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Going On...Even when Life is Forever Changed

5/5/2023

4 Comments

 
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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The Gift of Presence

12/29/2022

4 Comments

 
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This Christmas I had the opportunity to experience the gift that mere presence brings.  What’s possible when I shut my mouth and just listen.  Listen with an open heart and open mind, setting aside my own ideas and agendas. 

Presence like this opens doors, builds trust and safety in a way that allows others to come forward - to open up and give me an idea of what life is like for them, what is going on inside of their experience. 

When I stop nagging, badgering, interrogating, and lecturing (which, let’s be honest, NO ONE likes!  It is never helps connection or makes anything truly positive happen), love enters in.  Hearts open to one another.  We can relax into being together and be a little more real… 

It comes down to who I want to be and how I want to be.  This is where I have agency and choice. I am not pre-programmed or unable to control my own behavior and words.  Based on my values (what really matters most to me), based on my story of who I say I am, it’s up to me to do more than just pay lip service to what I say I’m all about. 

It’s up to me to actually BE the way I aspire to be.  I can also bring in lots of compassion and grace when I slip up (which I most certainly will!) - this is not about perfection.  It is about generous compassion for all. 

When I step back, silently, and allow myself to observe and see what’s going on, I might recognize the struggle someone is having.  I realize that it’s not their fault or choice.  They don’t choose to be in this struggle.  I can have compassion.  I can offer a calm presence for someone who’s feeling a little jangly to regulate with rather than adding to the angst or presenting something to fight against or feel bad about. 

I can simply offer my truly loving presence.  This allows me to hear how surprised someone is by how well they’re doing. I can hear the self-doubt that lives so close to the surface.  I can hear how little they believe in or trust themselves.  How they’re finding their way, tentatively beginning to form a new story.  Inviting, allowing them to soften to me - to trust that I am a safe place to land.  That I won’t use their admissions against them.

I can look for what’s going right, what there is to celebrate, rather than focus on what is missing or what could be.  I can follow the rhythm and flow of this group I’m with in this time… not impose my idealized story of what “should” be. 

Over the years I have ruined many special events for myself and others by letting my expectations or ideas of how things should be cloud the reality of what and who is here right now. 

I’m the one who still feels the pang of guilt over how ungraciously I responded to my sister’s massively generous gift of a handcrafted framed Holly Hobbie needlework (50 years ago!).  I was too young to appreciate what it meant for her to pour her heart, soul, and time into this beautiful piece just for me.  It wasn’t a toy. I was a brat.  And. I responded with the appropriate bratty pout for the rest of the day. 

I am the one who hit my friend, Steven. when he gave me a beautiful Breyer horse for my birthday.  The gift was more than I could bear.  Pretty sure that was the same year - 8-year-old me had some issues… 

I am the one who often feels let down after the holiday is over - the days and weeks of build-up falling hollow when everyone leaves.  Wanting more.  Wanting different.  Regret at what wasn’t. Disappointment. 

Not this year.  This year I chose differently. 

I reminded myself in my journaling and asked my husband to help me remember to appreciate what’s here.  I stayed present to the miracle we were given in being able to all be together for 2 nights and 3 days, sharing one house, sharing meals, visiting, talking, laughing till bedtime.  Wiggling through the tense moments but not blowing them up into more than they needed to be.  Staying kind even when I had to have an uncomfortable conversation.   Resting gradually in each other’s presence.  Honoring the rhythm and flow of this family.  Noticing when the “what should we DO now?” anxiety temporarily poked at me… allowing things to unfold organically rather than forcing a reading of The Grinch, a making of the gingerbread house (that is still waiting patiently in its box for when the right time), watching an old holiday show that no one but me enjoys.  Let that go.  Open to what they want.  Invite everyone into something new.  Just breathe.  Just be.  Play the kids’ Christmas music rather than my mom’s old playlist.  Be playful, lighthearted, enjoy.  Them.  For who they are.  As they are.  As we are.  In this moment. 

That way of being opened up something in me that still touches my heart.  I can almost cry as I soak in the deep appreciation for this precious time with my husband and grown sons.  There wasn’t anything too profound in our being together except that it was all profound.  To witness the initial discomfort and awkwardness melt away as we settled in to being together. To relax into noticing and allowing each of us to have our own unique ways and needs.  To hug, smile, laugh… to really stay in a place of appreciating what was, what is, what’s here, what’s true, what’s real, what’s good and wonderful.  Holding back judgment or inclination to offer unwelcome suggestions or unkind observations.  Allowing others to find their own way in life in their own time. 

