Feelings, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa Feelings

In lower and middle school, I took piano lessons.  When I quit lessons, there were just a few remaining songs that I could sit down and play by memory.  "The Rose", "You Light Up My Life" and "Feelings" were the emotional songs that I sat down and belted out every word.  I think there was a Barry Manilow in the repertoire as well, of course! {giggle}

I'm finding the irony of how enamored I was with those heart wrenching sentimental songs and where I am now.  I have come full circle.

Somewhere along the way from childhood on and most especially after a terrible bout of Postpartum Depression, I shut down allowing myself to experience a full range of feelings or what I like to now call by the proper name of energy.  Feelings are just energy, plain and simple.  Society and those persons closest to us, tell us not to cry, not to be angry and ignore the anxiety and Just Do It.  It's both a natural reaction to cry but also it seems to try and stop someone from having an emotional catharsis.  How many times have you seen someone apologize for making someone cry or apologize for crying oneself and then making a joke about it?  It can go to the extreme though, as a good portion of America now numbs itself with compulsions or addictions.  Nowadays, there are more compulsions that you can shake a stick at.  The old standards are still there: alcohol, drugs, gambling, food, cleaning, exercising and newer ones with that have crept in with technology, all so we can avoid ourselves and the emotional energy that naturally comes up in life.  We are turning away from ourselves (and the Divinity within).  And it takes a lot of practice to turn towards oneself again.

For years, I have been listening to a marvelous teacher named Mary O'Malley, a therapist in Washington State.  In interviews, videos, and articles, Ms. O'Malley states that in essence befriending and being curious with the compulsion is the way through, not trying to fight it head on but rather using curiosity and compassion.

Curiosity and compassion towards myself? Are you kidding? How contradictory is this to the message from the diet industry which owns my compulsion:  restrict, and deny yourself through eating.   As then there is the Western mentality of pulling yourself up by your bootstraps and white knuckling through whatever. 

I have been missing the curiosity and compassion component for years even though I had heard of it. I had no idea of how to do it.  I figured out I needed to feel my feelings so I started gutting myself through all of them.  I learned that anger is a sign that boundaries are being tread on and so I took different actions with certain people.   I faced anxiety and deep sadness head on.  I cried buckets, and sat with discomfort that I wanted to escape from more than anything.  A true bonus though, was learning that joy was in this mix of energy too.  I began to feel utter joy from simple encounters with my family, friends and nature because when you turn away and numb, you numb everything.

What Ms. O'Malley points out is that we judge our energy (feelings) and that keeps us in the vicious cycle.

I JUDGE MYSELF FOR HAVING THE ENERGY THAT COMES!

I'm screaming this because I need that to sink in as I practice acceptance. 

She describes four kinds of movements in regards to energy.  The first is anger that I'm not getting what I want.  The second is fear and I'm getting what I don't want.  The third is despair/sadness that I will never get what I want.  Lastly, Mary says the glue that holds them all together is judgement.

We want to escape the anger, sadness, fear and we try to think ourselves out of the shame, guilt and whatever else is associated with it.  In my head, I think so very many derogatory thoughts of myself.  Why am I feeling this way, no one else is?  I need to get over this.  I am so pitiful.  What can't I be stronger, etc. etc.  I beat myself up.  Let's just pile it on. That will make things better. NOT.

Ms. O'Malley does a brilliant in depth explanation of the next step and more in her book, The Gift of Our Compulsions, if you are so inclined.  I had a simple event recently that highlighted the act of compassion towards myself.  I know Mary knows what she is talking about but knowing and experiencing the phenomena are two completely different things.  Both of my kids went off in different directions for the first week of summer.  Four years ago on a Sunday,  I watched Mallory drive off on a bus towards camp, a destination 6 hours away for the first time, and I cried uncontrollably.  I couldn't contain it, and I couldn't pull it together to attend church.  Four years later, we were going to church on another Sunday, yet Mallory was already gone to Texas and we were going to be bringing Riley to catch the bus for a weeklong mission trip. As I got dressed that morning, I immediately experienced a strong wave of "I've got to cry" sadness.

And then something brilliant happened if I do say so myself.  In that wave, I immediately accepted the fact that I was going to cry my eyes out and deemed that it was okay.  NO BIG DEAL. I packed up makeup to refresh myself so that I could go to church.  And I went on with my morning and the sad wave of energy passed.

