And I realized just yesterday how people can break your heart just by staying who they are.- Hannah Brencher

“I think you need to examine if you are in love with him, or the with the idea of him.”  A quote from my therapist, and I honestly admit, it was a head scratcher for me.  What in the world was he talking about? Of course I was in love with HIM!   How could you be in love with an idea?  Knowing me and my propensity for taking the simplest thoughts, and turning them into complex mental gyrations, he added, “If you don’t understand what I mean, call me later.”  Need I tell you, I had to call him?  He said, “What do you love about him?”  As I began to recite these things that he had shared, our conversations about what made him tick, things he liked to do, things he claimed to love and believe in, the good doctor posed this question,  “How long are you going to wait to  witness these things firsthand?  Have you seen him with his family to know he loves them dearly?”  Has he taken you on a trip, and have you experienced his love of exploration?”  “Have you socialized with others and does he interact with them like you’ve heard him say?  Does he do those fun things with you he talks so much about?”   A light went on.  It was a 9 volt night light bulb, but it was a start.   Years later, looking back over the relationship (and so many others), the common interests, beliefs, and values I thought were mutual, I really had no idea if it was a fact, because I kept hanging on, waiting for them to live up to my idea of who I thought they MIGHT/COULD be.  Always waiting.... for the right moments, when the Moon was full, and Jupiter would align itself with Saturn, and unicorns would then magically appear out of the forest and dance in my back yard.  All the potential I saw, my perfect future, did not come to pass. They were perfectly happy.... being who they were.  I was crushed to discover that my imagination led me into thinking they actually were interested in performing up to MY idea of potential.   I am learning how to not break my own heart anymore because of delusions of could be’s, if only’s, and when. 

I wish I had a dollar for every friendship, love relationship, job, and residence I stayed in hoping it/they would change and evolve into what I viewed as its full realm of possibility.   Frankly, I believe I’ve lived just about my whole life in that manner. A dreamer, and the classic eternal optimist, I try to find the silver lining in people and situations in life.  While a job just might be “right up my alley” and in an area I excel (as so many friends have reinforced from time to time in my professional journey) that does not necessarily mean the powers that be, are of the same mindset, have the funding, or want anything to change in their organization to avail themselves of MY full potential.  Too often, I have hung in there far longer than is conducive to my pocketbook and serenity, watching brain cells die by the dozens, and hoping for the break when employers see how much untapped potential is just waiting to evolve.

I’ve made the decision not to do this anymore.  There is something to be said for hanging tough in some situations, or recognizing, sometimes, things (growth/advancement/progress) take time.  But, when there is more than one person (me) involved in the process of change, there are situations, whereby to hang in there is simply a recipe for lost years, and broken hearts. When the reality doesn't align with the vision, over and over again, it's time.

I had the opportunity to pay it forward and say the same thing to someone very dear to me recently. “Do you love her, or do you love the idea of her?”    He too was grappling with the disconnect between his delusion of qualities in his mate and the actual behavior. He too was heartbroken, that he could see all this potential for a perfect future with her.  If only.... she would be different.  It was crushing to see him struggle so. Yet, gratifying in a selfish way, to be able to finally see so clearly in another human being, something I have struggled with most of my life.  I was not alone, and I think I have finally after so many years, learned the lesson.  I saw with 20/20 clarity how dysfunctional it was.  I saw how dishonorable it was too.    I don’t know if it’s completely true, love is blind, but it is certainly delusionaly hopeful to a fault at times. I wonder how much of our lives we spend trapped in the waiting room, rather than getting on with it...  seeing potential, rather than reality.  

Why do we do it?  What is the motivator? Control.  Fear.  Laziness.  Ego.  God complex.  Maybe on some level its safe to hide behind others inability to give us what we deserve or need.  We don’t have to do anything then; except blame. Who are we to say what someone’s potential is? Why do we think we have the power to guide others onto our path of perceived authenticity.  Even if we think our vision of their potential, is honest, and honorable, why do we think their progress or growth must be in our timetable?  We simply make ourselves miserable when we look at the potential of something outside of ourselves.  

There is nothing wrong with seeing the reality of the disconnect between what we have, and what WE need, and making the changes WE need to move forward into our joy filled, purposeful, loving life.  We don’t need to get our heart broken because people, jobs, or situations don’t suit our needs.  We can make changes.... sooner.   Life is precious and we have enough to deal with navigating our own journey.  We don't need to  stay trapped inside a broken heart because life is not performing up to our expectations. We don't need to wait for other people or circumstances to change.  It is more honorable to say,"This is not aligned with my vision for my life", than to burrow into resentment and heartbreak.  

