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Beauty and Gratitude can Change Your Life

10/31/2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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Yes, and... Life is One Big Improv

8/14/2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Going On...Even when Life is Forever Changed

5/5/2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Losing Yourself and Coming Home Again

3/21/2023

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PicturePhoto by Renee Veniskey - https://immaginephoto.com
You may have heard me use the phrase “coming home to yourself,” in part because it’s what clients have said they’ve felt after coaching or retreating with me.  But what does it mean and why is it so important? 
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To me it means getting solid in the core of who you are.  Knowing yourself - your likes and dislikes, your desires, and your needs - so that you can honor them.  It sounds simple, yet it seems there’s a disconnect that happens over time that takes us away from the core of who we are. 

This disconnect happens for a lot of reasons.  As children and young adults, we take in messages from others about who they think we are or who we’re supposed to be; parents, teachers, friends, coaches see something in us and push us in a certain direction.  On the flip side, there are parts of us we’re encouraged to hide away - we’re too sensitive, too talkative, too energetic, too quiet, too eccentric, etc.  We begin to show up as a mix of who we really are, who we think we’re supposed to be, while erasing parts of us that don’t feel lovable or welcome. 

As we get older, our roles as spouse or parent add to the confusion.  We’re just Nicky’s mom or Joe’s wife.  Our career defines us and may box us in with its labels.  Societal ideas tell us what’s acceptable behavior (e.g., no crying in the workplace).  Over time, parts of our true self get covered over, whittled away, or buried. 

Intense relationships or situations, like loving someone with a mental health condition, facing a scary diagnosis, or caring for a parent with dementia, may consume us and portray the entirety of who we are.  We forget or lose touch with who we are beyond this one (huge) aspect of life.  We forget the person we once were and we let go of the dreams and passions that once called to us.  Perhaps they feel irrelevant in the urgency of crisis after crisis or they feel impractical given everything else on your plate.  Understandable. 

Without the time and space to step away and gain perspective on these aspects of life, it’s easy to continue on autopilot.  In our new norm, we become defined and absorbed by this identity.  Or we’re simply sleep-walking through our days with no real sense of self at all, responding to the needs and demands of others, while ours vanish into the ethers. 

I’ve found contemplative, reflective time and space are the foundation for one’s return to self.  Time for quiet, to sit with ourselves without the interruption of other voices, time to journal or meditate.  Time to commune with trees and birds.  Time to slow down and soften into the flow of our natural rhythm.  Time to catch our breath and then breathe fully on a regular basis.  This time, this space is a rare gift.  It is the essential container for coming back into alignment with true self.  It allows us to open to the quiet loving voice within.

How retreats play in:

The richness of this kind of time and space is one of the reasons I value retreats.  I know they are so much more than simply a nice weekend getaway.  Retreats are a vital opportunity to refill, refuel, and reconnect.  They offer the chance to ask great questions while allowing the answers to come.  They provide space to try new things and new ways of being as you get to know yourself more intimately.  They create a container as well as a spaciousness for inner inquiry, exploration, and discovery so that we can feel clarity and strength grow within us.  Retreats allow us to be in community with others on a similar quest, sharing practices like yoga, meditation, contemplation, and reflection.  Almost always they also offer a chance to immerse ourselves in nature’s beauty and grounding, to be held by the trees and the land as we feel our place in the greater scheme of life along with our own smallness. 

These past few months have been filled with intensity and crisis upon crisis, both personally and on a global scale.  I’ve had to pull back from work I love as I found myself with little to no energy for anything beyond the basics.  I felt myself going into a dark cocoon to dissolve into goo before coming through the other side.  In the darkness, I felt myself disappearing, not at all sure when I would re-emerge.  I am grateful to feel the re-emergence happening now, slowly, one baby step at a time. 

I am grateful for what is being left behind in the shell of the cocoon.  I am grateful for the clarity of what no longer fits in this chapter of my life.  And I am struck to see how the work I’ve done over the years to build a strong inner core connection has held me, even when I didn’t feel it in the moment.  Feeling the foundation that’s allowed me to move through these deeply disruptive and triggering events, I see that they have moved through me as well. Sitting in the darkness, I have let myself feel everything from nothingness to fear to anger and disappointment.  I have been taken down and out temporarily, but not for good.  I am emerging, not into certainty of what will happen in my life, but with a stronger sense of certainty of who I am as a woman in the world right now. 

This period of losing myself in other people’s emergencies and urgencies and feeling the slow return has illuminated my desire to prepare and plan this July’s Come Home to Yourself Retreat.  Its significance fills me and pulls me. I am grateful to be able to invite other women into this spacious retreat as an opportunity to connect more deeply with their own hearts and souls, to hear the wisdom that springs from within in the space and stillness, when we are inclined to listen. Summer gifts us 16 hours of daylight each day!  Imagine what is possible in that vast opening!   Light on the Hill offers a stunning space to immerse in nature,  with floor to ceiling windows and skylights that all but plop us into the middle of the valley, sun streaming in, bathing us in her glow.  This season in the Finger Lakes calls us to lie in the grass, to walk through the trees, to gaze at the clouds, to stop in the middle of what can be a fun and busy season to slow down and go within.  It gives us a chance to integrate the lessons life has brought our way as we simultaneously open to what lies ahead, to what is emerging, and to who we want to be.  This retreat is a gift to me and to all who will gather and co-create it along with me and our yoga goddess, Carol Moon. 

