Negativity as a teacher. A return to Optimism.

I wrote this last summer a few months after my hip replacement surgery.  It was a great exercise then and a good review now.  Somehow in the midst of the negativity a lesson was learned that opened the door to gratitude again. Through it all,  I discovered how much power I have- granted by the grace of God.  We are responsible for our own happiness, NO MATTER THE CIRCUMSTANCES.  I'm reposting because I need the reminder:  All is well, and will be well, as I head into a scary cervical spine surgery in three weeks.  Three surgeries in three years - I should play the lottery.  Lucky number 3.  Third time is a charm they say.  I am ready to be charmed and I know, this time, Optimism is my best  pre-surgery medicine. 

July 4, 2015 - I was cleared by the doctor yesterday to drive, walk, swim, and bike.  Now, you would think I would be overjoyed to be able to do those things. It was still only mid-summer. These last seven weeks have been a real challenge, especially taking my wheels away. I also wasn’t prepared at all for the emotional roller coaster ride brought on by pain, medication, surgery, isolation, and immobility.  I felt like a child, helpless and dependent on the schedules and whims of other people.   My social life, cheering squad, and shopping needs were in their control. It felt like my emotional well-being was too.   I don’t do well being dependent or asking for help.  I've been self-sufficient for the greater part of my life.  It seemed when I did reach out, my surgically/pharmaceuticaly  induced mood swings and depression was something no one wanted to deal with and I felt that terrible sting of rejection.  Abandoned, once again. Shouldn’t family and friends accept me as I was - mood swings, negativity and all?  They hadn’t just had their hip socket sawed off and a metal rod jammed down into their femur. They’d be cranky too, I thought.  

For a few moments there, instead of squealing in delight because I could drive,  I sat with my doctor and a long list, questioning him on when I could do Yoga, hit the nautilus at the gym, go back to spin class, and travel.  “Not for six months,” he replied.  He had just shown my an Xray of my perfect new hip - the one that was giving me back my ability to live my life as fully as the average baby boomer and it wasn’t enough?  Maybe I needed to relearn that art of gratitude.  I am normally a grateful person by nature so my “not enough” thinking quickly turned to jubilation as I strode to my daughter’s car and proclaimed a  celebration in order.  After she dropped me off from a cane-free walk around a store and lunch, I backed my car out of my driveway just to make sure it would start, and my new bionic gam could control the pedals.  Freedom!   I felt like a prisoner who had served the time and was sprung from a long sentence.  The sky was a little bluer, the world a lot more glorious. The air was fresh, unlike the canned air-conditioned prison laced with the smell of my isolation and, for awhile there, a limited amount of caring about appearances or hygiene on my part.  With every mile I drove, Optimism, once again, rushed through my veins.

 It appeared the road to Optimism could be found by taking the Gratitude trail. 

But, boy was it earned on a long, often lonely road.  There is something about being cooped up for an extended period of time.  I don’t care how optimistic and grateful you think you are, every little character defect (yours and others), every insecurity, every still unhealed part of you is going to show up to keep you company in the still  of your healing journey.  My traveling insecurities would come and go uninvited, sometimes just paying a short visit and other times they would arrive with the steamer trunk, packed up for a world cruise. My head had a difficult time changing course and heading towards Port Optimism. Under normal circumstances, at this juncture of my life, through trial and error, I have learned what tools to use to turn my thinking into something constructive and optimistic.  Nature works well, however, I couldn’t sit outside for a few weeks and the weeks when I could, it rained constantly.  Meditation has been my best friend for a number of years now, but those little minions in my head would rattle cages I hadn’t opened up in years and it took all my strength to keep them locked out. Reading a book was difficult - pain medication and concentration don't make good bedfellows.  I granny walked my way to the computer, pushing my metal walker with the homeless lady bag on the front, and spent hours creating my own little motivational screen-savers to reinforce all the good in my life. I practically wallpapered my phone and computer with them.  The one on this blog post was designed on a particularly sarcastic and anger infused day.  I might be an unpleasant grouch, but at least I would be authentic and embrace my grouchhood.  I think that’s when my 2016 word of the year began to take shape. Authentically a Scrooge.  I prayed to be happy, and then decided no one could possibly be happy considering my situation, so I prayed for peace, at least.   A little voice in my head reminded me, if I wanted long-term peace, maybe I should do a little work and the questions I should ask might go like this.  

What is your anger and pique trying to teach you?  What are the lessons that you will take from this experience?   

