Inspired Possibility Blog

Love IS Tough!

8/1/2022

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

Whether it’s love for a child, partner, family member, friend, or ourselves. Staying IN relationship is almost always harder than walking away. Being willing to have the tough conversations, to admit our hurt or misunderstanding, to ask “what happened? What did you experience?” and share what’s going on for us, however imperfectly the words might fall out of your mouth.

Personally, I almost always bumble my words in real time. They don’t come out nearly as coherently or smoothly as they sounded in my head when I am face to face with this person with whom I’m having some kind of struggle. I didn’t grow up learning how to express my anger or hurt or how to ask for what I need.

I grew up hiding from conflict, avoiding it like the plague. Love and anger did not compute – in my mind they negated one another. I couldn’t be angry with someone I loved. If they were angry with me, that must mean our relationship is over. Anger has always been a little scary for me – mine as well as others. The silent treatment riles me up - I sometimes provoke just to get some kind of interaction going, even if it isn’t pretty.

Love, my friends, is tough. It’s so much easier (in some ways) to ice someone out, cut them off, be “done” with them. Walk away and stop trying to mend what’s been damaged or heal the hurt.
It takes effort to be willing to muddle through a conversation when both of you are hurting and/or upset. As we learn to take good care of ourselves it can be hard to figure out how to do that AND stay in relationship, honoring that we both have needs and at times those needs might be in conflict.
It takes learning new ways to wait and new ways to communicate in order to reconnect after there’s been a mishap. It’s painful. It’s often ugly, and may involve some tissues, some big sighs, some exasperated gestures or voices. It’s tricky to stay out of defensive posture, hear the other person, while also sharing our thoughts and feelings.

Self-compassion is also critical, as I tend to beat myself up, imagining what a terrible person I must be if this person I love is so upset. I hate hurting people and would far rather blame myself than someone I love. Self-love can be tough.

If we are wise, we allow time and space for each person to think things through, to look at our own stuff, to feel what’s bubbling within us, before we try to come together. However, in the silence, alone with our thoughts, we conjure up stories that may be far worse than what’s really going on. Someone avoids us or doesn’t take our calls, and we give it all sorts of meanings. How quickly we go from sadness and hurt to fear to “F@#& you!” depends on our own personal boiling point or how often we’ve been abandoned before.

I do not believe in “tough love” as too often prescribed for families and friends of loved ones who struggle with mental health issues like substance use, eating disorders, or other problematic behaviors. No, I don’t. These people are already hurting and misunderstood enough. Trust me, they pile onto their own suffering and adding to it is not going to help them heal or change. Just, no.

But I do know love is tough. Hanging in there in a way that works for you as well as the other person is tough. We fall in love with our babies and our partners so easily, we may not grasp the reality of the work and care required to stay in relationship with these people as we all grow and change.

I am discovering the gift in the relationships that require extensive work. Each time we make it through another round or problem, we deepen our connection. We add to the evidence that we will last. We learn to trust the relationship, and we remember (at least for a minute) not to take it or this person for granted.

Love is tough. It requires a willingness to be clumsy, a commitment to be honest, an ability to show up and speak up, even when it’s uncomfortable. The ability to take a risk because the relationship matters. It requires that we show up fully and authentically – not pretending that all is ok until we somehow get beyond whatever happened. True friendships and deep relationships require honesty and for each of us to be true to ourselves. I am not interested in superficial connections. I want to dive deep with my people. Diving deep is going to get messy at times.

It's tough. And in the end, it is so worth it. As we grow together, we learn more about one another. If I can begin to look at you and really know and accept that your behaviors make sense (based on your history, your personality, your style, your way of thinking and being), I can more easily accept you and make room for our differences. I can appreciate that we are not the same, and that’s ok. Hopefully you will learn a bit about my wounds, my triggers, my reactions, and my messed-up thinking as we talk things out. We will both realize that everyone acts like an ass at times… including me and including you.

I don’t have to take it all on. Relationships are made up of people. Whatever is going on here, we’ve created it together. We may not have meant to – things are often not personal or intentional, but here we are.

How do we find our way back to the surface to begin again? Together. One moment and one breath at a time. Through reaching out and asking or inviting a conversation. Through allowing space and time for that green light moment to reveal itself. Through finding “our way,” which may not be entirely yours or entirely mine. Getting beyond a need to blame or punish – ourself or the other. Remembering our heart connection and coming with deep compassion and an open heart so that we can reconnect.

Love is tough. It’s not always sunshine and rainbows. It requires deep vulnerability, the courage to say “I am sorry. I was wrong. I wish that hadn’t happened. I don’t ever want to hurt you" (but I likely will if you stick around long enough, because, hey… I’m human and so are you).