So, I shared my story with my beloved conflicted friend;  the many heartbreaks of staying stuck waiting for the arrival of all the potential I saw. In jobs, with friends, with men.  That’s the kind of heartbreak that plucks at the juiciness and wonder of life and takes God and his plan out of the equation.  

Sometimes facing reality is the biggest catalyst to moving us towards our dreams come true.  

Fourteen Years Later............

I  bought this wonderful new book called Ten Years Later.  It was written by Hoda Kotb, an NBC morning show host and I knew it would be inspirational when I saw her interviewed.  In her battle with breast cancer a few years ago she has her own stories of tenacity, survival and coming out the other side, renewed.   This time of year, I seem to need an extra dose of nurturing and encouragement and sensed this might be the boost I needed.    Maybe I do suffer from some moderate seasonal affective disorder too; my good friends have been telling me that for years.  I don’t care for the cold, drearier days and winter weather.  I’m a fair weather girl and love warm air and sunshine tickling and  toasting my skin, bare feet all snuggled into silky, sand beaches.  To live like that at least part of the year, is a bucket list item yet to be checked off.   Yet, intuitively, I know what it is: this wave of exhaustion and sadness that happens this time, every year.    Quite simply, when you lose people you love on the deepest soul level, those losses remain seared on your heart never to be forgotten completely. After all this time, I might get up on “that morning” and forget it’s “that day” for a few hours, but my spirit always weeps silent tears.  The enormity of this loss invades my subconscious. Quite simply, I miss him.  Fourteen years later. 

Yet, Hoda’s book triggered some positive reflection for me too.  So much has happened in fourteen years; much of it full of really joyful events, a few bucket list items checked off, the experience of love again, and some authentic serenity unlike I have ever known.  A little healthy  pride has arrived too as I humbly reflect and recognize I’ve become more courageous, capable, and rather independent.  That makes me smile.  I think it would him too.   I reflected back on all of this in awe.  Mostly because I remember, a week before his death, a social worker hugged me and said, "I promise you it will not always hurt this badly. Your life will be different, yes.  But it will be good again."  Reciprocating her hug, and forcing a smile on my tear-streaked face, the voice in my head said, "You clueless bitch... you have no idea."  Even though the words were never spoken, I owe her a telepathic apology.  I think the best way to do that is to be available to others who need to hear those words, even when they don't think they do.  Just like me..... And share my own experience, strength and hope.  

The necessity (and what I now recognize as the gift) of a healing process; something I reluctantly entered into kicking and screaming because it hurt just too damn much, evolved in its own perfect time.   The ethereal spark that lives somewhere within all of us, began to thirst for joy again and forced me to look inward for not only survival, but growth, and nourishment.  Amazing.   Fourteen years ago, this life, my life,  I was convinced at best, I would limp through half-heartedly.  The other half of my heart seemed too irreparably shattered.  Yet, this new life, while different, is brimming with blessings.  I wouldn’t have believed I would feel blessed again, especially  if you had told me at year five of my grief process.  Or, again around year ten, but, my life, as are  ALL lives, is a journey. I have come to accept and even welcome that thought, especially since his death. Change. Grow. Regress. Grieve. Celebrate. Love. Heartbreak. Love some more.  Over and over again.  My life, even without him, has truly been an evolution, ultimately leading  me to a sense of purpose, authenticity, and so much gratitude.  Leading me HOME to my true HOME.  I know where I come from, where I  belong, and where I will someday, wind up.  

 Fourteen years later, lots of change, and many obstacles as well.  Most of them, I castigated  the poor deceased man that drenched me in more love than I’d ever felt in my life.  How dare he leave me with all these responsibilities, a quarter of our income, and no real help on the horizon?  Every broken appliance, vehicle, and arrow to my heart, I blamed on his departure. He died and left me: abandoned  as so many others had before him- since my early childhood.   It was all his fault when bills piled up, medical issues brought me to my knees,  the flimsy white wooden shingles  began to age off the side of the house, and every new worry etched a wrinkle in my once smooth face.  And, moving from a size 4 to a size 10? Well of course, he was responsible for that too!  

Fourteen years later I recognize,  all along, he has loved me from afar.  He's always sent the perfect opportunities, people, lovers, heart breakers, and most of all angels to guide me along the right path... for me.  A road that will ultimately lead me, someday, into welcoming arms.  I know he'll greet me and lead me by the hand to my Creator.  We'll stand side by side in front the of big screen replaying all those scenes from my life.  As it's all playing out, dramatic.... Hollywood movie style,  I’m sure he’ll bop me gently on the head, and say, “See, when you believed we were ignoring your request for what you thought you wanted, and what you thought was best for you, we were protecting you.”  Now, can I go play some golf, please?”  