I didn't resist the energy, or judge it.  I know how much I love my girls and I'm watching them grow up and be independent, which I didn't learn until my forties.  Four years ago,  I was probably crying for my own self who was scared of everything and transferring it to Mallory. She was totally fine and excited. But it doesn't matter why I cried.  This time,  I ACCEPTED IT.  My goal here is self acceptance and love.

Energy comes and goes. Learning compassion and curiosity towards myself, opens my heart to those around me and in the world.  It's my new practice.

Feelings, whoa, whoa, whoa feelings.  Again in my heart.

Namaste.

I Said No, Finally

Vacation Bible School was this week.  When the email came out a few months ago, I did something that it took years for me to do.  I sent out a polite email and said, I would not be volunteering this year.

I said no.

Not only did I not volunteer, I haven't even been driving to church every morning.  My teenager is working VBS as a youth leader and my ten year old is participating in Mission Day Camp and we are carpooling!!  I have volunteered for the last 10-12 years. Two years ago, I went totally nuts and led (the children) through a week of Mission Day Camp and if that wasn't enough, I volunteered to be in charge of the craft for VBS.   I put my time in.  And it wasn't without inner turmoil.

From the very beginning, VBS overwhelmed me.  Coming from a very small country church with a handful of kids, I distinctly remember walking into my large church's gym for the first time and feeling overpowered by the intensity of nearly four hundred kids.  I didn't even have my own kids yet.  This gym was boisterous, loud, and full of energetic children.  And for several of the next years, I was responsible for groups of those loud, energetic children.  And even though the week wore me down like no other, and I had no energy for my own children, I persisted in volunteering year after year because that is what I was supposed to do.

In hindsight, I worried what it would look like that I was a stay at home mom who did not volunteer for VBS.   I let my concern over what I thought other people would think prevail over what I absolutely knew was true about myself. And then throw God in the mix and I was totally set up for years of inner angst!  I was never meant to be a teacher of kids.  I tried really hard to mold myself into that but it didn't work.  Girl Scout leader didn't stick either.

Yet I learned.  One year, I filled out a scathing review at the end of the week because I did not know how to ask for help.  That year, I was leading an "active" group that needed a lot of intervention and my co-leader's daughter got sick and I was ALONE with my lot.  I needed to ask for more help but I did not want to bother anybody.  I was miserable and it seeped out in the questionnaire.

Over time, I learned to listen to my intuition, I learned to be assertive, I learned that I was capable of leading children, I was capable of being in charge of something important but it is not my passion.  When you are passionate about something, it is near effortless and you gain energy!  What feels like work in one area, just flows in another.  (and that's God flowing through)

I am an introvert (albeit a social one).  Being around people drains me, especially children : )   I have to cocoon for a long time after spending a week with four hundred children.  Every summer, I would have an emotional meltdown towards the end of the summer and it was awful.  I didn't know how to listen to my intuition, and act on it.  I didn't ask for a quieter job.

But I know now.

But the mind is a funny thing. This past Monday morning, even though I knew without a shadow of a doubt, that I was hanging my VBS volunteer hat up for good, I did feel the need to tell two near strangers at church, that I was not working this year.  And guess what? THEY DID NOT CARE.

I'm the only one that cared!

 I'm the one that had to change my thoughts about it.  The only person I had to truly disappoint was me.  (well my oldest is giving me a small amount of flak, but she's a teenager and well, you know...) Thoughts are so powerful.  Paying attention to what you tell yourself about any given situation is so powerful.  Are the thoughts true?  Is the story that is repeated all day long in your head, true?  Those thoughts can mean misery or freedom.  It is the most important thing to do, to challenge the thoughts that you tell yourself about yourself all day long.  It takes time, but they can be rewired.

So today is the last day of VBS, and I am not even going for the closing service.  I will show up at noon when it's completely over, and gather my children together.  And I'm at peace with that.  I get to stay at home and write today. Pure Bliss.

Namaste

Postscript: Everyone should volunteer for a few years if able.  I just volunteered for about five years too long.

Putting the Air Mask on First

During Christmas break, I tend to lose my marbles when the kids are home 24/7.  It's just the way it goes.  And every year, I forgot that this will occur, and finally after 13 years as a mom, I'm starting to catch on.    I get cranky, short-tempered and yearn for any adult conversation at Easter, Mardi Gras, Thanksgiving and Summer Vacation.  During this past Christmas break,  putting the air mask on first, what airlines tell you to do in preflight demonstration before you put the mask on your child, resonated with me big time.