Love is not always laughter and joy, even when we think it should be. Life is always happening, and in the end, love is tough...so it endures. Love is the way.

**PLEASE NOTE: Not all relationships are healthy or worth fighting for - if you are being abused in any way, please get the help and support you need to take care of yourself and keep yourself safe.**

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Feeling Blah...

7/13/2022

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I don’t know about you, but I seem to cycle through phases of feeling energized, very on purpose, in flow, and then dropping into “What is the point of it all? Why do we do what we do? What is my purpose? Do I even have a purpose, or is this all for nothing? Who am I?”

It’s pretty unsettling and disorienting in the floundering times that hold such big, heavy questions. I think it’s pretty natural. My counselor says it’s ok, so that reassures me. There will be times of feeling blah, needing to turn inward, to shut out the world, to give more to myself than to others. It’s called nourishment, nurturing, true self care, and it’s vital to our sustainability as humans.

The world is a lot right now. Whatever might be going on personally, we each need to add multipliers to it that are weighing on us, consciously or not. The pandemic goes on, the debate about the pandemic goes on, injustice, violence, discrimination, threats to life and liberty are everywhere. Maybe the world is always a lot. I’m feeling the accumulation of it pretty heavily right now, along with the collective weight of years of personal stuff.

So, there’s been a bit of blah lately. Not a lot of energy or motivation. A strong desire to pull in, to slow down, to quiet down, to say “no” and to not be too available to others. The clarity is strong, and the good news is I’m listening despite the inner struggle that wonders if that’s really ok or if I’m at risk of becoming a hermit.

I teeter between telling myself it’s ok and wondering if that’s really true. Mostly, I’m leaning into only doing what I want, what feels doable and reasonable given my current bandwidth, letting go of, or rescheduling non-essentials, releasing things that feel like more hassle than they’re worth. As I write this it feels like a pretty healthy approach. It just seems that I need this more and more these days, years, months. Didn’t I just give myself a little sabbatical last year? I did. And this year.

And now I need one again in the form I am able to create it – I will gladly see my clients, I will co-facilitate my group, I will continue to write… and I will put off things that do not call to me or do not need to happen. I will cancel memberships to groups I don’t participate in – I feel the low-level pressure when I’m not being honest with myself.

I showed up for yoga class on Sunday and thankfully the theme was tuning into and trusting our inner guidance. Love when that happens! So, as I practiced, I took a few notes.

Here’s what I took away – what I was reminded of:

We all have inner wisdom, inner guidance, inner authority.
When we are depleted, overwhelmed, stressed, or in crisis or survival mode, we lose touch with it.
To connect with it we need to be willing to feel. This may be why we over-busy ourselves or find other ways to numb or distract ourselves. It can be uncomfortable to feel what our inner wisdom is telling us.
Escaping, distracting, and numbing take us away from our natural connection with our inner knowing. Work, alcohol, substances, food, activities, social media, our devices, and over-giving to others serve this purpose. This purpose of protecting us from the discomfort.
Integrity comes from living in alignment with our inner knowing and guidance.
Slowing down, coming into breath and body helps. Quieting down. Connecting to something larger than ourselves through prayer, meditation, or getting out in nature helps. Opening up space, breathing room allows us to hear and see more clearly.
There are going to be these moments when we feel unsure. When we feel like we are flailing, lost, and confused. Times when we release the last version of ourselves and our lives to step into what’s next. In between steps there is often a pause – a time to cocoon in order to transform. It’s not always pretty or comfortable. It’s worth going there anyway.
To fully experience the richness of this human life, we need to be willing to feel it all and to be with ourselves in these moments of not knowing, of discomfort, of questioning. When we can be with ourselves in these times, come home to our heart and soul for guidance, we allow ourselves to grow and become. It isn’t flashy or pretty until it is. Think caterpillar to goo to beautiful butterfly. We too are like this. We just need to give ourselves permission to go into the darkness, to huddle up, to rest, to integrate, to release any need to perform or prove as we become.

The vastness of the ocean, the immensity of a redwood, the expansiveness of a canyon can take us away and beyond our own smallness to help us connect with the sense that something larger is at play. In these spaces we can feel both our own insignificance and our interconnection to all things on earth. We can find our belonging within the Universe and believe somehow that even when we can’t see it, there is a reason we are here. We do matter. We can remember that we are not alone. We matter. We are needed. Our voice, our ideas, our creations… unlike any other.