Here goes:

I was put out that I had to essentially take care of myself.  After all, I had taken care of just about everyone else in my life  and it was my turn, for a change.  I was a good human being.  A good friend. A caring soul.  As if all my goodness could be saved for a rainy day and God would grant me help because my giving ledger was full.  Wasn’t that an expectation and wasn’t it also ragingly codependent?

I was angry at myself for not taking better care of my health through the years, not making my own well-being a priority and guarding it like I had for others I loved. I had been the one that hadn’t gone to doctor when I needed to, worked long hours, and put others needs before my own.  What could I do about it now?  Absolutely nothing. Again, codependent as hell and martyrdom in its stinkiest  glory.

I was angry for expecting people who simply aren’t capable of support and thinking somehow, magically, it would be different this time.  When would I learn that some people are not dependable? Some people can barely take care of themselves.  I was really angry that I had forgotten, when people show you who they are, believe them.  However, it was a beginning in seeing that I have the power, to choose who I lean on, pick to share my secrets, and those that have the capacity to be there in unconditional love. 

Most of all, near the end of my drive through hip replacement ordeal, I was angry with myself for giving me so little credit.  I wasn’t the helpless victim.  Who better to take care of me and know what I need, but me?  Sure some things were a physical challenge during the healing process, but somehow, somewhere, the strength arrived to get done what I needed to do. 

Finally, shouldn't I have been focusing on those beautiful souls that did help me through a tough time and made sacrifices to see me through it?  Optimism might return if that's what I chose to see.  

I looked back over the course of my life.  It has been peppered with more challenges than most people can even imagine. But the real biography of my life - overcoming, diligence, faith and courage, and the right people,  always showed up when needed.  

Time spent in suffering and solitude guided me to  recognize as the Apostle Paul said, “For when I am weak, I am strong.”  

A teeny bit of negativity never hurt anyone. At least not me. It forced me to examine what was behind it. Being weak showed me how capable I was of taking care of me.  Through the crazy thinking, anger, and loneliness, there stood God guiding me through it all, making me stronger as I drew closer to Him. 

 Another obstacle  traversed on the journey to RENEW, my Word of the Year for 2015. http://examiningmyunexaminedlife.blogspot.com/2015/01/word-of-year-2015-renew.html   I am convinced, there is power in this practice.

RENEW - that was my wish, tossed out to the Universe.  It’s beginning to look like the message was received.  For starters, a new hip - RENEW: make like new.  I can feel a quickening in the pit of my stomach.  Life awaits. It’s  time to  be my own fairy godmother and head on off to the ball. I’m not looking for Prince Charming or someone to rescue me.  I wouldn't miss it for the world. I’m going  because I love to dance. 

Self- Forgiveness - Part Two - A letter from my Higher Self (an exercise suggested by a recent meditation session)

This morning I languished in the empty space luxuriating between sleep and lucidity. This sweet spot is my favorite time of the day, caught up in the deliciousness of a quiet, empty, mind and the kind of peace that feels soft and silky like the trim on a baby’s blanket. What better place to open the day with a little prayer.  Gratitude softly rises as a natural expression when I am in this state.  I stretched.  I smiled.  I ticked off a few of my many blessings....another day of life, recovery, family, friends, having just enough, and,   the daily expressions of God’s love for me (when I stay alert and teachable). 

 I suspect God appreciated that I finally seemed to notice all this after a summer of what felt like a Spiritual Tough Mudder competition.  Me, feeling prepared after exercising and developing what I thought were some pretty big spiritual muscles over the past few years.  So, it was a big surprise to feel trapped, weak and helpless: the underground drainage pipe filling up with some stinky luck, and blockage as everyone else (apparently spiritually fitter and more deserving) seemed to charge right by me. There were many things that just weren’t easy.  It was solitary, and clearly out of my control and I surmised it was time to work on bigger, maybe steroid enhanced muscles, of long-term patience, surrender, acceptance, faith, and courage. I thought I was failing miserably at even my amped up workouts. I needed much bigger guns than I apparently had.   I did recognize a good part of my depression was my own head chastising me for a million things that I thought should be happening and weren’t.  I was either just unworthy, or being karmically punished for every mistake I’ve made in my life - since birth. Joan of Arc and I had a lot in common- in my distorted mind.  Only I was hardly a saint, just a self-professed martyr. 

