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Heart Revolution

3/1/2022

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Today I come to you with a birthday wish… cause, yeah, it is my birthday!  But, before we get into all of that - how's your heart? Right now?  In this moment?  Go ahead… stop reading and doing whatever else you're doing and check in.  I like to place a hand or two on my heart to help bring to me to this center within.  What does your heart need in this moment?  How can you tend to your heart this day?  Because we need you and we need your heart to be well-loved, well-supported, and well-resourced for what I'm about to invite you into.  ❤

 Now, my wish… will you please, pretty please, join me in a Heart Revolution!?  I'm not even entirely sure what that means completely yet, but it's revealing itself to me bit by bit over these past few days so I'm going to try to share it with you here. As I write, know that I'm writing to myself and my heart as well as to you! 

Birthdays always invite me to pause and reflect – reflect on the past…what life has been, and also to look ahead to what’s possible. 

This week I took an hour and wrote a letter to what I am calling Beloved, a source of wisdom beyond my small self – for 30 minutes I poured my heart out about concerns, desires, questions that were within me.  Then I took another 30 minutes to write a letter from Beloved to me (and, interestingly, she also called me “Beloved.”)  As I wrote, I felt myself surrounded by a loving powerful presence.  It felt good to take that time to tap into this wisdom, and I was reminded to give myself truly nourishing grace and space.  So, I did.

I gave myself a period of time with no expectations. No pressure.  No filling of the time with tasks or work.  Our time here in Hilton Head is winding down, and I have 2 full days of training this week, so I want to allow myself to move through the other days moment by moment.  I’m looking at all the work and books I brought with me (of course more than I could possibly do or read in these couple of months – I always do, because I like choices).  I can be disappointed and upset with myself and focus on what’s undone or unread, or I can appreciate what I have gotten done and that I’ve allowed the books and projects to call to me. I can remember that January was largely consumed with grief and the energy that that required, and I can be grateful that I was able to give myself time to be with that. 

The to-do lists will always, always, always be never-ending!  There will always be work that could be done, classes that could be taken, chores that are waiting.  And so, we have to work to actually choose life!  We have to actively claim moments to enjoy life. 

There will always be pain and sadness and suffering in our own lives, in people we love, and in the world at large.  And, there is also always love, peace, joy, goodness, and generosity.  We can choose where we direct our attention and what energy we bring and spread in the world. 

The world needs an infusion of hope, love, compassion, and possibility right now.  When we focus on what’s possible rather than on what’s wrong, we become part of the solution, part of the sea of change.  I believe in us as humans, in our inherent goodness.  In our ability to grow and evolve.  I believe and know that we are more than what we see on the news. 

There will always be fear, anger, and horror while simultaneously there is prayer, loving kindness, and compassionate aid.  Join me in brightening the tapestry of humanity by looking toward what’s possible, healing, and coming together.  We are more than we know.  We can become greater than what we can imagine, and not through power over or cruelty, hatred, or division, but through love, compassion, kindness and an understanding of our connection to all beings. 

This does not mean bury your head in the sand.  No.  Honor your pain.  We must face head-on the reality of what’s before us, of the things that trouble and horrify us, and absolutely do what we can to assist.  This is not a spiritual bypass or toxic positivity.  It is a call to look at what’s here and bring a fierce compassion to it, refusing to get on the bandwagon of hatred and division, so that we as a people and a planet become better, stronger, more resilient, and better able to survive.  We become part of the healing.

Destruction and devastation coexist with transformation, new birth, growth, and evolution.  As things are torn apart, new possibilities arise.  We do not live in a static world…things are constantly in motion.  Nothing stays the same.  So, we get to choose, moment by moment, our role in this grand play. 

It’s why coming home to ourselves is where we must begin.  Find your ground, your center, and speak and act from that place – solid within, connected to both Earth and Universe. Tap into your own guiding light of purpose, integrity, alignment and ask, "What would Love do?  What is my action to take to contribute to the greater good?"  

