Inspired Possibility Blog

What Does it Mean to "Fill Your Own Cup?"

2/15/2022

We hear it all the time… “You can’t pour from an empty cup!” And, no one disagrees. But, the problem with these simple pithy phrases is that we all know them, recite them and hear them with a “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know…” attitude, brushing the words off as quickly as they land on our ears. We don’t really take them to heart, and if we do, we think they’re meant for other people. In fact, we probably offer this sage advice without stopping to take a look at what it might mean to us in our world!

This might be especially important if you:
- live in service to others
- tend to over-give your time, energy, resources, and attention away to the point that you are feeling drained and depleted. You frequently give to and do more for others than you do for yourself.
- consider yourself to be codependent
- are grieving. Grief takes time and an enormous amount of energy and naturally saps you of your usual resources.
- live in a situation that brings a lot of chaos and unpredictability (or you’ve had a significant amount of this throughout your years).
- don’t allow others to support you, or even let them know what you need. Maybe asking for help feels too vulnerable or you aren’t even sure what you do need.
- are one of the many, many workers who don’t stop for a lunch break, who don’t really check out from work, even during “off work” hours or on vacation.
- are someone who feels guilty just considering taking time for yourself.
- are immersing yourself in good and important causes (think opioid epidemic, climate crisis, social injustice, anti-racism, to name a few of many).
- find yourself continually worrying and fretting about things that are out of your control or beyond your influence and you find the feeling of powerlessness only adds to your anxiety.
- have been a human on this earth for the past couple of years… yeah, you. This is for you!

Filling ourselves up, regularly and repeatedly, not just a few times a year with a retreat or vacation is critical. With the steady onslaught of anxiety-producing news and information coming at us, we need a consistent way to bolster ourselves up and resource ourselves. Living in a pandemic has exacerbated this need!

Living in a way that is sustainable, realistic, and enjoyable is worth aiming for. Otherwise, we become like a sieve that is leaking energy everywhere.

What will fill you up?
Let’s explore this a bit. Many people, including me, don’t have a lot of ideas. Do you know what is fun, relaxing, nourishing, restorative, or comforting for you?

If not, you might consider this list of Pleasant Activities (disregarding all that clinical stuff at the top – this is just for you!) and see which ones resonate with you. There are more than 130 ideas here, so if you need a kickstart to explore some fresh ideas, give it a go! We begin to be able to make changes when we get to know ourselves better!

When you engage in an activity or hang out with a certain person, does it leave you feeling energized or exhausted?

When you read or listen to something, what effect does that have on you? We have to digest everything we take in, so be sure you’re not adding to your own anxiety or exhaustion without even intending to.

There are 2 aspects to filling up:

Stop the leaking/fill the holes where you’re being drained – getting to know the places where you’re giving away more of yourself than you have to give and/or where you’re taking in stuff that sucks the life out of you (Less is More )
Adding something in to fill up again – we have a vital life force energy within us, this magical elixir of life – it can be replenished so finding practices, people, activities that give us a boost will help with this aspect. (Sometimes More is More)

Stopping the leaking and filling the holes – releasing and letting go:

What can you let go of? Here are a few ideas to get you started:

quiet the outer noise (other people’s opinions, ideas, and thoughts of who you should be and what you should do. Other people’s drama!)
stop ruminating on things that are not yours to fix or figure out. Things that are out of your control
stop feeding worry – if you’re a world class worrier like I am, worry will find you. You can’t control that. What you can control is how long you spend with it and how much you do to stir it up and amplify it.
let go of abandoning yourself… how often do you let your own needs, priorities, boundaries slip away in favor of what someone else needs or wants from you even if you had calendared yourself in? What might it look like to begin to make yourself a priority? Or to just be willing to consider making yourself a priority?

Adding in – finding those things you want more of to fill you with vital energy – asking, receiving, creating:

What might you like to bring in to help you fill up? Here are a few ideas to get you started:

throw a light novel into the mix if you tend to read heavy stuff or lots of personal growth books (not that I know anything about that!)
the arts! Poetry, music, dance, song, paint, write, or create and express just for the pure joy of creating and expressing!
nature! fresh air, sunshine, time with the pure simplicity of nature’s sounds and sights – drink in that beauty
pauses – allow time and space for healing, for rest, for gentle evolution
breath… more breath! And movement. Movement that is pleasurable or enjoyable to you!