This creepy, prophesy fulfilling self-talk, revealed I still had one huge forgiveness opportunity festering away waiting for me to put to rest. Of course someone had to be blamed, so I picked me.  I knew my slate was clean with everyone else I'd had a resentment towards for real or imagined harm done.  But, I didn’t really have a clue how to forgive me, or exactly what I needed to forgive me for. If I chastised myself, wasn’t that okay and way of keeping me accountable?  In a blinding flash of clarity, the thought drifted into my head, “Would you use such negativity on your loved ones to hold them accountable?” The answer of course was no.  I wouldn’t dream of demeaning my beloveds thinking that would produce the empowerment and acceptance that comes from good self-esteem.  Furthermore, don’t I believe resentment blocks peace of mind, clarity and abundance?  So, why wouldn’t  holding a resentment towards myself be part of the problem recently?  I clearly needed to forgive myself... for everything. 

The question was, “How can I do that?”  The Universe answered. The same way I have forgiven everyone else I needed to forgive in my life.  By  putting myself in God’s immeasurably large shoes and looking through His eyes at the person I needed to forgive.  This time it was me.  

So, this was the morning...  He must have sensed my peace and comfort and thought it a good time to remind me of my commitment to work with Him on a forgiveness letter, written in my hand, from His compassionate heart.  He suggested we do this and pay no attention to the crazy blonde lady who often party-crashes inside my head.  

This is what We wrote:

My beautiful child,

I hear your words and they cut like a Samurai’s sword.  Oh, the evil things you say about my creation.... YOU.  Life is not about your mistakes, failings, and poor choices.  Life is about experiencing, learning, growing and moving through the good, the bad and the devastating.  I see that it is often in the pitchiest blackness, you’ve turned to Me and learned to trust my guidance and voice.  Why do you question that it is My voice?   I’ve seen you flourish with little light, and grow beyond your perceptions of your limitations.  It’s time now, to walk into the Light and see that for yourself.  No human being enters into this material world all knowing.  I placed you into this classroom to learn, grow and recognize your true spiritual nature.  I gave you Life and experiences to be your teacher.  I signed My name in blood on your life contract so that YOU would never know the suffering of unforgiveness. You learned the importance of forgiving  others, but you diminish MY gift to you? Do you realize, when you do that, you block the power I give you to live in abundance, peace, and joy.   You must recognize, my love, when you know better, you do better.  Your self-talk is so vicious about many of your life choices.  My precious one, don’t you see, it has been your choices that have helped you to grow and evolve into your spiritual skin?  The choices you have made, while you may see them as negative, have cultivated your intuition, compassion, loving spirit, and many other spiritual gifts that I placed in you.  How would you know what sacred love looks like without seeing what it isn’t?  Look to Me. I have shown you the kind of love you have craved, so you can NOW pick people that respect and honor you as I do.   I see you focus so often on your perception of what you haven’t achieved.  Why do you not celebrate all you have achieved?  I do.  Everyday I give you breath, I celebrate a woman who has overcome many obstacles and turned her life into one of hope, possibility, tenacity,  authenticating My work by being who she is, the woman I created -- In big, bold, cursive writing for the world to see.  I see a woman who is honest, strong, loving, capable, kind, generous and deserving of all that she already offers to others.  I see a woman whose needs, desires, hopes and dreams have a right to be acknowledged.  You just have to speak up, my dear, and claim them.  I see a woman who yes, has sometimes fallen, but always picks herself back up, wiser and more compassionate to the human condition. Let Me help you put away the pommeling stick.  It doesn’t honor either one of us for you to continue to reject My perfect Grace.  I forgave you for every sin before your sins were even manifested.  Today, I am asking you to forgive yourself and remove this Samurai sword which continues to break My heart.   Today I am asking you to take My hand and the two of us will wipe your slate clean.  Can I hear you say... I forgive, I am forgiven, I forgive myself?  I love you. 

Thank you,
Your Greatest Fan (aka God)

Who runs the world? GIRLS!

I got to spend an evening with a roomful of beautiful ladies this week, about 225 of them; all ages, shapes, and sizes!  Our local Health System’s foundation, held a fundraiser for woman’s health in support of breast cancer awareness month. With a name like Diva’s and Darlings, I knew it was bound to be fun!  The theme was Mardi-Gras and many of these lovely ladies donned bejeweled masks, dressy attire, and costumes.  It was a perfect girly night on the town, with live auction, silent auction, purse raffle, diamond and chocolate games of chance, and a spectacular spread of Creole style food.  Even the appetizers screamed New Orleans: tiny langostinos, and a huge shrimp bowl continuously filled by men in crisp, white chef coats.   The entertainment was an itsy, bitsy, little firebrand of a lady; a humorist, motivational speaker and breast cancer survivor, too. This little women, who exuded some powerful joy, was there to teach us something.  In a nutshell her message was:  the greatest expression of gratitude for life, is to love oneself.   With a funny, relatable, authentic, and self-deprecating humor she brought many of us to tears of hilarity as well as empathy.  Her narration all lead back to this single hope; that woman everywhere learn to accept and love themselves as they were created!   Her belief is- -  it is in acknowledging and accepting our individual uniqueness, perceived flaws and all, therein, lies a woman’s true source of real power.   

