Inspired Possibility Blog

What Does it Really Mean to be Mindful?

8/14/2026

Photo credit: Heaven McArthur

This is a question I'm sitting with, aspiring to, exploring, and living into.

What does mindfulness actually look like, feel like — beyond the concept? To truly embody it, live it, day to day and moment to moment. How will I know if I've done it? What will I see? What will I feel? What's the proof in my day, in my being?

I am a girl of many questions, clearly! Sitting with these questions — being curious, noticing what arises — this is part of mindfulness.

I think mindfulness may not even be the right word, because in order to be mindful, I need to get out of my head! The thoughts, fears, scenarios, and dreams that can take me so very far away — and drop into this moment, into my body, into my breath, which can only, only happen right now, right here. Even more — I need to get into my heart so that it can take the lead in my life.

What mindfulness means to me (in this moment):
• Being at choice and having intention as I move through the world.
• Noticing if my choices align with my intention — in other words, whether my words, actions, and decisions about how I spend my time and energy align with the way I say I want to feel, or the things I say I care about.
• Questioning, wondering, being honest about why I am doing what I'm doing or wanting what I want.

Mindfulness asks me to pause and wonder: Am I eating because I'm truly hungry, or am I bored, stressed, anxious? Am I picking up my phone and scrolling for a false sense of connection because I am lonely? Am I texting when I could call, or write an old-fashioned card or letter? What am I distracting myself from — and is that ok, or is there something I'd feel better having faced? Am I numbing out? If so, why? Or is this truly a mindful break I need?

And perhaps the most tender question: Am I rewarding myself? What have I done with the rest of my day that leaves me feeling I need or deserve a reward? Have I been unnecessarily harsh or pushy with myself, or have I depleted myself beyond my capacity?

Mindfulness also calls me to notice my capacity, and to know what really matters to me — and therefore deserves my time and attention — so that I can choose how I spend my time, what I give my energy to, and what I set aside.

Mindfulness helps me to break habits and break free from "shoulds" that arise from long-held conditioning, so that I can find my way — the way that is true for this soul, in this body, at this time. What works for me? Because it is not selfish, but rather mindful and intentional, to fill myself well so that I can show up from a filled place — nourished, present, grounded, aware, and resourced. From that place I can better speak up for causes that matter. I can be a better friend, partner, parent, or community member.

Mindfulness interrupts the spin, the chaos — and my goodness, there is a lot of spin right now that can easily pull me in and take me down. When it does, I become one more reactive cog in the wheel of insanity. I don't feel good about myself or my day when that's happened. I would much rather engage mindfully when I'm feeling grounded and clear.

Mindfulness also allows me to step back and recognize that each of us has our own way — our own set of experiences, beliefs, views, fears, hopes, and dreams — and to respect that we are connected, but not the same. My words and actions don't occur in a vacuum; they ripple out and affect others, and they affect me.

How they land on another person depends on their view, beliefs, trauma, experiences, and current state of mind and health. I can't predict or control any of that. But I can be intentional and choiceful on my side of things, and strive to be in line with my values. To be imperfect — because perfect doesn't exist — but to clean up, take responsibility, and apologize when I have been careless or caused harm (which I will, because I'm human).

Mindfulness means stepping back to see the bigger picture — to take in the whole of what's here. To look at a happy vacation or family photo and recognize that none of them had anything to do with how big my belly was. No one cared — even me, except when I saw a picture or a mirror. So maybe I can lighten up on myself and be kind to the body I have in this moment.

Building a new habit takes awareness, choice, and repetition. Also adaptation and tweaks toward something that feels meaningful enough to be repeated.

What mindfulness could look like:
• Meditating fully — giving myself over to practice with my sangha without taking notes or bouncing in and out. Closing my eyes more than usual to soften my face and mind — even though it's an open-eyed practice. Choosing myself over worrying about "doing it wrong."
• Staying for community — remaining off-camera, contributing through chat and hearts, and trusting that my presence and listening were a contribution in some way.
• Eating breakfast without my phone — a bowl of oatmeal with chia seeds, peanut butter, banana, and Penzey's cinnamon. Sitting in a chair by the window, noticing the scents, textures, flavors, sunshine, and trees. Just me and my oatmeal. Noticing how seldom this is how I do it!
• Leaving my phone at home on our walk — taking in beauty only with my eyes and ears. Does it still exist if I don't capture it to share? (Today's beauty is a practice I love, but not one I have to do every time!)
• Writing this piece by hand — without knowing if it will go anywhere, how long it is, or even if it makes sense. Simply because I love to write. Reminding myself that creativity does not equal productivity — or that it may sometimes, but doesn't have to all the time.
• Eating when hungry, choosing what would actually fuel me — not just a quick reward on my tongue.
• Setting my phone down for stretches of time — and when I did pick it up, deciding what actually needed my attention or action. Or choosing to give myself a break to play some of my favorite phone games which actually do bring me a little joy! (I am loving Garden Joy and Venue!)
• Noticing when Facebook was draining me and getting out — saving myself before it was too late!

An invitation
This is what's brewing for me as I contemplate what it really means to be mindful, and how I can continue to practice and cultivate this way of being — in a time when it's more needed than ever. I notice that a lot of this has to do with my relationship with technology — my phone, my computer in particular — and what I am allowing into my time and space.

What does it mean to you to be mindful? How do you build your practice of living this way? Please share — so we can all learn and grow together. I can't think of a better quality to cultivate as we intend to be part of creating a better world.

✨❤️Retreat with us: If you'd love some time and space to be with yourself in a heart-opening circle of women in a magnificent place, join us at Light on the Hill, in the gorgeous Finger Lakes of NY, for Come Home to Yourself, September 24-27th!

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Lessons from a Twisted Ankle

10/8/2025

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I’ve learned a lot about pain over the course of my life in various ways and to various degrees. I continue to deepen my understanding and relationship with it. Here are some of the things that have risen up in the past couple of weeks. Spoiler alert… it’s about an ankle, and maybe something more...

September 20th… it’s a beautiful sunny Saturday, and I’m enjoying a nice leisurely stroll with a group of lovely, loving humans on the hillside above Canandaigua Lake during a retreat I am participating in. The weekend is all about love, respect for earth and all her beings, and connecting to the fiercer, gentler feminine energies within us. There’s been a lot of talk about receiving, and our last meditation showed me clearly that I’m not great at it.

As I walk along, chatting with a new friend, taking in the beauty of western NY in early Fall, I fail to see the small hole in the path and in an instant, I’m on my butt, foot and ankle stinging sharply. I pause to allow the shockwaves to move through. I’m pretty sure it’s not broken, and one woman offers some Reiki. As I catch my breath, I’m not quite sure what I need, and I let the small group that’s gathered know that. They respectfully wait until I know I need a couple of hands up and someone to lean on as I gimp back to the retreat center. Since that initial shock, this is what I’ve learned.

1. Surrender. When you find yourself on your butt because you didn’t see the hole in the path, there’s not much else to do. Go down. Hang tight till the sharp stinging settles down. Admit you don’t know what you need. Breathe and breathe again. Tune in and listen to the body’s wisdom. Allow people to help you – you are human and therefore subject to injury, after all. Breathe some more. Hate it all you want, but here is where you are.

2. Shit happens, like it or not. Lessons come in undesirable ways. Don’t waste time being embarrassed or ashamed – no one thinks you planned this. ‘Nuff said.

3. Receive and then receive some more. If you’re an, “I’m good. I got it. Let me help you” type, it can be humbling and hard to let others do for you. It is for me. Humble yourself and receive anyway. Allow love and care. Be grateful and gracious in receiving. There are natural caregivers, soul tenders, in the world who are tremendously grateful to be able to serve. I am deeply grateful for people who showed up for me and honestly, I’ve never felt more loved and cared for by people I didn’t even know than I have throughout this experience.

4. Ask for what you need. Even though people want to help, they may not know how to help you in this particular moment. They can’t know what you need or want unless you ask, and damn, is that vulnerable! You may have stories about not being needy, that it’s weak to need anything at all, or that you shouldn’t impose on others. You may have spent most of your life being the one who takes care of everyone else, the one who’s strong, steady, reliable… the one who holds it together and doesn’t inconvenience anyone with your needs. Before you can ask anyone else for what you need, you must first admit to yourself that you have needs and wants (just like every other human in the world!). Then you have to be clear enough to articulate them to yourself, brave enough to ask, trusting that someone will honor your request. And, if they don’t, move on to someone who will. Not everyone is or can be your person.

5. Let go of trying to do anything in your usual way! You are being required to slow down, move mindfully and watch where you’re going. You simply cannot move at your usual pace, the rushing around you take for granted. Everything takes longer and requires forethought. You can’t expect to be able to take a quick shower, dash out the door, and make it to breakfast on time! So, surrender, accept the reality that is this body in this moment, and lovingly allow it to move in the way and at the pace it can, even if you hate every bloody moment of it!

6. Receive some more. If, by the time you do get to breakfast, you’re tired or hurting, let someone bring you a plate of food, a glass of water. Receive. Ask. Receive. Perhaps, like me, you haven’t had to receive like this in a very long time – for me it’s been 32 years since I broke my back and had a 4-month-old baby that I’ve needed quite so much physical care! Two years ago, I definitely needed loads of care as I navigated raw grief. As I receive, I soften. My heart opens a bit and I connect with the care-offerers in a new and grateful way.

7. Allow space and time for healing. Our bodies, our hearts have a tremendous capacity to heal, but they cannot be forced or rushed. Because we dislike discomfort, we may want to push through, find the miracle ointment, the miracle cure that will let us be over and done with this bit rather than move organically through the healing journey. Pain is tiring – allow extra time for rest. It’s necessary. Now is the time to lovingly honor your body and its rhythm. Like grief, physical healing cannot be hurried along. You can support it, and it’s going to take its own sweet time, whether that’s an inconvenient pain in the ass to you or not. So, settle in and be here for it, open and allowing… because, really, the alternative will only frustrate and aggravate things, and possibly make things worse.

8. Find new ways to move. When you can’t do what you’ve always done, what is possible? What options are available to you? I’ve found I can hole up alone and feel sorry for myself or find new ways to engage. No, I can’t dance wildly like I would LOVE to! But I can sit in a chair and dance with my arms, shoulders, head, and legs – supported, held, safe from the risk of further injury. I can lie on the floor and put my legs up a wall (bonus elevation!) and let the dancing and stomping of others move through my body. I can seep in the vibration of music, lyrics, and movement, and know it’s healing for body and spirit. I don’t have to create it all. I can allow others to energize me, delight in the joy of their joy, allow my envy at their athleticism, send love and gratitude from my heart – even when things aren’t going my way.