I offer this reflection and inquiry with zero judgement and no shame. I am a work in progress in many of these areas myself (I am always writing about what I am learning!). We are all works in progress.

So, as you get curious, be gentle, come with tenderness, compassion, and understanding.

How might you nourish yourself, body, mind, heart, and soul? In this week of love, how might you weave in some self-love?

All of this boils down to deep, deep true self-care.

Self-care is the foundation upon which a life is built.
Without it, we will crumble from the inside out!

Your Invitation:
Take some time to reflect on any changes you might want to make in your life in order to fill your own cup. Pause and look at the clouds as you consider what it means to you to fill your cup and why it might be worth devoting some time to. Share your ideas and thoughts here! There is power in giving voice to your intention and being witnessed. And, you just might inspire someone else!!

For me… after writing draft one of this and before going on to editing or recording the accompanying meditation, I’m going to get outside, take a walk (because I’ve been sitting for too long), sit in the sun and listen to the birds and ocean waves while I watch the dogs play! I hope you find something equally relaxing!! (thought I'd share with you what I found!)

I invite you to practice Filling Your Cup with this meditation if you'd like!

2 Comments

In This Moment...

1/30/2022

2 Comments

Photo Credit: Renee Veniskey, Immagine Photography

I'm grateful to have reconnected with one of my most favorite self-care practices this week - the practice of being with myself “in this moment…” When (and “when” is the key!) I can remember this and take the time to sit with this awareness, I can bring myself some calm, some peace, some grounding into this body, this breath. I can quiet my very busy and tricky mind. I can soothe the worry, which, no matter how ineffective it is, I often can't stop. I can remind myself of who's here with me, where I am, and that I don't want to miss this moment for fear of the future or by swimming in the past too much.

I have found that in the spaciousness of that moment when I think I'm ready to fall asleep, my mind isn't always on board. It often starts creating a plan, fixating on an upcoming conversation, writing a letter, or imagining all the ways things could go wrong 6 months down the road. It doesn't have nearly enough information, so it gets busy anticipating worse case scenarios. My mind knows me well, so it knows my blind spots and ambushes me with them! However, it forgets my strengths and skills - it forgets all the work I've done and the practices I've established to help me stay present, healthy, and mentally sound. It forgets that I am not the same person I was in the past, and that I'm stepping into what's next with more resources and supports. When my mind forgets and sweeps me away, I too easily get caught up in it.

The tricky thing is when we're not at the top of our game due to stress, overwhelm, or grief, it can be hard to remember that we have ways to bring ourselves back to ground. It is so easy to forget what we know and so hard to tap into our practices!

The other night I found myself in this place where my mind was kicking into its spin cycle. I started with my breath, saying to myself “Sleep” on the inhale and “Now” on the exhale. That didn't really work, so instead I called in the awareness practice of “In this moment…” Silently naming what's true, what I am aware of here and now… “In this moment, I am lying here beside my husband (who is already asleep), listening to his breathing. Perhaps I can sync up with his rhythm to help me drift off. I am safe. I am warm. My bed is cozy. I am in this beautiful place...

"In this moment…there is nothing I can do about what's happening at our little house (though I do hope she's weathering this brutal winter ok). So let that go. There's nothing I can do for my son right now, and as far as I know he's safe in this moment. So let that go. There is nothing for me to figure out about future plans right now…So let that go. This breath. This moment. This body. Right here. Right now." Now I can pair my breath with the phrase, “Be here now (pause)…be here now…” and I can feel my body relax a bit as my breath deepens and slows. My mind begins to quiet as it focuses on the here and now, and all of me settles down enough to where sleep eventually comes.

I know that in order to have my best thoughts and access my most creative ideas, I need my rest! But, if I ruminate on that truth for too long, I can add stress by worrying that I'm not going to get enough sleep (which will undoubtedly assure that I won't!). See how this spin cycle is fed and fueled??
Today I had a yoga class that so beautifully brought me to myself - home to the reality of this body with this breath - that I almost wanted to cry for how grateful I was that I could reconnect so deeply with myself. So grateful that our teacher began the class with this beautiful reading by John Roedel (who is appearing everywhere in my world lately - just sent 2 books to my son and bought one for myself! I love the way he explores and sees the world!). Please check him out! He has a great Facebook page where he shares his writings.

