Fleeting Inspirations

So I was home today because my son's school was closed for snow.  I was having the familiar guilty, conflicted feelings I always have when I have to call in to work.  I wrote down what I wanted to get done today and put some music on to clean the kitchen.  I had this great idea for a blog.  I knew I wanted to write about it today and I added it to my list of things I'd like/need to do today.  Five hours later I sit down to write and I can't remember any of the inspiring things that came to me while listening to "Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes" in the kitchen.  I'd like to say that doesn't happen a lot but I'd be lying.  I know I can't always stop what I'm doing to follow my inspiration but I need to at least write down a note or two.  Maybe that would help.  I'm sure if a scientist studied that part of my brain that is stimulated by the inspiration, it  would be nowhere near the long term memory center.  I have found that to be true during emotional process work as well.  I've had deep realizations that feel like game changers in my psyche and if I don't write about it to solidify the experience more deeply, I can lose the lesson.  I know my body will remember, but I don't always have the mental ability to recall the insight. 

Lack of inspiration isn't my issue.  Just the other day I thought, it would fun to create a beyblade group for my son or I should email the PTA about the idea I saw online about an art project that celebrated each unique individual at the school and I'm always holding space for the performing and healing arts space I want to create.  So what is the missing link from an idea and the manifestation of that idea.  I know a lot have been written on the subject, but what is it for my specific brand of resistance? 

And just like that - I remembered part of my earlier inspiration.  And promptly lost it as my son asked me if he could play with his tablet.  Ah yes, avoiding disappointment.  I started thinking about the last time I was really excited about something.  Really looking forward to a project, event, anything.  I was really looking forward to spending Christmas with my family this year but that was all I could come up with.  When did I start shielding myself form being disappointed?  It happened little by little.  Most of the time, I didn't even know I was doing it.  What made me notice it?  I started meditating everyday for a short time.  My negative thinking was really becoming a problem.  Do you ever get sick of your own thoughts?  I sure do.  I've only been consistently meditating for forty-some days (which is a lot for me) but I started noticing a connection between my bad attitude and lack of inspired action.  What if I let myself get really excited about something? Anything?  And take small actions toward that thing.  Not enough to freak me out, but baby steps to move me closer to realizing that excitement.  I could allow myself to get as excited as I see my son get about things on a daily basis.  I may be disappointed.  I may even get my heart broken.  But that is the kind of life I want to live.  This emotional safe one is kind of a downer. 

If you could pick one thing to get excited about, what would it be? 

Adventures in Blue Hair

If you know me, you know that back in March I decided to dye my hair blue.  Not just a strip or two, but all of the hair on my head.  No big deal, right?  Who cares?  Well, I've been talking about doing it for more than a year but never had the "guts" to pull the trigger.  It was always one good reason or another - too much money, what if I look dumb, it will trash my hair, what will my job say?  I'm in my 40s - who does that?

 I do.

I've been blue for three months now.  My husband helped me pull the trigger and not only found me a stylist, he made the appointment and got me a gift certificate to pay for it!  I'm glad he did otherwise I may still be talking about it.  Lots of people ask me why I did it.  I don't have a good reason other than - I wanted to.  I've never done it before and I've wanted to for a long time.  Blue is my favorite color and when I see it, it makes me happy.  I wish I had a better story.  Someone asked if it was for Autism Awareness and another asked if I lost a bet.   A seven year old girl said I looked like an Oompaloompah.  Which, by the way, they have green hair.  Maybe I just wanted to see if I'd do it.  I'm glad I did.

One outcome of this divergence from natural hair color is this - I've had more friendly conversations with total strangers than I would have ever had with my normally brown hair.  Sometimes I forget it's blue and I wonder if I have something on my face or toilet paper hanging out of my pants if I see someone staring at me for a second.  Then I remember-it's the hair.  I promise you, this isn't for attention.  It's about expression.  It's about being me and doing something out of the norm that makes me happy.  Will I keep it forever? No.  Will I do it again.  There is a pretty good chance I will.

