.  A photo of a special memory.  The scent of a pumpkin chai candle.  Beauty does not have to be big or bold, but it does long to be seen, witnessed, savored. 

In her beautiful book for navigating tough times, Keep Moving, Maggie Smith speaks of the way she and her children delight in sharing “beauty emergencies” – those things that have to be seen right away, before they’re gone.  If one of them sees a spectacular sunset or a dinosaur in the clouds, they’ll call out to the others, “Beauty emergency!”  so they can cherish it together and no one misses out.  What a sweet way to be on alert for something wonderful.  Maybe all emergencies aren’t bad. 

Life has been very chaotic for us over the past 14 years with my son’s struggles with substance use and other mental health challenges.  So much despair.  So much fear.  Times adding up to months of lost connection and opportunities over the years.  It would have been easy for me to have been all-consumed with all that was bad, scary, unknown. In the deep grief since his physical passing, it’s easy to cry endlessly and think of nothing other than how much I miss him.   But even with all the pain and suffering, there is also much to be grateful for. 

That we had 29 years with him, I am grateful for.  That I got to be his mom.  For the happy and hopeful moments that were scattered in there, I am grateful.  The small things like a hug or a deep conversation – those were always a gift.  Because I knew how precarious his life and our time together was, I learned to cherish precious moments along the way.  And when I was too upset with him to find gratitude within that relationship, I opened my heart to the fullness of life.  A delicious meal, a warm home, fresh water and air, or a friend who’d let me vent were things I could be grateful for. 

Gratitude: 
Taking time to pause and open my heart to beauty and gratitude has changed my experience of life – the way I feel about and within life. For over a decade I have had an intentional gratitude practice.  Usually that means in the evening taking some time to reflect on the day and list things that I am grateful for, things I’ve noticed throughout the day, and share it on Facebook.  I’m not sure how this practice started, but it has become a daily ritual that strengthens me; sharing with others fills me up. 

On particularly hard mornings, I’ve taken a little time while still in bed, reflecting on what I’m grateful for; this practice helps me enter the day.  Somehow something inside of me softens as I remember and acknowledge beautiful bits of life.  The other day I sat on our deck and softly offered verbal thanks for the people who’ve shown up to walk through this chapter of life with me; taking just a few minutes to acknowledge long-standing friendships and new people who are coming into my circle – feeling them in my heart as I pictured each one.  These are some of the ways I’ve taken time to intentionally reflect and feel into gratitude. 

Finding Beauty: 
I also look for beauty each day and share pictures on Facebook as well.  “Today’s beauty” posts seem to offer a welcome and different vibe to this platform.  I like sharing sunsets, cloud formations, leaves, trees, and flowers with people.  I love rippling beauty into a dark and ugly time and a space that is too often contentious.    

The more I practice gratitude and look for beauty, the more I find myself noticing throughout the day.  The more I notice things I appreciate, the less I dwell on all that’s wrong.  This isn’t a magic formula or an exercise to check off a list, but rather a way to open my heart and spirit to all of life.  Gratitude lives alongside grief in my mind and heart, woven together, inseparable.  After my dear friend, Mary, passed away, I wrote a bit about this in “Good Grief, Gratitude, and Grace.”  I was absolutely devastated to have lost the one person in my life who always made me laugh and who willingly opened her heart to all of me.  There was nothing I had to hide from Mary.  Who would I turn to now?  And yet, gratitude and grace were there too.  It’s been the same since my son, Nate, died; this crushing loss has dropped me to my knees and isolated me more than any loss in my life and it lives inside my heart right along with beauty, grace, and gratitude. 

Life will bring what life will bring.  How we meet it is up to us.  I’m in for the full human experience, so I don’t shy away from the depths of grief and sadness.  But I’m also always on the hunt for beauty and gratitude.  Slowing down enough to feel gratitude seep through the cells of my being, breathing it in, allowing it to permeate the deep dark places softens my heart, welcomes the tears, and expands my capacity for living fully.  Savoring beauty often takes my breath away, filling me with wonder and awe. 

Beauty and gratitude help us to see and think about more than all that’s wrong with the world, all that’s hard or painful in our lives.  They remind us that life is full of a vast variety of people, things, and experiences.  We’re not trying to cancel out or deny anything; we’re adding in more of what we might have been missing.  Where we choose to focus our attention affects us. 