my brain and
heart divorced

a decade ago

over who was
to blame about
how big of a mess
I have become

eventually,
they couldn't be
in the same room
with each other

now my head and heart
share custody of me

I stay with my brain
during the week

and my heart
gets me on weekends

they never speak to one another
- instead, they give me
the same note to pass
to each other every week

and their notes they
send to one another always
says the same thing:

"This is all your fault"

on Sundays
my heart complains
about how my
head has let me down
in the past

and on Wednesday
my head lists all
of the times my
heart has screwed
things up for me
in the future

they blame each
other for the
state of my life

there's been a lot
of yelling - and crying

so,
lately, I've been
spending a lot of
time with my gut

who serves as my
unofficial therapist

most nights, I sneak out of the
window in my ribcage

and slide down my spine
and collapse on my
gut's plush leather chair
that's always open for me

~ and I just sit sit sit sit
until the sun comes up

last evening,
my gut asked me
if I was having a hard
time being caught
between my heart
and my head

I nodded

I said I didn't know
if I could live with
either of them anymore

"my heart is always sad about
something that happened yesterday
while my head is always worried
about something that may happen tomorrow,"
I lamented

my gut squeezed my hand

"I just can't live with
my mistakes of the past
or my anxiety about the future,"
I sighed

my gut smiled and said:
"in that case,
you should
go stay with your
lungs for a while,"

I was confused
- the look on my face gave it away

"if you are exhausted about
your heart's obsession with
the fixed past and your mind's focus
on the uncertain future

your lungs are the perfect place for you

there is no yesterday in your lungs
there is no tomorrow there either

there is only now
there is only inhale
there is only exhale
there is only this moment

there is only breath

and in that breath
you can rest while your
heart and head work
their relationship out."

this morning,
while my brain
was busy reading
tea leaves

and while my
heart was staring
at old photographs

I packed a little
bag and walked
to the door of
my lungs

before I could even knock
she opened the door
with a smile and as
a gust of air embraced me
she said

"what took you so long?"
~ john roedel
link to post on facebook
To anyone who loves this author's words, he has written several books! Check out his website at https://www.johnroedel.com

Ahhh… this I know. And, the visuals of moving from one internal place to another and resting in the lungs with the breath, where this is no yesterday or tomorrow… this really helped me to find this place. What a welcome resting place. A beautiful respite that (if only briefly) interrupts the ruminating, plotting, scheming, obsessing, fretting, sadness and fear. The breath can hold me. The body is right here - no past or future for it either. I know this. And, I forget this regularly. When I remember and return, I am once again filled up, nourished, held.

I really am doing ok. It's also true that I have been really sad and scared lately. Learning to reach out for support and help (which is the topic of a whole other blog, I'm sure! Learning a lot more about this thing which I teach!). Deeply grateful for the people who've given me permission to call on them at any time and allowing myself to believe them.

So, next time you find yourself feeling out of sorts, getting caught up in the spin cycle of life, pause. Find yourself here. And talk yourself through the reality that “in this moment” is here. See if it offers you any sort of peace, comfort, or calm. And let me know.

Thoughts? Reflections? Please share your thoughts in the comments section below. Let's grow together in this practice of mindful presence.

Want more exploration into In This Moment, you can read the post I wrote 4 years ago almost to this date... apparently this is the time of year this concept comes alive strongly for me!

If you know others who are grieving, please share my blog. Invite them to subscribe if you enjoy my writing. Share my resource page with those who could use some free support. I have lots of resources specifically for grief as well living in tumultuous times, mindfulness, and living with substance use disorder.

This week I have two meditations to offer you! Try one or both and see what resonates with you. This Moment. This Breath . (19 min.) and In This Moment (8 ½ minutes) - both offer a chance to meet yourself where you are today and to create a sense of groundedness and presence. Meditation continues to strongly support me through my darkest times as it strengthens my ability to be with what is. It's why I stay with it and why I share it with you.

Please visit my library of meditations and choose what will support you day by day.

2 Comments

Swimming in the Messy Stages of Grief

1/18/2022

6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

6 Comments

Good Grief, Gratitude, and Grace

1/7/2022

1 Comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inconceivable
by Barb Klein from 111 Invitations

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

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

Anguish
Sadness
Confusion
Loss

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

Perspective comes
in these moments
of grief.