I gave some thought afterwards to that philosophy.   I didn’t do the exercises she suggested, like getting naked and checking it all out in the mirror.  It was too chilly this week!  A good excuse.  But, I did ask myself, “Self, does your behavior now reflect a woman who loves herself?”  It surely didn’t for so many years, and the saddest part was I didn’t even realize it.  

I haven’t always felt powerful as a woman and in reality my love of my womanhood has just come around in the last few decades.  I viewed men as overpowering forces of nature that would always come out on top (no pun intended).  Professionally, and as heads of households... and just because they were male, it seemed inevitable they would always exercise so much control over my life. Maybe they did because I didn’t feel confident enough to grab hold of my own choices and decisions and handed it  all over instead.   I just didn’t realize then, I could do much about it.   They seemed to hold the key to my security, survival.... and happiness.  Some of my female mentors and role models were successful females; doctors, lawyers, and CEO’s of companies, self-confident, attractive, intelligent, and financially secure.  But, they stayed in horrible relationships with men who were serial cheaters, lazy, abused, or controlled them.  Why did they continue to forgive or even stay with them?  They weren’t financially dependant on them.  They had the education, tenacity, and resumes to support themselves. They were good looking woman; attractive to other men.  Why would they choose a lifestyle of power in the Board Room, but powerlessness over their personal relationships and happiness.  Why didn't they believe they deserved to be respected and treated well in their own homes?   Those were the examples I honed in on in my younger years, and it just helped to reinforce what I thought.  Men ruled the world, especially the private, personal ones of most women. 

Things started to change for me in my early 40’s when I began to uncover my worth and discovered it did not revolve around the opinions of others, including men.  I loved me.  Amazingly, I then attracted a man who deemed me worthy as well, and loved me for my many  newly discovered assets, but also my insecurities and flaws.  He accepted my sarcasm,  my humor, my little pillow tummy, my obsession with make-up and stilettos,  my fears, my workaholism and my propensity to dissect and intellectualize EVERYTHING!   A few years after his death, I began to attract the same type of men from my younger years.  What happened?   I slipped into the old mode and  decided I wasn’t worthy of the kind of  love that supported my desires, dreams, and boundaries. I was ruled by fear once again and  I placed more importance on becoming what others (men) wanted or needed than what I needed. Fear!  What if I was wrong, really not good enough, couldn't take care of myself,  and what about this being alone?   A total betrayal of the essence of me,  I cast this lovable woman aside along with her boundaries and power.  

There was a popular commercial for a perfume in the 80’s. The theme song, touted, “ I’m a woman...I can bring home the bacon.  Fry it up in a pan.  And, never, ever let you forget you’re a man.  Why in the world would that be considered an asset and a priority? How about a perfume for remembering,  you are woman;  powerful and gentle, a contradiction; authentic and enough? Not just any woman, but a phenomenal woman!   We give life, nurture, learn, think, achieve, accomplish, create. We are deserving and perfect, without breasts, 50 pounds heavier than we think we should be, without a man, or an impressive resume, or a big bank account.  Until we begin to believe that, we contribute to the shriveling of all women. We hand over bits of our power where it could be used to actually change the world.       

Photo Courtesy of the Phenomenal Woman who
owns Angela Owens Photography

As I looked around the room at all of these gorgeous females, I could feel this movement of energy, bursting at the seams, ready to be expressed just as soon as everyone, in unison, could say, "I love this woman that I am.  I am unique. I am  powerful.  Hear me roar. Watch out world.  I am the change I want to see, and I am going to carve my own path of recognition, acceptance, and wisdom, for my daughters and yours." 

It all boils down to this little thing called, self-love.  A woman can do it all, achieve it all, have it all and still find she doesn’t love herself.... not at all.   Until we can, we remain truly powerless and what a waste of purpose and talent that is.  My goal,  (this week at least) is rediscover those traits that make me authentically me... lovable, unique, unorthodox, flaky, and unconventional... especially unconventional.  I am committed to gathering all those parts of me,  up in my arms, for a great big love-fest.  

Oh, and, sigh... I’ll do as I was told.... get naked and lay the loving affirmations on that image too!    Honestly, that will be a  bit of challenge.  I’ll do it, until I start to believe it.   Maybe a good beginning is take a look at the beautiful eyes that enable me to see so much beauty in women everywhere.