We have such limited vision in those times of the darkness of our soul and are often unable to view our sojourn in big picture fashion.  The best we can do, is simply keep moving.  Keep moving and believing that there IS a larger purpose and it is all meaningfully developing. Our role is to simply ultimately trust in that, as we piece it all together. Sometimes we randomly try to shove disparate pieces where they don't belong, but that's okay.   We do the best we know how with the knowledge and the tools we have available to us at the time.  

My gift under my pillow

I know he’s still  with me.  All I need to do is close my eyes.   I dreamed about him the other night.  He radiated this soft  glow....  like the light I saw reflected in his eyes every time he looked at me in life... gentle, full of pride and pure love. Of all the wonderful gifts he gave me and brought into our relationship, that look is my most treasured and precious. 

This morning I was changing the sheets on my bed. I discovered I don’t need to close my eyes to touch in with him.   In fact if I want to connect with him, I ought  to keep them wide open and pay attention.  Lying tucked underneath the mound of pillows I snuggle into every night was a tiny white paper heart.  It appeared the love fairy left an offering. 

Or wait.... was it left over from some Christmas wrapping over the holidays?  I think not. I’ve changed those sheets since then.  

I think, fourteen years later, he's reminding me of  the pure unconditional love I’ve been privileged to feel.  Most of all I know he wants me to know, I will always be in HIS heart too.    

I AM able to deal with the trials and tribulations, and even the occasional Squirrels in the Attic, just fine, on my own.   A heavenly host has got my back, led by one phenomenal man who I was privileged to have in my life for not nearly long enough.  

January 30, 1999. Carpe Diem My Love.  I celebrate you.... and me, and the  anniversary of your homecoming. Fore!  Play Golf.... If you could check in occasionally, I would be most grateful. See you someday.... until then,  hugs and kisses from below.  

XoXo

My Word of the Year for 2013

Fearless.........

Merriam Webster defines fearless as --- bold, brave, dauntless, intrepid, and courageous.  This is my word for 2013.  The last few years  I've gotten rid of the long list of resolutions and searched inward instead, spending some time in reflection, prayer, and meditation to find the right word for the new year. A special mantra of sorts.   A word to focus on throughout the year.  One that will help me in my journey to continue to unearth the best me, and reveal the contributions I was put on this earth to make. Last year, my word was Freedom. It served me well.  At first, I attached all these expectations to my 2012 word.... Free from my rut, free from “this place”; this house, this city, boredom.... It was all going to happen for me in 2012.  I thought my word failed me.  Here I was, stuck in  some mind-numbing sameness.  I was sure it would turn me into a vegetable.   Then, near the end of the year a series of emotional setbacks, sickness, and a few evil deeds called upon my emotional IQ, and forced me to rethink how well last year’s word really worked for me.  Did it ever!  Freedom arrived over the course of the year in more powerful ways than I ever anticipated.  I am free.  More than I've ever been.  Especially from my past and many negative beliefs that kept me stuck for so long.  I was able to recognize them (first) and then release them as useless tools for living.  I’ve been unshackled from my own perceived limitations and fears... of failing, of being rejected, of being hurt, of being alone, of destitution, and any other Armageddon my mind has used in its attempts to annihilate what it perceived to be an "uppityness" of my own confidence and self-worth through the years.   I finally stared down that lifetime of lies and found them to be  not quite so scary when held up to this Holy Light, I discovered within.  Freedom.  Unearthing all of this has been quite a process too, aided and abetted by a number of angels that I now know have been watching out for me, all along. (Forgive me, my beloveds for thinking otherwise)  Those stories I told myself....blatant untruths.  I am none of those things.  I am not limited. And, I am never, ever, alone.. ever.   Now, I AM free.  Free to live my own choices, create my own destiny.  Free to stay, or free to go.  Free to forgive and experience joy, or free to stay stuck in the past and ruminate myself into misery. Now, it appeared, all I needed was some courage and faith. 

Fearless.  

My word for 2013 arrived through some serious meditation, prayer, mindfulness, and  series of serendipities... messages through others, dreams, and other forms of communication that appeared out of nowhere. That’s the way it always seems to happen for me, sealing the word with plenty of blatant signs. The word fearless appeared everywhere. 