I'm very popular with elementary school girls.  If I'm feeling down and just want to be invisible, it is harder to do, but I will tell you that when I catch myself in the mirror, I like what I see a whole lot more than I did when my hair was brown.  I started thinking about why?  For someone who has a long history of disordered eating and being overweight off and on for many of my younger years, I was always (consciously or unconsciously) trying to fit into that narrow lens of "beauty" that that I thought I was supposed to fit into in order to be happy.  I never felt I measured up no matter what my size.  And by the way, did I mention, that fitting in this lens was a competition?  That's why it's so huge and weird for me to say "I like the way I look with blue hair".  It's me and I think it's pretty.  Am I allowed to say that out loud?  Does that make me a narcissist?  Self absorbed?  How dare I write a whole blog about the color of my hair!  How dare I say that I like the way I look - who do I think I am?   Yet here I am.

I thought some of the reactions that people shared with me were fun.  You have to understand, normally I'm pretty nondescript.  Not someone you would stop on the street for any reason.  A lot of little children will stop me and say they like my hair and that is so cool.  Many woman shared that they have wanted to do this color or that but never did it.  I get it.  One person told me I was brave - I'm not sure about that.  Remember, my husband helped get things rolling.  The woman who did my mammogram said that my personality didn't match my hair.  I'm not sure what that means but I think it was compliment.  Maybe not.  :) Either way, it was fun to step out of the social norm, although in Richmond, it's not so abnormal to see many different "unnatural" hair colors walking around the city.  If nothing else, it was a great social experiment.  And to my inner artist, it was the most fun that I have had in a long time.  So here's to following through on some of those creative ideas that come to us each day.  That's all for now.  twg

Nurturing the Spark

I took my son to his first drum lesson yesterday.  I think I was more excited than he was.  He's been wanting to play the drums for more than a year.  And when you are only 5 getting ready to turn 6, that's a long time.  My husband and I encourage him when he mentions an instrument he wants to play and have often found ourselves on a field trip to the music store just to look around.  My son is a "Renaissance Man" and is interested in a lot of things.  It's on of the things I really like about him.  Anyway, as his first lesson progressed, I found myself unconsciously thinking:

"When are they going to nurture the spark?"

"When are they going to let him express himself?"

How is he ever going to know the satisfaction of self expression if the whole lesson is technical?  Why would he ever want to continue these lessons and work on technique at the age of 5 if he never gets to show his teacher what he's got?  I just couldn't get these nagging questions to quiet down.

All that being said, I have to say that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the the lesson or the teacher.  It was age appropriate.  He learned some basics and thank goodness it was only thirty minutes.  It just seemed very academic - all work and no play.  Almost like it was designed to make me happy.  I absolutely understand the necessity of fundamentals and all of that.  And I had to laugh because every time my son tried to talk, the teacher nipped that in the bud.  And anyone who knows my son, knows that he's a talker and it would be thirty minutes before the lesson even started?  He has a lot to say.  And he wants you to listen.  So, as impressed as I was at the teacher's ability to keep focus, I kept feeling like there was no room for Jackson in his lesson.  I feel like that in my life too sometimes.  I've been working on putting more "Tiffiny" in my day.

Now I've come to accept that I'm a little different than a lot of other parents, especially in my priorities.  And since I haven't quite found my "tribe" in my daily life, I run into this on a somewhat regular basis.  Nurturing that spark, that light, creativity, heart, spirit - whatever you call it is so important to me.  I don't always know how to do it, but it is always my intention.  I feel like it's my job.  It's priceless and it needs nourishment.  Of course, really I want that too , but I guess that's what we do.  We offer what we also need ourselves.  And I know it's unrealistic that every person, teacher, mentor he comes in contact with will help support this goal, but I had high hopes for the music lesson without even realizing it.

So many of our lights get dim way too early.  Many American families feel stresed out and crave more balance in their lives.  I do too.  But what is balance?  More comfort?  Less things to do? Less stress?   Maybe.  Or maybe it means more spark?

I know I'm not alone.  So instead of trying to jam a square peg into a round hole like I've tried to do in the past.  I will accept what is as best I can and continue to search for my tribe.

