Inspired Possibility Blog

Boundaries... Tough, and So Critical!

6/16/2022

Recently I’ve become really aware of my accumulated depletion from years of hyper-vigilance, and over-giving. Certainly, this has been me for the few decades, since the time I was pregnant with my oldest son.

Most likely it’s been me my whole life. Even as a pretty young child, there was care-giving I had to do. Always on alert, always doing what I could, working hard to make sure my people are safe, the household runs decently enough, friends are ok, clients well-cared for… carrying a lot of people and their needs in my head and heart. No doubt the stresses of our time is also weighing heavily on me.

It’s like the fish in water who doesn’t know they’re swimming in water – I didn’t know or couldn’t see what I’ve been swimming in. I have so many wonderful grounding practices, that mostly I do pretty well. I thought I was ok. And, overall, I really AM OK! I share all of this only to lay the background, not for anyone to worry about me – really.

At the same time, it’s catching up with me, so I’m finding I need more space, more time, more quiet, more slowing down, more breathing room in order to return my nervous system to calm. It’s not as calm as I’ve thought it was as often as I’ve thought it was. And, so, enter the need for boundaries. Boundaries do not come easily or naturally to me, but I’ve learned how vital they are to one’s well-being.

Enter boundaries

Enter the need for boundaries. Boundaries do not come easily or naturally to me, but I’ve learned how vital they are to one’s well-being. I resonate with Brené Brown’s definition of boundaries as “what’s ok and what’s not ok.” When we can be clear about this and communicate it to others, we actually strengthen relationship and clarify roles.

Boundaries allow me to stay connected. They help me to preserve my energy and well-being. Without boundaries, I might need to pull away completely, shut down all together, and go into isolation, making connection impossible.

Boundaries bring me into integrity with what is true for me and allow me to honor what I really have to give. Without boundaries, I can easily over-give, over-extend, and burn myself out… That serves no one. Without boundaries I show up, but I am later exhausted or resentful… That gets in the way of relationship.

Boundaries allow you to trust me. You can count on me to say “yes” when I am available and “no” when I am not. You no longer have to worry or wonder about taking care of me. You can trust that I am taking care of myself. Please know that even if I say “no” or “not now,” I still care. I care enough to not give to you when I am not able to.I hope you understand, and I don’t need you to understand.

This isn’t about you. It’s about integrity, truth, and honoring. When I hold a boundary, I honor both you and me… even if it doesn’t feel that way in the moment.

Of course I want people to like me (don't we all?), but I am no longer willing to let that override my love for myself. For too many years I put others first and abandoned myself on a regular basis. This is not sustainable, healthy, or good for either one of us.

With boundaries, we can develop a strong and healthy relationship. I trust you to have other resources and to find your way even when I am not available. I believe in you which is why I don’t have to turn my world upside down to save you. I honor your wisdom, power, and ability to tap into whatever you need to get you through this moment. I know your well-being does not depend on me.

Please understand, I also know how hard it is when someone isn’t available for me when I really feel a need for connection and support. This makes it hard for me to say no when I feel that need coming from you.

And at the same time, I love, respect, and honor those who are able to say no to me even when I say “I could really use a friend…“ This happened once with one of my oldest and dearest friends. It stung in the moment. It was also painful for her, but she felt the truth of having nothing to give. And, it taught me an invaluable lesson and modeled for me what’s possible.

Somehow, she knew that I would be OK even though I felt like I was falling apart in that moment. She knew that even if I didn’t find anyone else to talk to, I was able to be with myself and make it through the deeply painful and awful time.

Here I am…so, clearly, I did. I will never forget that moment. Not because of the pain I felt or because I was angry with my friend, but because she taught me that it is OK to be honest with yourself and with other people, even people you love deeply. It is ok to say, “I don’t have it in me to give you what you need. I don’t have the bandwidth.” Or, simply “No. I’m not available.”

And so, when I am not available, I trust you. I remember that I am not God or 911 and so I can’t expect myself to be the one to save you.

Will I be there when I can? Absolutely! Will I give of myself generously when I’m filled up? Without a doubt. It’s who I am. And yet, in this moment my own health and vitality depends on me saying yes to me. Not splitting myself in two trying to honor me and others. I must begin here, with this vessel, this heart, this being that needs my devotion and care.

Boundaries are an Act of Radical Self-Care

Boundaries are an act of radical self-care. They take courage and awareness to set. They require us to be quiet enough to hear the inner wisdom that guides us.

Boundaries can feel awkward, clumsy, and imperfect as we begin to express them to others. We may worry how they are received until we learn to let go of that worry and begin to trust instead. If a relationship is based on over-giving, is this a relationship worth continuing? The relationships I want are with people who will understand and respect my right to take care of myself.

I’ve got a long and complicated relationship with boundaries. In the past I didn’t know what they were and had a hard time setting them or knowing what they should be.

Boundaries are particularly important when you are in a care-giving role, personally or professionally. If you’re someone people look to and lean into, they will naturally want your support, advice, wisdom, calm, or listening. We owe it to ourselves (and to them) to be honest about our availability and our limits.