Someone dear to me, made a good argument that the presence of a little fear in our lives can also be prudent.  An intuitive built in protection so we don’t walk right into dangerous situations that can be harmful to our being.  That is not the kind of FEARLESSNESS I am referring to.  If I survived the year, by its end, my epitaph might read, FOOLISH instead.   I am talking about the kind of fearlessness that fuels us in fighting for the things we believe strongly in. Fearless in the ability to walk away from dysfunction even when you love someone.  Fearless in showing others who you really are.   Fearless in making changes you know need to be made, letting go and trusting the future is in the hands of our Creator.   Fearless in admitting you can’t do it anymore, and you certainly can’t do it on your own.  Fearless in pursuing the unknown, simply for pleasure of growing and learning something new.   Fearlessly falling in love again, cutting everyone some slack, focusing less on the fact you could be hurt, knowing love truly is still worth it, over and over again.   Most of all, living spiritually fearless, following a path that leads deeper and deeper into the heart of God, unlimited abundance, and joy.   It’s so much easier to be fearless when you have that much faith.  

     

Just to seal my intention after the first of year, the Universe sent me another indicator I was on the right track.  I got an Amazon book suggestion for a book written by Anita Moorjani a young women who was considered by medical professionals to be on her death bed with end stage cancer.  Her book, Dying to Be Me,  details her personal near death experience after she came out of her coma, completely cured and ready to fearlessly tell her story.  When asked what the most powerful message was she learned “on the other side” she said,(paraphrased) “Live life fearlessly... Most of all enjoy life. Most of us live in fear; a combination of fear and lack of self-love and so our lives are spent without enjoyment.  The best lesson is do what brings you joy and do what feels fun for you.  Be yourself. Allow yourself to be who you are.  Get in touch with your feelings.  Most of us are so caught up in doing...  these swirling thoughts of how do I get there from here and all those steps involved.  Instead, ask yourself, every day of your life, with all that arises, how do I feel about this? Don’t ask,  how do I do this, or what steps do I need to take to get there.  Ask, how do I feel?  Let the natural expression of you come through.  Is the answer positive or negative?  If there are more negatives than positives, then you are not following your true heart, being yourself and living fearlessly." 

It’s just that simple.  Fearless in 2013! 

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.  

Small change, small wonders-- these are the currency of endurance and ultimately of my life. It’s a workable economy- Barbara Kingsolver

A recent blog post on Positively Positive invited me to come up with a birthday bucket list.  First, Happy Birthday to Me!  I’m immensely grateful when my birthdays arrive.  I don’t have a problem with getting older.  I feel blessed to increase the number of my years on this earth.  I’ve already lived to be 8 years older than my mom was when she died, and 20 years longer than my husband!    The temptation is there sometimes to wallow in a bit of survivor’s guilt, pine away about all they could have/would have enjoyed had they lived.... Like grand babies, retirement, and years of tender love and attention, but I don’t have the time to act martyr like or feel guilty about much of anything anymore.  Guilt free...one of the blessings of learning and practicing being kind is more important than being right, doing the next right thing is lots easier than manipulating truth, and applying the Golden Rule as much as possible.  The reward is,  I don’t have anything to feel guilty about!  Besides, my mom and husband were fine examples of living their bucket lists, fully.

It’s a good thing for me to glance back briefly and reflect on the changes that can happen in just one year.  I'm always amazed.  I’ve done that again this year.  As wide open as I am these days about so much of my life,  some of those changes feel real personal and private, and I intend to hold them close to my heart, at least for awhile. Initially, upon investigation, it didn't appear there were many, but further reflection reinforced the truth.   I recognized the movements forward this past year or so (and it’s all been in that direction whether I recognized it immediately or not) were incremental, cumulative, rather than big gang-buster, fireworks stuff; the kind of events I've always measured a banner year by.   Like traveling to foreign lands, climbing mountains, jumping out of planes, hopping on Prince Charming’s white horse, hitting a jackpot, or achieving a little fame.   It seems I've always measured my progress and the quality of excitement in my life by all of that BIG stuff.  Or BIG dramas and changes.  Like the year I was downsized from a 17 year career, saw my daughter graduate from College AND get married within months... and lost my husband.  My nest was not only empty, my tree was stripped bare and the nest got knocked to the ground to be stomped on by squirrels.  That was a dramatic year.  Maybe when you've lived a life of major flux, which appears to be the majority of my story, it’s hard to recognize you’re still evolving unless you're in state of constant euphoria or chaos.   

I guess, that in itself is a change for me!  My measuring stick is a pocket ruler now rather than a yardstick.  I've begun to learn about accepting baby steps as progress, most recently in my attempts to drop the 20 pounds I have been trying to shake for the past 6-7 years.  I finally joined Weight Watchers, and unlike times in the past when I wanted to drop a few pounds and it rapidly melted off, the scales now, while reflecting a decline almost every single week, has drifted down in the teensiest of movement - 1/2 pound here, 1/4 of a pound there. Nonetheless, it's predominately been on the decline, ounce by ounce.  I am getting smaller.  Incrementally, over a course of time, it adds up to some big accomplishment. 