PS Jackson said to me this evening, "Mom, you have played drums enough for one day.  It's time to stop but don't worry, you can play tomorrow at 10 am."  I told you I was as excited as he is!

tg  

A Mom's Kindergarten Jitters

Next week my son will begin his academic career - Kindergarten.  He is a confident, in-the-moment kind of guy, so he seems pretty laid back about the whole thing.  I love that about him.  He is ready. He is already asking me questions like, "Why do people speak different languages?"  And he loved the story I told him about how people used to think the world was flat. He thought it was hilarious! Now I'm not sure if those topics will be covered in Year One, but he'll get there.

What surprised me about embarking on this adventure is MY feelings about it.  I figured I'd feel something, just not this. Sure, I'm sentimental about this rite of passage, this gateway into a larger world, but this feeling of trepidation that I keep trying to ignore is what I find so interesting.  It boils down to this.  I hope he doesn't feel like I did.

My son is a vibrant, smart, creative spirit who is full of amazing energy. He is interested in a lot of different things.  I don't ever want him to think for one second that he isn't talented or that he doesn't have anything to offer the world.  As I studied the usual subjects in school and even in my extra-curricular activities, I felt more and more generic, untalented and unimportant.  I did well in school but because I didn't feel like I fit into any of the boxes that I was presented with, (I wasn't good in sports, I didn't want to be a doctor or a lawyer, I couldn't sing, and even though I loved to dance, I never could get good enough to get up on pointe, which I deemed to be the most beautiful thing in the world at age 9) I assumed those were the only boxes there was.  It took many more years for me to find my boxes and undo the images I created from my earlier schooling.

I need to be careful not to put my stuff about school on my son.  I do consciously try to bring his attention to a world of infinite boxes as I tend to my inner elementary school kid. I guess this is what they mean when they say "your children will raise you".

"Everyone is a genius.  But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing it is stupid."  - Albert Einstein

Taking the Leap

Taking the leap. It feels more like a grand jete but a lot less graceful.  A cannon ball feels more accurate.  If it works out, I will label it an act of faith and if it doesn't, then it will be that stupid thing I did when I was 40.  The jury's still out.

Oh ya, the leap was that I quit my job.  I didn't mean to. I really didn't. What I meant to do was reduce my hours.  I was looking for a little more balance.  But when that didn't work out, the conversation that ensued resembled a beautiful melody - the kind that leads you somewhere. This particular melody led to my resignation.  And for the first ten days following, I felt awesome, powerful and happy.  I was actually surprised how good I felt.  There was even a little more spring in my step.  This must be the "right" decision.  Right?  Then fear came crawling in slowly.  I hope I didn't just put my family in jeopardy.  Will there be enough?  Did I make a mistake?  I have to stop evaluating my decisions based on how I feel in the moment.  That's a hard way to live in the world.

The truth is I made a bold choice. One that my family supports (bonus!) and that was talked about at length even though I hadn't made a final decision until that day.  Now it's my job to live into the decision rather than turn away from it like I'm bracing myself against a cold wind.  I will have more time with my son before he starts kindergarten and more time to develop and promote "Dance Like Nobody's Watching". And I'm taking my own advice.  I'm working it out thru dance.

I attended a wellness fair yesterday to help get the word out about DLNW.  I was feeling self conscious going around talking with people about my vision even though I have clarity about it in my heart.  Somewhere between my heart and my voice, I pick up doubt and self consciousness.  And when only a few people got up to dance during my workshop, I decided to dance thru my self conscious feelings.  They didn't go away, but they were tolerable.  (The feelings that is, not the people).   The thing that surprised me after dancing was that below my feelings of insecurity was the clarity that I felt more like myself than I had in a really long time.  And that felt really good.

So as I embark on this mission of mine to create more and more opportunities for people to dance, I have to be willing to hold the space until more people join me.  Until then, I will keep showing up and holding the invitation to dance.