Boundaries are about Respect – for Me and for You

Without respect for yourself, it’s nearly impossible to have or honor boundaries. They help me to trust myself and to know that I have my own back. To know that I will listen when I feel a reaction in my body that tells me yes or no, now, later, or, in fact, never.

Boundaries let you and I know what I can do and what I can’t do. More accurately, what I am willing to do and what I am not willing to do. I have proven over the decades that I am more than capable of pushing through and doing more than is reasonable.

After 58 years on this planet, I am no longer willing to live that way. I love and care about so many people. I am pulled in so many directions. I have so much and so many people and things weighing on my mind at any given moment. I take these things on without even being asked. It’s up to me to free myself.

It’s up to me to respect and love myself enough to take the risk to take a stand. It’s up to me to draw a line in the sand and then to dance with that line moment to moment. It’s up to me to learn how to ask the wise questions of myself, to give myself a pause, in order to hear my inner guidance and wisdom. It’s up to me to take care of myself and not expect you to be able to read my mind.

Boundaries are about Compassion

If we are friends or family, I need to trust you and to trust our relationship - to know we will find our way through even when I say no or not now or I won’t. Boundaries empower everyone. They liberate us. They do not have to be harsh. In fact, honest boundaries allow for compassionate, honest conversation and communication.

In this short (and very worth your time to watch) video about boundaries, Brené Brown shares her shock at learning that the most compassionate people she interviewed were also the most boundaried!

Boundaries allow me to honor my heart, soul, and energy. Boundaries are about respect, trust, and integrity. They do not come easily or naturally, and I may forever be on a quest to learn how to do them better. I’m willing to learn because so much depends upon it.

Because I know that my energy, time, and resources are limited, as are my days, I want to love open-heartedly and live as beautifully as possible. With that in mind, boundaries are going to be critical or it’s going to get ugly.

Your Turn

What’s your experience with boundaries?
When and why do you need them?
Are you comfortable setting them?
How does it feel when someone holds one with you?
Have you found a kind and compassionate way to communicate them?
Do they feel important to you?
Are you able and willing to flex with them as circumstances change?

Please share with us! We can learn so much from your insights and experiences!

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"You'll Be Fine..." "You Don't Know That!"

4/29/2022

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Seven years ago, I was scheduled for a needle biopsy. I was scared, and we did not know what the results would show. I didn't care that this was a "routine procedure." I was grateful that not too many people hit me with “You’ll be fine,” because that would have really pissed me off! I was grateful there were people who listened and gave me space to be honest about my fear. It would have felt like a lie in some ways for anyone to say “you’ll be fine.” It would have felt dismissive. It’s a form of toxic positivity. A reflection of their discomfort with my discomfort.

Here's a bit from a post I wrote at the time, “I Know a Woman:” (Hint: I was this woman)
“Right now this woman is having a mini-wakeup call – a small awakening to what could be a new reality for her body. She is so very grateful for the doctor and the people in her life who take time to listen, but don’t venture to offer the false reassurance, “You’ll be fine.” Because we don’t know.  We don’t know what they’ll find. So, please, she asks, let her be in the space of uncertainty, the space of unknowing.

Right now she has a lot of questions.  Does she put her life on hold? Hold her breath till she knows? How does she lovingly support herself through this time? Who can she lean on for support? Who are the people who are really able to be there for her, rather than needing her to comfort and reassure them that she will be “fine;” that it’s “nothing?”

I trust she will be fine one way or the other simply because of her peace, her trust, and her faith that she is living her life as it comes. She will be “fine” because she will face what comes to her with courage, with love, and with the same belief in possibility that she usually has.  And, at times “fine” might include tears, anger, and fear.

…This woman enters these next few weeks of uncertainty wanting to be very real about it, and with as much grace, dignity, and ease as she can muster. She will welcome all of the many feelings and thoughts that may dance through her days.”

How often do we find ourselves not knowing what to say when someone is scared, angry, grieving, or lost? Blurting out things like “You’ll be fine. You’ll get through this. You’ve got this!” Maybe we say these things because we’re afraid too. Or we want to smother the person in comfort, to take away their fear or pain as quickly as possible. Or we want to cheerlead with a strong vote of confidence.

We mean well. We care. We are not bad or insensitive people, and we probably haven’t been taught how to be with uncomfortable emotions. We can do better. Because these messages can leave people feeling even more alone, misunderstood. Sometimes it’s better to do as my friend, Lori, says and take out the duct tape and zip it… just listen. Say nothing. Sometimes there are no words.

When someone you love is struggling or suffering, what would it be like to simply sit with them, allow them to feel what they’re feeling, let it be ok to admit that what’s coming is unknown and scary, and be uncomfortable together?

How do you want people to show up for you in these moments of uncertainty?

Brené Brown has a fantastic short video on Empathy. “Empathy fuels connection. Empathy is feeling with people,” she says. And she highlights what a gift it is when we don’t need to try to make things better.   I highly recommend you take a few minutes right now to watch it and then think about bringing this into your way of being. There are endless opportunities calling for empathy.

This is what the #AtoZChallenge has me wondering about today. What things have people said to you that you wish they hadn’t? What’s been helpful instead? What words or action fuel connection? Which ones leave you feeling more alone?

Want to read another blog about this? I think Kevin Thompson does a nice job in “You Don’t Know that I’ll Be Fine.”