So, this year, rather than paste up a dream board that looks like a season from the Great Race, or design a bucket list from the perspective of a starry eyed 20 year old with few life experiences, I’ve kept it simpler.  This has nothing to do with the fire that still burns in my spirit, the spot where my dreams reside, or lowering my standards.  This is a simple recognition, that sometimes, it's the baby steps that get us there, and they do add up. That consistent acceptance and acknowledgement that there is an order to things and it's all good, even if it feels a little boring, like a hot, lazy, summer.   These are some of things I would like to shoot for in this next birth year. They're  just on the list... I'm not a failure if I find myself with an unchecked bucket list item, next year. 

Ready...stepping out there, leisurely and gently... 

• Reteach myself French so I can whisper beautiful sentiments to those I love, including myself.  
• Downsize.  My Bucket List. My belongings.  My lifestyle.  My expectations; especially of others.
• Stir up those creative juices... tune up the sewing machine.  Have my friends teach me to knit, again...  Make a fun pillow for each one of my little girls to snuggle, giggle, and cry in!     Paint a piece of furniture a fun color. 
• Design my own recovery/support cards.  Who better to understand what others need to hear?
• Go on a spiritual retreat. Omega Institute? Yes! (Uh-Oh.  Here we go again, big bucket list item)  Perhaps. Or, at a local church.  
• Treat myself to a pedicure or facial more often. Forgo the cheese and crackers, and use the money saved for a massage.
• Write. Write. Write. Every day.  For myself or for publication.  Just do it.. Every day. 
• Practice Yoga... often. Five minutes or an hour, doesn't matter.     
• Nap.  Delicious afternoon respites cuddling with a loved one... Or a body pillow. 
• Cook.  Host mini parties to celebrate everything, a new haircut, a new moon, life. 
• Hand out a whole lot more hugs, kisses and love you’s. 

There’s more.  But, it’s a secret. I’ll tell you on my next birthday! 

La vie est bon!  

"There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you, yourself have altered." - Nelson Mandela

Forgivishness- Anne Lamott

I like to multi-task.  I know there is something to be said for being fully present, in the moment, but when I'm on the treadmill, I want to be somewhere other than the moment.  Anything to distract from the redundant slapping sound of my tennis shoes as they hit the rubber.  Listening to music is great... sometimes.  But, even if you have over 500 tunes on your I-Pod, if you're like me, you’ve sung them all.  My new love are podcasts. The free ones I can find on I-Tunes are the best especially if I can get them for the length of my workout.  I discovered a few of these writers' interviews this past week and Anne Lamott was one of them.  The interview was forty-five minutes long, just perfect.  I am a huge fan of Anne Lamott’s work.  I’m not always right there with her political beliefs (other than her stance on peace and ending the killing and war) but her relationship with Jesus, self-deprecating humor, sarcasm, humanness in striving towards spirituality, and most of all, her honesty, make me feel like I’ve found my soul sister.  She tears open her shirt and lays it all bare; every defect, insecurity, and struggle.    

In this particular podcast, she was discussing what was her newest book at the time of the interview,  Grace (Eventually): Further Thoughts on Faith.  The interviewer’s questions circled around to her liberal beliefs, her Christianity, and her personal relationship with Jesus.  The conversation headed in the direction of when others hurt you, the resentment it brings, and forgiveness.  Ann told the interviewer forgiveness for her, is more along the lines of “forgivishness”.  A process that went something like this...  I sort of forgive you today to the best of my ability, but I may be royally resentful of you tomorrow especially if the affront and pain pop back up in my head again.   Hearing that, I actually whooped.  And, jumped up and down on my treadmill.  Note to self as I tumbled backward and let the wall behind me stop my fall... with my head:  Don’t do that ever again.  

Forgivishness!  What a perfect term to describe the process of forgiveness. I can stop beating myself up over my inability to put the past completely behind me.  I've surely tried as well as handed it over to God because I seemed powerless.   I wrote about a recent "blue moon" experience a week or so ago and it was a perfect example of forgivishness at work.  Forgiven today.... pissed off again tomorrow.    Anyone who knows me well, will tell you, I’ve tried setting it all up in flames, but not everything burns so easily.  Upon further introspection,  do I really want it to?  Maybe my inability to annihilate chapters of my life, forgive forever, and move on completely, is a gift.  Because fire doesn’t burn everything and sometimes what’s left after the flames burn out, is the charred memory of spectacular moments, times of real love and intimacy, and the soul of another human being, just like me, capable of making mistakes, hurting others, and navigating their learning process.  All of this might still remain, just waiting for the soot to be rubbed off, so something of beauty can be revealed.  Do I really want to set off a nuclear bomb to all of it, just to move forward?  Wouldn’t it be better to do my best on an ongoing basis to gently squeeze the poison out, a bit at a time?  Let it ooze to the surface, rather than cutting it out and taking parts of the heart and soul that were present too and equally a part of the experience, or relationship, along with the excision? 