My Good Friend Fear

This could be an entry in my journal as much as a blog.  Or maybe it's to anyone who struggles to make decisions.  Especially conscious ones.  I've often described my spiritual journey and life in general as one where I fumble along bumping into this and that and eventually I end up where I'm supposed to be. It's not always graceful but it gets the job done.

In the last year or so I have felt "old" for the first time.  By the way, "old" is not a feeling.  It surprised me a little, especially when I'd find myself around someone much older than me with double the vitality and way more connected to their beauty.  What's that about? I wondered.  I also started asking myself questions like,

"Am I too old to...have a baby?"
"Is it too risky? Too late? Am I too heavy? Too tired? Too...whatever?"
"Is it too hard to move to settle in a new part of the country?"

Then it hit me.  I am asking the wrong questions.

"Do I want to...have a baby, move to a new city, etc.?"
"What am I scared of?"

Now we are getting somewhere.  And my answer is rarely just a yes or no.  It's usually yes AND no. And both voices have value. That second question about fear is the key.  I'm afraid of unknown hardships and "bad" things happening directly linked to my choices.  I'm afraid  that I'd be bringing things on myself instead of just letting things be and being content with what is.  I want clear guidance. A burning bush would due.  :)  Until then, I will stay here with what is familiar just because I know what to expect.

Now I need a voice greater than my fear to come in and speak. Sometimes I feel like I'm making it up in my head or just saying what I would say to a good friend. I've learned that that is not a bad place to start.

My bottom line at this moment in time is that there will be both positive and negative outcomes to whatever choice I make. The goal is to make it consciously and not the from the old, comfortable "this is what I know" fear place. It seems simple enough as I write it but much more complicated when it rolls around in my head for anything length of time.

If you are interested in this idea of letting the different parts of you have a voice, check out the Pathwork Lecture on "Meditation For Three Voices" at www.pathwork.org.

Until next time.
t

Going Away to Come Home - Pathwork Reunion 2013

I am feeling immense gratitude this morning. It's almost overwhelming. I'm up before God and on my way to a Pathwork reunion with the Transformation Program class I graduated with in 2008. I can't wait. I look forward to sitting in that familiar circle once again. I love our group. I love our commitment, our heart, our occasional irreverence, our laughter, all of it. There is new gratitude too. I feel grateful for choosing to be a part of such an amazing program many years ago and following it through to the end. I almost joined the class the year before and I almost took a year off between the fourth and fifth year. I'm glad I began when I was single and had more time to devote to my personal process and I'm grateful for these reunions to rekindle my love for the work and reconnect with our group. It is sacred time. We are the only class I know of that creates these kinds of gatherings.

I was introduced to Pathwork quite by accident in 1996 when I was seriously addressing my food addiction. It was / is the exact right balance of emotional process work, bodywork, and spirituality for me. I haven't found anything else that goes deeper. It allows me the space to access places and states of being that I had unconsciously longed for but couldn't reach. It challenges me to fearlessly look at all parts of my Self in a process which I have found to be life changing. It meets me where I am. And to do all of this with such amazing people and to be a witness to their work is something really special.

I've been known to say that becoming a mom has ruined all my time away from home because I miss my son and I feel bad for leaving him and my husband (even though they are perfectly fine without me for a couple of days). I remember how I felt when my mom would go away for a short time. Funny thing is, my son is super psyched for a boys weekend full of M&M pancakes with whipped cream for breakfast - the patented “mom's away from home breakfast”. From what I can gather, he does not experience that same empty feeling I did when my mom was away so I have to be careful not to assume that he feels the same way I did as a child.

Jackson, my son, was very sweet as I left this morning. He made sure that we performed our special “DAP” that we do when we leave each other. Created by my husband, it is a ritual of kisses, hugs, high fives, knuckles and the like that makes us both feel better when parting. I couldn't help but feel, dare I say blessed, to feel how much I love my family as I go to spend time with a different family. I hope to come home better than when I left. I can already feel the work starting to work on me. I'm leaving the day to day behind to delve deeper into my self. The connection to my fellow Pathworkers is strong and I can't wait to see what unfolds over the next few days.