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L - Love Questions

4/14/2022

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What I am LOVING about this #AtoZChallenge is that it’s raising questions about topics I didn’t anticipate questioning… things like hope, kindness, and how we look at and feel about bodies. I love that one friend and reader told me the posts are “like a cup of espresso. They’re waking me up!” She’s been willing to read critically and dive into her own thoughts about certain words and topics. I couldn’t ask for any more than that!

So, with that, let’s dive into some questions I have played with around the idea of love for several years now. These questions change my experience of life and my way of being in it.

Is Love available, even here?
First, from Sufi teacher and business coach, Mark Silver, “Is Love available, even here?” This is a profound question to ask ourselves when we are facing desperate and painful times in our own lives or when we look at catastrophes in the world. Is Love available, even here? Can you find it, feel it, access it? Might Love be at play even when times seem the bleakest? What’s the opportunity?
I recently talked with a friend who is grieving the dying of a beloved pet. It hurts so deeply to let go of those we love so dearly. And yet, we know that death is part of life. The more we love, the more it will hurt. So how might we use our alive time to honor walking alongside someone at the end of their life?

I suggested that there was a gift in knowing that the end is near (and also gave her permission to tell me to F off because I know it doesn’t feel like a gift in this moment)… that she has time to spend with this animal, to let it know all it’s meant to her, to do some ceremony around saying goodbye, even when she doesn’t want to say goodbye. How can we weave love into our living days with those we love, whether the end is near or not?

'"Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."
~ Alfred Lord Tennyson

Loving someone who struggles with substance use disorder can lead to a chaotic existence… there can be a lot of anger, blame, shame, and broken trust. Things can get ugly and painful in a deeply wounding way. Is Love available even here? Even as relationships are torn apart, words spoken that can’t be taken back, and fear rules the day. Can we remember the essence of this person, the bond that brought us together, and if it’s our child, the bond that runs deep and may be non-negotiable? Can we find enough ground within ourselves and get enough support to bring Love to the situation? Can we trust in a Divine Love surrounding us, even in the hardest moments?

What does Love look like?
Through my journey with my son’s substance use disorder, I’ve struggled to find the Love many times, getting caught up in the human messiness more often than I’d like to admit. I’ve also had to redefine what Love looks like, what love means, and what a loving mother is or does.

We have ideas growing up (or at least I did) about these things. In my case I believed a loving mother was kind, gentle, caring, nurturing, and never got angry… at anyone, but especially not at her children (anger was a “Wait til your father gets home” situation). This was not a healthy foundation for me to step into the reality of parenting, and I am grateful for the counselor who early on challenged my belief that I would never get angry with my child and gave me permission for this very natural human response.

Active addiction stirs up lots of anger along with exhaustion which is a recipe for disaster. It can be hard to find or feel the love. And, in the moments I get good support, care for myself, and have some practices to find my center, I can love my son in a different way. I’ve learned that loving my young adult son is different from loving my baby or little boy, and that I can no longer mend all of his wounds or keep him safe. I’ve learned that love shines through in clear boundaries communicated in a straightforward way, and that love also allows us not to be rigid. When love enters in there is room to determine what feels right and doable in this moment. Love doesn’t always say “yes,” but it doesn’t always have to say “no” either.

When I am the loving mother I desire to be, I walk alongside my sons. I see them for the beautiful people they are. I listen to them and allow them to guide their own journeys. I honor their uniqueness and that each of us have our own journey. I take care of myself and know that my life is most certainly affected by theirs, but it is not determined by theirs. I remember that there is love for them and also love for me, and that when I love and honor myself, I am better able to love and honor them. I no longer believe that a good mother sacrifices herself for her kids. I also love myself enough to allow for and expect imperfections along the way.

What would Love do?
Perhaps my favorite question of all, which I believe I first heard from Elizabeth Gilbert (but I can’t confirm because I often don’t remember for sure), is “What would Love (with a capital L) do?”
Oh, man! Such a great question! And, here’s why… because what Love would do is so often different than what my little pissed off, resentful, hurting human self would do. Now Love still wouldn’t sacrifice me or encourage me to save someone else, because Love knows that’s not my job. Love wouldn’t ask me to do more than is reasonable or to suffer abuse.

However, Love would reach deep and find compassion. Compassion would allow me to consider another person’s point of view. Love helps me to see the humanity and soul of another being, no matter what I see on the surface. Love helps me to show up to the world from a softer place.
When Love is our intention, our guiding light, when Love is how we want to live in the world, how does that change our words, actions, and way of being with one another?

So, I leave you to consider: Is Love available, even here? What does Love look like? And, What would Love do?

What questions do you have about Love? Please share in the comments! I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts!

A little musical inspiration for you - Love Wins

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Bodies, Bumps, and Bulges (Oh My!)

4/2/2022

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The questions that come up for me as I think about bodies and how we relate to our own and others are numerous… Why are some bumps and bulges good (and to be highlighted, enhanced, pumped up, and shown off) and some bad (to be squeezed to death, hidden away in shame, or to feel embarrassed about or apologize for).

As I walked along the beach in Hilton Head, I took a scientific stance… observing and taking mental notes about this topic. Please know these are not my own ideas or judgments, though I surely have been conditioned to believe some of them.