It really sunk in.

It is one thing to have intellectual knowledge of a notion or idea it is another to put it in practice. (And for it to go well.)
I have read and talked about many parenting ideas that I know are right from an intellectual standpoint
yet putting ideas that I recognize to be good in practice requires much discomfort.

I saw an incremental change during the last school break. On the spur of the moment, I decided to go to yoga and leave the ten year old with the thirteen year old (and the ferocious guard dog and the alarm system on!)  The ten year old DOES NOT LIKE staying at home with the thirteen year old.   The thirteen year old who herself has Red Cross certification and one babysitting experience under her belt, DOES NOT WANT a sitter anymore. So what's standing in my way, is the beloved heart and nerves of a ten year old.  (On this particular occasion, my husband was able to leave later for work, and off I ran.)

But this time, I was going for it, no matter what.  Even though it made my ten year old uncomfortable, I wanted and needed to go.  In the past, I would have hedged back and forth, the child would have seen that I was hesitant and they would have gone for the jugular for me to do what they wanted.

The practice of yoga, feeds my soul and works out my body.   I feel refreshed, renewed, and mindful afterwards.  It is exactly what I needed to take on the rest of the day and school break.  And it hit me that this is what it means to put the air mask on first, because then you are better able to handle what comes your way.   This was actually practicing that idea with one caveat.

I would do things before that were FOR ME but I would feel GUILTY over it and WORRY the entire time.  This was one time, I walked away and left my worries at home and focused on myself for an entire hour.

It was almost better than an orgasm.

And it lasted longer.

I came home from yoga, went straight to Mallory and said, "I know you didn't want me to go and I appreciate your cooperation, I really love to practice yoga and it makes me feel really good" (...Laying the foundation for future yoga sessions)

And the kicker is this act of putting the air bag on first is teaching my children to take care of themselves.  Losing my mind and being short tempered, is not how I want to love my children or myself.

Taking care of me, helps me take care of them AND most importantly they learn from watching what I do.  Not what I say.  What I do.

My First Aerobics Class Since 2008

I stepped out of my comfort zone this afternoon.  And I say Hallelujah every time I do this in large and small ways.  I attended a zumba type dance class.  I have not attended any type of "fitness" class other than yoga in many years.  I can tell you exactly when I walked away.  The scene is perfectly etched in my mind.  I see it.

It was 2008 and it was a horrible Muscle Works Class at a local gym.  I wrote about it on June 13, 2009 entitled "Nightmare in Muscle Works"  The instructor was a meanie.  I just reread what happened and I forgot some of the interaction that went on between she and I.  I don't do well with meanies.  Life is too short to deal with people that are negative and condescending.  It was such a defining moment that I walked away from ever attending another class like that for nearly 8 years.

At that time, I did decide yoga was my pathway for class settings but even that was in a very tepid, careful way.   And I LOVE YOGA and what it does for me.    I have had a love/hate relationship with "exercise" for a long time and I'm coming out of it.  That class or rather, that teacher made me feel inferior and discouraged about exercise classes, and I let her.  But yoga helped me work through it.

I realized tonight that I let that one person affect me dramatically.  There were plenty of other classes and teachers and gyms.  Yet, that is okay.  This was supposed to be my journey.

Found a picture on FB! That is me all the way to the left.

So this afternoon, I went to a Refit dance class taught by a teacher and another parent from my children's school.  I have been watching another Facebook friend post about the Refit classes she teaches for a couple of years now.  I was probably invited to attend one but it never entered my mind, that I could DO the class.  It looked somewhat appealing but in my head, I said, I can't.

That is so sad.

But I feel differently today.  I needed to walk away all those years ago.  I needed to practice yoga and develop a healthier relationship with exercise.  I am learning to listen to my body and know that it likes to move.  Not every single day but movement has become joyful moreso than "I HAVE to do this."  My body is a temple and I want to take care of it and that is sinking in more and more.  When I was resistant to going even to yoga, which I have been doing for fourteen years, my friend says she looks upon it as a massage.  I had never thought of it that way.  That is sinking in too.