A special offer for you: 

For you and your loved ones, for being part of this community, I am offering a special gift through March 31st - you can take an additional $50 off the early bird rate ($150 off standard rate) as my gift to you by using coupon code MARCH when you check out.  That’s $625 for 3 nights and 4 days of private room accommodations in a gorgeous setting, delicious, lovingly prepared vegetarian meals, as well as all retreat offerings (including yoga, meditation, journaling, campfires plus lots and lots of space and time to follow your heart and soul!).  I hope you will consider joining us for what will surely be a magical time.  All the details and registration are here.  

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Carrying Pain

2/19/2023

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Pain.  Fear.  Worry.  I’m noticing lots of us don’t know what to do with these very human, and very uncomfortable experiences.  Many of us have been conditioned to push through pain.  We don’t understand or don’t want to sit with it.  After all, we live in a culture that says things like, “No pain, no gain!” (Which, by the way I call bullshit on!). 

If we allow it, our pain informs us.  It tells us when something is wrong.  It lets us know we need some loving care.  It begs us to rest and regroup - to nurture ourselves until we’re ready to consider what to do. 

We all carry pain.  One of the elements of mindful self-compassion is common humanity, reminding us all humans suffer.  It’s part of our shared human experience, not a sign of weakness and not something that happens to you alone. 

I have found myself living with some really heavy pain mixed with a lot of fear lately.  At times I’ve found myself feeling flat and dull like a cardboard shirt liner.  Some days it’s a slog to simply do the next thing.  Other days I compartmentalize a bit and put the painful stuff aside to enjoy being with myself or with a friend.  One thing I know for sure is the more I’m able to express or share my pain, the less burdened I feel. 

When we try to carry it alone, giving it nowhere to go, no release, no expression, no tears or screams, it eats us up inside.  It comes out - always - just maybe not in a healthy way.  Sideways, misdirected, harmful. 

What Helps
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What helps me in these times is to talk about it with someone who simply listens without trying to fix or advise.  It helps me to write about it.  It helps me to cry, even if the tears come from an unrelated song or movie.  It helps to get outdoors and look for beauty.  Because what’s scaring me is so outside my control, it helps to find what I can control - picking one small task and seeing it through (I’m talking super small, like getting a load of laundry through the dryer or wiping down one kitchen counter). 

I’m learning to be with my pain, and to not be with it alone.  Give it space.  Give it voice before its pressure builds up and blows, before I become so numb that I hide away and lose myself to the world. 

Where did we learn to believe we have to be OK all the time?  That it’s weak to admit we’re hurting or scared?  Maybe from parents who held it all together as they went through hard times.  Parents who did what they had to do to get through, who weren’t raised to talk about their sorrows or hardships and didn’t know how to care for themselves.  Maybe from a world that feels hard and harsh - a world that instructs us to hide our tears and “get over” our grief. 

                     Pain carried alone is like poison, slowly taking us down. 

What if we faced pain together?  

As we face our scary realities, I wonder what might happen if we can each let down our armor.  Maybe we can be afraid together.  Maybe in that fear, we can break through - maybe shared vulnerability will help us face what we need to in a realistic way.  Maybe.  Maybe if we trusted one another to be honest and open about what’s going on, we can face it together.  Maybe if we stopped pretending we’re OK, maybe if we’d open our hearts to one another, take a breath, slow down long enough to be really real, maybe then we’d get somewhere.  Stop pushing, stop running and let ourselves break down to break through. 

Maybe we need to stop jumping too quickly to problem-solving and let ourselves admit just how scared we are first.  Maybe we can admit we don’t know what’s coming or how things can change, and then uncover some fresh ideas.  What if we could learn from each other’s fears as we share our own?  Can we come together to find a way forward?  It seems worth a shot. 

Hurt people hurt people.  Let’s be people who are healing to help others heal.  It will take some time.  We have time.  It’s always better to slow things down than to try to operate from a place of reactivity.  Our pain and our problems deserve our time, our attention, our love, and our full presence.  Especially when things feel really dire.  In those moments, may we open our hearts to one another, let our whole selves come through, and come together to find our way on.    
 
To the One Who is Hurting
by Barb Klein
 
To you, Dear One,
                The one who’s not doing as well
                as you’d like the world to believe,
I see you
I feel for you
I know what it’s like -
                to armor up and soldier on
                to put on a smile when you feel empty inside
                to feel lost and alone, and oh, so scared
Where do you turn?
How do you let it out     
                so you don’t carry this unbearable weight
                alone?
Please let yourself let down
                some way, somewhere…
Please…
Don’t carry this alone. 
It will tear you up inside
And leave you as destroyed
                as the one you worry about.
Please, find someone -
                let someone walk by your side.
You don’t have to pretend to be OK.
Really.
In each of us there lies a secret pain -
                too big to let out, we fear,
                afraid it will take over the moment it’s revealed
You are not alone.
You are one of thousands of millions,
                pretending to be OK,
                shoving it down, this poisonous pain,
                burying it away,
                hurting and hurting and hurting some more.
Let it out.
Let someone in.
You do not have to carry this alone.
When pain is shared
                it becomes less heavy -
                perhaps.
Perhaps a new possibility might arise…
                if not, at least you can face it -
                together.
It’s too much for one person to bear, this poisonous pain.
I see you
I feel you
I’ve been there (just yesterday, in fact)
I wrap you in a love that reminds you -
                You do not suffer alone
Let’s carry this together
                as we step into this day,
Not pretending we’re OK 
It’s OK
We’ll go on and find our way
Somehow
Some way
We will get through another day
 
Gentle yourself in whatever way you need.  Rest when you need to. Know that pain doesn't have to be pushed through and that it's not weak to ask for help.  Cry.  Scream.  Write.  Whatever works for you to get out any pain you're holding.  Let it out, get it out so that it doesn't tear you up inside. Please offer yourself tons of grace.  Find your own version of what helps.  