As I share them, I invite, beg, plead with you to question each and every one of them… let’s break these ideas and find a kinder, gentler way of compassion, acceptance, and appreciation!

But, from a simplistic observation, here’s what the common understandings and agreements seem to be:

boob bulges are good, show them off…
belly bulges (at least on women) bad,
butt bulges good – bring on the thongs and let those cheeks out! (unless you’re old, and then, please get the skirt suit!)
thigh bulges gross, especially if they also happen to be dimply and then they should be suctioned
lip bulges good and maybe they should even be injected

And, so I’m confused. So much of this depends on age and gender identity. Kid bellies are adorable! Pregnant bellies are adorned and adored. Guys can pat their beer bellies and chuckle…

Yet, most of the time, women better cover up any extra lumps or bulges. Or squeeze the life out of them – have you ever tried these torture devices meant to contain a body that wants to flop around? No thank you!

There are also cultural preferences. If I had been born in a different place and time, there are certainly other characteristics I’d be judged for and longing for. Which would suggest there is no right or wrong body, wouldn’t it? That maybe we could let go of these ideas of too big, too small, too grey, too wrinkly, saggy, or bulgy… Wouldn’t that be amazing!?

And so, I find myself wondering… when did I learn to judge every bit of this body of mine and who taught me to hate the belly I now have and wish for the flat one that was here when I was 20. Why do I think it’s reasonable to expect this body that has carried me for almost 6 decades, birthed and fed two babies and then cared for them as they grew, held the stress of the terrifying and uncertain times… to look like it did in the days of my youth?

Who taught me the numbers on the scale would lead to a good or bad day? That buying a pair of pants with a certain number on the tag was to be dreaded and avoided? That I should count calories or points? Deprive myself or push myself to try to sculpt a certain desired (and possibly unattainable) shape? Think that I should look like the woman over there who’s built entirely different from me? Believe that she’s more desirable because she fits some preconceived norm?

What would it be like to truly act in a loving and kind way toward this body that is the only one I have in its current iteration? What would it be like to not look at myself in the mirror or in a photo and name something that I hate about so many bits of me? What would it be like to move through a day without excessive thoughts about how I look or how others see me, about what or how much I should or shouldn’t eat?

What if, instead, we could honor the body that we have. The one that’s lived through whatever it’s lived through in this life? What if, we could accept that bodies come in all shapes and sizes, and appreciate this diversity among us?

I recently joined an Intuitive Eating program and was horrified to see how often my thoughts go to food, body, or weight, more often than not in an unkind and judgmental way. I am not a person who has gone from diet to diet throughout my life or who deprives myself of the pleasure of the food I enjoy. BUT, what I have noticed is the pervasive thoughts that I should be doing it differently. Even as I’m eating something delicious, the narrative, “Oh, you’re being BAD” is running…

In this moment, I’m really not liking what I see when I look in the mirror or what I feel when I put on my clothes. Not usually a fan of “fake it til you make it,” I’m trying to do that with this idea of meeting myself where I am. I’m even wearing a shirt that says “Be Kind” while the thoughts running through my mind are anything but. And, I want to make some changes (but clearly not badly enough). I want to do that from a kind place, with gentleness and compassion. Harsh and cruel aren’t the way.

I find myself now in a place of simply trying to be ok with the body I have so that I can work with it. Trying to establish a genuinely trusting and loving relationship with this vessel that houses me so that I can know when it’s hungry or full, what will truly be nourishing in this moment. When it needs rest and when it needs to move. What works for it, today, in this reality of who I am?

It’s not easy in a world where the cultural messaging is strong and omnipresent… and damaging. Ideas about body image are intense, and they keep us from liking or loving ourselves. They lead us to do things to our bodies that are harmful.

Going back to my A post about Answers – I wish someone had taught each of us to find our own way, to be ok with who we are, and to respect the differences among us.

Are you at peace with your body?

If so, I’m really happy for you! Please let us know how you’ve gotten to this point. How have you worked with your mind and heart along the way to feel ok, good, or great about how you look and feel? I’m very much a novice and work in progress in this area.

I’m going to begin with sending loving kindness to each part of my body, intentionally appreciating them for what they do for me… these (big) feet and legs for carrying me through my days, this (big) belly for housing all the digestive organs that nourish and fuel me, that brought two babies into this world, …

OK, OK, that was a rough start… I’ll go back and take out the judgment and begin again with a genuine loving offering to my feet, my legs, my heart, my internal organs, my brain, arms, and hands, my eyes and ears… there are so many miracles here. Let me pause to appreciate that just for a minute. Seriously…
Here's a recording to Loving Kindness for the Body meditation if you'd like to join me.

This post sent me into quite a spiral after writing it. How about you? What does it bring up? Share in the comments below and let's learn and grow together! #AtoZchallenge

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Forgetting How to Hurry

3/21/2022

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Transitioning, Adjusting, Reflecting…

We got back home last Monday evening, and I wanted to share with you some reflections as I'm slowly transitioning from what life has been like for the past 2 ½ months into “typical home life.” It's kind of fascinating to witness myself as if looking in from the outside. I've lived in this house for 4 ½ years and in this area most of my life, and yet I feel as if I'm meeting myself here anew this week.