9. Cry and find comfort. Let the pain and frustration out. If you’re sad, be sad. If you’re mad, be mad. Don’t hold it all inside. (with a nod to The Pretenders and a lovely version of “I’ll Stand by You” from Brandi just for you here). Tears and yells are part of healing too – our body’s natural ways to release, release, release. Let your heart break open, lay down a little of the protective shield. This is another way of healthily, lovingly honoring what’s here at this moment in your life.

Take comfort in whatever form it comes. For me comfort came in the form of Bugles and cocktail wienies in crescent rolls – things I never eat any more but tasted ridiculously delicious and somehow comforting. What was desired then probably won’t appeal to me again for a good long while, if ever!

10. Take nothing for granted. This idea can be anxiety-producing, but I actually find there is a gift in taking nothing for granted which comes in the form of presence and appreciation. One minute you’re perfectly healthy, walking along enjoying a beautiful sunny day, and in the next you’re laid out on the ground and it’ll be weeks before you can enjoy a pain-free leisurely stroll. You went out on your own two feet and personal power and you had to come in more slowly, leaning on a friend. It’s too easy to miss the appreciation for the strength and agility of our body and all that it does, to forget that we can’t always independently take care of ourselves.

Taking nothing for granted doesn’t mean living in fear or anxiety, but it does invite a savoring of a sweet walk with a loved one, not taking people for granted, and taking a moment to appreciate our bodies for all they do and all they are capable of. We don’t know how many more moments we have or what they will look like, so let’s not miss them along the way!

I hate that I have a twisted ankle and that two weeks later it’s still impacting my ability to move and enjoy life the way I’d like to. Hate that on retreat I couldn’t participate as I normally would. Hate that people I barely knew were asking, “Are you the one with the hurt foot?” Not exactly how I want to be remembered – please, see the sparkle of my fairy hair and smile instead! Remember that delight. Hear my heart and hear my story – remember me for those bits of who I am.

These are not lessons I’ve wanted to learn, and there are lessons here for me. So, for now, for this moment in my life, I honor my limits, I rest more, move more gingerly, slowly with a hitch in my giddy-up. I don’t like it, but it’s ok. I don’t like it, and that’s ok. I respect, “I can’t do this, but I can do that” as I lean into what is possible and let go of the rest. I am in awe of my remarkable capacity to heal, to compensate, to adapt, to rebound, and I’m here for it, knowing that in any moment everything could change.

Take from this what you like into your own life. I hope there's something of value that resonates with you. For me, I know I could easily substitute grief, exhaustion, overwhelm, or illness for a twisted ankle.

What have you learned from less-than-ideal moments in your life? I don’t believe “everything happens for a reason,” but I do find there’s something to be gleaned from most experiences.

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Choices

5/22/2025

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Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

When things feel out of control, chaotic, and relentless in their bombardment on our hearts and minds… when we feel overwhelmed, scared, or anxious, it’s easy to feel powerless. When we feel powerless, we may feel like we have no choice other than to do what we’re expected to do, what we’ve always done. We forget that we always have choices. We may not like the consequences of some decisions, but it doesn’t mean the choice isn’t available or worth considering or at least daydreaming about.

A month or so ago I had the great fortune to join Deb Denome of Finger Lakes Forest Immersion for a heart- and mind-opening one-day retreat: “Deepening our Dialogue with Nature.” What a gift to immerse in nature – to feel her support and to hear her wisdom. One of the invitations Deb offered us was to go into the field or woods and daydream, while inviting a non-human being such as a tree, bird, flower, or rock to daydream with us. In that daydream, notice images that arise and also listen for any messages or reminders from these wise beings.

I found myself sitting along a mowed path near a bird house close to the Quaking Aspen where a bluebird had visited for lingering moments on my previous experience. As I sat and closed my eyes, I received several messages including: “LISTEN.” Mostly the birds stayed hidden in the hedge but their calls and songs were loud. I also got “Soar to new heights,” which I’ll admit felt cliché, but since it dropped in, I received it for consideration. Turkey vulture offered, "It can be effortless. Even with torn and tattered wings." As our group shared the various messages received from birds, honeysuckle, and grape vine, one that landed in my heart was, “I am free to imagine.”

Since then, I’ve gotten curious about how well and how often I actually let myself imagine or dream into possibility. The extent to which I don’t is somewhat startling to me – it challenges my story of who I am and what I stand for.

It’s been surprising to me to see how limited I am in my own imagining of choices and possibilities! I like to think I’m this great expansive thinker, open to possibility, curious, willing to explore… but when my husband threw a major life-changing possibility my way, I found myself back on my heels – unsure where to even begin thinking about it. But also, curious. This idea was outside of the assumptions I make about our life – where we’ll be, who will be in our life, what everyday living would entail. I have been reflecting on this for a while. Do I really believe what I preach? How willing am I to take what feel like big risks or make huge changes? How much security and comfort do I find in the status quo, even when the status quo doesn’t feel particularly safe or comfortable? To what extent do I really follow my heart, listen to my soul? What do I do when there are competing desires which can complicate the choices I face?

I’m taking this time to challenge the assumptions, beliefs, stories that are so deeply rooted in the core of my being. I go back to “I am free to imagine,” as an invitation to silence the thinking mind that wants certainty and familiarity and lean into my heart and soul to open up my imagining, daydreaming mind. What could be possible if I didn’t immediately derail myself with, “Oh, we could never do that!”? What might we choose if I didn’t worry about what other people would think?

When facing big decisions, we need time and space for reflection, curiosity, wonder, and inquiry. Sometimes we have to be willing to let ourselves ask unimagined questions sometimes with an openness for insights and ideas to come forward. In that space we might discover something we hadn’t even considered. When facing horrors in the world that seem fixed or certain, can we allow ourselves to imagine a different possibility, to help dream a different world into being?

Often I go about life in a habitual way, as I suspect most of us do – it’s helpful. It’s familiar. It may or may not be a rut. Some people love routine. I am not one of those people, in general, though some structure can help contain me within my days. On that habitual hamster wheel, it’s easy to find ourselves at bedtime unaware of the many, many choices we made throughout the day – even if those choices were to do what we always do. Every single day we make a million choices – large and small that create our present and lead to our future.

What can get in the way of making a change is thinking that we need to “get it right,” as if the “right choice” will give us control in an out-of-whack reality or guarantee us the outcome we desire. Choices don’t give us control, and they do not guarantee an outcome. But, interrupting the auto-pilot program that so often unconsciously drives us, we can bring in more intentionality and awareness. When we see that we have choice and are aware that we are making decisions, we may feel a sense of agency in our lives that we weren’t aware was there. If we can let go of the idea that there is a “right choice” for an unknowable future and accept that everything we do is just a guess or an experiment, we might be more willing to play, try, give something a chance and see how it goes. Choices come moment by moment, and they add up.

For over a decade I have made the choice to practice gratitude – noticing and acknowledging things throughout the day that I am appreciative of. Gratitude, without a doubt, has changed the way I look at, experience, and engage with life. The circumstances of life are out of my control – devastating things have happened and continue to happen, personally and societally.

What is in our control is how we respond to the circumstances, the stories we tell about what’s going on, the beliefs we hold and the beliefs we question. We choose what we focus on, what we watch, who we listen to, how we choose to spend our free time and whom we share it with. It’s also in our control how much attention and energy we give to certain people, certain happenings, and what dialogue and activity we choose to engage in. We get to choose how and where we spend our money, what we invest our time and energy in, who and what we will support or participate in. We can choose to align with our values and stay true to who we are inside when we are able to pause and notice the many choices we have in an out-of-control world. Our choices impact our mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being.   So many choices affect how we show up to life!

Another thing that can get in the way of trying something new is feeling that a choice is forever – once we make it, we’re locked in. But as you examine your own life, is that really true? Are you still with the same partner you had in sixth grade? Still working the same job you had in high school? Do you still live in the home you grew up in? Does your current work utilize your college degree or business training? Maybe, and maybe not. Likely there have been some significant changes you’ve made over the years. Choices you’ve made that have altered the trajectory – maybe you even veered away from the path you never imagined leaving.

An invitation for your reflection: Where do you feel you are choice-less? Where do you cage yourself in with perceived limitations? Is it possible there is another view? Anything worth at least playing with in your mind or bouncing around with someone you trust? How do you bind your own hands or heart and prevent yourself from making a different choice even when something isn’t working or something else is calling? Do you let yourself hear and feel the call? Where can you set yourself free to wonder, to get curious, to consider something you’ve never considered before?

In my poem, “A Prayer for New Beginnings, “ I ask, “Why not? Why wait? What if?” - beautiful poetic contemplations. How often do I actually let myself consider these as if there were still-to-be-discovered choices lurking, lingering, waiting to be seen and heard? Not often enough. This moment. It’s an opportunity to choose.

What do you think? What helps you open to possibility? What gets in the way? Please share!

Further reading:
It’s not surprising that as the founder of Inspired Possibility and one who calls herself a “Possibilitator” I often find myself thinking about and writing about choices! Here are 3 pages of posts distinctly about the idea of choice – I invite you to see if any of these might be of interest to you (Barb’s blogs about choice).

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Slow it All Down... Even when Times are Urgent

3/14/2025

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“The times are urgent. Let us slow down.” – Báyò Akómoláfé

“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and freedom.” —Viktor Frankl

Image by kewl from Pixabay

In these urgent times, what if the most essential thing we can do is slow it all down? Claim the space that Frankl speaks of – the space where power to choose lies. Taking The Pause is the basis for everything else – for tending well to yourself, building relationships, acting mindfully, and creating the life and world you want to live in. Pausing, slowing down, is incredibly powerful, but not easy. Slowing things down requires you to break the pattern of reactivity which may have led to trouble in the past. Pausing helps you establish new patterns and attunes you to your wisdom, your values, while giving access to deeper clarity and insight. Without slowing down, it’s easy to get caught up in our stories, feelings, and fears. So easy! I do it on a regular basis.

Slowing down grounds us in this moment. We can face what’s here and come to grips with this moment’s reality: “Here we are…” - a moment of reckoning that might be missed if you’re hellbent on getting to the next thing or swept up in an emotional tidal wave. Too often, noticing here we are is followed in a nano-second by, “so what do we do now?” The mind desperately wants to seize control of the situation, to fix things, to solve a problem. Sometimes that’s warranted and appropriate and other times we need time – to feel, to settle, to open our heart and mind. The Pause gives you space for all of that and allows insights and ideas to emerge.

“Do you have the patience to wait
Till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
Till the right action arises by itself?”
― Lao tzu

When the world’s on fire or you have a child who’s struggling, the suggestion to wait, to remain unmoving can feel laughable, impossible, irresponsible. Your whole being screams “There is no time to wait! This is a crisis!”