Letting love guide the way, be the true foundation for our time together, for our life.  The generosity of presence is the truest gift we can offer another being. It is the greatest gift we can offer ourselves.  To listen deep within, to remember who we want to become in this next iteration, to show up to what we say we want to create with others, to be sincere in our efforts and digging in to show up in that way.  Not expecting it to be easy, perfect, or even comfortable, but allowing the unfolding. 
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This Christmas I was given the gift of connection with my family, getting to know them in a way I had not before.  Together we created the gift of presence.  My heart remains full.  ❤


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Out of the Darkness & Into the Light...

12/21/2022

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As I revisit and revise this post, originally written for MomPower in 2020 and then re-written for this blog last year, I am feeling into what's alive for me at this moment. I am grateful to re-read this message and take it into my own heart as I sit with myself with tears streaming down my face. I offer it to you again with love.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let’s face it, the past 3 years have carried a full load of darkness, collectively, along with anything that you might have experienced personally. 

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

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

“Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” ~ Brene Brown
 
So, let this pivotal day be a day that marks the honoring of both the dark and the light.  Let us take a step back and look at the big picture of our lives and recognize that our experiences have not been all good or all bad, but rather a mix of both. 

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

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

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

The Places We Grow
It’s in the dark,
in the shadows,
where we stretch and grow.
 
We face ourselves
and see a new or forgotten aspect,
a piece we’d rather ignore or deny.
 
But there it is…
staring us down,
daring us to change,
to find a new way,
or to simply come into acceptance.
 
Sometimes it’s about overcoming
or adjusting.
Finding a way to do this with
love, compassion,
and gentle communion.
 
Honoring the self…
who I am,
where I am,
what I need,
what my baggage is.
 
And stepping into a deeper layer,
excavating and shifting,
allowing new light in,
and new hope out.
 
These are the places we grow –
often watered
and nourished with tears.
 © Barb Klein, 2016, “The Places We Grow,” from 111 Invitations: Step into the Full Richness of Life
 
Where and how can you nourish yourself today?  How might you allow some new light in--to your being, to your life?  How can you allow a little more hope to shine into the world? 
 
Begin by greeting yourself exactly where you are--gently, with tenderness, care, and compassion.  Offer yourself the space and grace to feel into what’s alive within your heart at this moment.  Ask your heart what it needs at this moment to be truly nurtured and nourished.  Then respond accordingly.  You deserve your own loving care.
 
We are on the cusp of a new year and we can only hope that 2023 is bringing with it new possibility, hope, and fresh beginnings.  Today let’s pause.  Let’s look at our lives and our loved ones with reverence. Let’s honor this journey where we have walked, crawled, and stumbled while we look ahead to the light of new creativity.  Let’s let this darkest day of the year—December 21-- be a personal pivotal moment for us to enter an illuminated future.  
​

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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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Love IS Tough!

8/1/2022

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PictureImage 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

4 Comments

 
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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:
  1. We all have inner wisdom, inner guidance, inner authority. 
  2. When we are depleted, overwhelmed, stressed, or in crisis or survival mode, we lose touch with it.
  3. 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.
  4. 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. 
  5. Integrity comes from living in alignment with our inner knowing and guidance. 
  6. 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. 
  7. 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. 
  8. 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.  


4 Comments

Boundaries... Tough, and So Critical!

6/16/2022

1 Comment

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

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

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

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


Enter boundaries

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And at the same time, I love, respect, and honor those who are able to say no to me even when I say “I could really use a friend…“  This happened once with one of my oldest and dearest friends.  It stung in the moment.  It was also painful for her, but she felt the truth of having nothing to give.  And, it taught me an invaluable lesson and modeled for me what’s possible.
 
Somehow, she knew that I would be OK even though I felt like I was falling apart in that moment. She knew that even if I didn’t find anyone else to talk to, I was able to be with myself and make it through the deeply painful and awful time.

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

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

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

Boundaries are an Act of Radical Self-Care

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

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

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

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

Boundaries are about Respect – for Me and for You

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

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

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

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

Boundaries are about Compassion

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


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

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

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

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

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

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    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!

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