Since January I've had no appointments to drive to, no people to connect with in person, and lots and lots of 1:1 time with Tom (my hubby). We've both worked virtually during that time - I have met with clients and participated in a number of trainings and professional development, but there's something different about getting back from the beach or out of the shower in time for a phone or Zoom call than having to get in a car to drive somewhere. Also, I have only driven about 5 times in the past 10 weeks! Life has had a sweet and simple rhythm and flow.

Now I'm moving back into our more typical way of being… as soon as we got home, I had to rush to eat my supper while Tom unloaded the car before I jumped into a 4 hour training. Our drifting into our own little worlds was already underway.

He brought all the stuff in and, exhausted from two full days of travel, we both agreed to leave bags and boxes to be dealt with later. I did notice how much easier it is to unpack and settle into the rental home than it is to unpack and settle back into our own space. In part because I have to fit all the traveling stuff into all the other stuff that's here. I have been very struck by a sense of “too much stuff…” Going into a rental condo is different - in that scenario we are adding ourselves into the space, finding places to make it our own, to create comfort and flow.

Forgetting How to Hurry…
By bedtime I couldn't sleep because my mind was still stirring and my body was uncomfortable and there was noise that disrupted me. I didn't sleep well and I woke up the next morning needing to get ready for a 10:30 appointment. As I began my preparations I recognized that I had forgotten how to hurry. That was both delightful (and something I want to remember to forget) and a little concerning because I did actually have to drive 30 minutes to get to my chiropractor.

Following the Heart and Soul…
Thankfully I moved quickly enough while still at a pace that worked for me to make it on time. In the waiting room I ran into a friend who told me how she and her husband had fairly rapidly followed a long-time dream and were moving to Florida! After starting to look at properties, within a month they had found and bought a house that meets both of their needs and desires, sold theirs (within 5 days after 60+ showings and 30+ offers…for a lot more money than asking price) and things are coming together beautifully.

Seeing her joy and sense of freedom reminded me what it's like to follow the call of the heart and soul! It's how I left my job and started my practice, how we ended up here in this house on the water, and how we've now wintered down South for 3 years! It seems that sometimes when you say “yes” and genuinely feel all in, there's a whoosh of energy that gets things flowing. It's not magic, but it certainly can be magical! It was nice to feel that in her and to share in her celebration!

Perspective and compassion
You might remember me griping about the “yelling people” downstairs who were definitely adding some stress and angst to our days and nights in Hilton Head. When we left I wrote a card to mail to them and resisted the temptation to be snarky or mean. Instead I simply offered them an anonymous loving kindness wish: “May you be peaceful. May you be happy. May you be safe. May you be healthy. May you live with ease" along with an invitation to embrace the beautiful moments in this new day. I'm not sure why I felt called to do that, but I did. Seeing this young family with 3 or 4 little ones crammed into such a small space did give me some compassion and I knew I had no idea what was going on in their life.

I had mentioned to our hosts that we might not be back because of the frequent yelling and screaming. Our host checked into the situation and discovered that this family were relatives of the owners who were staying there because they were unable to return to their home in Guatemala due to Covid restrictions. Whew… that could add a certain level of stress, couldn't it!? So glad I had sent loving kindness and not nastiness!

Just a good reminder that we never know what other people are going through and that extending love and compassion is always the best choice.

Transitioning and Adjusting
My whole being is happier and more relaxed when there is sunshine and warmth, so coming back to this grey bleak time of year is a little tough. I am very much appreciating a friend's picture posts of her trip to Hawaii and can feel the longing in my own soul for that vibrant color of flowers and water. I've lived here mostly forever, but each year I find myself less and less tolerant of the cold and grey (hence the whole wintering away!).

As I move through the house, I'm finding myself having to pause and remember where are the glasses? where do I put these clothes? What DO I eat for breakfast in the cooler weather? And I'm also assessing as I put things away, “Do you deserve to take up precious space in this little home?” I'm throwing things away and gathering clothes to donate. I can feel a strong desire for Spring cleaning and purging! I even organized the junk drawer in the bathroom and cleaned the shelves in the cabinet before unpacking and adding in what has come back with us.

Even though I am back home, it's an adjustment. Even though we are always in transition, these moments feel particularly clunky as I settle back in. I am meeting myself where I am in this moment, gently, carefully discerning with each appointment, are you someone I want to continue to work with? Do I need appointments as often as I did before? What feels right to me in this season of my life?

As I feel the “too muchness” in so many ways and the longing for spaciousness, for color, fresh air, and sunshine, for slowing down, I am choosing carefully how to spend my time. For instance, this evening I chose a walk with Tom over joining a group I love on Zoom - my soul just needed to get out there on this 62 degree day when the sun was out! Rhythms and routines are different here. We're finding our way. The kindness I promised myself this week is to not overwhelm my schedule and to unpack slowly and gradually while I also tend to the things that have to get done.

Good thing I forgot how to hurry! I am going to do my best to hold onto that. I look forward to less frenzy and more flow. (We listened to a great podcast on our drive home with Brene Brown and Dr. Shawn Ginwright which touches on this idea - you can listen to that here if you'd like)

And I offer you this poem, which has sometimes been used to pressure people to do more. I think actually the real intent and invitation is to do less… “to be idle and blessed,"… to not miss the simple pleasures and delights of an ordinary day.