I am keenly aware of all the people who have made this time possible for me. I look forward to paying it forward in big and small ways. I am empowered by this work because I am reminds that even when I feel powerless over people, circumstances and life in general, I can always work on myself. And when I do that, I have the power to change everything.

Dancing the Parh of Surrender

Today I had the opportunity to co-facilitate a two hour dance workshop, or retreat if you will.  We talked about things like honesty, courage, owning our mistakes and living consciously.  And then we danced.  We danced a lot.  And it was good.  I have missed dancing so much.  There is nothing quite like connecting my body to my heart and my heart to the music, other people and to spirit.  It gives me the opportunity to get it all out. The stress, the extraneous thoughts, the feelings.  We danced to rock n roll, world music, ballads and more.  Each piece thought out carefully to match the concepts we were discussing.  One of my favorites was Pat Benetar's "All Fired Up".  Such a great song.  The lyrics get me every time.

"Livin' with my eyes closed.  Goin' day to day.
I never knew the difference, never cared either way.
Lookin' for a reason.  Lookin' for a sign.
Reachin' out with both hands.
I gotta feel the kick inside.

All fired up.

Now I believe there comes a time when everything just falls in line.
We live and learn from our mistakes, our deepest cuts are healed by faith.  Now I believe..."

I think this is my anthem.  And not just because Pat is a cool rocker.  The thing is, just because I've awakened at one time in a particular area doesn't guarantee that I'll stay awake.  This has proven to be a difficult lesson for me to learn.  Humbling to say the least.  But it is an important one.  I've been graced with many levels of recovery from food addiction - physically and emotionally.  For years this recovery felt ingrained and second nature.  But then things changed, as life has a tendency to do.  My old "new" ways of being in the world didn't work for me anymore.  I kept banging a square peg into a round hole.  Instead of adapting to being a working mom, I kept trying to do all the things to take care of myself that I did as a single woman.  The internal struggle I felt was intense and I was ill equipped to handle the pressure.

The key to my sanity is surrender.  I have to end the internal war.  The only way I know how to do that is to keep noticing when the battle flares up.  When it does, I say, "There it is again.  The fighting, the blaming and the shame."  No judgement. Just observing and not "feeding" it.  I need to find new ways to adapt to the things I cannot change (or don't want to change) in my life.  The deeper my surrender, the more my inner resources are available to me.  I think about the "good guy / bad guy" shows my son watches on TV and it reminds me that I can use my power for good or evil.  :)  Sometimes I use it for good and sometimes I'm the bad guy.

Each day I pray to let go of the fixed ideas I have about the way things should be and the ability to be open up to new ways of being.  And when I don't know what the next right thing is - I can dance.  And if nothing else, I feel more connected.  And that's a good start.

Here's to the journey.

t

Nostalgia - Opening My Heart to the Present (Happy Anniversary)

My wedding anniversary is coming up and as with any milestone, I think back to what it was like before, how it all happened, what it's like now and what my hopes are for the future.  It's also a really good time for a gratitude list.  Sometimes it is easy to romanticize the past and think of all the things we miss.  That is not the case for me this time.  In fact, the stories I remember from my dating escapades tend to be more humorous than anything else. Sometimes I wonder how I ever got myself into those situations?  I have been told in the past that my "picker" must have been broken.  You know, the part of you that chooses who you are going to go out with?  Ya, that part. It is important for that part to be in good working order.  Otherwise, you may have stories like these:

First, there was a guy who I had just met.  We exchanged phone numbers and he called me the next day to say "I love you".  (Yikes!)  Or the guy I met at a sweat lodge. (I know.  I know).  We went out on a date and ended up at a Starbucks. (Go figure).  We stared into each others eyes in silence for forty minutes while I literally watched his face shapeshift from young  to old and male to female.  We never spoke of this shapeshifting but he never called me again so I'm not quite sure what happened there.  And then there is my favorite embarrassing story of all time.  A guy I had only gone out with a few times came by to pick me up for a date.  I was dressed to impress, hair, make up, the whole nine yards.  He came in and we were making casual conversation on the couch.  You know, the kind you have when you are both trying to make a good impression.  Well, he said something funny and I laughed while taking a sip of water. (You see where this is going).  I started to cough but I couldn't breathe.  I stood up to catch my breath.  No luck. My airway was blocked.  I looked at him with panic in my eyes.  He jumped up and started giving me the Heimlich maneuver.  He thrusted his fist into my abdomen three times. On the third time I not only coughed but farted really loud.  Panic gave way to utter mortification as we both doubled over each other laughing.  Not the impression I was going for, but an impression none the less.