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

Knowing not what we need
or how anyone can help.

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

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

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Lessons, Legacy, and Lightness...

12/7/2021

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It’s been a week… a week of BIG lessons, of reflecting on legacy, and of weaving lightness into it all (thanks to a friend reminding me of that one!). Much of this came from being on retreat with a beautiful group of wise, loving, vulnerable, courageous, and open-hearted women. Being in community like that seems to draw out deeper insights and wisdom than what I could discover on my own. Sharing silence, sharing meals, sharing practices like meditation, yoga, and Tai Chi somehow deepens and enhances them. And, retreat has a magic of its own… it works on us in its own way, for sure!

Lessons learned:

Sharing the load, whether it’s work or pain is a beautiful opportunity that brings deep relief and enriches everyone
We all carry pain, grief, and unimaginable turns of events in our lives. We do not have to carry our pain alone when we can find people we trust. Comparing our stories or circumstances to anyone else’s can silence us and lead us to stuff what we’re feeling, and that’s just not helpful. Our pain is valid too. Stuffing it or holding it in silence is unsustainable – find someone you trust to share a bit with.
Same with our dreams – we don’t have to hold them alone in silence. When we can find people with “believing eyes” as Sonia Choquette calls them, our dreams, hopes, and visions get infused with a fresh energy! And, there’s no point in comparing our dreams to anyone else’s. You’re not here to live out anyone’s ideas and purpose other than your own!
Laughter is good for the soul. Right!? You already knew that! It’s especially good when the world feels so heavy. Go ahead… have a great belly laugh as soon as you can!
We all want to be seen and heard. To know that we matter, at least to one other being. We have no idea who’s listening or who we’re reaching simply by being who we are. Trust me. You matter.
When we share our stories, our sadness, our regrets, our hopes, and our visions, we give others permission to do the same. Also, as we listen to others, we find more threads of commonality than we could have imagined. We can relate on a heart level to one another’s joys, hopes, sadness, fear, and grief and marvel at our interconnection.
Opening our hearts softens us. Compassion and love are limitless. And, it’s in our softness that we find our true power – not from muscling through, pushing on, or forcing things, but from relaxing and allowing ourselves a willingness to hear and feel what feels right and true for us.
We are often much better at knowing what others need and caring for them than we are at knowing what we need and how to care for ourselves. But, as we learn to turn our TLC toward ourselves, allowing ourselves to be filled up and nourished, everyone benefits.
We are also much better at seeing other people’s gifts while we are so often blind to our own. We extend them generosity, grace, and permission that we deny ourselves. We invite them to share their insights and creativity, and too often we hold back our own.
People are WEARY! There is too much noise out there right now. Our bodies need rest, our minds need rest, our souls need rest, and our hearts need rest. They also need quiet in order to have the space to hear inner wisdom, to tap into creativity, to gain fresh perspective, or to consider a new possibility. And, we all need to feel connection and love.
Silence is the secret sauce that opens hearts, sets souls free, and invites us to hear the wisdom of our own whisperings.
Sometimes our isolation is self-imposed. We may have set up walls or hidden away for one reason or another. The good news is that we hold the key to setting ourselves free!
We too often suffer silently while others are oh so willing to extend a hand, offer a hug, sit and simply listen, or allow you to delegate a piece of the work to them.
No one needs fixing, saving, or advising! They may need a sounding board. They may need to hear themselves talk something through. They might even ask for suggestions, but most often when given space and time, they are able to tap into their own guidance and wisdom and find the ideas and answers that suit them.
Challenging our assumptions and beliefs is a valuable and worthwhile exercise. When we think we know for certain, it is worth pausing and asking, “Am I sure that this is true?” Particularly when what we are thinking is that we are unwelcome, unworthy, undeserving, unacceptable, or un-anything…
When we show up and get out of our own way, beautiful things can happen!
Listen more than you talk. Give your attention… and speak when your heart compels you to (there’s usually something that someone needs to hear when we come from this place).

I’m reading a great book now called More Time to Think by Nancy Kline, and in it she clarifies “Listening to reply is (very) different than listening to ignite.” Oh yes! Listen… take in this being who’s sharing with you. Listen with your whole being. Listen without waiting to add your thoughts, and when you are inspired to respond (from that heart-centered place), do so in a way that inspires something within them!