And if, in this moment, you're feeling peaceful, relaxed and full of joy!  Great!! Soak that in - breathe it in to your bones so you remember you can find this feeling when you need it.  

As always, please meet yourself with kindness, gentleness, tenderness, and compassion.  And know that you are not alone. 

I offer you this meditation, In Painful Times, as a practice to support you.  

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Mind Your Business

11/30/2022

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I’ve heard this said a number of ways from the not very nice “Mind your own business!” to a gentler reminder to “stay in your lane, in your boat, or in your hula hoop.”  I’ve come to take it as sage wisdom, not a harsh rebuke.  A “prescription for peace” as my friend and colleague, Joanne Richards, calls it. 

When we love someone with substance use disorder or other mental health issues, we can find ourselves in their business a lot.  They aren’t doing well.  Things don’t add up.  The stories we’re getting or what we’re observing don’t compute with what we’re being told, so we’re going to get to the bottom of it. But, can we, really?  We’re not in the other person’s head or life, so we won’t truly know what’s happening unless they share it with us.  We can only make up our own stories.  Stories which often lead to more wondering, more worrying, more distress. 

We can do this with friends and other loved ones too - they haven’t called or replied to a text.  What’s that mean?  Are they mad?  Did I do or say something wrong?  Are they ok?  What’s wrong?   People are complex, so we never know what may or may not have upset someone.  We don’t really know what’s going on for them unless we talk to them directly about it.  Our mind masterfully, effortlessly, and unknowingly dreams up disaster scenarios in the blink of an eye.

How do we know when we’re out of our business?

Here are some of the common ways we might find ourselves out of our business and into someone else’s. Read through with gentleness and without self-judgment.  Maybe some familiar to you too. Great!  You’ve just raised your awareness!  Now you get to choose what to do with that! 
  • Finding ourselves wrapped up in fear, struggle, and resentment. 
  • Spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about this other person.  Checking the phone for calls or texts or checking in with them repeatedly.  Monitoring their activity and whereabouts.  Believing you need to know what’s going on with them.  If you don’t hear from them, you worry if they’re all right.  
  • Lying in bed, mind drifting into sleuth mode trying to piece together bits of stories or observations to figure out what’s really going on (at least in a way that makes sense to the mind).  Looking for inconsistencies, trying to make sense of what’s unknown.  When we don’t know the truth of what’s real, we make up all kinds of stories so our mind has something to hold onto. 
  • Seeking answers to the unknown, forgetting that we can never really know the future.  
  • Losing sleep grasping for control in any way we can because things feel so out of control.  
  • Wandering throughout the day aimlessly during unscheduled times.  Unsure what to do, nervous energy carrying us from one thing to the next… doing a little of this and a little of that, but lacking the focus to dive deeply into any one thing for any length of time. 
  • Eating for comfort rather than for hunger or nourishment.  “Stress eating” is a real thing… and I am very, very good at it!  Eating our feelings… it happens!  
  • Connecting our sense of peace and well-being directly to someone else’s.  Unless they’re doing well, we can’t be either. 

How do you know when you’re out of your business and into someone else’s?  What are your clues?

Why does it matter?

This is particularly important for those of us with whom mental health is at play or substance use is in the field because chaos and frenzy can easily become the norm, and it can consume you. 

Finding ourselves out of our business matters because in those moments we are not honoring our peace and well-being.  We are sacrificing them to concerns that are out of our control.  We may be adding on to the suffering by beating ourselves up for doing this because “we know better.”  Knowing and doing are not the same thing, turns out!

Byron Katie talks about “your business, their business, and God’s business.”  Much of what we worry about falls in the latter 2 categories, so when we can rein it in and come back home to this being, to our business, we can relax a bit.  If we accept the reality of what we can control or even influence, we will see that it’s very little of our world.  Maybe then we can give up trying… In a really healthy way. 

When I find myself out of my own business and fretting about someone else I can actually say to myself, “OK, come back here… right here.  This breath, this body, this being” and feel myself relax into the true moment I’m in. 

What can you do differently?

Here are some ideas that have worked for me.  YOU are the expert on you.  See what resonates with you and what you might like to try.  What do you know to do but have lost track of or gotten out of the practice of doing? (It happens to all of us!)

Begin by shifting the focus back from the other person to yourself.  To your self-awareness, personal growth, to your peace, your joy, your desires, the core of who you are. 

Shift your focus from what’s wrong to what’s right or good in your life.  Recognize that this is not an either-or proposition.  We live within the whole of it.  There is always beauty and goodness to be found.