Whenever you find yourself doubting that, I invite and encourage you to listen to Brandi Carlile and Alicia Keys sing “A Beautiful Noise.” Something in this song wakes me, shakes me, and reminds me to hold on even when I’m not sure where I’m going. It pulls me back to trust that the way will become clear (or at least clearer). It reminds me that I have a voice. I have unique stories to tell, perspectives to share, lessons to teach, invitations to offer, and gifts to give. So do you. Each one of us does.

How are you doing these days? Where is your inner guidance leading you? Talking with a wise woman the other day she aptly noted, “I think people are fried.” I think she’s right. If you’re feeling fried right now, how do you recharge? How do you reconnect with your inner wisdom and guidance? What works for you? Please share with us so that we can add to our own ideas. In the moments of darkness, it can be hard to see a path forward. We forget this current state will, at some point, come to an end. It will.

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Many & Mixed Emotions

7/1/2022

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Image by Pixaline from Pixabay

Whew! It’s been a week of many emotions, from the pits of despair, to peace, to joy. Memories, moments swirl within, weaving together, making up my reality. Healing is happening. Growth is happening. Layers peeling back. Heart breaking open. Trauma being released.

Car screams help. Tears help. Laughter helps. Saying “yes” to spontaneous invites help. Reaching out helps. Conversation and connection help. Pausing to notice change and growth and to acknowledge it helps. Holistic healthcare helps – a lot. Grateful for all of my practitioners who have ideas and an understanding of how to help that seems to be beyond the scope of Western medicine.

I have felt myself swirling down into the too familiar drain of doom… taking one data point and projecting it into a future reality, that I obviously have no idea if it will ever come to be or not. Our minds are so quick with the stories, find such reassurance in certainty, think they know it all. They don’t.

But the old triggers awaken the automatic responses – before I even know it, I’m back in the old ways, swirling in the old thoughts, feeling the old fears. I don’t have to stay here. I am grateful for the reminders that change is not a smooth linear upward path. It never is. Growth happens in fits and spurts, in setbacks and hesitations, in erratic and unpredictable ways. The path is rarely clear.

So, keep my heart open. Allow space for what’s here in this moment. How can I be with myself? Who can support me? It’s clear I need to expand my network. My immediate desire is to call Mary… and, of course, I can’t. And though she plays me music to let me know she’s right here, it’s just not the same. Thankful for the friends who do call. Who ask, “What can I do to support you?” or who simply offer their care and love. Thankful for talking with my family. Thankful for hard, honest conversations that reflect so much. Thankful when I can help another.

This week has hit me in so many ways, from mundane and simple overwhelm from trying to do too much in too little time, to self-criticism for doing that, to more extreme situations. I’ve had moments of absolute divine flow and grace, sailing smoothly through with no rushing or lateness – definitely a rarity! And I’ve had moments of forgetting things like money to pay my acupuncturist or important documents to share with my coach. Oh well… move on through. I can pay her next time and bring those papers in a couple of weeks. We work with what’s here.

Driving through our old neighborhood the other day brought up so much… dreams of what was to be and the reality of what wasn’t. A mix of sweet memories of my kids’ childhoods twirled and danced with scary, disappointing, and terribly sad ones of later years. I felt my heart ache for it all, felt my throat clench as sobs started to rise, and I took myself to the park. I sat in the car in the parking lot and I journaled… I let everything come through my pen onto paper. I let myself cry. I let myself feel and release what had been stuffed tightly down for too long as I claimed all of it as part of this reality that is my life.

I know for me healing includes walking through the fire, facing what’s before me. As I can face it, I can release it. I can see where I’ve been and where I am now. I can reckon with the horribly hard stuff, embrace the sweet stuff and I can accept all that falls in-between.

Contemplation sometimes moves to action too quickly for my being to keep up. I love our spontaneity overall. And, sometimes it catches me off guard. We decided to sell our boat. It took less than 72 hours and it will be gone – whisked away to some other lake to cart grandkids around. That makes me happy. We had a nice run over to Beachcomber the other night for the classic summer dinner by the lake while they play beach volleyball. One of the things we’ve always loved doing with the boat! This morning we took our last spin around the lake. Getting to be captain one more time, I soaked it in. Tears ran down my face for all the reasons – mostly because this dream ever came into reality! All my life I wanted a ski boat. 9 years ago, we got our first one and it’s been a wonderful thing. Savoring the memories and at the same time relieved to be done with any hassle. Knowing there will be moments I will miss it and long for it, and knowing overall it will be a relief.

Why in the world am I carrying on about such an inconsequential thing at a time when the world is raging with so many consequential and incomprehensible things? Because it’s all part of it… each one of us is affected by the small personal things, the big personal things and the collective stuff of the world. I don’t know anyone who’s not feeling some level of weariness right now.