The Summer Day
by Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean--
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down--
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
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?

This week's meditation is Forgetting How to Hurry, and it includes a reading of “The Rat Race” from 111 Invitations: Step into the Full Richness of Life. May it support you in taking a brief pause in your day.

More thoughts (and still seeking your input)! Blogging A-to-Z Challenge:
Thank you to those who shared some ideas with me for this challenge! I'm in! (I even bought the t-shirt so it's official!). Every day in the month of April, except Sundays, I will post a theme-related blog based on the letter of the day.

The working title for my theme is Question (Almost) Everything! Inspired by Kate Bowler’s Everything Happens for a Reason and Other Lies I’ve Loved, I thought it might be fun to live into some questions – to look at our conditioning, the stories, actions, and beliefs we’ve bought into and why we do and say some of these things. Who taught us to believe this, where and when did we pick up this idea, and what might we choose instead?

What do you think? What questions do you have that I might explore? What conditioning are you curious about? What belief, cultural narrative, actions, or simple pithy sayings drive you crazy? Send me a note and let me know, please! I'll need some help coming up with something for every letter! And for some letters I have multiple ideas, so if this goes well, who knows? Could become an ongoing thing!

The blogs will be posted on my blog and will only be emailed to people who choose to receive them. Thanks to those who have already subscribed to this special list. Email me if you too would like to receive these A to Z posts!

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Good Grief, Gratitude, and Grace

1/7/2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inconceivable
by Barb Klein from 111 Invitations

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

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

Anguish
Sadness
Confusion
Loss

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

Perspective comes
in these moments
of grief.

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

Knowing not what we need
or how anyone can help.

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

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

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Mindful Self-Compassion - A Practice Worth Practicing

10/19/2021

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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What Being in Recovery Means to Me

9/16/2021

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Young man (my son) dressed in Senior Ball suit kissing woman (me) in front of a tree

Me and my son 10 years ago (still one of my favorite moments that captures our joy and love)

September is National Recovery Month!

Recovery is possible for people with substance use disorder and for their families! And those things are not dependent on one another.

I am a family member in long-term recovery from the effects of my son’s substance use disorder.

What that means to me is that I have found a way to recover, reclaim, and live my life, while also loving my son. It means that my happiness, peace of mind, and well-being do not depend on his. It means I have accepted that we are separate individuals each walking our own journey and I can honor our paths and our bond. I am grateful to walk alongside him and for the depth of love this journey has brought forward for us.

It means that I am committed to living life fully, to embracing my days and showing up for my life, even on days when my son has struggled...even on days when I am struggling. It means taking it one moment at a time, one step at a time. It means that I have practices that help me to practice self-care and to be mindfully present - which means that I meet myself where I am honestly - some days are better than others. I am devoted to true self care as I define it: to be true to and gentle with myself one moment at a time.

It means remembering who I am and who he is before and beyond this disease. It means moving toward who we may become as we each heal and grow.

It means I have met some of the most amazing, sensitive, creative, wise, impactful , intuitive, generous and loving people who are on their own journey of recovery. They show me what’s possible and have opened my eyes and heart to the people they are beyond substance use disorder.

It means that I am committed to using the pain, lessons, love, compassion, and growth I have experienced to support others in their recovery, both family members and individuals.

It also means that I will join with other recovery advocates to break the silence and shatter the stigma around substance use disorder and call for love and compassion toward those impacted.
#recoverymonth #recoveryispossible
#familiesrecover

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A Fresh Take on Self-Care

7/27/2021

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Self-care is a phrase that’s tossed around everywhere these days and it’s being used in some ways to make people feel like they’re not good enough or like they’re falling short in some area of life. It’s being used as a way that can people feel more anxious as they track steps or minutes of meditation. It often feels like one more thing on an already overflowing to-do list or one more expense in a budget stretched thin.

Self-care is not something we were taught as children and many of us were encouraged to put others’ needs before our own. And yet, self-care is the foundation for anything else you want to do in life. If you’re not caring for yourself, it’s unsustainable to go on for long without finding yourself exhausted, depleted, grumpy, resentful, or burnt out. If you want to contribute to the greater good, you first need to be well resourced and filled up.

So, what do I mean when I say “self-care?” What’s my working definition of this idea I have been exploring, practicing, and teaching for the past 8 years?

For years I have worked with Renee Trudeau’s definition, “Self-care is the art of attuning and responding to your needs and desires, moment by moment.”

I love this definition because it makes it clear that it’s not something that we come by naturally – it’s something we learn and practice and become better at the more we work at it. It is an art. There’s a beauty to it.

The idea of “attuning and responding” is critical, because lots of times we KNOW what our needs are, but we don’t take the time to respond to them. We skip meals, over-riding the hunger cues that come and eventually go, to keep on working. We never go to the bathroom during the day despite an obvious need for that simple relief. We ignore the need to rest or sleep or the need for a break to refresh the mind… We know… we know what we need to do differently, and we can do a much better job of responding to what we know. We can become a trustworthy ally to ourselves when we begin to listen inwardly and respond accordingly.