Find simple tasks that have a start and finish to them (or break larger tasks down into small chunks) - that sense of completion can be very satisfying. 

It takes practice to come back to ground, back to center, when you live in never-ending chaos.  To come home to yourself requires self-awareness in order to even know that you’ve left yourself.  It takes a willingness to break the cycle of spin. 

It takes a desire to honor your peace and well-being.  We say we value these things over and over, yet how often do we de-prioritize them in favor of something else, consciously or unconsciously?  How often do we push them away, choosing to swim in fear and despair instead?  How often do we forget that we really do have choices about our own behavior?  Where do we begin? 

Begin with a PAUSE.  You’ve likely heard me say this a million times, because this is the number one tool I know for getting grounded.  Take a breath.  Take a step back.  Observe yourself - what are you doing?  Where is your mind going?  Get into your body and feel your breath moving in and out of you. 

Rather than push away the worrisome thoughts and feelings, allow them to be there (they’re here anyway, and we really can’t stop them from coming).  Meet them gently, with love, with understanding, with compassion and care.  Feelings come whether they make sense or not.  The thoughts you have probably do make sense, especially if past history has shown you what could happen.  When we stop fighting with them or beating ourselves up for having them, they may just dissolve on their own.  Likely they will at least soften.  Put your hand on your heart or give yourself a gentle hug and just tend to your own precious being.

Also, get curious.  Question your thoughts - are you certain that they’re true?  What happens for you when you let go of or stop repeating a distressing story?  When you stop spinning it over and over in your mind or telling it to others?  Notice what you feel in your body, heart, and mind.  What’s different in your energy and presence?

Once you catch yourself solidly in someone else’s business, find the practices that support you in disengaging and realigning with your true self, getting solid within your core. 

How can you give yourself a break?  How might you take some time and space away, for yourself?  Putting the phone on Do Not Disturb, turning it off, or putting it away is one of the greatest things we can do for our own mental health these days.  This little device can pull us out of the present more quickly than anything I know.  It breaks connection with the person right in front of you (even having your silent phone out can do that - if it pings or chimes even more so). For more on that, check out Omega's article, "Put Down Your Device & Pick Up Your Life." 

Also, if and when it makes sense, connect.  Reach out.  Listen to what’s up for the other person.  You can share your concerns if there’s an opportunity to do so in a loving (non-lecturing) way, but it may be more valuable just to get together and listen, really listen. 

Give yourself time for your own nourishment and nurturing. Are you eating in a way that truly feeds you, body, mind, and spirit?  Are you getting the sleep you need?  Drinking enough water?  These are some of the basics, so start there. 

Then, stretch a bit… when was the last time you just let yourself have fun?  Played for no reason at all?  Laughed out loud so hard you thought you’d pee your pants?  Lazed around doing whatever you wanted for more than 5 minutes, without guilt or apology? 

Nourishing our bodies, minds, hearts, and spirits is a worthwhile endeavor.   Unless and until we take care of ourselves, we’re going to keep showing up to life in a way we don’t like - frenzied, frantic, scared, angry, yelling… 

Tune in to who you want to be and how you want to be, especially in this relationship. Do what you can to reconnect with that version of you.  

Send out a prayer or light a candle for a person you love who you’re concerned about.  Send love out through the airwaves - this fills you both up with this beautiful energy. 

Send loving texts of support and don’t wait for or even expect a reply.  Stop asking questions you don’t really want the answers to or won’t believe anyway. 

Breathe and ease up.  Consider that things might be ok (because maybe they really are).  Let go of being the 911 operator, and maybe don’t be available for all the crises when they arrive.  Stop being the one who thinks they have to connect all the dots. 

Continue to learn and practice healthier, more effective, more intentional ways of being.  Allow yourself to be imperfect and awkward as you try out things that might not come naturally.  Discover the payoff for yourself. 

What if?

What if things are working out in a way you can’t see or imagine?  They might be.  Isn’t it as possible as the disaster scenarios the mind so skillfully devises? 

Permission to hope, to dream, and to remember that miracles happen all the time.  You’ve heard the stories.  Why couldn’t they be true for you or your loved one? 

Remember to catch moments and appreciate the beauty that they offer.  Lean into enchantment over fear.  Rest into good enough and stop doing too much.  Gentle yourself through the hard times.  Remember, you are most worthy of your own love.  And know that you are most certainly not alone in the struggles. 

Thoughts? 

How does this land with you? What are the ways you get back to your own business, your own center when life pulls you off?  Please share in the comments.  We learn together.  We grow together.  We find new ways when offered a fresh perspective.  

And, if you would like to join Joanne Richards for her next (free program) Prescription for Peace on Saturday, December 10th, please register here.  I find her offerings invaluable, and will be there!  Maybe I'll see you!  Who couldn't use a little more peace at this time of year?  

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Catching Moments

11/25/2022

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It struck me recently how easy it is to miss the simple, little moments that make up most of life, waiting for some grand event - either a catastrophe or a wild victory.  Which got me thinking how important it is to slow down, to pause much more regularly, in order to notice. To not miss what’s right here. 

Fear... so adaptable...  
I’ve also noticed how freaking adaptable fear is… it doesn’t go away.  It just morphs from one thing to another.  Once an issue feels pretty stable or secure, fear goes looking for what to worry about next. 