It’s a really good time to take good care of ourselves. And it begins, for me, with allowing the many mixed emotions to move through me. Tears, laughter, delight, agony… they can all come through in any given day. What I try to remember is that “this” won’t last. Whatever this is… it will change, morph, release, move on, and something else will quickly fill its place.

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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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Unknown and Uncertainty

4/25/2022

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Sitting with these ideas for today’s #AtoZChallenge. We live in a world of uncertainty, and we are always stepping into the unknown, individually and collectively. Depending on what that unknown is can fill us with excitement or anxiety, hope or dread.

Sometimes it’s clear that we are in a state of transition – leaving a job or relationship, graduating college, getting married, moving across the country, having a baby… in these cases, we know we are leaving behind a familiar life to enter into a new one. What we don’t always see so readily is that we are always in transition. Our bodies, our reality, our relationships, minds and ideas are continually morphing and evolving.

Other people fill us with their fears, worries, or faith, which may or may not be helpful. Each of us is living in the unknown, uncertain of what’s to come. Most of us don’t like to admit or accept that. So, we do what we can to control, to create some level of imagined certainty.

We make decisions and choices, take actions trying to ensure the outcome we desire, unwilling to admit we can only take the next best step for the best chance of the things we hope for. There is freedom in accepting that truth.

The only things that are known or certain are those things that have already happened.

And, so, what keeps us going? Why do we continue to show up? I guess because the unknown also offers the possibility of things beyond our imagination. Our negativity bias causes us to focus on what could go wrong, but at the same time our spirit and soul call us to what could be wonderful or amazing.

Knowing is actually way less interesting than we admit. Who would watch a multi-hour sports event or movie if they knew how it was going to end? (Well, unless, like me, you’ve seen it before and you don’t remember or you don’t care because the story is so enthralling!).

We spend hours of worry about how our lives or our loved ones’ lives will go. We humans are fascinating! Playing this game of strategy and faith, effort and flow, making moves, taking chances, riding on hope. And, there it is again, that mighty force that some call weak.

Hope encourages us, supports us to say yes to the proposal, to take the stage, to leave the toxic relationship and head out on our own. To put down the drink or drug that has consistently brought comfort to see if there might be a better life without it. The hope that tomorrow will be a better day nudges us forward. Something has to push us, pull us to leave the known and risk the vast uncertainty of the unknown. To wake up and step into a new day and see where it takes you.

“When you walk to the edge of all the light you have and take that first step into the darkness of the unknown, you must believe that one of two things will happen. There will be something solid for you to stand upon or you will be taught to fly.”
― Patrick Overton, The leaning tree

My favorite days are “Let’s see where the spirit takes us” days. Days with absolutely no plans, and where we let go of control, just checking in moment by moment to see what we’d like to do. What we want to eat? Is this a time to rest, read, or go for a walk? What adventure calls to our hearts? What might be fun? What would feel comforting and nourishing?

To find the ability to flow with it, gently, sweetly, one moment at a time. Not needing an agenda. Not needing to know. It can be uncomfortable, but it can also be wonderfully delightful when I pause and listen within, feel into the longing of my heart and soul, let go of the worry of wasted time.

This is where I sit right now. Is this a day to relax and write? To bake? To go to a movie? In the sweetness of no schedule, I don’t know. And, I am savoring the unknown. It gives me permission to decide, to choose, to see… These are my favorite days. The ones not dictated by meetings, classes, work, commitments, or appointments. They are a rare gift in a busy world. “Seizing” this day does not mean it has to be productive or anything other than what it is. It only asks me to show up and be with it, as it is, as it unfolds.

And, yet, feeling the uncertainty of our future, having just watched the memorial video of a young man gone too son, compels me to invite us all to live a life we will remember. To love openly, to care deeply, to hug our people, to capture memories, and make new ones. This life is so precious because of its uncertainty. We don’t have to strive to make things happen, but we don’t want to miss what’s here.

What grounds you as you find yourself swirling in the midst of uncertainty? What helps you stay steady as you step into the great unknown? What practices do you have that hold you most reliably when times are tough? For me, meditation, morning pages, yoga, getting outdoors in the beauty of nature bring me home, and connecting with those I love is critical.

What does it mean to you to live a life you will remember? What’s calling you? What feels most meaningful and important these days? Has that changed over the years? I know, for me, I have little desire to go back to how I used to be when I was much younger. And I do long to step into my next chapter from a place of purpose and joy.