And yet, there is very little that doesn’t benefit from slowing down and taking a pause, be it for three breaths, three hours, or thirty days. Unless there is fire raging or blood gushing in front of you now (which I doubt there is or you wouldn’t be reading these words), you likely can grant yourself and the situation a little time and space.

You can move more effectively after taking time to quiet down, re-set, and feel what is here. Stepping out of the fray allows you to question your thinking while you listen and receive wisdom, insight, guidance, and even a renewed energy to face what’s next. The right action may arise when you’re not so constricted in fear, trying to force a decision.

Without taking the pause, we find ourselves in reactive, fearful, conditioned, and habitual ways of behaving, and we may act prematurely without thinking things through. If, instead, we allow the mind to settle, we will see more clearly, feel what’s ours to do when the time is right, and begin to get curious about what’s needed or wanted. The fear, anger, and sadness don't necessarily go away, but the pause has given you time to check in with yourself and to find the wisdom in these feelings. To get grounded. To hear what’s true for you, rather than jump to comply or please others. It’s one way to avoid over-extending yourself.

Pausing is the essence of care, compassion, respect, and curiosity. The pause broadens our lens to see the bigger picture – all that’s here, including whatever feels problematic, and also beauty and goodness. Pause expands our thinking and opens up space for different ideas to emerge. Pausing isn’t the same as strategizing or plotting how to control or overpower a situation, but rather a break to open up to possibilities that may currently be hidden from view.

So, what does it look like to slow down or pause?

In the midst of traffic or in an argument, rather than overheating or exploding, the pause could be as simple as mindfully taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down rather than laying on the horn or yelling back
Upon hearing disturbing news for the umpteenth time in an hour, you might go for a walk and then come back to read the insights of someone you trust to help you decide what action, if any, you would like to take. You begin to discern what’s yours to do, what you have the capacity for, as you accept the reality that none of us can save the whole world by ourselves.
Slowing down may mean we talk something through with a trusted friend or counselor before making a move.
In a time of overwhelm, exhaustion, or conflict, you might give yourself a loving timeout, not as a punishment, but as a gift to all. Taking yourself to your room or out for a walk or drive as a chance to reset, re-ground, calm racing thoughts or heart so you don’t say or do something you’ll regret later
In response to a relationship that’s wearing you down, you might choose to take a longer break and not engage for a number of days or weeks
A healthy pause could be mindfully deciding to take social media off your phone so that it’s not so easy to find yourself doom-scrolling in every empty moment

When I slow down I feel more open, more expansive, more inclusive. My mind stops its incessant racing and fretting. I breathe more steadily. I find my ground, feeling the solidity of the earth holding me. I see and hear things in my environment – I don’t rush over the bridge, missing the sea turtle lounging in the murky water. I notice angels in the clouds. I revel at the beauty, mystery, and magnificence of the everyday miracles of sunrise and sunset. I breathe again. And again. And again. Until I can feel the choices that are mine to make and discern which one is right for this moment. I find the strength and inner guidance to choose rather than giving in to the shouting of others about what I have to do. I feel my pain, anger, fear. I cry the tears that have been held in too long. And gradually, because everything is always shifting, my mood and my energy shift too and I am able to take my next step. From here, I can show up to life more like the person I want to be. I catch myself the next time I've sped up and gotten caught in a reactivity loop, regroup, and begin again.

When I don’t slow down people could get hurt – I whack my head on a doorknob because I was moving too quickly and not paying attention, or I bite someone’s head off because I'm overwhelmed. I react rather than respond, and I’m much less likely to be the person I want to be. I miss out on all that’s here, tightly focused on only what’s wrong or scary, even when I’m with people I love in a safe, comfortable environment. My mind can carry me away and hold me hostage with it’s beliefs, thoughts, and opinions about what’s going on and what should be. I amp myself up in a frenzied, reactive state. I lose sleep. I eat crap, seeking comfort from chips and ice cream. It’s not good for me or anyone or anything when I’m swept up in chaotic energy.

This message to slow down is one that Love gives me regularly (when I take the time to ask and record her response). Here’s one of her messages from just the other day when I found myself rapidly spiraling: “Slow it down. Bring it in. What is within your reach? What can you do that will help settle you? Stay off social media today – all day. Organize your piles. Get outdoors and breathe fresh air. Watch the ocean. Listen to the birds. Take the time you have to savor the time you have. Stop trying to put out fires everywhere. Breathe. A lot. Pause and breathe. You need the oxygen. Trust me – your brain will thank you. Laugh. Love fiercely. Nothing can stop your ability to laugh and love. Calm it down. Bring it in, and love on yourself. Fiercely love.” (you can see more about my practice of interacting with Love and inviting in this wisdom in Love’s Wishes)

Your thoughts?
How does this land with you? Helpful? Annoying? Ridiculous?
What works for you? How do you slow things down?
How and when would the mighty pause benefit you?
How can this idea help you be who you want to be and how you want to engage with life?

Maybe we can’t save the world, but we can support our presence to be of benefit to it.
Who do you want to be and how do you want to show up? Good guiding questions in a life that feels out of control.

And a song to speak to your heart... We don't Know We're Living

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Anger & Fear

2/15/2025

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“Anger is sadness’s bodyguard,” Paul Denniston said recently in a Grief Yoga® class. I heard it. It stayed with me. And, in my mind, it became, “anger is fear’s bodyguard.” As someone who has always been afraid of anger and what might blow up if it was unleashed, I’m wondering if maybe I’m even more afraid of the tender bits of fear and sadness.

I can see now I was angry with Nate so often because I was too afraid to feel my fear. What would I have had to feel if I had softened and removed the protective armor of anger? Would I become weak, at risk? As a toddler, I had big temper tantrums. I’ve had a few as an adult too – when they come it’s always out of a place of feeling trapped, wanting to jump out of my skin. When I was a kid, none of the “negative” emotions were allowed. I could only hold them for so long before things blew up. At other times I’ve experienced depression - maybe an implosion from emotions stuffed away for too long?

Fear and sadness are vulnerable, exposing. It’s risky to express them or even give them voice in my own mind. Sometimes I withhold my sadness and fear for fear of infecting others, which leaves me carrying the weight alone. That sucks! And so, I’m likely to try to talk myself out of those feelings. Which I know isn’t helpful or healthy.

One of the things I love about my meditation practice is its inclusivity. As we sit with our breath, we don’t push anything away. Thoughts come and go, sometimes taking us with them until we wake up and bring ourselves back to the breath. Emotions move through, but nothing needs to be denied, ignored, or pushed away. In welcoming them all, they have room to breathe and space to be. They don’t need to escalate to get our attention. As we relax with them a bit, they too relax.

In my grief I’ve become far more comfortable with sadness because I know it’s understandable, rational. No one’s going to tell me I’m crazy for feeling sad. My son died, for heaven’s sake!

But fear? Seems like lots of people want to question my fear or tell me I’m being ridiculous, I’ve been lied to, it’s not going to be as bad as I think… As those messages trickle in, a little voice inside of me joins in. Self-doubt arises, despite the evidence I have that my fear is warranted.

Fear needs a place to express – to not be gaslit into oblivion! Can we gaslight ourselves? Seems we can.

Fear is real and reasonable. Please spare me the “False Evidence Appearing Real” bypass! It’s deeply offensive when people are facing indisputable threats to their well-being.

Fear tells us to pay attention – to check things out. To be discerning. It’s a built-in survival mechanism that alerts us when something is “off.”

Maybe if we turned toward our fear and befriended it, it ‘ll visit at times and take a rest at times, leaving us alone to rest. If we push it away, ignore it, or slam the door in its tender little face, it only grows stronger and nags more. It’s here. It’s part of me and for the rest of my life, it will show up at different times in varying ways.

When I deny my fear, it comes out sideways, in snarky comments, or bigger blasts of rage.

Fear is tender. It needs tender care and gentle respect. I’ve never thought so compassionately about this bit of me I’d rather not have.

Don’t talk yourself out of fear too quickly. Sit with it and ask what it wants you to know. (*Please take care of yourself as you consider making this inquiry. If you find yourself getting more agitated or traumatized, find someone to talk it through with - a counselor or trusted friend who can provide a safe space). If it feels ok and safe enough, go ahead and explore:
If fear runs away with you (as it is very good at!), keep it in healthy dialogue:

Is that really true? If it is, is there an action I can take so I don’t feel helpless?
Do I know without a doubt how this will end? I cannot know, so I can breathe with that truth.
What’s true in this moment, right here? Can I ground myself into this present moment? I can, because I’ve found ways to do this all my life, despite fearful things near and far.

Is it wrong to take this time to sit and get to know your fear? No! It’s medicine that helps calm your being so you can continue to be, first and foremost. Maybe so you could be helpful in some way when the time is right – you’re not helpful when you’re running around in a panic. We need our energy for when the panic meets us at the door so we can face it then. Until the moment when action must be taken, let’s foster the energy reserves. Get to know this part of ourselves so it doesn’t catch us off guard or leave us vulnerable to those who prey upon our fear.

What if we were to not silence, dismiss, or push away our fear? What if, for a bit, we didn’t cover it over with anger? Don’t get me wrong – the anger is also warranted and has information for us, but for now I’m curious about peeling it back to see what’s underneath. My guess is you’ll find your anger rises out of deep caring, and you’re worried or terrified for yourself, for loved ones, or for people you don’t even know. For our planet and all of its inhabitants. For the future we’re leaving our children and grandchildren.

So, I admit I’m scared. I’m too tired to pretend to be strong all the time (and p.s., even strong people get scared). I don’t need to be strong all the time. I can’t be. We often think being fearless means we can’t feel afraid or that somehow, we miraculously have no fear, when in reality, courage is feeling the fear and showing up anyway. I think probably we’re stronger when we allow our humanness to be exposed. Vulnerability can connect us. So, I admit I’m feeling scared these days. The particulars of my fear aren’t the point.

If you’re scared too, can we just sit together, hold one another for a while? We won’t cower away forever, but can we just give ourselves a little respite of honesty and be afraid together? Because we’re not wrong to feel this fear, and maybe it won’t consume us if we can sit with it every now and again. Shall we give it a try? Somehow sensing “me too” leaves me feeling a little less alone and gives me the courage to go on.

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Living Well within the Mess

11/20/2024

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Photo by Gantas Vaičiulėnas: https://www.pexels.com/photo/photo-of-person-standing-on-grass-field-during-golden-hour-3550518/

Never have I put more hours into a single post than this one. Why? Because I want to be thoughtful and respectful and not offer you any simplistic suggestions to an unbelievably complex reality. Because I vacillate between wanting to tell you everything I’ve learned that might be helpful and feeling like I have nothing of value to say. Because my grief is heavy right now.