We can do this on a personal level and also for greater community and global crises.  I guess that's why I wrote about Filling Your Own Cup last time.  We need to be filled up, rested, nourished in order to show up in this way.  
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Find your faith.  Pray your prayers.  Send your good vibes.  Believe in hope and possibility. Allow yourself to dream of a better tomorrow.  Be part of a revolution of humanity, compassion, and love.  Each day this is the opportunity.  Feed the fear, frenzy, aggression and division or bring love, peace, care, calm, and connection.  Begin right here in this intentional moment.  It will lead you to the next.  

When you begin to spin, react, get caught in the madness, come back.  To breath.  To life – it’s happening right here.  Re-center.  Re-ground.  And, begin again.  Choose to live for those who can’t.   Send strength and love to those in need.  Be a beacon of light and a force of love.  Do what you can to make a difference in the way you can in the place you are called to. 
Each and every one of us matters.  Each and every one of us makes a difference, for better or for worse – our energy ripples out.  In this moment you get to choose.  No one else is in charge of how you show up to life and for life.  That’s on each one of us.  No matter what. 

Who do you want to be?  How do you want to be? Deep down inside… for real.  Bring that!  It’s more than enough.  Just be real.  With all your heart.  The revolution begins within, and then with coming together with other inspired, empowered beings ready to be part of something better - those who dare to dream, who dare to see the humanity in one another no matter outward appearances, who know and respect the beauty of the land and all of her inhabitants.  People who dare to love despite the certainty of heartbreak.  Now is not a time to stand silent. Now is a time to show up boldly, bravely, in places you are called.  Let’s be part of a heart revolution! 

Your invitation (should you choose to accept it):
Take some time to quiet your mind and connect with the wisdom of your heart. If writing is your way, write.  If you prefer to paint or draw, do that.  If you’re a visionary, allow the vision to come to you.  But, find a place where you can sit quietly and ask for insight, guidance, fresh perspective, and new ideas for a problem in your life or in the world.  Allow your mind to be open, let yourself be surprised, and see what comes.  Ask to be shown.  Listen.  Allow it to flow to you and through you so that you become a vessel of this wisdom. 

Remember Neale Donald Walsch’s Conversation with God books?  Each one of us has access to a Wisdom beyond our mind.  Each one of us can tap into a wisdom that comes through our heart.  When we act from this place, we surprise even ourselves with what’s possible. 
 
Dare to dream.  Dare to hope.  Dare to ask.  Write down your question or what you’re struggling with before you go to sleep and allow insights to come in your dreams. 

Together we will rise.  Here's a meditation to support you.  And, here’s a powerful and beautiful song from Alicia Keys and Brandi Carlile to inspire, uplift, and encourage you onward! 

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Swimming in the Messy Stages of Grief

1/18/2022

6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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Out of the Darkness...Into the Light

12/21/2021

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As I revisit and revise this post, originally written for MomPower last year, I am sitting with some fresh, raw, and very deep sadness.  I am grateful to re-read this message and take it into my own heart as I sit with myself with tears streaming down my face. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let’s face it, the past 2 years have carried a full load of darkness, collectively, along with anything that you might have experienced personally. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Places We Grow
It’s in the dark,
in the shadows,
where we stretch and grow.
 
We face ourselves
and see a new or forgotten aspect,
a piece we’d rather ignore or deny.
 
But there it is…
staring us down,
daring us to change,
to find a new way,
or to simply come into acceptance.
 
Sometimes it’s about overcoming
or adjusting.
Finding a way to do this with
love, compassion,
and gentle communion.
 
Honoring the self…
who I am,
where I am,
what I need,
what my baggage is.
 
And stepping into a deeper layer,
excavating and shifting,
allowing new light in,
and new hope out.
 
These are the places we grow –
often watered
and nourished with tears.
 © Barb Klein, 2016, “The Places We Grow,” from 111 Invitations: Step into the Full Richness of Life
 
Where and how can you nourish yourself today?  How might you allow some new light in--to your being, to your life?  How can you allow a little more hope to shine into the world? 
 