Now, I WILL be sore for the next few days.  I can already feel some muscles feel like jello.  But it is great to move unused muscles and there is ibuprofen after all.

So, I plan to make another class soon and keep trying. It will take some time to learn the moves but it was fun.  It was a wonderful way to move my body with music and other women and no meanies.

Namaste.

I Didn't Remember That I Loved This Mama Cass Song!

Last night was the season finale of The Middle, a hilarious family comedy.  Sue Heck graduated from high school!!  Sue is the middle child who never gives up and always has a smile on her face.   She tried out for everything and didn't make anything.  She created her own cheerleading squad for the wrestlers with a band of misfits. Kids at school didn't know who she was even after four years of high school.   I got teary eyed watching her montage.  They played this Mama Cass song which I have not heard in a long, long time.  I had really forgotten about the song.

But I knew every word.

Why did I start to cry at the end of the montage?  I went around with a smile on my face all the time like Sue.  I don't know if I had perseverance (?) but I'm learning to be like Sue now!  You have to follow your own pathway, especially if the normal or regular one doesn't work for you.

So now I'm making my own way and sometimes it is very lonely.  I don't fit in with a crowd.  Whatever a crowd is anymore?  There are things that I just don't care about anymore.  But it's come to my attention that I must do it my way.  That is the only thing that lets my soul sing.  And once your soul has sung, you can't go back.  You can't do what doesn't work anymore,

Here's to the year of Sue and Making it your own way however and whatever that is!

The Way I Look At Myself in the Mirror

The truth is the mirror has always been a really hard place.  And I NEVER, EVER, NEVER thought it would get any easier.  Yesterday, I read a sentiment of a female looking at an old picture of herself and she wondered how had she thought she was heavy at the time of the picture.

I've done the same thing.  I thought I was heavy in high school, and college, and in my thirties, etc.  And in the past, I have looked at those pictures and thought, wow, if I could only be at that weight now.

I could fly with that weight.

So evidently, in my teens, the body image distortion was already in place and thriving.  Negative thoughts about myself were abundantly flowing.

I have been wanting to really write about body image for 2-3 years now, but something has been holding me back.   I feel like I shouldn't have a voice because my BMI is higher than I would want.  Yet, I have been in groups of thin and average sized women recently and was startled to hear complaints that they are fat, and worried about how their clothes look, and they shouldn't be eating this food, etc.

Body image distortion (and issues with food) are abundant and pervasive.

And I think, "Well, I'm not the only one."  And then my critical self thinks, "Yes, but you do have some weight to lose so you have no right to an opinion." In years past, I felt it was necessary to announce to anyone that would listen, that I knew I needed to lose weight and how I was working on that.  It makes me shudder to think that I thought so little of my self.  The self that an abundantly loving divine presence made.

And Love is the answer after all.

After many diligent years and intentional work of learning to love myself unconditionally, the result has been a shift in my core belief and the thoughts in my head.  

Weight does not equal self worth.  I am not my weight.

Ohhh, I've hit a nerve.  Tears sprang to my eyes when I wrote that.  Coming to this truth has been so hard.  My therapist says body image is one of the issues that takes the longest to heal.    It's a booger.  (smile)  If you look at any media, there it is.  We as women, at every turn, are told we need to lose weight, look younger, defy aging, have larger breasts, etc.  That is one of the reasons I avoid commercials, among other things.

One way that I know that I'm healing my body image is by putting on a form fitting long gown and going out to a formal occasion.  This was a huge step.  I have done it a few times in the last few years and it was uncomfortable each time, I hesitated to go.   Yet at a point during the evening, I think, wow,  I'm having such a great time how can that be?   Even though there's more of me than I would like.  Am I allowed to have fun even though my dress size is double digits?  Am I allowed to have fun even though the local boutiques don't even carry something to fit me? 

Absofuckinloutely.

(Pardon my French, the point just didn't seem the same without the swear word - Thanks Mr. Big!) 

Another way I know I'm healing is my yoga practice.  I have been choosing to go to yoga because my body wants to move.  (or walking, or bike riding, or turning on the music and dancing!)  I have to be very careful about making myself do any particular activity because "I'm supposed to."  As I have worked to diminish the crappy "supposed to" thoughts in my head, I have learned my body tells me pretty much every day that it wants to move.  And I'm hearing it and responding on most days.  And it feels delightful, empowering, joyful and strengthening.  So different than when I did it because I was "supposed to."  It's coming from a much healthier vantage and one that I look forward to instead of dreading.  (And my body will also tell me what food it needs for fuel as I have shed the diet mentality and supposed to's in that area as well.)