I've never been able to pull off hip, slick and cool. (Obviously).  I still remember how I felt that night.  Shear embarrassment on so many levels.  The funny thing about it. He called back.  Go figure.

Needless to say, I found dating exhausting.  Other people are way better at it than me.  Those guys all came and went.  And now here I am years later; grateful to the many memories I have with my husband.  Our first pseudo-date, the time he drove two hours to bring me flowers and ended up sneezing the entire way, and our amazing wedding day on top of a mountain just to name a few.  Nostalgia isn't all bad, especially when I remember the good times and in the process, it opens my heart a little more to the present.

t

Precious Gifts to a Chattering Mind

The word mindfulness always seemed a little off to me.  I mean, I get the concept.  Being more conscious, as opposed to mindless or careless.  But when I'm letting go of thoughts in my head, doesn't that make my thinking mind LESS full?  Semantics I guess.

There have been three particular experiences that have left me without thought.  Times where being in the moment almost seemed mandatory.  And it is these times that are most special  to me.

The first is a space I've experienced a number of times and that is while dancing.  I have a dancer's spirit and find that in the dance is where I feel most at home.  It's my purest form of expression.  Believe it or not, rhythm tap has a profound way of quieting my mind. It must have something to do with its percussive nature and inherent musicality.  I love when you are practicing a piece your body is still learning.  Especially one that is fast.  You can't help but be in the moment.  When a thought pops up like, "You are never going to get this next phrase.""   Then you mess up.  It happens without fail.  Conversely, the thought might be, "You are doing GREAT!  You've got this!". Then you mess up again!  The process of switching from brain to body memory and back again is fascinating to me.

Maybe that is what all three experiences have in common.  The body and the senses take precedence over thinking.  It's a nice change from the normal mind chatter.  

The second experience only happened once.  I attended a gathering at the National Cathedral in Washington, DC a number of years ago.  The Dalai Lama was in town and I had the pleasure of witnessing Tibetan monks chanting for peace.  The beautiful sounds filled the Cathedral and my heart.  It blew my mind. No thought could enter..  I felt so grounded and centered and excited all at the same time.  I could feel the sound.  Afterwards, I thought "This is way better than me sitting in meditation at home.  If I had these guys with me all the time, I'd be enlightened in no time!" 

The third is not something that felt quite as good, but was just as beautiful if not more so.  That was labor.  The kind right before childbirth.  I remember trying to remember what my doula had taught me about positions, breathing and techniques that were taught to help the pain.  Then came the moment of surrender where thinking and words became useless and it was time for my body to take over.  I couldn't think my way out of this one.  Nothing I could do was going to be better than surrendering - to my body, to nature, and to the consciousness of millions of women that have done this before me.  

And so I take these gifts with me as mile markers on the journey.  Precious gifts to a chattering mind.

t

So what's wrong with a little "down time" at home?

Most everyone loves three day weekends and I am no exception.  But I found myself in one of my familiar holiday patterns.  Especially when they are low key like this one.  I had a general idea of how the weekend was going to go. Some things changed, but overall, the weekend was good.  I did find myself wishing I had more exciting plans.  Living in Richmond, VA, it felt like half the people I talked to on Friday were on their way to the Outer Banks.   I was still not feeling well, my husband was sick and my son was fighting off a cold. Not to mention, I had a lot of work to do.  So I was fine staying home most of Saturday. In fact, I enjoyed it. But then I got antsy.  I thought of holidays gone by with nostalgia and wished I was with family or friends having a cookout or camping or something.  Then I do something that never ends well.  I check Facebook and compare my insides to other's outsides.  Worse than just their outsides, there Facebook personas!  Never a good idea.  I just noticed I did this recently.  If I'm feeling bored, lonely, or whatever and check Facebook, I look at all the fun people are having.  I "like" all those pictures of parties and get togethers my "friends" are having and feel jealous of all the picturesque scenes of beaches, sunsets and mountains.