“Moment by moment” is also key because it reminds us that self-care isn’t something that only happens at the scheduled appointments or classes. It’s not something we will get to once a week or once a month. It’s something we can offer ourselves throughout each day, in each moment, when we are tuned in to ourselves.

For the past 8 years I have worked deeply with self-care. It’s amazed me how vast the concept is and how my understanding of it has deepened and expanded as I work with it, embody it, bring it into my daily life. It continues to grow in relevance and meaning. Mostly I have learned that self-care isn’t so much about what you do as how you are with yourself. It’s about cultivating a loving commitment to yourself. It’s about coming home to yourself and having that home be a safe, kind, and welcoming place.

In simplest terms, here’s what resonates with me at this moment:

“Self-care: Being true to and gentle with yourself, one moment at a time.”
~ Barb Klein

Being true to yourself means honoring yourself, the needs of your body, mind, heart, and spirit, knowing what works for you and what doesn’t (because, let’s face it, not everything is a good fit for everyone), knowing what your boundaries and limits are (moment by moment), and knowing what your capacity is and what’s sustainable for you.

Being true to yourself means saying “no” when that’s what you mean, even if that might mean disappointing someone else. Being true to yourself means stepping away when you need some quiet time, even if people might want you around. Being true to yourself means following teachers who resonate with what feels right inside your heart and gut and not letting yourself get talked into something just because someone says you should. Being true means trusting your intuition, your inner hunches and knowing and following your sparks of inspiration. These are just some ways we can be true to ourselves. It is so freeing the more true we are!

For example, I have been down on myself about my weight… the “Covid 15” is real in this body. I was revisiting the idea of trying the South Beach diet again (which I did years ago with some success and subsequent weight gain), eliminating sugar (and maybe a bunch of other stuff) which immediately throws me into a need to chow down on all the things I think I’m not going to eat again – deprivation mode… does not work for me. It also doesn’t work for me to be beating myself up, calling myself harsh words, or feeling guilty or ashamed for how I look, that my clothes don’t fit any more, or for what I eat. Enter the idea to “be gentle with yourself.” I realized that most of the diet tactics I’ve tried don’t work for me and that they all feel pretty aggressive and harsh… I needed to find something that allowed me to be true to myself.

I am so grateful I pulled out the book Eat to Love by Jenna Hollenstein (who, in addition to being an anti-diet dietitian who helps people struggling with chronic dieting, disordered eating, and body image, was also one of my meditation instructor teachers and someone I trust and respect). With the support of this book I am taking a much more gentle approach in regards to food, eating, and my body. Through the book, Jenna is helping me learn to trust my body’s wisdom, tune into its signals for hunger and fullness, as well as respect what and when I want to eat. I am realizing how conditioned I have been to not trust and honor my own body. It’s refreshing to begin to love myself in a new way.

Being gentle with yourself means that we recognize that being harsh or punitive is rarely motivating and that beating ourselves up only wears us down. Being gentle means treating ourselves with grace and compassion, letting go of the idea of perfection, and offering the same love and care that we would offer to those we love and care about. When you are gentle with yourself, you have permission to try something and decide you don’t like it. You can play with things, experimenting to discover what works for you and what doesn’t. You can adapt your practices to fit the reality of your life day by day rather than holding onto rigid expectations. You can bring in a lighthearted approach to the way you move through life.

One moment at a time is the best way I’ve found to approach life. When I remember it (key notation!), it allows me to stay in the present, to not get too far ahead of myself in projected stories or ideas of how things are going to turn out. It allows me to face what’s here and to respond based on what’s true for me in this moment. It allows me to avoid overwhelm by taking on too much at once.

We only need to deal with this moment, right here, right now. That doesn’t mean we don’t think about the future consequences of our choices… but it does mean that we only need to make the choices that are before us now. It means we can adjust… we can change our minds or our course as needed. We don’t need to try to take on the next week or year or twenty years all at once. One moment, one breath, one choice at a time, we treat ourselves with respect and gentle loving care.

Self-care is an ongoing practice
When we remember that self-care is an ongoing practice…not something you do and check off your list as done or mastered, we can be gentle with ourselves when we forget what we know or when we don’t do what we wish we had. One moment at a time reminds us that we can choose differently in that next moment. The number of fresh starts we can take is unlimited.

Your turn:

What are your thoughts? How do you define self-care? How are you true to and gentle with yourself? What gets in your way? Please share! Let’s learn and grow together.

**Sidenote: If you’re interested in finding out more about being true to your body and trusting its wisdom, I invite you to check out the book Eat to Love and Jenna’s website. Also, Glennon Doyle and her sister, Amanda, had a recent episode on “Our Bodies: Why are we at war with them and can we ever make peace? “ on their We Can Do Hard Things podcast which was a refreshing exploration of this topic.

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The Cruelty of Skin Suits... and Radical Love

5/18/2021

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Skin Suits, pain, and grief...
In the show “The Good Place,” the leaders of the Bad Place devise ways to torture people. Perhaps their most cruel tactic was what they called “skin suits.” The torturers were hidden inside the body of someone you loved so that you’d be fooled into thinking they were safe, loving, there for you… and then they’d do something awful to you. You’d feel that internal confusion of “who are you? Why are you doing this to me? I don’t even recognize you…”

And it struck me how much this reflects what it’s like to love someone consumed by mental illness, substance or alcohol use, or dementia. On the outside the person still looks like our person, but on the inside, they’re not really there. We look into their eyes trying to connect, but we just can’t find them. They act in ways that the person we know and love never would. They do things that are hurtful to themselves and to us.