“When you do nothing, you feel overwhelmed and powerless. But when you get involved, you feel the sense of hope and accomplishment that comes from knowing you are working to make things better.”  Maya Angelou

An Invitation:
Today I invite you to join me in this quest to find moments of beauty and gratitude.  Let’s try it right now.  Wherever you are, whether it’s on the subway or in the most peaceful bedroom sanctuary, look around.   What do you see that’s beautiful?  Take it in – the colors, shapes, texture, scent.  Allow its beauty to lift a smile.  As you sit here, close your eyes and feel into one thing you’re grateful for, no matter how big or small.  Experience what it feels like to fully appreciate something.  Breathe in the feeling of gratitude and allow it to flow through your cells.  What do you notice? 

Take your time and take in as much beauty and gratitude as you like, and then throughout your day be on the lookout for more.  Give thanks.  Appreciate what you find.  Over time, you may just find your experience of life shifting.  Please share your experience with us here!  

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I Can't____, but I CAN...

8/22/2023

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PictureImage by Mohamed Hassan from Pixabay
This week feeds off of last week’s “Yes, and…” post because life is built upon those things we say “yes” to and the things we choose to do.  I find myself reflecting on the things I can’t do, while opening to what I can.  Where I choose to focus changes the energy I feel inside - whether it’s heavy and dark or lighter and expansive.  And also, how I show up to life, how I feel in life, and how I move with life. 

There’s much that I can’t do, and there is also much that I can.  The key is to remember choice.  I can sit on my deck or in my yard in the morning or night, appreciating, savoring that I get to live in this place of beauty, listening to my fellow critters…peepers, birds, cicadas, squirrels… letting them be a symphony to my ear and a balm to my soul. 

I can’t control other people’s negative, aggressive behavior (or ever understand why an elderly man in our neighborhood feels a need to ride around on his scooter with a nasty flag flying), but I can choose how I want to show up to this life that is mine.  I can build up my own strength and health.  I can write, speak, and teach, getting messages of compassion and fresh perspective and possibility out to the world.  I can do what I can to “leave behind the world a better way” as the Avett Brothers say in “Salvation Song.” 

I can create, find, and choose joy and peace. I can cultivate gratitude, wonder, and awe. I can do what I can to show up with mindful presence.  I can choose who I am and how I want to be with the life I have been gifted.  If you’d like to consider what a gift this day is, please take a few moments to watch A Grateful Day with Br. David Steindl-Rast.

While I can’t help my own son any longer, I can serve others, people who are someone else’s child.  So, this week, I have taken steps to put together care bags to hand out to people who are homeless, who stand on the corners with scrawled signs, asking for some morsel of kindness.  Instead of looking the other way (which I can’t any more, since I know any one of those people could have been my son on any given day), I now look for opportunities to look these people in the eye, to offer at least my love and a smile if I have nothing else to give.  But I also want to give more.  To extend a hand of kindness to someone who too many look away from, thinking “you can’t save everyone” or “why don’t they go get a job?” or who knows what else. 

And so, I am compiling care bags with snacks, personal supplies, and resource cards for #Neverusealone and local supports for harm reduction and housing.  Since Nate died, I’ve wanted to create cards with his picture on them.  Cards that say “in loving memory of Nate, forever 29” and “I see you.  You matter.  Please take care.  You are not alone.”  Cards that list local numbers which might actually offer help when and if a person reaches out. 

This week I created and ordered those cards.  You too can download and print the Never Use Alone resources here and have them handy when you offer a little money or your kindness to a person in need.  I put together a wish list on Amazon so that others could easily and quickly buy items to help me fulfill this mission.  If you’d like to be one of those angels, I welcome your support and you can find that list here, or email me if you’d like to send a check or online payment for this purpose. 

As I look at the cards with my son’s loving gaze and I pull together the items that I hope will brighten someone’s day, my heart feels full and grateful that I can serve in this way. 

I can choose to live, even though Nate and so many don’t.  I can live for them, to honor their lives.   I can focus on what I can do and be, which will keep me moving forward rather than staying stuck in the agony of what I can’t do.  I can do it honestly, authentically, imperfectly, with integrity that allows all of the human experience as part of it.  I can continue to look for, notice, pause, and savor the beauty that is here every single day, rather than dwelling on the ugly that is much louder and for some reason highlighted by the news and social media.  It seems more prevalent, but I doubt it really is. 