I could just walk away and stay silent, but somehow, I feel called to write, to offer something in this post-election time. My hopes were strong for a different outcome and I’d enjoyed the relief of riding a wave of possibility for the past few months. The shock hit me hard and I’ve been mostly numb for the past 2 weeks. I’ve felt the familiarity of living within unknown chaos and deep grief over the loss of hope and the loss of the future I had imagined.

This is why I am choosing to write and share what I can. I do know how to live in an ungrounded mess. It may not be the election that’s upset you, and this post is meant to address different painful and challenging situations.

Let me begin by assuring you that I am not going to tell you to “get over it,” “put your big girl panties on,” “pull yourself up by your bootstraps,” “just focus on what’s good,” “just shake it off” or any other nonsense.

Be real with where you are right now. Allow your feelings, thoughts, confusion… just honor where you are without needing to deny it, push past it, or get over it. Don’t pretend to be any different than you are. I honor that with you, witnessing how my own real-life experience changes day by day, and moment by moment, sometimes in unexpected and startling ways. What I write is for you and also for me. I write to remember and to discover what’s true and what’s possible.

Along with honoring whatever is true in this moment, I’m also going to share what I’ve learned is possible, even in terribly devastating times. I share to invite you to consider that it is possible to find a way back to yourself, back to some sense of ground, even in super ungrounded times. It is possible to have moments of feeling a sense of aliveness, a tiny spark that calls you forward.

I’ve lost myself in the past 2 weeks – meaning I’ve let forces outside of me and outside of my control drag me down and steal my energy, inspiration, and motivation. I’ve found myself going through the motions, zombie-like, and I’ve let myself swim in the dark waters of fear and despair. And that’s ok. I don’t like it, but it’s ok, because it’s what is here.

This feeling isn’t new for me. I’ve lost myself many, many times over the years of my life – particularly in dark and heavy times of fear and struggle. The disconnect can sneak in gradually over time or wallop me out of the blue, catching me off-guard and unprepared. Maybe there’s no way to prepare for ground-shaking news.

Maybe you’ve experienced this too – something shakes your world and suddenly you’re gone. Swirling in the chaos and confusion, unable to find ground. If you’re like me, you may alternate between looking outward - grasping for someone to give you the answer or show you the way – and diving inward, hiding away in a cocoon of isolation. Despair may loom if things feel bleak and uncertain.

Humans are conditioned to be alert for danger – it’s in our DNA. We are programmed to survive, and so we constantly scan for what’s wrong, what’s scary, what feels dangerous. The world feels chaotic and confusing right now, and there are many unknowns before us. Our minds hate not knowing.

And, of course, the unpopular truth is the future is always uncertain and unpromised. We cannot know how things will go. Sometimes we’re pleasantly surprised when our worries go unanswered. Other times we’re crushed when the unthinkable happens.

The mind constantly makes up stories of what is true and what is coming based on what it knows from past experience. This is how the mind works. It can only draw on what it knows. It forgets that more is possible. In fear its focus is extremely narrow. The mind carries us on a path paved with stories and beliefs. The path may be helpful or it may add to our despair.

I’m amazed at how different my waking thoughts can be from day to day. On any given day, I may awaken with dread, neutrality, or joy, and it’s not always connected to what lies ahead or what happened before I went to sleep.

Several days ago I was extremely grateful to wake with a momentary glimpse into the connection between what has supported and sustained me for the past couple of decades and the outer chaos many of us are experiencing today. That was the genesis of this blog. Since then, I’ve cycled in and out of inspiration, energy, depletion, and apocalyptic fear.

I do know calm and sanity begin within – they can’t be gifted to me by the outside world. I don’t know how long it will take for me to find the ground that offers any level of calm or sanity, but I must find the ground before I can hope to be much good to anyone else. Before I am ready to fight or advocate for better conditions, before I can hope to have any sort of positive impact or influence, I need space and time to think clearly.

If I’m spinning in a spiral of doom, that Is not the place from which to create or engage.   That’s the time to hit pause, go within, tend to my tender heart and soul, and feel all the feels. That’s the time to build awareness of what’s going on in me. Only when I feel strong enough, do I want to step into action.

Is this helping or hurting?
I have to look honestly at my thoughts and actions to see if I’m contributing to my own misery. If I am, what can I do differently?

I need to remember that I get to choose who and what I let into my world. Everything I take in and every interaction I have affects me, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually – this includes what I look at, what I listen to, what I read, and who I communicate with. It also includes how much information or emotion I let in at any time. An abundance of outer noise is eager to bombard us and keep us confused. Unless I am able to pause and mindfully step back, I will miss the bigger picture of what’s going on. I’ll have no idea how to best companion myself through a tumultuous time.

Extreme Tenderness and Exquisite Care
Another morning, I woke with the words “Extreme Tenderness and Exquisite Care” in my head. I knew deep in my core that this is exactly what I and so many others need right now. It’s not selfish to offer ourselves this time and space for loving care and compassion. It’s actually an act of kindness for us and those around us.

When we interrupt a destructive or frightening spin with a pause, rather than amplify it with our own thoughts and stories, we have a better chance for a more positive interaction.

A Powerful Pause
We can allow the pause to support us in coming back to our values and ideals – who we truly are at the core, who we want to be with others, and how we want to show up in the world. The pause takes us out of reactivity, away from feeling like a pinball being buffeted around recklessly by outside paddles, and offers us a chance to tap the stillness and wisdom within. Pausing also allows us to stop adding fuel to a fire that’s already raging out of control. My frenzy has never contributed anything meaningful, helpful, or productive to a situation, and it has often made things worse. In a frenzy, we are not thinking clearly; frenzied thinking leads to frenzied action.

Offering ourselves self-compassion, holding ourselves lovingly, acknowledging, “This sucks. I’m scared. I’m hurting right now. This is a moment of suffering,” rather than soldiering on, pretending all is well, gives us a chance to feel heard and understood, if only by ourselves. Listening to what we need and honoring that, rather than beating ourselves up with artificial “should’s” offers a reprieve from the pushing, driving, and striving that only wears us down.

These small, not-so-simple acts allow us to take a stand for our own wellbeing and to choose who and what deserves our energy. This isn’t about putting your head in the sand or being in denial, though if that’s what you need in the initial shock of something horrible, by all means, let that be ok. It is part of grief, and it’s part of self-survival. Traumatic events may require a healthy solitude when it all feels like too much.

How to keep going?
Even in the darkest of times, there is a way to take back your life, to take back your power, to find a way to keep going. I’ve found this while living through years of my son’s chaotic substance use. I’ve found this after his death. I’ve found this in moments in our world that shake all that we’ve known or believed. I am grateful to remember what I forgot I knew in the malaise that has consumed me recently.

When we feel powerless, we feel scared. Maybe we feel hopeless. One way to regain some power is to tune in to where you have choices. Where can you find some agency? What can you do differently that will give you energy rather than deplete you?

Find yourself in this moment – right here, right now as you sit here and read these words. Feel the earth holding you – feel her strength and resilience. Are you safe? Are you comfortable? Warm? Fed? Look around and take in your room. Listen to the sounds around you and beyond in the outside world. Smell the scents that fill this space. Feel the clothes on your body, the temperature of the air on your skin. Is there anything you taste in this moment? If it’s helpful, say to yourself silently or aloud, “In this moment, I am here. I am safe.” Name what you notice through your senses to ground you here. Feel your body breathing without needing to change a thing. Connect with your own aliveness. Here you are.

Don’t look away from what’s unsettling, but don’t let it be everything. Ooooh, this is a tough one, but the truth is there is no one thing that defines you or your world, no matter how heavy, ominous, or bleak that thing feels. As you let yourself be with everything that’s here in this time, you may find that beauty and wonder are always here too, right alongside the scary and oppressive.

Can you allow the hard to be there and still notice things that bring joy or comfort, even if they come in the tiniest moments? The person who looks at you and smiles. A dandelion popping up in the sidewalk even in the dark cold fall. A warm hug without words that gives you a moment to surrender into the love of another. A gorgeous sunrise or sunset that reminds you of nature’s steadiness and reliability. The deer on the side of the road that doesn’t crash into your car or the song of the wren breaking through the grey. Let it all be here. Open your heart and your arms to include even these beautiful, wondrous things especially when you see no way out of the current darkness.

Bringing to mind something or someone you appreciate – something that gives you comfort or joy not only offers a temporary reprieve from doom scrolling, but it reminds you that you can choose where you focus your attention and energy. Feeling gratitude counters the tendency to look for all that’s wrong, and it helps reprogram our brain by remembering all that is part of this present moment.

Our hearts can hold it all even when our minds can’t. When I was invited into a reflection of gratitude just a few days ago, I didn’t get much further than my husband who I am so glad to share life with and my soft fleece Snoopy blanket that offers me warmth and coziness and makes me smile. Of course, there is much more I am grateful for if I allow myself time to sit and reflect, to feel those things and how they affect me. And it’s ok when it’s a struggle to connect with them.

What CAN you do even when times are hard and confusing?
When there is much that you can’t do or much that’s out of your control, focus on what you can do. You will notice the common themes of “in this moment” and “pause” as a reminder of how valuable it is to slow down and come into present moment awareness. There are also some suggestions that may feel contradictory to others – that’s unavoidable as each of us checks in with what’s true for us and finds the balance that feels right and doable in this moment. Here goes:

❤️ Let yourself feel what you feel. Angry? Sad? Scared? Confused? Disappointed? Or Joyful? Feelings give you great information and need to be felt and allowed to move through. Don’t deny them, even if others feel differently than you or if you think you should be over it by now. Cry. Scream. Laugh. Feelings deserve your attention.

❤️Build inner reserves and resources, even in small moments and doses. What can you do to nurture and nourish yourself, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually? When you’re well-resourced, you will more likely have the strength and clear-headedness to face hard times.
Get plenty of rest. Let yourself chill out as needed. Get some movement and eat pretty well when you can. Join supportive groups or communities to have real and honest discussions while deepening your own understanding of this thing called life.

❤️Know what you need to refuel and do that. You don’t want to find your tank on empty in the middle of a storm. Plan ahead so that you don’t get caught off guard by depletion. Refueling is different for each of us. Some people need to be with others, while others need silence, stillness, alone time, or time outdoors. Some need to hug a tree, cuddle with a sweet pet, or curl up with a good book. What is it for you?

❤️Determine what is yours to do at this moment, if anything. If there is something that you need to do or you feel called to do, do that. From simple daily tasks to big community action, there are always things you could be doing. Focus on what’s yours. Let other things go – you can’t do it all, nor do you have to. You can trust that others will be called to fill different needs. And if what is yours to do is to take good care of you and your family, do that.