When these hurts, offenses, and pain from the past arise, isn’t it better to allow myself to experience it briefly, extract what that pain is trying to teach me.... maybe I played a role and I need to learn how to not play that role again.  And, then, do my best to forgive... myself and the others?  If I played no role and still was harmed, perhaps it behooves me to look for the love in the aftermath, in the arms of others who stood beside me, comforted me, and loved me into life again?  Doesn’t true healing really only arrive on the wings of love?   So, if we burn away or cut out the good along with the experience, will healing ever take place and can forgiveness ever really come? 

Forgiveness for me hasn't been like a one act play;  rich with colorful language, thoughts of creative revenge and prayers for karmic payback.  Final scene.... fairy dust drifts down on the stage and poof....it is finished. I tried that.  Forgiveshness is a process, an epic production of tragedy and comedy, and hopefully when we are finished sorting through the rubble, plucking and tossing away the anger, resentment and hurt, we retain the lessons, the memories... and most of all the love.  Forgivishness.. Finally, this feels authentic, and honest, much more in alignment with the peace, and positive energy I am trying to draw into my life. 

The pressure is off.   The guilt is gone. No longer do I need to beat myself up when I revisit unpleasant events and times I thought I had put behind me.  It can take a long time, perhaps even a lifetime  to clean off the charred remains of a past.  I think it might be so worth it to process it this way.   Gold doesn’t burn and never loses its value.  Sorting through the rubble from time to time to extract something priceless, well, somehow it all seems worthwhile,  even if I have to revisit the pain of the past to find it.   There’s always forgivishness.

A Birthday Reflection... Written in gratitude

I’ve been spending way too much time recently thinking about how different my life would be, if only...... If only you were here with me to share some of these heavy, day to day burdens heralded in by this ghastly recession and too little: support, time, opportunity, money, energy.   If only you were here to savor the sweetest little girls ever... your granddaughters.  You would delight in their happy outlooks and inquisitive minds.  When I close my eyes, I  can see you and the relationship you'd have with each one of them.  Sydney would be your co-conspirator, partner in crime; the two of you exploring, being ornery together. Sydney tries it all, just like you.   Alex.. you would torment her... like you did Christi.  She’s the sensitive one, just like Christi.  She's the one with the soft little voice and spirit. And, she too would come to know, just like Christi, that your challenging her helped her  to acknowledge her intelligence, hone her many gifts.  The two of you, in reality, were so much alike. Sometimes seeing ourselves reflected in another is the perfect mirror in allowing us to discover the brightest facets of the prism of our personalities too.   Oh, my...   And, Cameron would be your little love bug. She'd make you laugh, and laugh at your silly jokes too. She would help you see the world as it should be seen; simply and delighfully with her awareness and innocent wisdom.   You would be so incredibly proud of both Scott and Christi.  The kind of parents they are and the kind of compassionate and giving human beings they’ve become too.  They're just like you with their community and volunteerism efforts, something I never really shared with you.  You knew I was better one on one, helping people in a quieter, more private manner, and you honored that.  Maybe that's why we made such a great team.  We both couldn't take center stage.   It would make you beam to see the desire and contributions of this lovely young family of yours,  towards a better community, and better world. I hope it would make you smile in knowing  that I've finally opened up to the world some too, sharing my experiences with the intent of helping someone else in their journey.

I thought about all of these things, today, especially.  How many adventures would we have had... How much of the world would we have seen by now?  Would we be working together towards our common dream of business ownership or even be business owners now?  Would our home be a haven and reflection of us, a place where others felt comfortable stopping by too and sharing in our good fortunes?   Would we have stayed true to our plans to make a difference in this world by continuing to be the change we wanted to see?  Would we still be traveling down similar spiritual paths? I know we would still be celebrating a family of fabulous July birthdays in the signature Mahoney style,  those big Irish celebrations of life.  I miss throwing those parties.    

It would take a large notebook to list all of the things I miss about you.  I think if I could only pick one, it would be the way you made me feel... always... in your presence.  Safe, valued, supported... adored.   You called forth the very best in me, and asked only one thing... that I love myself too and let my light shine.   

This morning,  as I sat in the spot where you took your last breath,  I prayed so hard for you to just touch in.  Give me some advice.  Tell me what to do next so I can let my light shine and make you proud, make me proud and leave a legacy of a happy life filled with integrity, goodness, and joy when its my time to depart this earthly plane. 