A few recommendations and invitations for you:
Katrina Kenison writes beautifully about life and its various stages, looking at transitions and life changes. I have recently finished Magical Journey: An Apprenticeship in Contentment, a beautiful book for women in midlife, changing roles and relationships with growing children, finding themselves again after career and parenting change. I highly recommend this as well as The Gift of an Ordinary Day: A Mother’s Memoir of Letting Go. Both books and her blogs, which are beautiful and thought-provoking, call us to be present to the everyday moments as our lives and relationships grow, evolve, and become their next version.

Here are a couple of musical accompaniments for this life journey:
The Nights by Avicii – “Live a life you will remember!”
I Did It All by Vince Myers

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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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Swimming in the Messy Stages of Grief

1/18/2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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One Step at a Time!

9/15/2021

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12-step programs use “one day at a time” as a guiding principle. I’ve adapted that to “one moment at a time” for years because there are simply too many moments in a day! In meditation we are often brought back to “one breath at a time,” a reminder that this is all we have. This breath. This moment.

Last week when I was in Colorado, I went on a couple of mountain hikes that were a little (or maybe a lot) out of my comfort zone. I was brought to the present moment with a snap of reality that I could only take it “one step at a time!” This became my mantra for the trip. I couldn’t miss that this is also a great metaphor for life.

As I navigated cliffside boulder fields, gradual and steep inclines, and even endless stairs (everything is on a slope there!!), I had to remember to not look too far ahead, to not look down (or up), to not look behind me. If I did, I might freak myself out!

I got experience how my open-eyed meditation practice supports me in “real life!” If I could keep my soft-eyed meditative gaze, 2-6’ ahead of me, taking in whatever was in my visual field, I could make it through bit by bit, one mindful step at a time.

Did I have to stop and catch my breath? Heck yeah! Many, many times! Did I need to allow my heartrate to come back down to normal? Um, yes! At 6400+ feet above sea level, my heart was pounding even without the added exertion and heat! Did I worry about being a drag to my companions? I did, but I talked myself through it.

Did I feel really proud of myself for getting through stuff I wasn’t at all sure I could navigate (like those boulder fields or the drop-off steps down the side of a cliff)? I did! I don’t always give myself enough credit for how strong, able, persistent, or courageous I am. Especially when it comes to physical acts. I’m comfortable with emotional, mental, and spiritual strength and endurance. But, physical…not so much. I have a ton of stories about who I am and what I can and cannot do. Lots of the time they stop me from pushing myself to my limits.

What helped was this reality guidepost – All you can do is One Step at A Time. Isn’t that what life is, after all? Just a series of single steps woven together? When we face an obstacle we don’t think we can get through, often if we just take that first step, take our time, navigate carefully through, we find ourselves on the other side having surprised ourself at our own strength, flexibility, agility, persistence, courage.

In a very real sense, I was physically exhausted, but in a way that I’m not usually. This was not the physical exhaustion that comes as a byproduct of emotional or mental over-working. This was genuine in the body, tired to the bones, shaking in my core exhaustion – the kind that also says, “You are stronger than you imagined!” The kind that invites a solid, hard night’s sleep!

I return from this trip with a sense of exhilaration, a sense of aliveness, and an awareness that I want to push myself more often now that I know I am more able than I think! I am acutely aware that this idea that “life is for living” resonates deep within me. I need to do things that bring joy, peace, connection, and maybe a little bit of challenge!

How often in life do we find ourselves thinking ahead, planning or worrying, anticipating what is coming, what might happen, or what might be needed? Dwelling on something that’s already happened? Finding ourselves out there with all the thoughts while also trying to be present… How often do we hold those thoughts not only for ourselves, but for all the people in our world (family, friends, clients, employees, the community at large…)? I watched myself do this on the return trip home – at the airport, on the roads, looking for signs, making sure we had all the necessary documentation at the ready, planning, trying to be one step ahead. It’s exhausting! (Listen to We Can Do Hard Things podcast on Overwhelm to hear more about this “ticker tape” that often runs through a person’s head!)

It was so refreshing to spend a few days not doing all of that – just allowing the days to unfold, to see where the spirit moved us to go, to be exquisitely present on a mountaintop, taking it one step at a time. Thankfully this energy still reverberates throughout my whole being – these lessons and insights will carry me back into day-to-day life. My heart is so happy and my soul is ecstatic!

How might this experience guide you? Where can you slow it down to literally one step at a time? Stop jumping too far ahead and simply allow yourself to truly be right here, right now. This moment, this next step – that’s it! Where can you let go of over-thinking, over-planning, over-worrying (especially about things that are beyond your control)?