I can do what I can to brighten another person’s day, simply by offering a smile or holding a door, saying “thank you,” letting someone in in traffic.  It doesn’t have to be costly.  And, when able, I can donate time or money, buy someone’s drive-through order without them even knowing (that’s so much fun!).  There are opportunities for kindness every day. 

I can do what I can to help others - to be kind, compassionate, generous, and loving.  And, I can only hope that it makes a difference.  I can’t save my son’s or anyone’s life, but maybe I can make a difference to someone.  It’s certainly worth a try.  Kindness and compassion are in short supply.  Let’s do what we can.  Let us be loving forces of light in this world.  That’s who my son was, and it’s who I hope to be as well.  Out of pain rises purpose and passion to do what I can. 

A lot of what we think we can’t do may be things we simply haven’t learned yet or trained for (more of a “I can’t yet…” or “I don’t know if I can because I’ve never tried.”)  We may surprise ourselves if we open to the possibility that maybe we can.  Don’t close the door too soon. And for the things you know you can’t do, I invite you to look at what you can do instead.  If you can’t help someone you love, who can you serve?  If you can’t do one activity you wish you could, what can you do as an alternative?  If you don’t have the financial means to do something, what might be a nice, affordable substitute? Shifting our focus from what we can’t do, to what we might be able to or what we can, can make a world of difference.  

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Yes, and... Life is One Big Improv

8/14/2023

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Picture
I got together with a friend/teacher/mentor/coach the other day and I’m so glad I did.  As we sat outdoors, enjoying our coffee and lemonade, we talked for over 2 hours about life, death, struggle, and joy.  We shared our truths and our hearts.  So grateful for precious 1:1 time like this - real conversation, heartfelt connection and care for one another, true interest in what’s going on in each other’s worlds.  This man and I do not shy away from the hard topics.  We dive right in.  But we don’t wallow in the misery, by any means.  He also reminded me about joy and the ability to choose.
 
He reignited within me a desire for joy by sharing his commitment to only take on work that brings him joy.  Even in important, life-altering work, joy is possible.  Even with something as heavy as supporting people around substance use and recovery, joy is possible.  I want to work with people who are open to wonder, awe, delight, even in the hardest and heaviest of times.  No doubt watching a loved one struggle, fearing for their life, or losing them certainly are some of the hardest, scariest, heaviest times I’ve known. 

And yet, even after Nate’s death, there are turkeys in wildly unexpected places, owls everywhere, feathers dropping out of nowhere, song lyrics, people appearing out of the blue to amaze and delight us, to touch our hearts, to wake us up to the mystery beyond what our little human minds understand.  Even now he reminds me to be touched by the life we shared, the moments of joy and delight, the laughter, the not-so-serious times before things got so serious, and even the joy we found while they were very serious. 

I don’t need to carry the yoke of his death around my neck forever because the delights of life are also still available to me.  Wonder and awe are everywhere if my eyes are attuned to look for them.  Joy dances in my heart, waiting to be set free.  At a campfire, watching grown women blow bubbles, listening to heart-wrenching music with my sister while coyotes yip and yap in the nearby hedge, feeling both invigorated and a little terrified all at once.  Dancing and singing at a P!nk concert, surrounded by glitter, boas, pink tie-dye, and neon landscapes, holding my breath while she soars overhead, praying that cable and harness hold.  Taking in the early morning sun as it casts its light on the hills, on the lake.  Appreciating moments of silence, the stillness of this day.  The fact that I get another day.  That I get to have time with friends who are delightful rays of sunshine.  Getting to connect with one of Nate’s close friends, and being able to bake for her and get to know him through her heart and eyes.  Time for yoga, time to clean if and when I feel like it.  Making time to write and letting go of any rules I might have once held about what a blog should be.  All these things carry their own kind of miraculous wonder and awe. 

Yes, there is a lot of shit in the world.  A lot of angry, scared, exasperated, and aggressive people out there. I see them every time I hit the highway - their energy shouts at me from their window stickers and their rapid pole-positioning.  I see them online venting their frustrations and accusations.  People who are afraid act out; they try to control because too much feels out of control.  I get it. I’ve been there. 

And yet… music is still being made, gorgeous cakes are being baked and decorated, birds still sing, butterflies dance unaware of this craziness, campfire flames leap and kiss marshmallows to golden perfection, stories are shared, memories held, poems melt hearts, dreams ignite, and beauty  is everywhere. 