While practicing yoga in different studios, there tend to be large mirrors.  Form fitting clothing works best for yoga.  I unconsciously or consciously refrained from going many times because of the fear of the mirror, or what others would think, etc.   Here's the flummoxing part: in practice at a mirrored studio, in my head with my eyes closed, I feel lean and strong.  And then I open my eyes and the mirror does not match what's in my head.  This startled and shocked me the first few times it happened and it still does even now but to a lesser degree.

As my body has wanted to move and I listen, I have been practicing more regularly and moved up to the harder class.  Through this repeated exposure, I've been making friends with my appearance in the mirror.  Slowly, ever so slowly, over time, the thoughts that I'm not enough have been fading and ones that I am enough as I am have been forthcoming. And even with aches and pains here and there in my body, over time, the predominant feeling that has been emerging is one of strength.  The practice of yoga is not only strengthening my body, but my mind and my spirit.  It feels so freaking good to move through the positions, and it feels like a solid flow, as well as shaky, sweaty, catching, breathing hard and muscles aching.   I try poses even for just a few seconds that my head tells me I can't.  I hold that harder position and my body and mind grow.  The I can't begins to fall away.

I am flying in this body.

Namaste.

That's All There Is To Say

I've Got Other Things to Think About...

At the end of last week, I was down on myself.  These spiraling thoughts come and it seems like I can't stop them and it feels like they will never go away.  It's about weight and size and while I'm in the middle of it, it feels like the end of the world.  And then sadness sets in.  And I want to fight to get out of this SO much.  Yet "fighting" it just prolongs the temporarily massively uncomfortable feelings.

As I drove to my therapist's office for my regular scheduled appointment, I felt the heaviness that something needed to be expressed but I wasn't exactly sure what it was. I bring up the body image feelings going on, and I'm advised that there must be a disconnect going on.  A disconnect as in,  all is not well with my soul, (or my sense that on a general level I'm o-kay).  When this disconnect occurs the first place that I attack is ME and I start JUDGING myself unmercifully!
I watch a tv show and think, wow, that woman is so thin and I'm not.  And I see my body and think horribly judgmental things about it.


So back at therapy,  I bring up a few issues and I guess that combined to make a disconnect.  This is the thing, I can't prevent these feelings from coming (which is what I want to do!) I just have to warmly embrace the feelings of wanting to escape who I am for a few days!!

I can see when the judgmental attack of myself is over that it was just a blip and it lasted a few days.  The feelings come and if I just tend them with care and curiosity (Thank you Mary O'Malley)  as to why they came, they dissipate. (And there doesn't have to be an answer to the questions of curiousity either.)
But paying attention and being curious will bring me to areas that I can attend to.  And if I had a job outside the home, with job performance reviews, they would be called "Areas of Growth Opportunities!!"

I use to have these negative body thoughts on a regular basis throughout the day, but that is ceasing.  So I was surprised that they came up with such a vengeance.  It's always a surprise, but this is the journey all along.


In the meantime,  this is what I will practice.  This stunned me when I read it, because I don't do this very well.

Namaste

Tripping Up So I Could Sit Down

I needed a break.

So I tripped unloading groceries and sprained my ankle.  It hurt.  It still hurts.

But this Sunday morning, I am sitting in a house by myself with my foot propped up and a bag of ice and enjoying quiet, stillness and my thoughts.

I SO NEEDED THIS.

I could cry thinking how much I'm delighting in the quiet (except for the occasional dog sounds) even while I'm in pain. Did I unconsciously do this so I would have to sit down?

I don't know.  I know I have to revel in this quiet now because come tomorrow, I am back on duty, full on.  The kids can help though and making them step up, pushes their boundaries of leaning on mom when they could do for themselves.  Interesting to watch, because it tugs at me.  I'm supposed to take care of them.  But as they mature, they can start taking care of their own needs, which is the goal of parenting.

Well, time to go revel in the quiet again, before it's over.

Day 3: Post-Op

Mothers of young children are not allowed to be sick or recuperate from "procedures."   This is a fact.