And that’s why it’s important to pause from time to time and get some perspective.  To say to yourself, “Self… would you have worried about this a year ago?”  If the answer is “Hell no! This would have been better than anything I could have ever imagined…” well, then, we need to remind ourselves to notice what’s good and right in this moment.  To appreciate it.  To not miss it. 

Will there always be things to be afraid of and worry about if you have that tendency?  Sure!  And, is it possible to keep the fear of what might be from getting in the way of the beauty of what’s right here?  It is.  With a lot of awareness and ability to take a step back. 

That’s what I’ve been doing a lot lately.  Finding myself getting caught up in a frenetic spin, checking myself with a sweet, “hey now, wait just a minute…”  and reflecting.  Seeking that perspective.  Remembering how things have been much worse.  Remembering that I have no idea what the future holds.

Coming into this moment and appreciating it for what it is. 

Finding Beauty... 
Cheryl Strayed shares her mother’s sage wisdom to “put yourself in beauty’s way.”   What does that mean to you?  To me, it means looking for beauty each and every day.  Beauty in the physical world and also beauty at the heart level - beautiful interactions, small, simple moments - a shared hug, a shared tear, a shared laugh, or a quiet moment alone.  All beautiful in their own way. 

And in Keep Moving: Notes on Loss, Creativity, and Change, Maggie Smith shares how she and her children regularly call out to one another for “beauty emergencies!”  Come see the sunset before it’s gone.  Catch the eagle in flight!  Take in the beauty of the snow softly falling.  Let everything else wait and come here right now.  This is an emergency!  I love it!!

To me all of these reminders call me back to my quest to live life while I’m here.  To not miss the things that matter - saying yes to invitations and opportunities to be with people I love.  Prioritizing the things and people who matter most to me and to my heart and soul.  Finding gratitude - each and every day, no matter my mood, no matter the circumstances, it’s there waiting for me.  Finding it helps to balance perspective even on dark, sad, scary days. 

Finding One Good Thing...
This month my friend, Christine Callahan Oke proposed that for the month of November we share One Good Thing per day - #onegoodthing - and it’s been great.  Knowing that every day I will find something to share that is it for me that day.  Seeing what others are noticing and appreciating.  I think I may just keep it going even beyond November.  Why not?  It’s these simple practices that help us build our resilience, our appreciation, and our presence in life. 

Life is made of many moments.  Sometimes the simplest are the sweetest.  Let them be enough.  Let go of waiting for the grand event or the grand finale. It really is the steps along the way that create the journey that is our life.  


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Grappling with Life's Questions

11/8/2022

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PictureImage by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
Do I matter? Does my life matter?  What’s my purpose?  Am I doing enough?  What IS enough? Whether we say them out loud or not, many of us (myself definitely included) grapple with these questions from time to time or on a regular basis.  

Even though for many years I’ve held the mantra “No striving, driving, or pushing” and I truly feel the relief and freedom in claiming that, inside I still secretly berate myself for not being ambitious enough.  When I meet people who are DOING so many great things - big things that are changing the world, I unwittingly compare myself and come up short. Even when I'm choosing to not do too much!  Even when I'm happy with life as it is and not looking to grow or do more... 

I am reminded of my friend, Steve Aman’s question to me on the last day of Leadershape - a grueling few days in the Adirondacks challenging ourselves physically, mentally, and emotionally in an arena that was not my strength.  There had been things I had opted out of (and then reluctantly and with a ton of support tried again).  There had been things that terrified me, things that amused me, things I was willing enough to try and others that were an absolute “Oh, hell no!” 

I was not going to scale a telephone pole, somehow find a way to stand on top of it and throw myself into space toward some acrobat bar.  I was not going to blindfold myself and walk forward (or backward as some did) on the high beam or across the broken swing bridge.  I did get myself to the wire and across it.  I did pair up with Michael and do the “Wild Woozy,” leaning into each other’s hands as we traversed wires that slowly drifted further and further apart so that the only thing holding us up was our weight leaning into each other’s hands.  And I DID rappel off the 80’ cliff (or 800’ - I honestly don’t remember!  I only knew it was a BIG number that terrified me), even after watching some pretty skillful people get caught upside down for a bit. 

So, on this last day there - a day designed for “play,” my dear friend Steve asked me, “Do you have anything left to prove?”  The answer was clear.  No, I did not… “Then go have fun,” he grinned and sent me on my way.  I could watch others perform their feats and cheer them on, but I had done enough.  I’d do the swing and scream my primal scream ‘cause that looked kind of fun… but, other than that, I was good. 

So, in life.  How do we know when we’ve done enough?  How do we reach a point of nothing more to prove?  Is it measured by a certain income or amount in our bank account or retirement fund?  Does it come from winning a certain award or working your way up to a particular title?  Is it the number of hours you work or the number of people you’ve served or the number of likes or views on your Instagram post?  Giving a TEDx talk?  Does it come after we’ve finally done or created “the thing?” We’ve written the book, created the program, given the talk, taught at THE place in THE room or on THE stage we’ve been aiming for… is that enough?  

It doesn’t seem it.  More often than not, people seem to turn around and start striving again for the next thing.  Sometimes they barely even acknowledge that accomplishment (no matter how huge) before shooting for the next. 