❤️Assess your true capacity is in this moment. You may feel pressured to do something. Wanting to jump into action is a pretty natural inclination when things feel like they’re spinning out of control. Do you have energy to give or is this a time to pull in and nurture and nourish yourself? There will be challenges, requests, and demands coming your way. Allow yourself to pause and assess before you respond. Do I have it in me to do this thing in this moment? Is it a yes, no, or not now?

❤️Get in touch with what really matters to you and devote your energy there. The vaster my dismay, the more I pull in and focus on what’s within my sphere. One thing I know that matters to me is family and friends and in-real-life connections. Community and connections are critical to my heart these days. I am also choosing to decrease my time in the algorithm-controlled virtual reality of social media. I am picking up the phone and calling people. Even if I don’t reach them, I get to hear their voice and leave a message to let them know how much they mean to me. I’m making time to connect with my people, while simultaneously being discerning about how much time and energy I have for peopling.

Another thing that matters to me is finding ways to offer compassion, kindness, and care at a time when this feels more needed than ever. Kindness can be as simple as sharing a smile or holding a door. You could send a sweet text or a handwritten card. Make a big meal and share the leftovers with friends.

What communities and causes do you care about and how can you support them? For me, supporting people impacted by mental health is my call, and so I am grateful to be able to support families through the Invitation to Change and to contribute to the work of the CMC: Foundation for Change. I will also be compiling the next round of CompassioNate Care Bags in the coming month. It was last Thanksgiving morning that I got a clear hit that we needed to make 111 bags, and I put out the first big call to my community. The response has been phenomenal and I am so grateful to all who have helped to create and deliver over 500 bags.

You may not know how important a tiny act might be; never underestimate the impact of a little care, compassion, or kindness. What’s most important to you today, in this moment?

❤️Get out of your head. Allow yourself time to dump the many thoughts that are spinning in your mind. Write them down, share them with a trusted person, or speak them to yourself – getting them out of your head can offer some relief and help create some distance between your thoughts and your life. Another way to get out of your head is to create – paint, draw, dance, write a poem, sculpt some clay, or knit away.

❤️Find ways to offer yourself loving kindness and compassion. What might that look like? You could take time for a formal loving kindness meditation practice. You might simply pause and put your hand on your heart as you take a breath or two. You might give yourself an intentional timeout, stepping away to rest, reflect, journal, or just tune out for a while. Letting yourself scream and cry if that’s what’s needed is a compassionate act. Please love yourself well.

❤️Reach out for help and support. Don’t go through a hard time alone. Find someone you feel safe with to sit with you, hold space for you, walk alongside you. That could be a friend, counselor, community member, or helpline.
I joined a friend for a meal the other day, and we were both struggling. As we hugged and cried, these words rose up from my heart, “We don’t have to be ok. We just have to be together.” This resonates as truth. We don’t have to be ok. We don’t have to pretend to be ok. We just need to show up to this moment and then the next. One breath at a time. One thought at a time. One moment at a time. Together.

We don’t know what the future holds, but I am certain that each of us has an important role to play in the unfolding. How are you doing? How’s your heart? What helps you get through hard days? Please share. We need your wisdom and insight.

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Seeking Peace Even (Especially) in These Times?

10/17/2024

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Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay

If you’re finding yourself feeling anxious or agitated more often than you’d like and you’d love a little more peace in your life, hold on to hope. No matter what’s going on around you, you can cultivate peace and even ripple it out to the world. I’ve learned this over the past many years of my life, during the 14 years my son struggled with substance use and all the chaos that brought into our family, and even in the past year and a half since his passing. In this post I’ll share some tried and true practices that continue to carry me through the hardest of times. I hope you’ll find them supportive.

Even when our political climate is blowing up with division and aggression. Even when weather crises are coming fast and furious. Even when there's chaos in your family. Even through all of that, moments of peace are available. Not every moment, of course. You’re human and human is messy. Life is messy. Things happen. Reactions come, and the best thing we can do is be real with them and honest about them. True peace doesn’t come by denying the truth of what’s here or trying to jump over sadness, anger, frustration, or fear to get to peace. No. None of that…

What can we do to generate some peace within when the world and its people are spinning in a frenzy around us? Here are a dozen things that have worked for me (when I remember!). It’s a practice. Always. Something to remember and come back to when we forget:

1. Pause – stop whatever you’re doing and whatever you’re thinking. Take a breath or ten and step back from the intensity of the moment in order to regain your ground and to consider a fresh perspective. It’s easy to get caught up and pulled into drama and become one more reactive person in the works, even if we really value peace.   So, give yourself a chance to intentionally interrupt the spin.

How to do this? Just taking a moment to feel your feet on the ground and to you’re your breath can help. Or maybe give yourself a timeout in the most positive of ways – this isn’t a punishment, but truly best for everyone involved. Send yourself to your room or to the woods for even 30 minutes. If you’re at work or in a public space, lock yourself in a bathroom stall for a few minutes. Pauses come in all shapes and sizes, and they’re almost never a bad idea.

2. Curiosity – Notice when you’re feeling judgmental about something or someone and catch yourself in that moment. It can be helpful to shift to a state of curiosity. Say to yourself, “Isn’t that interesting?” Or, “that person or that thought doesn’t resonate with me” instead of “I hate them!” Suzanne Giesemann shared these ideas in a workshop I was in recently, and I was able to put them to use immediately as I came across people behaving badly. When I took this approach, I found that I got less worked up and agitated. I could silently send love to a situation and then move on with my day without needing to tell the story over and over or dwell on what an asshole that guy was.

3. Listen – just listen, without jumping in with your own ideas or opinions. This can settle a heated moment quickly and keeps you from making things worse. Take that pause, take a breath, and really listen to what someone else is saying. I tried this with a man I had just met who shared his opinions about a topic I’m passionate about, and though I didn’t agree with his thoughts on it, I could hear him. In my doing so, he commented, “Given your response, I’m guessing you don’t agree?” I simply said, “I don’t know. Here are my thoughts, but I don’t have the answer, and I don’t want to argue.” My not jumping in to talk over him or shove my ideas onto him opened up space for us both to think about the topic a little more and maybe even consider the validity of the other person’s thoughts.
I am also aware that there are many times when I’m quick to speak even though my input hasn’t been requested. Pausing and just listening helps build more peaceful interactions.

Listen to yourself too – listen to your body and heart for what they need in any moment. Learning to pay attention and honor this internal wisdom is step one in creating a self-care plan that you will stick to. The better you care for yourself the more peaceful you will feel.

4. Slow down. Maybe this should have been first because it’s integral to the other three ideas I’ve shared so far. Too often we rush – our meals, our rest, our conversations. We’re a distracted and busy people. When we take a little more time to be with ourselves, with each other, we reduce the frenzy.

5. Notice what you’re taking in – you have to digest everything that you take in. That’s true of food and drink, and also of things you’re listening to, watching, and reading. Is what you’re taking in filling you up or draining you? Does it inspire you and give you hope or send you to a place of despair? You are the sacred gatekeeper for your energy, so get curious about what you’re letting in to your being and how it affects you. Make changes accordingly, even if it’s only a slight reduction – say, checking headlines or scrolling social media 4 times/day instead of 400. There’s an awful lot of input available these days and a lot of it is designed to stir you up, hook you in, or both. Take good care of you.

6. Who are you hanging around with? Are they people who lift you up, inspire you, or make you laugh? People you can be real with? People you can cry with when you’re feeling sad? Or are they people who exhaust you or suck the life out of you? You might not have a choice all the time given your family or work environment. If those places are very draining, please be sure to balance out your interactions with those that are nourishing, uplifting, and fulfilling. Also be sure you’re getting enough “me time.” You know… alone time with yourself… time to reflect, process, or just chill. Such important recharge time!

7. What energy are you spreading, perpetuating, or exacerbating? Your presence makes a difference – to those around you and to yourself. Pay attention to how you feel if you jump in on gossip or if you repeat a story or belief you’ve told many times already. That spin of agony – “It shouldn’t be this way! How could this be happening? He’s crazy! Why is he doing this? I can’t take it!” doesn’t feel great. And the truth is, you’re here. You’re taking it, and you can choose how you want to be and what energy you want to bring to the world. It matters. Notice if something inside you likes to stir up drama or if you’d feel much better being a little more Zen. Are your words and actions aligned with your values? I find a deep inner ick when they’re not! For your own peace, shift your energy.

8. Where can you take down a barrier today? In a world that seems determined to pit us against one another, that can be a hard ask, but look for opportunities to bridge a divide. Extend a kindness to someone you’d normally look away from or down on. Share a smile. This doesn’t have to be hard or big, but small acts can generate big results. It’s one of the things I love about the CompassioNate Care Bag movement – people are turning toward their neighbors in need and reaching a hand out instead of looking away.

If you love someone who struggles with substance use, there are often a lot of barriers keeping us at war with one another. Curiosity and listening at times when you might usually yell or lecture can open doors, mend hurts, and build trust and relationship. It can be really hard to listen in a situation where you think you know what’s right or what has to be done. When you open your heart to your loved one and listen to their ideas and perspectives, and have an actual conversation, new ideas and perspectives might emerge that you would never have come up with on your own. When I was finally able to unplug my ears and open my eyes to have a real two-way conversation with Nate, he trusted me enough to share a little of what it was like to be him. I think the question, spoken or intended, “What’s it like to be you?” can open a lot of doors and hearts and help build connection if we’re genuinely curious and willing to hear some hard things.

9. Notice The F’s – I don’t know about you, but when I’m feeling overwhelmed, terrified, and/or powerless, I don’t necessarily function at my best. I jump into forcing, fighting, fixing, fleeing and frenzy. When we feel out of control or powerless it’s easy to fall into these nasty F’s, often followed by a big loud exasperated “F IT!!” It’s natural to try to force things to happen, to fix problems (or people), to lash out or flee to isolation, or to find yourself scrambling in a frenzy. However, reacting these ways rarely work and often make things worse.

Try these F’s instead – face it, flex, flow, and maybe even fun. Flexing and flowing require a certain level of acceptance and surrender which come from facing the reality of what’s before you. When you can, turn toward the challenge and find a way to be with it and move with it rather than frantically trying to make it change. How might you even have fun with these moments? I now try to spend more time clapping with joy at political signs that give me hope rather than flipping off the ones that make me cringe. Why not?