Begin by greeting yourself exactly where you are--gently, with tenderness, care, and compassion.  Offer yourself the space and grace to feel into what’s alive within your heart at this moment.  Ask your heart what it needs at this moment to be truly nurtured and nourished.  Then respond accordingly.  You deserve your own loving care.
 
We are on the cusp of a new year and we can only hope that 2022 is bringing with it new possibility, hope, and fresh beginnings.  Today let’s pause.  Let’s look at our lives and our loved ones with reverence. Let’s honor this journey where we have walked, crawled, and stumbled while we look ahead to the light of new creativity.  Let’s let this darkest day of the year—December 21-- be a personal pivotal moment for us to enter an illuminated future.  



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One Step at a Time!

9/15/2021

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What are you taking away? Please share!!  

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Disappointing People

8/4/2021

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

Your turn to reflect…

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

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

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


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Happy Birthday, Ethel!

5/25/2020

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It’s Memorial Day.  And, it’s also my mother-in-law’s birthday.  She would have been 95, and our missing her is strong, as she’s only been gone for a couple of months.  This morning I reflected on the life she lived and the tenacity, persistence, strength, and heart it must have taken for her to live it. 

Her husband died in 1965, leaving her with 4 boys to raise (from my husband who wasn’t yet even a year old to his oldest brothers who were both already in college).  She had to learn to find an inner strength in the midst of what I imagine was tremendous grief.   She had to learn to ask for help, which I imagine did not come easily to this fiercely independent woman.  What she didn’t need to do was to find another man to complete her.  She knew she was complete as she was, and nobody was going to tell her how to parent! 

Ethel, I love you, and I honor you, and I am so very grateful for all that you did for us and for our boys.  They love you with all their hearts and will never forget the special relationship you had.  Thank you for being an integral part of our lives.  Thank you for giving birth to Tom and raising him to be such an amazing man, husband, and father.  Ethel, you done good!  Are you kidding me!?  You done great!! You are a hero.

On this day, which happens to also be Memorial Day, as we honor the heroes of this land, I include you.  Against all odds, you raised 4 boys to be independent, strong, wise, loving, caring men who each was able to walk his own path, find his own way, and become who he was born to be. 
But, that wasn’t enough for you, dear lady.  Your heart was so big that you helped the lost ones in school – the kids who no one else was able to help or support; the kids that others thought were a problem.  You showed up for them, loved them, and found a way to teach them.  What’s more is they delighted you with their mischievous ways!!

That wasn’t enough.  Your mission in this life was to help kids, and you wanted to do even more!  So, at the youthful age of 60 you decided to become a foster mother.  Wow!  I know you saved some lives and families with your commitment to loving and supporting them through some tough, tough times.  Thank you.  I honor you. 

Thank you for your service.  Thank you for showing your boys what a strong, independent woman does!  You amaze me, and thank you for unleashing my heart and soul to flourish.  Witnessing you and learning from you has helped me to claim my strength and to find my way.  You broke the mold you were told to live in, and have helped me to do the same! 

Thank you for bringing your fierceness in alongside my mom’s softness and quiet strength.  You have both shown me what it’s like to rise above the adversity of unexpected and deep loss and to find your way in uncharted territory, carving out your own way, living a life that was full and rich and fulfilling.  Each one of you being you.  In your way. 

Yes, the men of our families went to war, and today they will be remembered and honored, and today I also remember and honor the women who carried on at home.  The women who somehow tended to themselves and their families until they could break free to be who they were born to be.  The women who climbed Bald Mountain in their 70’s!!  Today I honor you women who showed me how to live and love deeply and fiercely. Women who showed me that you don’t curl up and die when the going gets tough, but you somehow find a way to keep on going and find the things that bring you joy! 
​
Happy birthday, Ethel! I hope you and Betty have found one another and are having a great picnic party today!! 

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    About me...

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

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Barb Klein
Inspired Possibility
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barb@inspiredpossibility.com