It’s sad and it’s lonely and it’s a unique form of grief to mourn the loss of someone who is still alive. To love this person deeply. To not have had a chance to say goodbye. To have moments of connection and clarity which bring with them a bit of hope… and then to have that hope crushed to the point where you don’t dare to feel it again.

Radical Love
What can we do when the person we see is so unfamiliar to us? So far from the person we’ve known them to be? Lost, even to themselves? We can turn to radical love. The love that carries us through impossible times and takes us to unimaginable places.

The terms “radical acceptance” and “radical empathy” have been shared in recent trainings. Tara Brach has written books titled, Radical Acceptance and Radical Compassion, so these radical terms are floating around, perhaps more and more frequently and more and more in a positive way.

What’s “Radical" All About?
So, let’s get curious… what is this “radical” all about?   Before I look it up (which I will), what comes to mind is a sense of extreme (it’s often connected to not such positive groups). In these cases of acceptance, compassion, empathy, and love which all represent qualities of kindness and care, it speaks to the times we show up in ways and at times we couldn’t believe possible. It speaks to a love that binds us even when our loved one doesn’t recognize us or isn’t available to connect with us in the way we long for. This, to me, is radical love.

Radical love holds you while you sit in the Emergency Room waiting room with your loved one in mental health crisis, feeling both the judgmental stares and the averted glances, feeling invisible and oh too visible all at once. Radical love walks with you through the razor wire fences to sit in the barren room on a cold hard plastic chair to visit with your child under the watchful eye of a correctional officer. Radical love breaks your heart open and brings tears at the smallest act of kindness in an unexpected place. It drives across country with you to visit your parent as they plot their escape from the memory care unit, and it helps you to feel both the sadness and the humor all at once.

Radical love allows you to see the humanity in the homeless person shuffling down the street. Radical love makes the sandwich that you hand to her, without judgment in your eyes. Radical love shows up to serve those who are too often overlooked and misunderstood.

Radical Love Reminds You That You Too Matter…
Radical love also reminds you that you too matter. That your well-being and sanity are worthy of your tender care. That it is ok to take a break, to take a breath, to tend to yourself. Radical love lifts the phone out of your hand, turns it off, and tucks you in so that you can get the rest you need to face the crisis that surely awaits. Radical love reminds you that it’s unsustainable to be all things to all people all the time, so it quietly lifts your cape from your shoulders and brings you a cup of tea.

Why is this love radical? Because we’re conditioned to make sure everyone else is ok, especially the people we love, especially when they are suffering or struggling. We’re not told that we too have needs or that even in the midst of heartache and despair you can also enjoy some time with a friend or dance with true joy or meditate in the forest.

Society tells us “You’re only as happy as your unhappiest child.” Or “You have to do something…” even if there’s really nothing you can do. Our beliefs keep us going even when we have nothing left to give. Radical love is needed to remind us that we’re no good to anyone if we’re depleted. It calls us to gentle ourselves and to forgive ourselves when we couldn’t make someone else change, when we couldn’t save a life. Radical love requires radical self-compassion as well as compassion and empathy for others.

The expert’s voice…
I promised I'd look it up, and I did. Merriam Webster defines radical as “very different from the usual or traditional: extreme.” I wonder what it will take for these acts of empathy, love, and compassion to become more usual or commonplace. I hope we can be part of this shift in a world that is crying for more of these qualities.

In her book, Radical Acceptance, Tara Brach describes it as “the cultivation of mindfulness and compassion.” She goes on to say that “Radical Acceptance reverses our habit of living at war with experiences that are unfamiliar, frightening or intense. It is the necessary antidote to years of neglecting ourselves, years of judging and treating ourselves harshly, years of rejecting this moment’s experience. Radical Acceptance is the willingness to experience ourselves and our life as it is.”

In Radical Compassion, she says it “…means including the vulnerability of this life – all life – in our heart. It means having the courage to love ourselves, each other, and our world. Radical compassion is rooted in mindful, embodied presence, and it is expressed actively through caring that includes all beings.” She writes, “I have to love myself into healing. The only path that can carry me home is the path of self-compassion.” How beautiful is that... loving ourselves into healing!

Today’s Invitation:
Today I invite you to explore these ideas for yourself… radical compassion, radical acceptance, radical empathy, and radical love. Let’s be EXTREME with scattering these ways of being. Where can you bring them into your world? What changes within you and in your experience when you do? How does it feel to approach yourself, others, and life from a radically kinder stance? I've recorded this meditation as a way to support you in stepping into this.

When you next encounter someone you care about and find they’re wearing a skin suit, see if you can look beneath the surface to find the soul within and love them anyway. It isn’t personal. They’re just not able to be who you know them to be in this moment. Maybe your remembering will help them to remember who they are one day… maybe your love will help you remember who you are.

Please let us know your thoughts and experiences. Let’s learn and grow together in a radical way!

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