Just last week I had a chance to work with this – a birthday gift I had ordered for my son was reported as “delivered” on Wednesday. Except it had not been delivered to me. Clearly it had been left somewhere, but it wasn’t in my box, in our parcel lockers or at my home. So, I filed an online claim and waited for a response. The next day I received an email to let me know they were looking into it and another later in the day that it had been found, misdelivered, but was now in my box. Great! Except… it wasn’t there. So, I called the post office and left a message for the postmaster – later got a call that she had left for the day and wouldn’t be back till Tuesday, but someone else was going to talk to the carrier to try to figure out what was going on and where this package. Frustrating… but as I sat down on Saturday morning, I silently offered up the intention that the package find its way to us with ease, and I let it go. I kid you not… within 10 minutes the postmaster was knocking on our door, handing my husband the package. She had come out on her day off to find it and get it to us! Amazing!

Does it always work that way? Of course not, especially when other people are involved. BUT, sometimes it does. I’m certain things went more smoothly and she was moved to help me out because I didn’t yell and scream at her. We need to take the steps we need to take, and then let go and wait, allowing things to get worked out.

10. Be aware of what you’re focusing on - Shifting your focus from what’s wrong, what’s troubling you, or what scares you can truly change your experience of life, even if nothing outside of you changes. One of the quickest ways to do this is to take a moment and reflect on what you’re grateful for, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant that may be. Gratitude has been shown to rewire our brains and help take us out of the eternal loop of thinking about all that’s wrong and to open up to noticing what there is to appreciate.

I also look for beauty every day – mostly outside, as nature is more than willing to accommodate me with her clouds, critters, plants, sunsets, and moon rises. Oh, and last week, the Northern Lights! Holy wow! They were spectacular! So cool to see so many people pulled together by this force of wonder and awe! Even in our homes and work spaces, there’s beauty to be found if you’re willing to look. Let yourself pause and take it in. What does beauty feel like in your body? Where do you notice it? We need beauty to counter the ugliness that permeates too much of today’s airwaves.

11. Meet yourself and this moment with self-compassion, kindness, and gentleness. I noticed myself judging my lack of strength, mobility, and flexibility in yoga class the other day. In another lifetime, yoga was a regular part of my weeks and sustained me well. The reality is in the past year and a half, what used to be a pretty regular activity has gone by the wayside. So, I have a choice. I can feel sad about how much I’ve lost in myself and beat myself up for that, or I can feel sad about it and greet myself with compassion and acceptance that this is just the way it is right now. I chose the latter, but not without a lot of internal chatter along the way. It’s a process and a practice. When we treat ourselves with compassion, we’re much more likely to offer it to others.

12. Turn to Love, with a capital L, and ask for guidance – There are two questions I sometimes remember to ask of Love, this giant force of unconditional love that’s available to us all.
1. What would Love do? Shockingly, the answer is often very different than what this cranky human would do! And, 2. Love, what would you have me know? (taken from Liz Gilbert’s beautiful practice with this inquiry). In either case, you can silently ask and quiet yourself enough to hear what response comes or you could write it out and do a little free-form journaling, allowing your hand to keep writing as you take in and capture whatever comes to you.

I find Love to be a very gentle, compassionate, supportive force to lean into which often reminds me to take it easy on myself, to slow down… all the things we’ve talked about above! Sometimes she shows me ways I can serve or help someone else that will feel good. She’s a very positive influence for me!

Life is a series of moments never promised.
As Joanna Macy said on her podcast, “We are the Great Turning,” (which I highly recommend you check out!), “This moment with you is a gift that was never promised.” This is true of every moment, so cherish your moments with people you love. The more fragile their lives, the more numbered their days, the more worthy of cherishing. We take too much for granted and get too easily swept away by stuff that isn’t worthy of our time or attention. Let’s rein it in and build the lives we want to be living.

Each of these suggestions is a process and a practice. I hope something resonates that might support you in cultivating a little more peace in your days and ways. Let me know! What other things do you do to help create peace when times feel hard, hopeless, or scary? Drop a note in the comments or send me a note. I love, love, love hearing from and learning from you!

Here’s a little music 🎶to support you on this journey – enjoy!

Common (“Cause we’ve got way too much in common…”)
If not for Love (“And what are we here for, if not for love?”)
Love Wins (“I believe we’re made to be here for each other”)

And a couple of meditations to choose from:

If Love points you toward service, here are some ways to support local grassroots efforts that are near and dear to my heart and run by people I love.

✨Brightstar Community’s Bright Night – Nov. 7th. Their mission is to help women survivors of sexual exploitation and trafficking find healing, hope, and independence. By raising awareness and funds, we can provide safe housing, holistic care, and a supportive community to these courageous women as they rebuild their lives. By attending and purchasing tickets to this fundraising event, you are directly contributing to providing safe, long-term housing and trauma-informed care for survivors.

❤️The Emilee Connection’s fundraiser of Music, Compassion & Connection – Nov. 8th – their mission is to support adults who suffer from anorexia and other eating disorders by harnessing the power of peer support, social connection, activities, educational events, inspiring speakers, and provide education and peer support for those who love them and for our community.

💕 Our CompassioNate Care Bag Mission is fueled by donations from so many amazing people. I couldn’t do it alone! If you’d like to be part of this mission, please consider a donation via Venmo to @Barbara-Klein-25 or through a purchase directly from my Wish List. I’ll be compiling the next big set of bags within the next month as we head into colder weather. Thank you!

A little of the Northern Lights beauty I found at Lake Ontario, NY

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Life... What's the Point?

9/12/2024

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Photo by Nathan Cowley: https://www.pexels.com/photo/shallow-focus-photography-of-man-wearing-red-polo-shirt-920036/

What is the point of this human life? We know how it’s going to end – 100% of the time for 100% of us, at least as far as I know. And when we face pain, challenge, or loss personally or feel discouraged about the state of the world, it can be easy to ask, “What are we doing? What’s the point? What’s this all about?”

I hope you didn’t start reading because you thought I’d have the answer, ‘cause, here’s the thing… I can’t have your answer. That question is one for each of us to ask, over and over, and explore and discover answers that ring true in our hearts and souls.

As I muddled around with what to write this week, knowing that something was brewing but also that what I had wasn’t feeling cohesive, Maggie Smith popped into my inbox and let me know that Mary Oliver’s birthday was this week! I found my thread! Mary Oliver, the great contemplative poet who has opened many hearts and minds brings it together for me.

One of her poems springs to mind immediately (though admittedly there are many that have touched me over the years).
“The Summer Day” with its compelling lines:

“Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”

Don’t these words address this inquiry head-on? Yes, everything and everyone dies at last and too soon. So, what is it we plan to do with the time we’ve been given? Why are you here?

I’ve come to the conclusion that my life isn’t about what happens in it, but how I respond to what happens. This isn’t just some simple teaching. It’s what I know to be true based on the life I’ve lived.
I’ve had some devastating losses in my life, and each one has taken its toll. Each one has brought me to my knees. And, somehow each one has also called me to keep on going.

One of my closest friends, Michael, died in my first year in college. He was 19. I sat in the funeral home for 3 days straight with my friends, trying to make sense of how this gentle being, who’d been living his dream in Hawaii, could be lying lifeless in a box.

My dad, who would not drive a foot until everyone’s seatbelt was safely secured, ironically was killed instantly in a random car accident while he was still in his prime, starting what he probably thought were the best years of his life with his new wife and new freedom. I was 21, finishing my senior year of college.

My mom, my best friend, died at age 83 (the age she had told me years before seemed like a good time to go) when I was just 39, raising 2 young boys who missed their Mima very much. I thought I’d curl up and disappear myself, but I couldn’t. I didn’t have time to let the pain of grief take me down which I suspect was both a gift and unfortunate.

My dear Mary Lally, my person, the Christine to my Meredith, died far too young just a few years ago – right before Nate was to be released from prison. I didn’t get to share that joy and hope with her, and I still miss being able to call her and laugh and cry about all that life has brought in that time. In the aftermath of her passing I had time and space to feel the loss of my friend, something the world doesn’t understand the devastation of, and it ripped me apart. It also revealed to me the grace that is also available even in grief. I wrote about that time in Good Grief, Gratitude, and Grace and Swimming in the Messy Stages of Grief.

Maybe all of these losses were the dress rehearsals for the most crushing loss of all – my beautiful son, Nate, died just a few months before his 30th birthday, just 6 months after being given his first real chance at living on his own. When the call came, a wail unlike any other came out of this mouth, over and over and over as I doubled over, trying to make sense of what I was being told. Numbness and shock settled in as we moved through the days and weeks, feeling little but pain and agony. Again, I said goodbye to a beautiful young man in a box, something I needed to see but never wanted to do. Somehow even then I knew I’d go on, but honestly there were times I didn’t want to. There may be times again. Sometimes the immensity of his absence lands like a sledgehammer on my heart.

I know some people don’t like the words lost and loss when we talk about death, but I use those words because these people have been lost to my day-to-day life and their absence is a loss that I feel deeply. It makes sense to me, and you’re free to use whatever terms make sense to you, of course.

After Nate left this earth, even though I saw him in the dramatic sunset that very evening and I felt his presence with me immediately, his absence in our life still hits me. There are still times I want to pick up the phone and talk with him or Mom or Mary, and the things we won’t get to talk about face-to-face hurt, leaving a big void in my world.

So, if we’re all going to die in the end, what’s the point of being here in this not-so-easy human reality? I’d love to hear your answers to this question – sharing our ideas is one way we learn and grow, which I do believe is the point of this Earth school.

We’re spiritual beings having a human experience, so we’re here to experience human – to feel all the feelings, and to grow as a soul. This is what makes sense to me. We’re here to live and to love, even after we’ve lost people who are so dear to us. We’re still here, and so we go on, trying to make sense of things that might never make sense, trying to find a purpose.

One thing I know for sure is that the lives of those gone before me matter, no matter what they looked like on the surface – these people touched lives and left a mark. Part of my purpose is to carry on the legacy and lessons I’ve learned from Nate, from Mary, from my mom. These lessons revolve around love and compassion and giving it freely. Michael and my dad showed me what it’s like to follow your dreams and listen to your heart, even if others don’t love that you are. Mary and my mom showed me what it meant to live, even when dealing with a disease that would ultimately take them out prematurely.

As I pondered this, “What’s it all about?” question, here’s some of what arose for me at this time in my life (I am quite sure our answers change over time):

The point of this life is to learn and grow so that we can serve others. The point is to be present for it, with it, to live it fully and to feel all the feelings that human brings with it, including joy and deep sadness, love and loss, and to not hold back on one for fear of the other. Life is here to be lived, and we are here to bring love, compassion, and healing to ourselves, to one another, and to our planet. That would be today’s answer, I think.