If only we slow down enough to notice, even when our hearts are broken, love and wonder, awe and delight are everywhere, available, waiting.  Each day, each moment offering a new beginning.  We do not need to buy into the story that life must be a slog.  We do not need to take on the “poor me” persona that comes when people know you’ve had a devastating loss, are facing a dire challenge, or are in treatment for a disease they’re calling fatal.  Hope can remain.  Miracles abound. Truly. 

Sometimes it’s a game to catch Nate’s signs and to simply delight in them.  I let him know I get it. I see him.  I hear him.  I feel it.  I laugh. I thank him. 

Life does not have to be a burden to bear.  Couples do not have to play out the sitcom roles of annoying and being annoyed with one another.  Workers do not have to surrender their joy for a job they hate, be available for it when they have nothing left to give or when they’re supposed to be done for the day.  No one is obligated to be on call all the time.  Turn off the damn phone and be present with the people right here, to this moment offering itself for your delight. 

We can take back the joy.  Even after the unimaginable has pierced our hearts.  Our hearts still long for love, laughter, excitement, delight.  They really, really do.  Don’t worry.  It doesn’t erase the pain or negate the loss.  But, living in endless suffering honors no one.  Living in constant fear serves no one.  Pushing beyond the point of exhaustion is good for no one.  So, bring on the joy.  Show up to life and embrace it wildly. 

Let life live through you.  Yes, I am broken hearted at the loss of my son, and still I get up each day and engage with life.  Yes, I wish he were still here and we had one more chance, and we don’t, so I choose how I will continue to live. 

Where can you find ways to say, “Yes, this bad thing has happened or is happening, and… still I will ____ (have fun, find delight, rest, create peace, etc., whatever is true for you).”  or “Yes, I do have this responsibility/commitment/obligation, and still I can_____________” 

​Where can you free yourself to live life a little less burdened and a little more playful?  Where can you get curious?  What opportunities might you give yourself?  Because one thing I now know for sure is that life is one big improv.  We don’t know what will be thrown our way, and so it’s up to us to choose, moment by moment how to respond.  How to engage.  

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Birth, Death, and Renewal

8/10/2023

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PictureImage by Daniel Kirsch from Pixabay








​Birth, Death, & Renewal
                by Barb Klein
 
Birth, death, and renewal -
                it’s nature’s way
 
But what is “dead” is never truly gone.
It lives on inside what’s new
It informs and transforms what remains
                What is born anew
 
What was is the foundation
                for what will be
 
Things change, fall apart, evolve, devolve
All touched, shaped by what was
 
We are never separate from our past -
                it’s part of the web we weave for today, tomorrow
 
Skins are shed,
energy lives on
Hearts moved and shaped
                by love that has been
                and love that lives on
 
Seasons
Cycles
Never-ending
Unbroken
 
What will be
                rises from the ashes of what was
 
Hearts, homes, families 
                shift, change, fall away, become
                as people move and people die
 
Who I was, who we were
Forever changed by your birth, your death,
                your presence
 
You cannot be lost to us
You are woven into the fabric of our beings -
part of what makes us who we are
 
We love differently
We live differently
We speak and act and move and are moved differently
                because of you
 
Our very cells are changed
                because you were here,
                because you are here
 
We can never unknow you,
                unfeel you,
                forget you
 
You make us us…
Your light fills our hearts,
Your life fuels our souls -
                guides our way, our mission, our purpose
 
We are forever changed
                for having shared this life with you
 
Thank you for the gift of your being
Thank you for being
Thank you for being part of us,
                forever and always

 
This poem woke me up the other day and needed to be captured right away.  It brought with it an awareness of the truth about nature’s cycle of birth, death, and renewal - not only of a person, but of people who live on after a death.  Families, friends, communities, are affected by one another.  Once touched by someone, we are forever informed by those who have landed in our hearts and souls.
 
Yes, we are shaken, broken apart by loss - death, moves, endings and beginnings - but, what rises from these losses is built upon the past.  What was, who was, lessons learned, hearts opened, insights gained are all beacons to what will become.  To who we will become. 

Perhaps grief is grist for the mill.  It works on us, within us, reshaping who and what comes next.  It’s part of the process - an integral, vital, and powerful force for growth and birth and transformation.  This insight is feeling very alive within me, and I am grateful for that. 