Can you lean into the truth that often we don’t know what lies around the next corner? Can you lean into the challenge that is before you now the way I leaned into the mountainside to avoid a potentially disastrous slip? And, where and how can you give yourself a chance for a little refresh? Is there a part of you wanting to come back to life?

Life truly is for living, my friend! And, if we take it one wise step at a time, we can carry ourselves forward into places that just might surprise us! We might discover we are stronger, braver, wiser, and more skillful than we ever dreamt.

I invite you to join me and Sandra Sabene for this year’s incredible 5-day Let Your Light Shine! Retreat that begins on September 24th! This is a great chance for you to live into this idea of one step at a time! It’s an opportunity to slow down, to see what calls you, moment by moment. It’s a chance to connect with your heart and inner guidance. It’s a chance to be nourished in so many ways – physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually! It’s a chance to take yourself out into nature – to hike the woods, walk the labyrinth, sit by the fire… a chance to dance, sing, play, create, as well as a chance to deeply connect within.

What are you taking away? Please share!!

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Making Tough Choices

8/10/2021

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Last week I wrote about disappointing people and how sometimes we make choices that do disappoint others. We make those choices to be honest and true to ourselves. If you missed that and want to check it out, you can find that here.

It’s also worth pointing out that the reality of life is sometimes we just will disappoint others, even when we don’t know we are. Not by choice. Not intentionally. But just by the things we do or the way we show up (or how we don’t). There’s no getting around it and you can make yourself crazy trying to make all the people happy all the time. It can’t be done… so, let go of that. And this is why we come back to the notion of being true to ourselves as a guiding light.

I have a strong hunch when we are true to the best version of ourselves (which is really what I’m talking about), you are not going to go out and ruthlessly hurt other people. If you have any concern that this will lead to reckless narcissism or deep selfishness, you can probably let that go!

And, when you are not living true to your best self, when you are being what you think other people want or need you to be, the best version of yourself cannot show up to the world. It has been relegated to the basement or some back dark room… its hunkered down longing to come alive.

Often, we stay stuck and don’t follow our hearts or our dreams because we are so afraid we’re going to let someone else down. Sometimes we don’t follow a dream because it’s scary to see it come to life (this is a weird one but I have experienced it a couple of times when life-long dreams were about to come true… glad I persisted through the discomfort and allowed them to unfold anyway).

Sooooo… let’s look at when it might be risky to make a decision because you’re not clear on whether this decision will honor you or is simply an attempt to try to please someone else.

When NOT to make a decision:
- When you’re feeling exhausted, depleted, drained, or overwhelmed. It’s highly unlikely that you’re able to access your true guidance in these states and you’re much more likely to default to what feels easiest, least controversial or bothersome. It will be easy to collapse and defer to what others are telling you or to just do what you’ve always done.
- When you’re doing it solely for someone else (with a boatload of resentment or ickiness brewing beneath the surface, even if you have the best intentions). Unless you can get to a place where you know that you are consciously choosing, it’s better to hold off if you can.

I’ve had very dear friends almost spend a lot of money and time to take a retreat or program I’m offering “to support me.” No! Please don’t do that! I appreciate the thought, but quite honestly, I don’t want you there unless you’re there for yourself! Leave the spot open for someone who truly feels called to be there.

- When your choice is based on what others will think of you. You’re not in their heads – you have no idea what they will think! And, more often than not, the people you are giving a vote to aren’t even people you care that much about! So, let that shit go! Who cares what someone else thinks about whether you add one more pet to your family, where you go on vacation, how you spend your days, that you don’t want to have a child or get married, or that you want to date after all these years?

- When you can’t think clearly. When you’re in the thick of something, especially something upsetting, you might feel constricted, forced, or limited. You may see no option or way out. This is a time to step back and find some breathing room before moving forward. Sometimes there is a true urgency that requires action anyway – I still recommend at least a few minutes of deep breathing just to slow down, pause, and interrupt that spinning cycle that could lead to impulsive reactive choices.
Sometimes the “urgency” is not real or something that someone else is trying to impose upon you (pushy sales people and disreputable businesses trying to make you “buy now! Time is running out!” BS). For me, that’s a red flag. If someone can’t give me time to think something through, then my answer will be “No!” I used to tell my kids, “If you make me answer you now, the answer is no. If you give me some time to think about it, it might be yes. I don’t know yet…” Amazing how patient they became when I didn’t cave in to fabricated pressure.

Good news! There are things that can help take you from a place of confusion into making a solid decision that you can stand behind and feel good about!