I’d like to share a little reflection I wrote about “Enough,” rising out of a beautiful conversation with my friend, Sharon Rosen, who told me of a beautiful Hebrew word, dayenu.  As Sharon explained it to me, dayenu means “it would have been enough.”  What a concept.  Something to rest into.  The way I want to live - so that when I die, I truly can feel “it was enough.” 

Enough
by Barb Klein
 
If I only did well with my own family, it would be enough.
If I only wrote this book for me, it would be enough.
If I’d only ever done what I’ve already done, it would have been enough.
If I could remember and believe this, I would believe I have nothing left to prove.  Nothing at all…
I am enough.  Exactly as I am.  What I’ve done - is enough.
 

Can I lean into my own enoughness?  Can I embrace it and simply live the rest of my life for me, tending to me?  Trusting that that will allow me to show up for others as a way that feels good, fills me, isn’t like the way anyone else is doing it? 

Can I let go of ideas of how things should go and allow them to unfold? 
Can I allow myself to be supported?
Can I be willing to ask for opportunities and for help to find these opportunities?
Focus on my own healing, growth, creativity, and let it lead where it may (or not).

It is enough. 
It will have been enough.
I feel the deep contentment in that.
 
It’s time to heal - to release all the grief I carry - to breathe in the pines.  To listen to the wind - to feel the breeze.
It’s enough.
 
Let go the rushing.
Let go the frenzy.

Let them have their fun - their antics - their way. 
You have yours and it is not theirs, most certainly.
You, my beloved, are enough, just as you are. 

If I never lost another pound,
built another muscle,
or walked another mile,
It would be enough. 
 
Nothing to push for, strive for, or drive for!
Those days are behind me.

There’s no goal I can achieve
that will make me any more me.
 
And that’s all I long to be -
Fully, wholeheartedly me!
 
We are such fascinating creatures with our stories of “I’m not enough!  I’m too much!  I have to do more! I have to keep going, doing, achieving, proving…”  Is any of it true?  Worth checking in on!  We are each whole, complete, and completely worthy just by being.  Our worth is not determined by anything outside of ourselves.  And we are the only ones who can decide for ourselves how much we want to do, how much we need to create, how much we need to serve, and what is enough. 
 
I invite you to check out Jen Louden’s wisdom on the Conditions of Enoughness and see how you might apply this in your own life.  YOU get to decide.  You get to define what is enough for you, based on your very real life.  You get to choose to lighten up a bit on yourself.  And to keep practicing, over and over, because this too, is a practice.  I’m working on it. 
 
Where can you lower the bar for yourself rather than continually raising it, raising it, raising it?  What can you rest into as “exactly enough?”  What are you striving for that you can relax about, let go of?  We are so hard on ourselves and so easily judgmental of what we have or haven’t done.  
 
Just for today… be gentle with yourself.  Just for today… let it be enough.  Whatever “it” is. 
 

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Enchantment

11/1/2022

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PictureAutumn Trees
Last time I wrote on September 7th, it was from a place of stillness…that magical place of contemplation and inner reflection.  It was right before I went into the studio to record 111 Invitations audio book!  I am thrilled to let you know that it is now finished and became available on Audible on October 19th (the anniversary of my Mama's passing)!!   It feels really good to bring to completion a project I've dreamt of for about 6 years! Sometimes these things take time. How cool that this post is going up on 11-1!?
 
Sometimes it's a matter of finding the right people or allowing enchantment and magic to do their thing… in this case, I had no idea who could help me, how much something like this would cost, if I even had the rights to do it, etc… then all of a sudden, I connected with just the right person (Jennifer Collins - more about her later) who connected me with another “just right” person - Linda Mazur (also more about her in a bit - the 3 of us, plus Linda's husband, Jack, are cooking up some special goodness in November which we hope you'll join us for! Keep scrolling for all the details!).  
 
Both of them connected me with Scott Fitzgerald of RocVox Recording (who I already sort of knew about because he records another friend's podcast…) and things came together super easily and super quickly! The studio location?  Um, the very same office space where I held my very first Discovering A New Life Direction workshop many moons ago!  I love those times of synchronicity, flow, ease, allowing things to unfold and come together with just the right amount of effort but very little force!  
 
There’s a little touch of enchantment in that!  “Enchantment…” a word that has awakened and enlivened me since Liz Gilbert offered an opportunity to know our enchantment in a virtual retreat.  She shared that enchantment is the part of you that likes things… it’s where you get that warm, yummy feeling inside.  Things like warm cinnamon vanilla pudding or a double rainbow or a baby’s giggle are laced with enchantment.  Enchantment lives in each of us…  
 
In a time of so much disenchantment it’s more important than ever that we find ways to connect with this vibrant energy.  That we ask it to tell us what it likes, what it hates, who it wants to be around and what it hopes we never do again.  Liz invited us each to write a letter to ourselves from our enchantment using the prompt “Dear _______,  I am your enchantment and this is what I want to tell you.”  
 
In 5 minutes, I had a letter that let me know so many truths about what I’m longing for, what I need more of in my life, what I need to let go of.  For those who know me, you know I am captivated by sunsets on a daily basis… doesn’t matter that they happen ever day. They take my breath away. Same with full moons, golden leaves, puppy dogs, and hot fresh-baked cinnamon fried cakes!  My enchantment loves to dance and sit by the fire.  She loves being with people I love and making time for deep connections and playful ones too.  She hates when I overwhelm my schedule with too many things or when I compare myself to others.  
 