From Cathy Dasson, yoga teacher and yoga therapist extraordinaire (who offered this beautiful yoga nidra a few weeks ago): “Do what you need. Nothing more. Effortless effort. You’re amazing when you soften!”
And, declare out loud and preferable with joyful dance, I AM HERE! (Thank you, Pink, for this amazing song! We had a lot of fun letting ourselves break free with it this weekend!).
Let delight enter your days! Embrace who you were born to be while you let go of the ideas of who you’ve imagined yourself to be, and claim the life you are here to live!
Legacy can be thought of as simply asking how you want people to feel for having known you or been in your presence. What do you hope they will say about you when you’re gone? What core qualities do you want to spread? These can be your North Star that guides everything you do, from work to friendships to family relationships. These qualities are the magic recipe that make up you! They are irreplicable for there is only one you walking this earth at this time.

So, that’s a bit of what I’ve learned this past week! You most certainly don’t need my permission, but I’m going to offer it anyway in hopes that it will encourage you to find your own “permission granted” statements. Permission granted to let others help you carry your burden or struggle. Permission granted to ask for and receive support (I promise you it gets easier as you do it more often, even if it’s wickedly uncomfortable at first! It sure was for me!!). Permission granted to acknowledge your needs, your longings, your desires, wishes, and hopes, and to ask for what YOU need! Permission granted to be you!!

What resonates with you? What would you question, disagree with or push back on?

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Sometimes, More is More...

11/11/2021

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After last week’s share about how “Less is More,” I got thinking (as I tend to do), and considering that less is not always more. For instance, after 3 nights of pretty rotten (and not nearly enough) sleep in the energy and noise that is New York City, having a solid night’s sleep in the peace and quiet of this neighborhood I live in reminded me just how delicious a long, uninterrupted sleep is and how much it benefits my whole being!

The “more is more” reflection from my morning journaling:
What is it that I want more of in my life? What do I want to cultivate more of? More peace, more love, more sleep, more deep connection, more fun and laughter! More ease, more presences, more space and breathing room… more time for writing and the things that truly matter.

More compassion and gentleness – less judgment and harshness – for myself and others. More curiosity, less needing to be right or even to know. More wonder, more play. More friendships that inspire and are mutually supportive. More ease (I know I said that already – I see a theme!), less work and worry. More time for contemplation and reflection – more deepening and listening to my own guidance and wisdom.

More time to play and prepare food that is more nourishing to my body, mind, heart, and soul. More love – did I say that already? More openness to possibility with less need to meet anyone else’s standards, to achieve, to prove, or even to do. More being… here, feeling into this moment, appreciating what’s here, looking around and seeing the beauty, breathing in nature’s amazing breathtaking glory.

More fresh air – less TV. More quiet – less noise. More trust, less fear, which means paying attention to whose voices and what influences I allow into my being. More joy. More permission – to be me, to follow my desires, to take time for the things that just plain feel good. Just because.

More deeply felt gratitude. More embodying and living into the things I know intellectually – taking it beyond surface recitation and bringing it into my way of being, of living. Filling up in ways that are truly fulfilling, nourishing, and supportive. More alone time to know what those are. More discernment before I say yes or no.

More heart, less head-guided movement. More slowing down and less rushing to cram in more. More acceptance of my physical, emotional, and very human limitations. More acceptance in general – of the way things are, of other people and their paths and views. But also more intolerance of the places that need it – intolerance where things desperately need to change. More acceptance of the very imperfection of being a human. More acceptance of what’s within my control and concern. More allowing others to create and follow their own paths.

More talking, less scrolling. More cards and letters, fewer texts.

More rest, less busyness.

More – finding more in subtle strength which leads to less need to shout or fight or prove anything. More authentic presence and flow – less pretending and hiding.

More having my breath taken away at the soaring of a bald eagle overhead (that’s twice this week!) More looking around so as not to miss these moments!

And, from after I got out into the world a little bit…
More integrity, less trying to scam people on Facebook Marketplace so that you can steal their phone number for some sort of up-to-no-goodness. (If that seems very specific, unfortunately, it is).

More pulling over and letting people pass when you can’t get up to speed and more letting people in when there’s a lane closure…

More general kindness, decency, respect, and humanity. Less judgment and meanness. Please.

More forgiveness and acceptance when someone’s running late.

More regular cleaning and clearing out so it’s not such a big job when I finally get around to it!