Some things that help to make a hard choice that feels good (in alignment with your heart and soul):

Time and space to breathe! BREATHE. PAUSE. If you know me at all, you’ve likely heard this a thousand times… because it bears repeating. Because it’s something I need to continue to remember. The less time you feel you have, the more important it is to take time.
Get quiet. Get grounded. See #1… and also maybe put your bare feet on the grass, take a breath of fresh outdoor air, gaze at the clouds, into a pond, or the flame of a fire. Find something that works for you to bring you back to you. Listen within. Step away from outside voices and opinions.
Move from your head into your heart. It helps to place your hands on your heart, close your eyes, and imagine breathing into this space. Ask for guidance from this heart space. You’ll know if the response you get is from your mind or your heart – the mind will try to convince, justify, rationalize, or defend a position. The heart knows. You will sense your answer rather than think it. It may not make sense to the mind, even if you get the heart buzz that says, “this is the choice to make.”
Feel into each possibility you’re considering. From a quiet, heart-centered place, where you’ve given yourself space to listen within, play out the scenario of “yes” or “no” or option A or option B, C, D…in your imagination and notice how your body feels, how your breathing responds. Is there a sense of openness, expansion, softening? Or do you feel tight, constricted, restricted? What do you make of that? Your body is a great GPS or North Star when you learn to tune into it in this way. I’ve recorded this guided meditation to support you with this exploration.
Free write about each possibility – allow your hand to move across the page as you handwrite, “If I do/choose ____...” for each one – write for a few minutes without stopping to think. When you think you’ve written all there is to say, ask yourself, “And what else?” and see what comes through. The key is to keep the pen moving so that you can tap in beneath the surface – allow yourself to be surprised. You may or may not get the answer you expected.
MAYBE talk it through with someone you trust who can help you to reflect – someone who can listen not only to what you’re saying, but for what’s not being said, for changes in your energy, changes in your voice. A good sounding board is someone who helps you arrive at your own answers. The people closest to you are not always good sounding boards, particularly if your decision might upset their life in some way. A counselor, coach, or trusted friend might be.
Listen for and notice any deeply ingrained conditioning, patterns or vows that may be coming into play and influencing you one way or the other. Things like, “I’m not someone who…” or “I swore I could never…” “things aren’t supposed to come easily – this must be too good to be true” are signs that an unconscious program is running the show. This is a great time to get curious – ask yourself, “Is that still true? Does this serve me now? What if…?”
Notice if you’re holding onto one thing while reaching for the next. Sometimes we have to let go of one bank of the river to reach the other side but we hold on, straddling both shores, being stretched thin, for fear of what we might lose if we let go. Fear of stepping into the unknown can keep us stuck even if staying with what’s known is no longer healthy, fun, or beneficial. Knowing what you’re moving toward can help make it easier to release the past. Sometimes the energy that comes from releasing and letting go can open the doors to what’s next. Sometimes we have to be willing to move forward and step into uncertainty because we don’t know how it’s going to turn out (truth bomb, you will never know how it’s going to turn out until it does… and it will never turn out at all if you don’t take a chance).

As you find yourself facing these tough decisions, know that the dream may not take the form you had imagined (I went through this when we bought our current home – we had to let go of several along the way to land in one that wasn’t at all what I imagined it would be, and yet it’s perfect for what we wanted. You can read a bit about this idea in Softening Your Gaze on a Dream.)

Invitations come that seem like they are leading us down a particular path, when in reality they may only be there to open us up to something within us or to help us clarify a definite “no.” Just because you get invited to something does not mean it’s a sign from the Universe. The Universe will put many things in your path – you still get to choose whether to pick them up, move around them, or avoid them completely.

Also, please remember, very few decisions are forever. We can keep ourselves stuck thinking “this is the only shot I’ll get at this” or “I have to get this right because this is the last job, relationship, pet, car…” I will ever have. Relax...

Allow yourself permission to play with the next move that feels right in this moment. Might you lose some money or time on a decision if you change your mind later? Sure… but is that the end of the world? I have walked away from years of education and training, thousands of dollars invested in a path that isn’t right for me anymore. I have walked away from jobs I have put years of dedication into. I have left friendships that are no longer supportive. I have supported many others to do the same – to set themselves free in service of their soul. We grow. We evolve. We become the next iteration of ourselves. Every experience, every bit of life along the way has served in some way. Nothing is a waste. It’s all led to this moment in time which is leading to the next.

What choices are you facing that you’re having a hard time making? What opportunities are waiting?

Give yourself permission to play. To try, experiment, give it a chance if it’s calling you now. Give yourself permission to change your mind down the road if that’s what’s right then. None of us can see into the future. We can only do the best we can with what we have right here and now.