We are forever peeling away layers, touched by what was, who was, what’s happened.  We are fueled by it one way or the other as we step into this next chapter, this next episode of the journey called life. 

Our family is in the midst of so much change.  Nate’s death has shaken us, rocked us to the core.  His life and our experiences with him have shown us so much, too much, and yet not enough.  We can never be who we were before - before he was here, before we lived through it all, before he died.  There is no “going back” to normal, to how things used to be for any of us, ever.  Each moment informs the next.  Opens us to what’s to come. 

For me it inspired and fills me with purpose.  Ignites my passion to create change - change in a world, in ways I never would have imagined had Nate not been a part of my experience. Yesterday I put his photo boards up all around our sunroom.  Everywhere I look, I see Nate’s face, his expression, moments of experiences with him and others.  Every memory, every smile, every tear has etched a place in my heart, planted a seed from which I grow.  Building the foundation upon which I live - the platform from which I launch myself into this new day.  My words, thoughts, actions, imagination all touched by what was. 

There’s a metaphor here that I’m not quite catching yet.  Maybe compost.  The past dissolves, morphs not into something that’s gone, but as fertilizer, nutrient for what’s to come.  This is all very powerful and allows for creation, birth, evolution rather than simply slipping into feeling a victim. 
It empowers me to feel the knowing of this.  Of course there is still sadness and loss - how would there not be?  These emotions also churn and stir things up, breaking apart what was to build anew.  Just as forests are reborn after devastating fires, so too are hearts and people.  (John Roedel has written a beautiful poem about this called “Super bloom”  A poem we used in Nate’s memorial service). 

Let us be touched by the love, by the loss so that we remember to live.

Change - letting go, accepting moves us forward.  As people move on, our dynamics will change.  The nature of our days will be different.  What we need to do.  What we get to do different than before.  How we spend our energy, our money, our time, different, but affected deeply by their presence.   Forever changed by our time together, by our love, by our growth as a group of beings interconnected always.

I smile as I feel Nate’s presence all around.  The presence of loved ones alive and gone - moments that have woven this tapestry of my life.  The beauty that makes me me.  

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Going On...Even when Life is Forever Changed

5/5/2023

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PictureImage by Dorothe from Pixabay
Nine years ago, I had just begun writing a beautiful little book of healing poems and prayers, or rather I should say I was being woken up by words that compelled me to get up and write them down.  The writing was helping me to process life, and I thought the book was going to be called “Garden of Inspiration.”  About 6 months in, it became clear that that title did not embody all that wanted to be written.  That life was more than just sunshine and rainbows, and people needed to feel not alone even in the dark, horrible, scary, and sad times.  The subtitle for what would become 111 Invitations, “Step into the Full Richness of Life” was born.  It’s a not-so-cute phrase to reflect that sometimes life is horribly painful and sometimes beautifully wonderful and a lot of times kind of just meh… and all of it is part of this human experience we seem to have signed up for.  

Last year after one of my closest friends, Mary Lally, died on Christmas Eve, I wrote about grief, trying to capture the grace and pain of it.  When I wrote Good Grief, Gratitude and Grace and Swimming in the Messy Stages of Grief, I thought I knew what I was talking about.  Maybe I did for that particular grief journey.  However, I am learning that grief takes many forms and shows up in surprising and profoundly non-linear ways.  It’s slow, it’s sneaky, it’s exhausting and intense, and it permeates everything at times (much like pepper juice on half a pizza that seeps over and tarnishes the whole thing).  

In the past 14 years, I’ve navigated a journey that has been deeply challenging and has brought a lot of grief, along with a huge amount of deep and enduring love.  That love continues even though on March 29th, our beautiful son, Nate died.  The pain from this loss is unlike any I’ve ever experienced and as many people in my life have reflected, “It’s unimaginable.”  In the beginning the shock carried and protected us pretty well, getting us through the tasks that had to be handled immediately.  And at the same time, the sense of sacredness landed in my heart as a clear truth - we didn’t have to rush to decide about many things.  We could wait to create a service in a way and at a time that felt right to us.  We did not need to conform to societal norms (Nate never did, so why should we!?) despite pressure from several of his friends who understandably wanted to pay their respects and memorialize him in some way.  