More energy and the things that support that! More pausing, more support, and more ease.

I’m filled up just from taking the time to reflect and from making this list and feeling it permeate my soul. Sometimes more is more, for sure. I’m breathing that in in this space of deep quiet and expansive possibility.

Your Invitation:
Go ahead, play with it! See what comes up for you when you think about “more is more.” What do you want to cultivate more of? And when you have more of___________, what do you have less of? Or more of? Please share with us in the comments what comes up for you! I can’t wait to hear!!

And, Your Gift:
This week, one of my very favorite people in the world and yoga teacher/yoga therapist extraordinaire, Cathy Dasson, from Moving with Presence, is offering us a beautiful Yoga Nidra Relaxation meditation. We can certainly all benefit from more relaxation!! Please give yourself this time. Please give yourself this gift. Your nervous system will thank you (and so will your future self!).

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Less is More

11/9/2021

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Photo Credit Renee Veniskey

Less is more... I know it's true and I feel the relief when I can actually let this idea guide me. And yet, I'm finding that after decades of efforting (and probably over-efforting many, many times), even when I don't think I'm doing or thinking or trying too much, I am. It really takes a lot for me to let down, to do less, to try less hard…

How have I been reminded? My body is showing me. It's coming through in chronic holding patterns in certain muscles that clench and grip all the time, even when they don't need to. It's coming through in tiredness from days that are booked too fully or that I simply fill with too many things and too many hours. It's coming through in carrying an excessive number of books and notebooks with me for short trips, thinking I'll get to way more than I do (and more than I even want to). It's reflected in mental fatigue when I think I can do too many things, accomplish too many tasks, finish too many projects in too little time! It lives in unrealistic expectations imposed upon myself that I would NEVER hold for another human being.

How might this idea that “less is more” be supportive and nourishing if it could truly be embodied and brought to life?

Well, for one, it would open up more space and time on the calendar, allowing for more breathing room, less stress, and more time to pause and relax.
It would come through in a body that feels less tight, less over-worked, less over-stressed, more rested, more open, more expansive.
It would be reflected in less clutter and more open space, fewer clothes overflowing closets and drawers, fewer books taking up every inch of shelf space and beyond (which would also lead to more breathing room and spaciousness).
Overall there would be a sense of trying less hard - less tension and effort in yoga and Tai Chi, and even in meditation. There would be a remembering there's no need or way to be perfect (especially with something that's new!).
It would come through in a more relaxed way of being in the world… letting go of any need to impress anyone or prove anything. Letting go of being the doer-of-all-things and the taker-carer-of-all-people.
There would be a sense of sweet simplicity, taking things one moment at a time - not multi-tasking, double-booking, or over-committing. This is a great time to year to be conscious about that!
There would be fewer programs paid for and never completed or feeling woefully behind in - pausing and discerning before following “bright shiny objects” everywhere would keep you cued in to what is really doable and what would truly be beneficial at this time in your life, given your current reality.
You'd find yourself not packing things too full - programs, PowerPoints, retreats, vacations, days… life!
Life would move at a sustainable pace and in a sustainable way. You could lower the bar on yourself - lessen unreasonable expectations.
You'd experience more lightness, ease, and joy, I believe! As there is less stress, angst, anxiety and worry, there's room for more openness, acceptance, wonder, and support.

What does it require?

Mindful awareness
Discernment
A willingness to resist temptation, the ability to say “no” and to be realistic
Pause (that pause… it's always so, so valuable)
Honesty, particularly with yourself
Gentleness and self-compassion

Of course, I offer all of this hypothetically speaking! I have only a vague idea what it really means to live from a “less is more” place, but I can certainly imagine the possibilities! I am willing to try it out more often!

Your invitation…
Take a few minutes to consider if “less is more” is something you'd like to experiment with in your life. Would it benefit you in any way? How and where might you begin to play with this idea, lightly, gently, and kindly? (no harsh taskmaster in a “less is more” world!).

Is there anything you need to give yourself permission for? A promise you want to make to yourself?

Play with these prompts, if you like:
I'd like less___________and more ___________
I will create less ________ and make room for more ______________
If less is more, what's possible?
Where would I like to begin?

This week's meditation, “Less is More," invites you to apply it to your practice - trying less hard, expecting less of yourself and of your practice.