I know you are near.  I just heard your voice, shushing me, reassuring me, letting me know heaven has heard my prayers.  I just need to rest quietly and watch for the signs. Watch and listen.... The answers do come along with the rain, in the persistent pounding of the waves on the beach, the blossoming of my poor little half dead flowers, that confident little red cardinal staring me down from the kitchen window, and inside a spectacular full moon.  

Until we meet again, I will look for you with my heart.  I know it is then you will come.  Like the rain. Sometimes gently preceded by signs...the soft smells of nature and the cooling air:  I'll know you are on your way, slipping easily into my thoughts.  Other times surprising me with a downpour and intensity, chastising me for spending way too much time, dwelling on the what-ifs instead of celebrating and being grateful for the what was and IS. 

 If only you were here?  You are. 

Happy Birthday my love.... 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=crTc1V34m8g

(Thank you my precious daughter for sharing this perfect Tracy Chapman song with me!  It does indeed say it all....)

How I feel, isn’t the same as how I’m doing - Gemma Baker

Feelings... whoa, whoa, whoa, feelings.......

How I feel isn’t the same as how I’m doing.....This statement tapped me on the shoulder when I read it  recently.  It’s a great reminder to live mindfully instead of allowing the willy-nilly sea of emotion determine a perceived quality of life. It’s all perception too.  The quality of my life is up to me.  How you perceive it, is none of my business.  Your perception should never really matter to me in living my authentic life. 

I know this thought will continue to produce monumental change in the perpetuation of my serenity..... If/when  I remind myself of this when caught up in the thick of it; depression, anger, sadness or even happiness, love, and joy.  All just feelings.  After reading and absorbing the words over, I was struck by the times when I’ve felt depressed.  My body was healthy, I had a great job, plenty of money in the bank, and love surrounding me. What was the deal? I was doing well.  On the flip side, the last few years I have had surges of peace, joy, and contentment. In the eyes of those of the world, I appeared to not be doing so well, professionally, financially, or even physically.   

I’ve said this many times before, my feelings don’t define me.  Just because I feel crazy, doesn’t mean I am crazy.  If I feel sad, that doesn’t mean many things in my world aren’t beautiful. If I cry all day, it doesn’t mean I am weakling. If I feel lost, it doesn’t mean I am.  I know this now and have learned, for the most part to simply go with the flow of them, like an observer stepping back, quietly saying, “Huh, so that’s how sadness feels.”  I believe now it’s a good thing to experience what these emotions feel like in our bodies instead of running from them.  I used to pretend I didn’t know them and used all kinds of methods to hide out from actually experiencing them.     The problem was, they caught up with me and when they did, they overpowered me. They then became how I was doing for a time. 

I’ve noticed acknowledging my feelings and letting them flow, they no longer have a silent stranglehold on my life. I don’t have to stifle them anymore.  When I shushed them, they screamed at me. Now, they appear appropriately knowing they won’t be judged. Sometimes beautifully ebbing and flowing in and out of the hours in my day like the tides, gentle and predictable.   Other times I find myself holding on for dear life as a tsunami threatens to batter my spirit into a pulp.  No matter.  I’ve learned to accept them all.  And, be grateful for them all.... Yes, all of them.    

Having felt them fully now, I see how useful and wonderful they are.  Sometimes, they keep us safe from harm.  When the heart is beating wildly, and the nerve endings are jangling, those feelings might be telling us to walk away from something that could be damaging.  Or, when we recall the exhilaration inside our soul that cause us to lift our arms and rejoice, we could be on the right path.  Feelings help us to connect with other people too.   If we didn’t know the stabbing pain of grief at the loss of a loved one, how could we ever reach out and comfort another.  If we can’t identify with the goosebump thrill of great excitement and joy, could we hug another with authentic enthusiasm at their great joy?

Feelings are like markers along our path, leading us inward towards understanding and learning. They are that scent of holiness inside of us guiding us to healing. I like to think of feelings as the spirit part of me that dances, weeps, rejoices and, sometimes, recoils from the world for awhile.  They are the life line to God inside me, leading the way to my authentic home, in compassion and love.   

I can’t imagine a life without feelings, my Holy Spirit of the soul. I’ve learned it  behooves me not to use them as a measuring stick for how I am doing.  Although, I do believe without them, I wouldn’t be doing well at all.  Feelings are my tools.  I needed this reminder.  I am always fine.  My life is right where its supposed to be. 

People Pleasing - Part II- Playing yourself small....

Walking with my daughter the other day, the conversation turned to an affliction we share.  People pleasing.  Whether genetic or taught, I am happy to report this debilitating disease is in remission for both of us!   Our observations, took a turn towards her three little girls, my granddaughters, and the legacy we would leave.  We decided being an example of self-love, acceptance and authenticity is the best book on self-respect they will ever read.  My last post I wrote about how we dishonor ourselves by putting others first, compromising our values, and giving, with an ulterior motive... to be liked, or loved.  