Go ahead and do what you will, I told them.  I can’t do this for you, and anything other than keeping my circle really close and small right now would have wrecked me.  I pondered whether there might be value in grieving in community and maybe we should have a service sooner, but we were not ready yet.  Even now, much remains unclear, and we will just take it one moment at a time. 
What I can say with confidence now that I’m living this dreaded life experience, is that the practices and teachings I’ve been living and sharing for the past decade really are working for me.  They have resourced me well and allowed me to somehow keep on going, to show up for life, to live, albeit with a lot of heartache and emptiness.  

I am so deeply grateful I am that we had found compassionate, kind, and loving ways to be in relationship with Nate over the past few years, that we had many honest, deep, and healing conversations.  There is no question for any of us how much love connected us all.  That is in large part thanks to a meditation practice which built the capacity to cultivate a heart that can hold it all,  expanded open-hearted compassion, and taught us to turn toward life as it is.  It’s also in large part a benefit of Recovery Coach training which helped us to understand addiction and recovery differently than we had in the past.  The Invitation to Change approach definitely helped us foster trust and a loving, respectful relationship.  Thank God we had that approach alive and well in our lives.  I cannot imagine the regret that would haunt me now had we not.  

Now to highlight a few of the things that have helped over the past decade (or longer) that continue to resource me now.  It would have been much harder to incorporate these things into my life now had I not cultivated them over time.  I believe they are always helpful and especially when there is one big thing that might consume our lives, whether that’s a child who struggles, work that takes over, a parent or loved one who requires our care.  There are big things that can begin to define us and our entire existence if we’re not aware.  When they do, it’s time to find a way back to ourselves.  

1. Getting Support - Though this list is very incomplete and the things I’m highlighting are interwoven and maybe this aspect couldn’t happen without the others, I think it’s clear to say up front that I could not be doing as well as I am through this grief without so much loving support.  I am glad that I have learned to ask for what I need, so when my sister asked whether she should come to be with me or not, I could clearly let her know that yes, I would like her to be here.  In the past there might have been more self-abandonment in not wanting to impose on her, denying my needs in order to accommodate what I imagined were hers.  

Knowing what kind of support and when I am open to receive has been critical.  If someone offered food or a healing session that I couldn’t accept in that moment, I’ve asked for rainchecks.  When the time was right, I asked friends to set up a Meal Train for us because we still don’t have the energy or focus to think about preparing meals.  People love to give, so I’ve allowed myself to receive and say, “thank you” without too much discomfort that I’m being self-centered and spoiled.  When I hit a wall from too much peopling, I give myself a break.  I’ve had to pace my interactions in order to honor my own bandwidth in this time.  Learning how to respect my own needs and capacity, even as I invite others to walk alongside me has been critical (I don’t think I could have learned it in real-time so I’m grateful for the years of self-care and focus on developing this skill which allow it to kick in in a time of crisis). 

Over the years I have been and seen others be “strong and independent”… putting off the vibe of the outstretched stop-sign hand, letting the world know, “I’m good.  I’ve got this” and then wondering why no one was offering love or support.  We, as a society, have become overly influenced by this idea of fierce independence and self-reliance.  We need each other to walk through life.  We need to open our arms and hearts and let others in when we’re struggling.  We need to understand that vulnerability is not a sign of weakness and that allowing others to show up and lend their service or their listening ear is a gift to you both.  

2. Pause - you’ve likely heard me tout the value of a pause a million times if you’ve been around for any time. The taking of a breath creates space for a supportive pause.  Even that split second gathering can be the difference between a less-than-well-crafted reaction and a more mindful response.  Practicing the pause over many years has allowed me to be gentler with myself in what is a huge pause now - allowing myself to step back and listen within to what I need and for guidance.  It’s in the pause that we access a deeper wisdom.  When we pause, we take life one moment at a time, which is really the only way to go.  When we don’t pause, we are often overtaken by fear which leads to reactivity and chaos.  In the pause, we gain a little perspective, a little space, a little breathing room.  

3. Self-Care is Vital - Renee Trudeau has taught me to slow down, quiet down, put my hands on my heart and ask, “How do I feel? What do I need?  What do I want?”  At first it felt foreign and awkward and sometimes my answer was “I have no idea…”  Over time this has become part of who I am and how I roll, thank goodness.  What this simple inquiry has allowed me to do in this time is to honor the needs and wants of my body, mind, heart, and spirit.  It has allowed me to respond to those needs and wants and to ask for help.  It’s allowed me pace myself, to honor the sacredness of this time and push aside any outside ideas or pressure of how this should go.