To show up for life. To embrace it. To be who we were born to be. To give what we have to give, and to keep asking the question, “What’s the point?” To listen and open our eyes, minds, and hearts to fresh insights, new understanding, different perspectives. To love. Above all else, to love and be loved. To challenge that which is not love.

I asked Love what she would add to these thoughts, and here’s what she offered:
Life is here to be lived, to breathe into your whole being. Life is within you and all around you – a mighty force to be honored. Life is a gift that was never promised and is never promised again in any moment. It is to be savored and cherished, for it is truly a precious, sacred journey of the soul. You are here to be and experience human, which includes pain. And, you are built to learn and grow from that pain so that you can deepen into love, connect more deeply as a soul, and open your heart even more. Let your heart be broken open.

In the times when you feel like you’re facing an unending battle, feeling lost, confused, alone, or scared it can be hard to see the point or to remember that things will shift. When you can’t see the way forward, maybe the point is simply to take that next breath… and then the next. I know people who have overcome dark, dark times and deep, deep hardships. They show me what’s possible when I find it hard to keep showing up.

And, so, I invite you to reflect and consider, what is the point of this life that is yours? How do you want to live it? How do you want to show up? Who do you want to be? Who can help you when times are tough? There are choices, even if life has been shitty.

As we honor Suicide Prevention Month and National Recovery Month, this feels like a relevant exploration. If you need help and don’t know where to turn, text or call 988 or chat https://chat.988lifeline.org/ . You don’t have to face your hard times alone.

Nate’s life was chaotic and tormented for much of it, but I am clear that his life mattered, and I’m touched by the way he lived – resiliently, passionately, loudly, creatively, curiously, joyfully, and painfully, and always with love.

May you know that you are loved.   May you know that you matter. May you be supported to make it to another day. Because, you’re here for a reason, and we need what you have to share. May you know laughter and beauty. May you cry your tears and scream your rage as you feel the impact of your losses and pain, as you fully embrace your humanity.

I’ll close with my favorite Mary Oliver poem that always, always, always moves me to tears:

The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice –
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do –
determined to save
the only life you could save.

Can you hear this new voice arising within you? What does it call you to?

We’re here to live. Of this I am certain.

What does it look like to you to live? What helps you keep going when times are hard?

If you’re in crisis, please call or text 988 – support is available.
There are also many resources that might support you on my Resource Page.
#RecoveryMonth
#RecoveryIsPossible
#SuicideAwareness
#SuicidePrevention
#MentalHealthMatters
#MentalHealthISHealth

Here's a playlist I created that I hope you enjoy - Life...

Please share your ideas and reflections with us - help us keep on going and remembering we're not in this alone! Much love to you as you keep on showing up.

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Different from Self-Care

8/20/2024

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Self-kindness… it’s what the Invitation to Change (a wonderful program for those who love someone who struggles with substance use) invites people to offer themselves every week (or better yet, every day). Every chapter in The Invitation to Change: A Short Guide ends with “What is a kindness I can allow myself this week?” and the caution to not jump over this critical consideration. But what does it really mean? Self-kindness is different from self-care, though certainly linked.

I told a friend recently how hard I had been on myself, how much I had been beating myself up, comparing myself to others and falling short, how harsh my words had been to my own ears. She listened with sadness and a a little confusion, saying, “But you’re really good at self-care. You do a lot of things for yourself.”

That’s when I knew there was an important distinction to make between self-care and self-kindness. Between what goes on above ground and below the surface, in the mind and heart.

She’s right. I do a lot of things for myself. I get myself to appointments that help keep this body going the best I can. I talk with my counselor regularly. And even healing practitioners, who do such a great job caring for others, also struggle with applying that same kindness to themselves.   Why? Because they’re human. And human is messy…

One shared with me her own invitation into self-care in the middle of the night, beginning with “I’m going to soften my jaw.” Yes. That is self-kindness. Simple, but not natural or it wouldn’t have required an intentional reminder. She invited me to think of 3 things I could do to be kind to myself during my session on her table. I began by softening my face – I hold SO much tension there. My grief lives there. The mere softening led me to letting my tears bubble up, come out, and flow, allowing the sobs that had been held for too long. In the safety of this alone time, I could do that, and it was kind to do so.

I don’t consciously hold it together, but subconsciously, I do. Too much. So much that it has to come out. It's kind to allow my grief space and expression. I was afraid I’d sob uncontrollably the whole time once I began. I found my fears were unwarranted. By simply allowing myself the chance to cry, to feel my sadness and grief without shying away from it, it could rise up, come out, and move through. I didn’t need to shove the pain down or push it away. With kindness and tenderness, I could allow it a much-needed release. After a few minutes, I found myself feeling more peaceful, calm and present, and I could breathe more deeply. For over an hour, my simple kindness to myself was to soften my face, feel my feelings, let my tears come, and breathe, riding all the waves that came without chiding myself, questioning why or where this came from, and simply allowing true expression.

So, how is self-kindness different from self-compassion and self-care?

Self-care is often thought of as the things you do – taking a bubble bath, exercising, eating right, getting enough sleep, or getting to appointments that help your well-being. BUT those same things done from a place of harshness, judgment, or obligation aren’t necessarily self-kindness. If, while you’re exercising, you’re berating your jiggly thighs or your inability to do as much as you think you should be able to, is that really self-care? If you’re forcing yourself to go to the gym because you know you should exercise, but you hate the gym, does that count? If you’re beating yourself up for needing so much sleep or for eating out when you were just too tired to cook, how kind is that? If you’re carrying out acts of self-care while also being really mean to yourself, how can you make peace with yourself and bring in more kindness and compassion?

I’ve learned that true self-care is deeper, more subtle than the things you’re doing on the surface and I’ve reframed it as being true to and gentle with yourself, one moment at a time. A friend recently shared to her true self-care as intending to be as tender as she can be with her whole life. We talked about tending the spirit being different than getting a pedicure. Oh yes, soul care, spirit care, tending our tender hearts is definitely different. Our hearts and souls need time and attention beyond what’s happening on the surface. They’re deeply affected by what’s going on within. Without mindful attention, I miss the inner battle between what I know to be realistic and true and the opportunity to stop the downward spiral into perfectionistic striving and feeling “not enough…”

Self-compassion is a way of being - an attitude with which we turn toward ourselves. According to Kristin Neff, self-compassion researcher and teacher, self-compassion has 3 elements: mindfulness, self-kindness, and common humanity. Self-compassion invites us to be mindful, present, and to acknowledge our feelings, as we remember that we’re not alone – that other people feel the way we feel at one time or another. Self-compassion invites us to be with ourselves with kindness rather than judgment, the way we would a beloved child or friend. It may involve forgiveness or gentle reassurance when we feel we’ve messed up or we’re falling short.

Self-kindness is one element of self-compassion that comes through in our words, thoughts, and actions toward ourselves. Are we being understanding, gentle, allowing the messy, imperfect experience that is the very essence of being human? Are we beating ourselves up or tearing ourselves down, harshly criticizing or judging, expecting more from ourselves than we would anyone else? Expecting perfection often gets in the way of self-kindness. I should know better! I can’t believe I did that! How could I forget? When we thrash ourselves with thoughts like this, we are not allowing our humanity. We are not taking into account things like burn-out, stress, lack of sleep, grief, or fear that get in the way of clear thinking.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but I caught myself feeling and thinking, “I hate myself” one day. The harshness of this thought caught me by surprise. As much as I chastise myself with little slips of, “What an idiot… how could I?” hate isn’t an energy I often experience, and I didn’t really know where it came from. I certainly didn’t want to reinforce it, but I also didn’t want to shun it.

Self-kindness invited me to look at what it was all about, to see it came from my mind that told me I wasn’t doing enough compared to others. I felt burdened by too many mistakes in a short period of time. I didn’t understand how I’ve been grieving almost 17 months and was doing better earlier on, so I judged that something was very wrong with me.

In the early days and months after Nate’s death, I easily and genuinely extended myself “all the grace,” because I knew it wasn’t reasonable to expect much, or anything, of me. As time goes on, even though intellectually I know I’m still very early in this grief journey, my conditioning creeps in making me feel like I’ve fallen behind and urges me to play an impossible game of catch-up.

There’s a big difference between what I “know” and what I do. Intellectually I can say, “I just don’t have the capacity for XYZ…” but when XYZ don’t get done, the louder voice inside of me berates me, judges me for wasting another day when I had the time but not the energy or desire. People who care about me see what’s really needed and invite me to “just be.” To rest. To do nothing and let it be ok. I get it. I’ve been learning these ideas for decades and teaching them for over 10 years. And yet, I’m not sure I really know how to just be and truly feel at peace with myself in that space. How do you really do nothing? What does that look like?

Signs of self-unkindness:

Judgy, critical thoughts like “What is wrong with me? How could I have done that? How could I have forgotten this?” are prevalent in a world of not-so-kind.

Basing how ok I feel about myself upon whether the kitchen table is clear of last month’s mail (it wasn’t until a few minutes ago), or whether the hutch has been dusted (it most definitely has not been since Nate died), or if I’ve remembered to pay the bills on time (I didn’t this month), or if I’ve sent the cards I’ve been meaning to send for weeks (Nope! They’re sitting here in a pile waiting for me), or if I’ve worked on my book as much as I wanted to (you probably already guessed - I haven’t! Shocker!).

Pushing ourselves to be more or do more than is reasonable.

Burning the candle at both ends, exhausting ourselves trying to get all the things on the never-ending to-do list done.

Sacrificing our own well-being for what others need from us.

Overwhelming ourselves with worry.

These are some of the ways unkindness might show up. Take a moment to think about how it comes out for you.

Why is this self-kindness thing so hard?

Most of us have never been taught to be kind to ourselves, and instead learned to be “nice,” and “good,” generous, and thoughtful toward others. And those are all good things, but somehow our minds have twisted that to make us believe that others’ needs are more important than ours. That it’s selfish to even think about ourselves, much less be kind. That it’s narcissistic to focus on our needs.

Kindness ought to be extended simply because you are, not because of what youI’ve done or haven’t done. Kindness doesn’t need to be earned. But when we’re not being kind to myself, we forget all of that.

My counselor recently said to me, “We know ourselves through doing. We must learn to love  ourselves for simply being.” (or something like that – I hope you get the gist of it). Ugh! I know, I know, I know, and it’s still so hard to do in everyday life! I recognize that my upbringing taught me to value my productivity, my contribution, and so when I don’t have the energy to produce or contribute much, I struggle. I feel better when I’m bringing value and serving in a way that brings meaning.

Grief often leads me to fritter away a blessedly open day, which could be ok if I would be kind to myself about it. If I’d give myself permission to do nothing or to just putter and see where the day takes me, then maybe I could feel ok about it. But when I hold unreasonable, unspoken expectations that don’t align with the reality of my energy or mindset, there’s a huge risk that I’ll fall into a spiral of shame and shortcoming.