The “We Can Do Hard Things” podcast (with Glennon Doyle who got me started on this whole exploration of disappointing ourselves or others) just had a great episode on Quitting! Check it out. Fascinating the narratives we run about this word that can be used positively (as in quit smoking) or negatively (as in “You’re a quitter!”)! What stories do you tell yourself about quitting? Who would you be if you did?

Get curious about how gentle or harsh you are being with yourself as you consider these choices that keep you up at night and choose the gentler path. You deserve your own compassion as you navigate these uncharted waters.

What helps you to make a tough decision?

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Disappointing People

8/4/2021

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One thing I love about Glennon Doyle is that she is NOT afraid to address hard things or put radical ideas out there that take our breath away! One that has stayed with me since reading Untamed is this: In a conversation with her middle-school aged daughter, Tish, when Tish was worrying about not choosing to join a club that her brother wanted her to, Glennon sagely advised, “Then don’t.” “But I don’t want to disappoint him.” What followed brings me to tears every time I really take it in. Here’s Glennon to Tish:
“Listen. Every time you’re given a choice between disappointing someone else and disappointing yourself, your duty is to disappoint that someone else. Your job, throughout your entire life, is to disappoint as many people as it takes to avoid disappointing yourself…Especially me.”

Whew! Woah! Let me catch my breath and let’s look at that. I certainly didn’t have a mother who encouraged me to disappoint anyone, especially her (not that she was openly disappointed with me often, but this was not the rule of the game of life).

I do not read this as a directive to set out to hurt others or to intentionally see how many people you can disappoint. But I do see it as an opportunity to not abandon, sacrifice, or disappoint yourself, which I think we do way too frequently without giving it a second thought. This is an invitation to possibly get really uncomfortable as you find a new way to be in the world.

How often do you set your needs or desires aside because of what someone else needs or wants? How often do you think nothing of disappointing yourself? Honestly...

Last week I wrote about being true to yourself as part of my definition for self-care in A Fresh Take on Self-Care. Being true to ourselves, honoring ourselves, is at the heart of true and deep self-care. It is also key to being in integrity.

And, listen, sometimes when we are true to ourselves, when we make a decision that honors our sweet heart, body, or soul, someone we care about very much might be disappointed. When we say “no” to an invitation or opportunity. When we refuse a request because we just don’t have it in us or it doesn’t feel right at this moment. When we say “yes” to something that conflicts with another’s desire, we will disappoint someone else.

Life is full of choices. Every “yes” is a “no” to something else, and so there are lots of opportunities for disappointing someone!

When you make a choice to leave a job, end a relationship, sell the family home, move far away from all your people, say “no” to helping, etc… someone will likely be sad, angry, hurt, or disappointed.

What happens inside you when you consider disappointing someone you really care about? How does that feel in your body?
What is the story you tell yourself about who you would be if you disappointed another person?

I don’t know about you, but I get a little queasy. I may have a story that this isn’t what a “nice person” or a “good mother/daughter/sister/friend” does. I might try to dance around making that decision. I will surely delay as long as possible. I will consider heavily just giving in or settling for what they want, because it feels easier. It feels familiar. It’s what I’ve done for decades. Far easier to disappoint me – then I only have to deal with myself!

I wish I had had a parent who gave me permission or even implored me to disappoint others in order to avoid hurting my own heart or spirit. I wish I had been that mother for my kids… I wasn’t, but I’m getting there. I feel the strength and freedom in the incredible gift Glennon gave her daughter in this moment. One small conversation with a middle school girl gave her permission to follow her own path, to trust her heart, to honor her joy. Whewie! Let’s have more of that please!

I haven’t yet explicitly shared it with my young adult kids, but I hope to. I want to set them free of needing to be or do anything for me (or anyone) that goes against their spirit.

Your turn to reflect…

~ What is the cost of disappointing yourself to avoid disappointing others?
~ How do you get clear about making a decision that is FOR you even if it seems to be against someone else? What if there’s more to it (because there always is)?
~ How can you take a stand for yourself, have your own back and communicate your message in a way that is clean, clear, and straightforward?
~ What helps you to make these choices, even when they are painfully hard?
~ When have you had to do this and how has it worked out for you? What are the upsides of disappointing others to avoid disappointing yourself?
~ How might you play with this idea? Who might you share it with? Who might you free?

Please share. Please share your reflections and thoughts about this whole idea… it’s a dicey one! And one that feels like a really important game-changer in this thing called life.

Stay tuned for next week’s post with more thoughts about making these tough decisions!

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