Self-care will look different, moment by moment.  Allowing this is critical.  Sometimes what’s needed is a nap, other times a phone call with a friend, a walk in the woods, or a good car scream!  It’s not formulaic, but rather arises out of the ability to tune in and listen to your own inner knowing.  I am deeply grateful for almost a decade of integrating this into my way of being - I could not have learned it in a time like this. 

4. Gentle Yourself - Many thanks to Jenna, a retreat participant years ago, for offering up this phrase and turning “gentle” into a verb.  As soon as I heard it, I knew what she meant.  Greet yourself with exquisite tenderness, kindness, and care - likely the way you would treat a beloved friend or child.  Often, we are most harsh with ourselves and gentling may not come naturally, but it is a profound gift when we can greet ourselves with compassion, love, and respect.  In times of deep grief or confusion, gentling allows us to be ok enough to keep showing up, one moment at a time.  

5. Honoring each Soul’s Journey - My son and I have always been deeply connected and certainly our lives were interwoven, yet several years ago, it became clear that they were also separate.  He had his path and I had mine.  Related, but distinct.  Not dependent on one another for our state of wellbeing.  It’s why I knew with every fiber of my being that I could, actually, be happier than my unhappiest child.  I would not lay that burden on him; I did not need him to be ok for me to be ok.  Thankfully my husband wisely articulated, “Yes, there’s love for him, but there’s also love for me, for us…” meaning we didn’t have to give it all away in an effort to save him.  We needed to live our life even while we loved him, supported him, and walked alongside him the best we could.  

Had my wellbeing been completely linked to his, I may well be totally devastated now, unable to imagine going on.  My heart is shattered, my life has a huge Nate-sized hole in it, and I often feel sick when I imagine forever without him in it.  And, I am going on.  I know I will find my way back to myself and into whatever this new reality becomes.  I will show up to life and live because we still have work to do, because I am determined to make our journey and his life and death matter.  

You too are more than the one thread that feels all-consuming. I promise.  Who are you beyond that?  It’s worth the time to explore.  To remember that you were a person before this thing came into your life, or even if your thing is something that’s been a part of you all your life, there’s more to you than just that.  Don’t let yourself be defined or boxed in by any one thing.  Stretch to see what more is here.  

6. Acceptance - NOT as in I’ve reached the (non-existent) final “stage” of grief, and I’ve got this, but rather an acceptance of what is here.  This goes along with #5 and also goes beyond.  Acceptance of what is, not being at war with reality, allows us to meet ourselves and our lives exactly as they are.  When we stop wishing that things were different (and believe me, I’ve never wished that more than these past 5 weeks), we can begin to live here and now with the qualities of truth and presence. This is what is.  Now what?  

Part of the acceptance that has guided me over these past many years was knowing that we could not save my son’s life.  That it wasn’t even our job to do so.  We could only love him as he is for as long as he’s here, but how long that was wasn’t up to us.  Accepting that limitation freed me to love him differently, less desperately.  It allowed us to have more honest conversations where we were each safe to share.  Accepting him as he was meant I didn’t need to impose on him what I thought he should be or how he should do things; at times I was able to consider his perspective, put myself in his shoes.  What I wanted wasn’t necessarily what he did.  I had to try to honor his autonomy and walk alongside him and try to avoid letting my fear throw me into a state of telling or yelling.  Acceptance allowed him to feel seen, heard, loved, and respected and allowed a softening in me toward his life and what the outcome might be.  

For months we’ve been pretty aware that we were watching our son die.  We did what we could to explore better supports and treatment.  We loved him fiercely.  And we also looked at quality of life, honoring that he’d prefer to live on his own, have a job, be able to write and record his music (which he did) than be in an inpatient facility, even if it would keep him safe and alive.  Acceptance allowed me to choose who I wanted to be and how I wanted to show up, even when I was terrified that he would die.  Acceptance allowed us to have a closer, more loving and trusting, open relationship than we would have otherwise.  And acceptance now allows each of us to grieve in our own way at a our time, knowing that we will need and want different things at different times.  Navigating together, but individually.  