There is something else we do in order to fit in.  Play ourselves small.  I fear I’ll battle this one from time to time.  I am often in conflict with remaining humble and that inner voice which tells me its safe to use my talents so others may benefit too. I’ve been blessed with examples of those who share their light and let it shine;  individuals who honestly know who they are, use their strengths in honorable ways and are a joy to be around.  Their genuine self-confidence and acceptance of who they are is worthy of following. 

This people pleasing... where did it start for me?   Maybe being a military brat and moving all the time.... I had to quickly assimilate into a group in order to have friends.  It seemed easier to fit in if I wasn’t tooting my own horn about anything and presenting myself as a threat to the status quo.  Even as a child I loved words.  Readers Digest used to have a section called “Enrich your Word Power”.  Every month, I took the test and studied the words carefully, moving on into using them in my conversations.  I recall, even back then, my dad telling me I should cool it with the big words, because it would just intimidate others.  I guessed it would make me friendless if I used a word containing more than five or six letters in it. 

When I moved from out West to Ohio, my clothing, taste in music, hair, and language was a little different.  I know it made my peers in the good old Midwest farmland, squirm. So, I quickly became more conservative even though I felt like a foreigner floundering in a country shut out by a major language barrier.  Oddly enough, two years later they were all indulging in the same trends.  Could I have been a trendsetter had I allowed myself to walk through the ridicule and let my fashion sense shine and be proud of who I was?  Perhaps, but, it was easier to become a part of the herd, than stand out and be the different one. 

That mindset has followed me all my life.  In the workplace, I feared speaking up because no one had much use for a smart woman with ideas of her own. Roles of authority were predominately relegated for many years, to the males in the company. It was clearly, a boys club. Ladies played the support roles.  The guys didn't even have to be good at what they did.  Just being a man gave them extra stars on their evaluations.  Rather than risk losing all, by speaking up openly, I played games and manipulated to get my ideas across and  allowed superiors to take credit and believe my ideas were their original thoughts.  Then, I sat by and watched as they were compensated for those same efforts, mine. 

I went back to school in later middle-age.   I was so much older than the average student.  I let the young-uns lead the way in group endeavors, hiding my working knowledge and experience for fear of being thought of as an arrogant old woman.  What  positive influence could I have had on the learning process of those younger cohorts in sharing my hands-on, practical experience and knowledge? 

In my relationships, especially with men, I have minimized my intellect, my talents, and my personality in order to be with someone.  I thought they wouldn’t be able to accept many of my likes and strengths and I could be perceived as too intimidating.  It made for very lonely relationships, not being able to be myself and shine.  Many of those relationships went by the wayside anyhow because its awful difficult to keep shoving your original thoughts, personality, likes and dislikes, and gifts out of the way and not become a little miserable. Others sense your misery and move away anyhow.   

Finally, in my relationship with my God.  Rather than celebrating His love for me by being my best self, I’ve often prostrated myself,  claiming I am not worthy. I’m not worthy?  I’ve come to know, He created me, His spirit lives in me.  Playing myself small, I play Him small too.   

I was visiting with my 90 year old friend and neighbor last weekend.  He’d received a packet from his granddaughter with a wonderful collection of her achievements, related to her College graduation;  a program, several newsletters featuring her, and an article that appeared in the Wall Street Journal about College graduates and the tough job market they would be entering.  His granddaughter was mentioned in the article as being one of the rare graduates walking into a great job.  The  opening sentence of her cover letter to him said, “Grandpa, Here is some articles about my AMAZING accomplishments!”  And, they were! International study and awards were peppered throughout her list of achievements.  Maybe that’s why she has a job post graduation.  This is a young, self confident woman who refuses to play herself small.  

It’s not humble to hide our God given gifts.  The true definition of humility is knowing, acknowledging and accepting our strengths AS WELL as our weaknesses.  I am fully aware of my weaknesses and freely share those with others.  Witness this open examination of my unexamined life.    Why not share my strengths as well?  Sharing our weaknesses helps others to not feel so alone.  Sharing our strengths plants seeds for change, gives people hope, and helps others to grow as well. 

Today, I choose playing myself exactly as I am..... defects of character AND gifts. I love this quote by Marianne Williamson. “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.”  

Perhaps it’s true it is our light which scares us.  When we are walking in the light, we are out there for everyone to see and that takes a lot of courage.   The darkness might provide a degree of anonymity which we find safe, but few things of great beauty survive or grow in the dark.