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Mindful Self-Compassion - A Practice Worth Practicing

10/19/2021

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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5 Simple Steps to Self-Care

10/5/2021

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These days self-care is being over-complicated with tracking devices and apps… it’s being capitalized upon. And that makes it hard to remember that self-care does not have to be hard, time-consuming, costly, or complex. Here are a few steps you can tap into throughout the day – a way to bring mini moments of self-care into your life to support and sustain you.

1.Pause and tune in
Pause is one of the most powerful self-care practices there is – simply interrupting the mindless rush through the day. When we take a mindful pause as a a time to tune in, its power is amplified tremendously! What are we tuning in to? Ourselves.

Slow down, quiet down, make time for yourself. Welcome yourself where you are, as you are, and come with a willingness to be open, curious, compassionate and non-judgmental. Whether you do this in your car in the parking lot before heading into work or home or whether you close your office or bedroom door or you just claim a moment in the midst of people does not matter. You can do this any time, anywhere. It only takes a breath.

2.Ask
From this slowed down, quiet place, connect with your body, your heart, your spirit, your mind and ask them what they need. In this moment in time or in this phase of your life. What is alive for each of these aspects of you? What do they desire? Giving yourself permission to give voice to your needs and desires is critical if you are going to truly honor yourself. Take your time. Ask sincerely and be willing to be surprised. The surprise responses are the ones that let you know you’ve connected to something beyond what your mind already knew at a surface level.

At a time when someone is making a request or demand of you, this quiet time to tune in and check out how that lands in your being is critical. Is this a "yes," a "no," a "maybe," a "not now, but maybe later," or a time to say, "let me think about that and get back to you." Too often we rush to respond before we know what's true for ourselves.

This step can be done as a simple quiet reflection, on a walk, or with your journal handy to jot down what comes through as you ask.

3. Listen/Notice
Sometimes we ask the questions but we forget to take the time to also listen to the responses that are coming to us. Stay in the pause long enough that you are aware of signals and signs. Answers may drop in in the form of words or images, or you may just get a sense of what’s being communicated to you. Feel into your body as you ask and listen – your body offers great guidance. As you consider something do you get a sense of softening, relaxing, opening and expansion or is there a tightening, hardening, or constriction? Get to know your body’s way of directing you.

4. Respond
Perhaps the part we miss most often is actually responding to the information we’ve been given. We take the time to get quiet, sit with ourselves and either have a quiet reflection, meditation, or maybe some journaling time. We get answers about what our body, mind, heart, and spirit are wanting and needing.

And then we go on with our life on auto pilot. We tell ourselves we don’t have time, that we’ll get to it later (or “some day”), or it’s just not that important. We put other people’s needs before our own.

It’s really important as you develop this new way of being in relationship with yourself that you actually act upon the insights you’ve gotten. In order to begin to trust yourself, it’s important that you make yourself a priority and honor what you know you need and want; what's right for you; what you have the bandwidth for.

Either respond in the moment or make a promise to yourself. Maybe even write it down or schedule it in your calendar. You deserve your time and commitment as much as anything or anyone else in your life.

5.Celebrate
Pause again. After you’ve done the thing you said you would do to honor yourself, take the time to acknowledge yourself. You said "no" to a request. You had the hard conversation. You asked for help. You took time to intentionally begin your day... Whatever it is, don’t miss it!

Too often we simply brush it off as no big deal and move on to the next thing on our to-do list. By taking the time to pause and notice and give yourself a little smile, word of appreciation, or pat on the back, you reinforce new habits, build new patterns, and deepen your trust in yourself that you are actually taking a stand for your own peace of mind, for your own well-being. Celebrate doesn’t mean have a party (though you could), but it could mean that you intentionally do something nice for yourself as a reward for taking the time to really take good, loving care of you!

Try weaving these steps into your days and let us know how it goes. Self-care, like meditation, is a practice. We forget, we notice, we come back and begin again. It’s not a once and done thing, but rather a foundational piece to building the life you desire.

When the world rattles you, self-care can be your anchor. It can bring you home to yourself, to your center, to your knowing. It can nourish and fill you up at a time when so many other things are pulling at you and draining you.

“Self-care is being true to and gentle with yourself, one moment at a time.” – Barb Klein

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What Being in Recovery Means to Me

9/16/2021

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

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

September is National Recovery Month!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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