7. Cultivating a Heart that can Hold It All - this is a phrase I first heard from Buddhist meditation teacher, Tara Brach, and it’s one I’ve taken to heart ever since.  It’s the idea that seemingly contradictory states of being can coexist in a way that the mind can’t make sense of but the heart can.  It requires us to get away from black and white, either/or, all or nothing thinking and to recognize that even in the most painful times, there is also beauty, peace, and joy.  Making room in our hearts for it all to be there is exquisite, because it’s already all there anyway.  Often, we are just overly focused on one or the other, squeezing one out because it doesn’t seem to fit, adding to our suffering by not allowing ourselves the full richness of this human experience.  

A meditation practice that invites us to sit with the breath, to notice what we’re noticing, but not need to rush to fix or change it, helps us to develop this capacity to be with all of life.  To turn toward even the pain and discomfort, to sit in it, not needing to rush past.  

There are times when I’m sick and tired of this grief thing that has landed like a cloak on our world, and I’d like to just get on, get “back to normal,” but at a deeper level I know there is no going back. There is no normal any more.  I can only go forward into what is next, and as exhausting and uncomfortable as it is, I don’t want to bypass the divinely human experience of a deep grief that reflects a profound loss and a deep love.  

At times I’ve wondered if I’m doing this wrong because I see people look at me, expecting that I will be devastated all the time - how could I not be?  I’ve lost my child.  But I’m not.  I mean, I’m on the verge of tears most of the time, thoughts of Nate and the ache and longing to hold him one more time don’t ever go away, but I can also take in the beauty of a magnolia bloom, laugh with a friend, find comfort in mindless TV, sleep at night, and be grateful for the lack of worry that comes with knowing where he is.  When I think of forever without him, I get punched in the gut with a wave of nausea, I lose my breath… and so I ride that wave.  I allow it to be here (because, as we’ve already acknowledged, it is here) without pushing it away.  If I get sick and tired of saying the same things over and over again (which I do), I allow the sick and tired.  It’s amazing how much our hearts can hold if only we allow them to.  

8. Gratitude - I have been practicing gratitude for at least 12 years now and it truly has changed my experience of life.  (You can check out the research on how gratitude actually rewires our brains).  It hasn’t changed my life circumstances, because most of those are out of my control.  But it has changed how I walk through life, what I focus on, what I notice.  Gratitude is one of the simplest things you can weave into your life.  In any moment you can pause, get quiet, look around and notice what you’re grateful for.  Whether you speak it out loud, write it down, or simply notice, take a moment to breathe it in to your being.  What does it feel like to feel grateful?  Where in your body do you notice it?  

I notice a softening and expansion in my heart, a fullness and deepening of my breath, a broadening of my perspective in that moment of “oh yes… this is here too.”  The more we look for things to appreciate in life, the more it becomes part of who we are.  Every day I take photos of beauty, inside and outside my home.  It’s part of my gratitude.  I also reflect every evening on what I’m grateful for over the course of the day.  Sometimes I pause and reflect in the morning before I get out of bed.  I’m grateful the sun came up again, and I have one more day.  I’m grateful for my tears which give me the natural release for this grief.  I’m grateful for the friends who let me carry on and share my raw feelings with them.  I’m grateful for the birds singing outside my window, the sunlight, the stunning beauty of the sky and sunset, the fresh burst of blooms that remind me of new life, even in the presence of death.  

9. A Huge Dose of Grace and Self-Compassion is always of benefit.  

That’s what I have to offer today, 5 weeks into the most profound grief of my life.  I’m here.  I’m still me even as me is forever changed.  The core of who I am and what I know have been deeply impacted by this loss, and yet they carry me still.   
​
I hope that maybe there’s something here you can bring into your life to help carry you when times get hard as well as when things are flowing smoothly.  I’d love to hear what resonates with you or what challenges you.  Please share in the comments or drop me a note.  I may not reply right away (or even at all) - that’s part of gentling myself right now.  But you reading and responding always matters.  Thanks for being here as we walk this human journey in all its richness.  

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    About me...

    I am a writer, coach, and teacher, and I love capturing life's many moments through writing, whether that be journalling, blogging, poetry, or essay.  I have always found the written word as a natural way for me to express what lies within.  

    This is the space where we get real.  I will write about my life experiences and things that I find my clients encounter in their daily lives.   

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Barb Klein
Inspired Possibility
585-705-8740
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