If you judge yourself by how much you do, what you accomplish, or how well you’re keeping up with the demands of life, even if you’re going through something really hard right now, even if you’re completely exhausted and drained, or swimming in grief or struggling with a loved one, how might you be a little gentler with yourself?

Ways to get to self-kindness:

Ask “What do I need in this moment?” Take the time to pause and tune in to respond with gentleness, kindness, and true care. I often forget to remember this key question that readily leads to self-kindness.

Liz Gilbert has a beautiful practice of conversing with Love (the giant force of unconditional Love that’s available to us all). Asking, “Love, what would you have me know?” and jotting down Love’s response can render surprisingly tender and supportive notes that reveal what we, in our humanness, might be missing.

Talk with someone when you’re struggling. Know who your safe people are - people who can go to this very vulnerable place with you. Who can hear you? On a very anxious day, I felt validated and supported when my husband listened and reflected back to me all that was weighing on me. I was definitely minimizing the list! It’s also helpful when a friend gently says, “Don’t talk to my friend that way!”

Put up post-it notes to remind yourself of who you really are or to take time for self-kindness – good to look at when you begin to swim in regret. Things that will make you smile or laugh. As a friend reflected, this is a way to shift your mindset and, “Drink in more love, rather than bathe in self-hatred.”

Pause, breathe, and put your hands on your heart - a simple gesture of self-compassion that lets you know you’re here for you. Listen to any guidance or insights that rise up or simply take the time to whisper softly or silently to yourself, “I’ve got you. I love you. We will get through this.” ❤️

What might self-kindness look like?

In essence, self-kindness begins by paying attention to how you’re treating yourself. Noticing if your inner dialogue is harsher than you’d use with anyone else. Being aware whether your choices are harmful or supportive to your well-being.

It can be as simple as choosing to soften your jaw or your face or your fists.

It could be opening up some white space on your calendar if you’re feeling particularly stretched or just need a little more time and space. If there’s something you’d like to reschedule, give yourself the grace to do so.

Making a pact with yourself that you’re not going to talk meanly about yourself – your body, your intelligence, your behaviors… whatever it is for you. A friend shared with me her conscious decision to catch herself in the act, and gently say, “Oh, I’m not doing that anymore.” Honestly, self-abuse doesn’t help and may just drive you more deeply into whatever it is you don’t want to be doing.

Bringing curiosity to yourself can free you from judgment – “I wonder what’s going on for me?” rather than immediately jumping to “What the heck is wrong with me?” Maybe nothing’s wrong. Create a little space to find out.

Asking for help and delegating what tasks you can when overwhelm is bearing down on you.

Instead of beating yourself up for not being able to hear, make an appointment with an audiologist to get things checked out and maybe getting some support!

Saying “no.” Stepping away from people or groups that drain your energy or bring you down.

Taking time for the people, activities, and practices that you know fill you up and nurture and nourish you well.

Taking a conscious social media break – there’s a lot brewing out there right now, folks! You have to digest everything you take in, so take some breaks.

Letting go of “should’s” and instead being true to what you know you want or need.

Saying “yes” to fun, to life, even if it doesn’t “make sense.” Some of my favorite moments come from spontaneity and ventures that might look ridiculous but bring me great joy – like traveling hours to see a band we love.

Letting go of unrealistic expectations and cutting yourself some slack when you don’t make the best choice or you’ve been a little judgy toward yourself – remember, you’re human. Let go of any worry of, “But aren’t I just letting myself off the hook? Don’t I need to hold myself accountable?” You can get back on track without beating yourself mercilessly for a slip. Accept the reality that slips will happen.

Why does it matter?

Because the kinder you are to yourself, the more loving and available you can be for life and the things and people that need you. Because you deserve your own loving care. Because life is stressful and self-kindness can help soothe that stress which contributes to better physical and mental health.

Here’s a beautiful song from the masterful Brandi Carlile that I invite you to play on repeat if you need to. I think I’m going to give it a go myself! Stay Gentle

What are your thoughts?

What gestures of self-kindness do you allow yourself? How do you know when you’re being unkind to you? What strategies do you have for coming back to self-kindness? Why does it matter to you? Please share so that we can build our reservoir full of ideas to turn to when the going gets rough. Life’s hard enough without us piling more on ourselves.

May you be peaceful. May you be happy. May you be kind – to yourself as well as to others.
May you know you are loved and soak in your worthiness for love all the way to your very core.

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Tending Your Heart

2/19/2024

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Image by Kevin McIver from Pixabay

Guest blog by Heather Ross
Some events are so impactful that they create a distinct before and after in the timeline of your life. The events that unfolded in the second half of 2021 forever altered the landscape of my existence. Within just 6 months I was diagnosed and treated for breast cancer, including a double mastectomy, my divorce was finalized (resulting in the loss of crucial medical insurance which I needed for future treatments), and my 21-year-old daughter Helanna passed away from an overdose.

I realize this is a grim way to start a blog post, but surprisingly, the intensity of those experiences led me to a profound perspective shift and opened my life to new possibilities. Has it been easy? No! But I want you to know what’s possible, even after facing such huge challenges.

When I was in high school a friend and I were sitting on the front of a pontoon boat enjoying the refreshing breeze as her father was driving us to a restaurant on the lake. A water skier made a massive wave that caused the front of our boat to dip in the water. My friend and I were deep in the lake before we knew what happened. At first, I panicked, disoriented because I didn’t have time to take a deep breath. Then I stilled myself and waited to see if I floated up. Once I figured out which way was up, I also noticed the sunlight, and I swam toward it as fast as I could so I could take a deep breath and fill my lungs with oxygen again.

Unlike this boating accident, the events of 2021 left me disoriented with no buoyancy to help me float. There was no light to guide me to the surface so I could breathe again. I felt like I had lost everything. My mind relentlessly told me everything I had worked on for the first 49 years of my life had failed and I had no future. The grief from breast cancer, divorce, and losing Helanna sometimes felt like drinking from a fire hose, flooding me and taking me down.

I consider myself to be resilient, and before this time, when an area of my life collapsed, I built it back up better and stronger, but losing my daughter tested my strength in every way imaginable. I couldn’t imagine ever having the strength to face a future without her, so the painful thoughts intensified, becoming more and more believable.

I also started noticing memories that had not bothered me before my daughter passed away suddenly became traumatic, and I couldn’t understand why. After struggling on my own for a while, I sought EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) therapy to help me process my traumatic memories.   EMDR encourages the patient to briefly focus on the trauma memory while simultaneously experiencing bilateral stimulation (typically eye movements), which reduces the vividness and emotion associated with trauma memories, calming the nervous system.

Trauma is not only about the event itself. It is also about what happens inside us in response to the event. Trauma can be caused by any event that we experience as emotionally distressing, not just life-threatening events. The loss of my daughter made me feel very unsafe. I became preoccupied with thinking about the other horrible things that could happen. The more I thought about bad things happening the more unsafe I felt. It was a vicious cycle.

Trauma's impact extends beyond the event itself and infiltrates our thoughts, emotions, and memories. Our brains work in a think-feel-act cycle. We have a thought. That thought releases chemicals that we feel as an emotion in our body, and emotions lead us to action. Beliefs come from thoughts we think repeatedly. Our thoughts and beliefs affect our memories because our memories aren’t fixed. Each time we retrieve a memory we can distort it.

Over time a memory can become more about your thoughts and judgments about the memory than the actual memory. When trauma is involved, we distort our memories even more in what is called memory amplification. We change our recollection of our past, essentially changing our past. In this case we are making the past worse than it was. Changing our past affects how we perceive the present moment, and it can change our future because of the state of being we’re creating in this process.

This explains why my memories that weren’t traumatic previously became traumatic after my daughter passed away. Every time I retrieved those memories, I loaded the trauma with my judgments and feelings of guilt, grief, despair, hopelessness, and shame. I wasn’t aware I was distorting my memories until I started sorting it all out with EMDR.
The original feelings associated with certain memories had been written over, as if I had made changes to a Word document, and saved a newer, harsher version. The more times I retrieved the memories, the more painful they got. I was changing the feelings associated with the memories and what I made them mean about me. I started seeing myself differently – it was painful and it felt very true.

After an EMDR session where my counselor helped me peel away the layers of a highly charged memory of a conversation with my daughter, a lightbulb struck! For the first time I saw how I had changed my memories. The main emotion I had been swimming in with my memory before EMDR was shame. After EMDR, that feeling transformed to love for my daughter. Suddenly I could see the real picture and I could feel being with my daughter in that heartfelt moment again. I felt proud of how I supported her during that conversation, and I deeply felt the love between us as we talked.

This is where I got curious. If I had changed my past, present, and future by changing my memories in a way that was hurting me, maybe I could harness that power to create a positive healing experience instead. When I retrieve memories now, I include loads of compassion and understanding so I don’t keep traumatizing myself. Compassion and understanding are keys to unlocking healing.

My new perspective has me thinking about the possibility of building a beautiful future. I don’t know what my future will look like yet, but opening to the possibility that it will be filled with love and fulfillment rather than being dominated by pain and loss is the first step to creating it.

It’s not about sidestepping the pain of the void left by my daughter’s physical absence from my life. It’s about living with all that’s here and all that’s possible. I have an ache in my heart for my daughter and my life is beautiful because of my deep appreciation for every joyful experience and every moment with the people I love.

Want to hear more about this experience? Listen to Heather's podcast here!

Here's a meditation I recorded to go along with this post: Tending Your Heart. Lean in. You deserve your own tender care.

Heather Ross is the mother of a child who struggled with Substance Use Disorder, A Family Recovery Coach, Invitation to Change Certified, CRAFT trained, and the host of the popular podcast called Living with Your Child’s Addiction.

Heather offers a program for parents that is compassionate, family-centered, based on science, and teaches parents how to create their own peace of mind whether their child is in recovery or still using substances. She believes parents have more power than they realize and the best gift they can give their child is a healthy parent.

When Heather is not helping other parents, she enjoys spending time in nature with her dogs, going to sound baths on the beach, traveling, and creating beautiful memories with friends and family.

You can find out more about Heather and her offerings by visiting Heather Ross Coaching.
Here's Heather's free "A New Perspective about Enabling"
Listen to the Living While Loving Your Child Through Addiction podcast

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What Does it Really Mean to be Mindful?

Lessons from a Twisted Ankle

Choices

Slow it All Down... Even when Times are Urgent

Anger & Fear

Living Well within the Mess

Seeking Peace Even (Especially) in These Times?

Life... What's the Point?

Different from Self-Care

Tending Your Heart

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