As other people in the group shared their letters, we heard common themes and saw that enchantment doesn’t cost millions of dollars or require a lot of time. It only requires that we stop to notice… it often lies in simple things like nature or other people.  It exudes beauty.  It’s readily accessible.  It awakens our spirit and carries hope.  It lives in fun and play.  
 
Since that day in mid-September, I have added a bit of communing with enchantment each day in my morning journaling.  I ask it what it’s got for me today.  I notice my interactions with it are more playful than even my gratitude or when I was asking Love what it would have me know.  With enchantment it’s more of a light-hearted banter.  She reminds me to lighten up and not take things too seriously, while also encouraging me not to miss the most precious moments.  I’ve turned to her on hard, sad days to see how she might accompany me even then.  She reminds me what matters most and to not be too hard on myself.  
 
She often reminds me, “Have fun!  Don’t take it or yourself too seriously! Play with it!  Have fun with it!  Let me dance through it… let inspiration come…”  On particularly hard days she holds me with “Be brave.  Stand up for you.  Don’t back down or hurt yourself to make someone else happy.  Not for one minute.  Don’t do it!  Do not abandon yourself! Let yourself breathe and live and be who you are.  Claim your life.  Claim your joy.  Love yourself.”  Another time she offered, “Thank you for finding me again.  I want to play with you.  Bring me into everything - let me be a guiding light.  It's so much more fun that way!  Let me lighten up the dark and heavy times and add sparkle and juice to the fun ones!”  She’s pretty wise, very loving, and has a great sense of humor!  
 
My invitation to you: 
Give it a try!  I invite you to take 5 minutes and write yourself a letter from your enchantment.  Start with Dear____ and see what enchantment would call you (it might be a playful nickname!), I am your enchantment and I want to tell you…   See what it likes, what it hates, who it wants to be around and with whom it doesn’t feel it can come out at all.  
 
Let this energy enliven your days and ways.  I could feel it coursing through my veins for about a month til I lost touch with it a little in the daily grind.  I’m re-connecting now and am very grateful to do so! I invite you to let enchantment light up your days.  
 
Meditation
Our meditation this week, Autumnal Walk Guided Meditation, is led by guest meditator, Laura Gavigan, Founder of Mindful Matters in Rochester, NY.  It is the perfect accompaniment for theme.  Laura guides us on a sensory-rich autumn walk.  I hope you enjoy it and that it brings you the peace and calm it brought to me. 
 
My SoundCloud library has a wide variety of meditations - check it out and see which ones call to you.  

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Revival!

8/31/2022

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Picture
Revival - an improvement in the condition or strength of something. (as defined by Oxford Languages).

When I first thought about “revival,” I thought it meant “brought back to life.” I suppose that would certainly be considered an “improvement in the condition or strength of something,” wouldn’t it?  So, I am going to stick with that felt sense of the word. 

I’ve had a month of revival, and I must say I’m emerging with a fresh energy, a renewed and deepened connection with myself, and a fresh enthusiasm to engage with life and this next chapter in a beautiful way. I’m looking at my work with fresh eyes and a willingness to shake things up.

In July I got a very strong internal hit to step away, pull back from obligations and work that wasn’t filling me any longer. That hit also came with a strong desire to add in more fun, more play, more rest, more joy.  And so, I did.

I cleared my calendar of appointments that could wait til later.  I bought tickets to live music, which I have learned in recent years is a thing that fills my soul and is something my husband and I enjoy doing together.  I jumped into the Great Rhythm Revival (that “thing” I mentioned in my last newsletter) very spontaneously and a little uncertainly.  I booked a trip to Omega Institute to meet a friend I’d only known by Zoom and phone for 2 ½ years – we’d co-facilitated 2 online retreats in that time but we had never actually been in the same room together, never shared a hug or a deep sit-down face-to-face conversation!  I bought tickets to the Avett Brothers in Chautauqua and then added to a day pass so that we could listen to Scott Avett’s non-lecture about spirituality, faith, and creativity which led us to add an extra night to our stay and invite a couple of friends to join us.  I found a gorgeous simple peaceful cottage on the lake to hold us for those nights. 

I’ve been on the road A LOT!  Probably away from home more than not this past month. But, because it was fueled by joy, I feel filled up rather than depleted.  Revived, if you will! 

So, this Great Rhythm Revival… what the heck is that?  I wasn’t sure other than knowing I was jumping into some peace, love, and granola kind of happening with drumming, dancing, and fire.  I went with Sandi Sabene, my partner for this year’s retreat and a friend who I haven’t had much chance to play with and a dear friend of hers.  I could have (and would have in the past) felt like a third wheel, an outsider, especially since these two are beloved members of this community that has formed over many years.  But, I didn’t.  Why?  Because I went in with a solid sense of myself and a strong ability and desire to take care of my needs during our time together.  I let go of FOMO and gave myself permission to listen to my body, heart, and spirit – to nap on our porch rather than join a workshop, to dance rather than write, to go to bed rather than go to the fire.  To say “yes” to me rather than to other people’s expectations or desires. 