So what's wrong with a little "down time" at home?

I've never liked being home much. I thought it was just because I was an extrovert.  But now I think it's more than that.  Yes, I like feeling connected to people around me and I like outside stimulation, but I also have a difficult time switching gears.  In the past, I'd go, go, go until I was wiped out and then crash.  Life has a more moderate rhythm these days but when There is too much idle time, it feels uncomfortable.  Like when I worked from home, I could never just sit and do nothing, I felt the need to work.  Now I work outside the home and feel like if I'm home, I should be cleaning and taking care of the house.  Now, I'm not trying to change this impulse per se, but I am noticing that it's there.  I'm curious about it rather than jumping to conclusions.  What's this about?

When I make the shift from doing to being, it feels uncomfortable. It's a bumpy transition. I feel the need to fill my time, even my relaxation.  First I will meditate for this amount of time, then journal, then walk. And I'm the one who says I rebel against too much structure!  As I slow down, my mind gets more active. Like when I was pregnant, the baby hardly moved when I'd take a tap (dance) class but when I'd lay down at night to sleep, he was flip flopping all over the place.  And so it is with my mind and my feelings.  I need to be OK with being a little uncomfortable.  It helps to observe my feelings and ride the wave.  When I ride the wave, I can slide into a different rhythm with much more ease and harmony.

Happy Labor Day!

t

Friendship IS Good Medicine

I'm feeling a little down at the moment, so I decided to write to some dear friends of mine. It was just a quick email saying I was thinking of them & that I wouldn't be able to join them on a phone call.. Sending that email, I thought of their faces, their wisdom, and all the experiences we have had together, and just doing that made me smile to myself.

Nothing beats an understanding friend.

I am fortunate to have a lot of them.  They are scattered all over the country. And although I don't get to see them very often, when I do, it's like we saw each other just last week.  What feels so good is not just their understanding, but how they see me.  I can be my real, messy self with them and they still see all the good in me.  And that's important because I can't always do that.  I get stuck in all my shortcomings and can't see the forest through the trees.  Isn't that how the saying goes?

On the flip side, I get the opportunity to do the same for them.  And that feels good - opening my heart to be of use to someone else.  That is good medicine.  Can you tell I'm a Pisces?

One of the keys for me is recognizing who these people are in my life.  Of course, I don't have these kinds of relationships with everyone.  We all know people who would love to tell us how to live our life better and those that might just be a little bit happy if we fell on our faces.  Accepting them as they are and not expecting them to be any different can save a lot of heartache.  It's when I believe them that I run into trouble.

That is one of the cool things about getting older.  I have friends that I've known for over 20 years!  Even writing that blows my mind.  It makes me realize my age, but more than that it makes me happy.  I love following their journeys through the good times, the dark times, the funny times and the crazy times.  I have a lot of gratitude for this part of my life.

And this is emotional weight loss right?  When I'm feeling tackled by life, not living up to my full potential or overrun with other people's ideas about who I am - you know, the ones that aren't supposed to mean anything to me.  All I have to do is reach out to any one of them.  Sometimes I don't even have to mention what's going on.  I just need to connect. Maybe even laugh a little.  Somehow that sets me straight in a way nothing else can.

t

Only I can take past successes and use them against me.