I also gave myself full permission to let loose and find the carefree, joyful me who was so hungry to come out and play!  To close my eyes and drum even though I don’t really know how.  To join the transformative dance workshops and let my body move as it wanted to move (which was way more than it has in the past year or more due to a lengthy bout of frozen shoulder).  To say “yes” to the body paint (a little the first night and all in the second) before the dance party!  To dance in the front row and not care that I’m so tall.  To sweat.  To jump into the pond and float with women I was just meeting for the first time.  To talk to strangers – to dare to believe that I might belong.  To meet new people and to buy my ticket for next year because I know this is good medicine for my soul! 

During that weekend I found or reconnected with parts of myself that had been sleeping for too long.  My nervous system settled, awakened, healed in ways it hasn’t in a very long time.  I was nourished and fueled on all levels.  The conditions and strength of my something was very much improved! 

I returned home with a solid connection to my true self. I felt grounded and strong.  I had crystal clarity, which allowed me to stand on my ground and face some BS that came my way almost immediately.  Finding ourselves and letting ourselves free is vital to our life force energy.  It’s critical to be solid in our own core in order to not be buffeted around by life and other people. 

I feel like I’m in the gooey phase of transformation/transmutation now… like the caterpillar in the cocoon, in the dark, but not in a bad way.  There’s been a strong desire and need to go within, to find quiet and stillness in order to hear the whispers of my soul, the calls for what’s next. 

I don’t know what’s next, and that’s ok.  In this space I don’t have to know.  I only have to be open.  To listen deeply to my heart and soul – to follow the inner nudges that do know.  To sit with the not knowing and allow things to unfold. To catch and follow the fresh inspiration when it comes. 

This phase is calling me to let go of things I’ve done for a long time, and trust that I will be able to create anew when the time is right.  I’m not trying to box anything in to what it used to be or what I’ve always done. I’m not trying to force or figure anything out.  Aaahhh… it feels like a breath of fresh air that I can expand into rather than a stagnant stale container cramping me in. 

On my solo drive to Omega, I listened to great podcasts (Cheryl Strayed on We Can Do Hard Things – 2 episodes – really lit my fire!).  I listened closely and paid attention to what their conversation awakened within me.  I longed to devote more time to my writing and for writing time with Cheryl.  I’m taking steps to honor this deep knowing.  Shortly after returning home, I saw that shel is offering a writing workshop in Omega!  I am returning before too long!!  Opening to one of my core gifts, to one of my principal practices and mediums, to inspiration, to a place and space that nurtures and nourishes me in a deep, deep way!  I’m excited! 

Listening to Scott Avett talk about not wanting to be boxed in or blocked out by labels, I felt a deep resonance in my core. Scott spoke of the need to be real, even in front of other people.  To let content arise from lived experience.  As I witnessed the band shake off any perception that they were simply a “folk band” with a strong rock and roll show, I smiled, imagining their intention.  “You think we’re folk?  Watch this!”  It was an amazing performance, coming from the authenticity of the band members.  Perhaps the best show I’ve ever seen from them. Why?  Because they were letting themselves out to shine and play!  They were being moved from the inside out! 

I have many reflections living within me from this month of revival. I have so much gratitude for those who flicked me awake and to myself for being there for it!  For showing up, ready and willing to be awakened, ready and willing to take a risk, ready and willing to break free, just a little bit more, letting go of some of the cares about what others think of me or expect from me in order to more fully honor myself. 

Sounds selfish, doesn’t it?  And yet, I have no doubt that all of this revival will allow me to serve the world in a better and stronger way than I have before.  I don’t know exactly what that means, but I’m ready and excited to witness and be part of the unfolding. 

Your turn…
What’s feeling old and stale to you?  Where can you shake things up a bit, in a really good way?  Where might you bring in more joy and playfulness to your days?  Where can you add in fun?  What can you cancel or reschedule that maybe doesn’t have to happen right now? What truly matters most to you right now – at this moment in your life? What parts of you have been sleeping or gone missing for too long?  What parts have not yet been discovered?  Where would you like to begin your revival? 

If you'd like a short meditation practice to support you, I've recorded Revival just for you! 


If the Great Rhythm Revival sounds good to you, check it out and join me next year!  As I was promised, you won’t be disappointed and you’ll likely love it! 

Want to give yourself a little revival much sooner than next August?  Join me and Sandi Sabene (she was the friend I went to Revival with and has facilitated drum circles and creative expression experiences for decades) at Let Your Light Shine Women’s Retreat Sept. 23-27.  She and I are lit up and so excited to be co-creating this magical 5-day experience together!  

Five spots remain.  This retreat may not happen again (at least not in its current form), so if this version is calling you, now is the time to jump in!  Don’t put it off til “next year!”  

I just don't know for sure what's coming.  I know there will be more retreats. I know there will be fresh and inspired offerings... so, stay tuned as more is revealed over the coming days and months!  This is where I am -  truly am in a space of wonder, curiosity, and possibility, discovering for myself what will be next! I'm excited!  And, you'll be the first to know! 

​And, as you can see from the rest of this post, I feel like it's always a good idea to seize the opportunities as they come rather than wait!  

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    About me...

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

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

    What's real for you? What would you like me to write about?  Feel free to share with me topics you would like to see discussed and please join in the dialogue through the comment section. Your engagement makes the blog a much richer place to hang out!

    Thank you for joining me on this journey!!    

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Barb Klein
Inspired Possibility
585-705-8740
barb@inspiredpossibility.com