I think one of the major mental blocks I have these days is measuring the success of my day by old standards. And it's totally unfair.  Let me clarify. Rewind, let's say, 12 years ago.  I had just moved to Washington, DC.  I only knew two people when I moved there for a job. I was single and lived by myself. I lived a pretty healthy lifestyle at that time and the only other living thing I had to take care of was my cat Thomas.. I had lost 150 pounds a few years before and I was settled into a routine that felt comfortable.  Before and after work, I had the freedom to spend my time as I wished.  I may have gone to a rehearsal if I was working on a show, taken a dance class, hit the gym, rested, read, meditated or spent time with friends.  I went on retreats and contemplated my navel. OK, maybe not my navel. But you get the picture.  I had more time for self reflection, art, and self care.  I am so grateful for that time. I grew up a lot. In some ways, I thought this was my new way of life.  I do that a lot. Whether I perceive something to be good or bad, I often believe this is the way it's always going to be.  But the joke's on me.

It never stays that way. Change is the one thing I can count on.  Fast forward 12 years. I'm back in Richmond, VA with my husband of almost 6 years and my 3 year old son. I have a dog and time by myself is a rarity.  Now I get to experience life as a wife and a mom as well as a woman, an artist and a seeker.  Anyone who knows me knows that I'm kind of a geek when it comes to my son.  I can't help it. When you experience such mind-blowingly big love, you can't help but be forever different.

But these days, I find myself doing a mental inventory of what didn't get done. I didn't exercise, i didn't journal, write down my food, call my friend back, meditate, read something of substance,  spend enough time with my family, paint my nails, or get enough rest. all the things I think a healthy person SHOULD do every day.  I'm using what I could do in my old life to judge myself harshly in this one.  And that stinks. Who wants to always come up short?

For years I have done a daily accounting of five things I am grateful for. This is a good practice for focusing my mind but I've also started an accounting of my successes.  Like today, I resurrected an old spiritual practice I was taught years ago. It may sound odd to some but just like others find centering with yoga or prayer and the like, I find taking Dead Sea salt in the shower & mindfully apply salt in a circular motion to each chakra (sacrum, belly, stomach, heart, throat, forehead & crown - although I don't topically apply it to my forehead or crown) is very centering.  I then lift my hands up above my head and say, "I release to the light anything in me or on me that no longer serves me".  And I visualize all the junk I hold onto - tasks, feelings, worries, resentments, anxieties and "shoulds" - traveling upward to an energy that can handle it far better than I can.  Of course, I have to laugh because half way through my private ritual I hear, "Mom! Mom! Where are you?  Can I have a drink?"

Well, it's not a pilgrimage to Mecca (or Sevenoaks), but it's one thing I can put on my list of successes for the day.  It's something  that I not only wanted to do, but something that I feel good about today.  And if I focus on the successes of my day, I'm much less likely to use my past (be it good or bad) against me.

t

Why is staying home when I'm sick so difficult?

Why is staying home when I am sick so difficult? I hardly ever do it.  My mom kept me home when I didn't feel well as a kid. So, why do I make such a big deal out of it? Where did I acquire the voice that tells me it's wrong. The one that says, "Your not really that sick. Suck it up! Push through it." And the truth is, I could "push through it" I usually do. But does that mean I should? Just because I can? Why does the 6 year old in me feel like I'm going to get in trouble or that coworkers won't believe me?  I have such a hard time making these kinds of decisions. But if my 4 year old son was in the same position in 35 years, I'd tell him to stay home and rest. No long deliberation or inner turmoil. No moral dilemma.  That is what you tell someone you love.

So I am starting to treat myself like someone I love. And what is the first thing I feel - guilt. I feel guilty for sending my child to daycare so I can rest. I feel bad for leaving my coworkers short staffed. I feel stressed about the cut in pay I will take by not going in. But I'm doing it anyway. Maybe it's an experiment into a new way of thinking.  Well, new to me (again).  Maybe I push thru cause I want to be seen a certain way. A dedicated worker, a good mom, a strong woman. But if an enlightened master looked at me, they would probably see a foolish child. Not at all the persona I was going for.

So I sit and let my body rest today and observe my thoughts. I don't have to believe them either. And for at least one day, I can shift my habitual way of thinking and acting to open some new neuropathways. God knows I could use some!  Doing something new is often a little uncomfortable but I think this is one that is worth doing. And I can rest in knowing that I did the right thing for me today.

t