I came home from my "procedure" three days ago.  I didn't realize that my endometrial ablation would include a tube down my throat and gas to put me out.  I thought I would wake up and be ready to go like I did from my colonoscopy which also used propofol.  This time my friend, the uterus, that I boiled, was on fire and let me know.  The ladies who said they stopped for lunch on the way home from this procedure, lied. {grin}

In Post-Op, I had very involved conversations with the nurse and he and I finally came to an understanding.  Communication is so important in all relationships!  I told him I wasn't a good reporter.  He would ask if I needed pain medicine, I would grimace and ask if it would knock me out again.  I don't like to be knocked out and I knew the kids needed to be picked up from carpool.  He and I would discuss the pros and cons of each pain reliever.  He would ask again if I needed pain reliever, I would grimace and then he delivered more medicine through the IV and out I went.  I had one spell of nausea that didn't last long.

On the way home from hospital when all I wanted to do so badly was go to bed, we had to swing by and pick up the children from carpool.  I just laid my head on the console and hoped it went quickly.  We make it home, I hit the bed and begged my husband to get the prescription pain medicine.

My youngest daughter learned that she won a $50 Walmart gift card from our library in a drawing of summer reading program participants.  She and my husband get my narcotics and her gift card.  Well, of course she wants to go to Walmart and pillage everything in the "My Little Pony"section and my husband comes to me during one of my conscious phases and asks if he can take her and leave Riley with me.  I say no.  Mallory holds off for a few minutes and comes in and cries about not being able to go.  My anger rises.  I'm in pain, and in and out of consciousness but I still have to make decisions.  I stay awake for a good period and decide it's better for them to go so that I don't have to take her later.

The next day, my friend drops off delicious Sweet Wishes Cupcakes.  I share them with the girls when they get home from school.  At this point, I am about 60%.  My throat hurts from the intubation tube, my uterus aches and I feel anesthesia fog.  As I work to drag Mallory to soccer practice of which she really, really wanted to play when I signed her up but now she despises and blames me for having to go, she decides to ask me why I ate the chocolate cupcake.

I lose it.  It's not pretty.  The words, "I'm the one who had a tube down my throat", "I'm the one who had my uterus boiled", and "It was MY friend who brought the cupcakes so I get to eat the CHOCOLATE one" come out of my mouth very loudly.

I apologize, we go to soccer practice, I don't really remember driving but I'm sure it was done safely.  The next day I have an aha that is okay for me to be cranky.  It is o-kay to be cranky.  No explanations, no rationale.  It is okay to disappoint others.  I have to take care of myself.  (Extreme self care= let me disappoint you) I don't have to be "on" all the time. And it is good for my children to know that as well.  They don't have to pretend that all is fine, all the time.  Authenticity.

"It's Their Problem, Not Yours"

I'm so ecstatic, I had an aha moment.  You see the kids are home for summer and it's been all maintenance, no preventative work! There has been no time for thinking, writing or aha moments.  But I watched just a few moments of actress Diahann Carroll on Oprah's Master Class and I was reminded of a fact.

Oh no, I just lost it...

Wait its back.  Okay- here goes.

Diahann described how on a train ride in DC when she was a young girl, she and her mother had to get up and move 2 cars down because the one they were in, was determined to no longer be integrated.  It blew her away that in the nation's capital, this discrimination would exist.  Her mother told her "it's their problem, not yours."  She went on to say that there was something wrong in their lives that they have decided to interpret it in terms of race.

This just struck a nerve in me.  Her mother was brilliant to tell her that it had nothing to do with her. Most people's actions towards me are about their internal struggles and it's really not about me.   I thought of the struggles I have internalized so deeply worrying about what other people thought and inferred that I was less than  (and this was not to the serious level of blatant racial discrimination)   For the majority of my life thus far,  I have thought so negatively about myself.  I don't feel this way any more but certain thoughts linger and pop up from time to time.  But this sound bite of Diahann Carrol's story reminded me of it.

And then there is this little golden nugget from Pastor Rick Warren: "If you live for the approval of others, you will die by their rejection." 


Hmmm.  Good stuff.

He also said the two biggest reasons people do not fulfill their purpose are envy and people pleasing.  Envy: I must be like you to be happy.  People Pleasing: I must be liked by you to be happy.
If you spend time trying to be like someone or trying to be liked, you will miss God's purpose for your life.

You cannot make other people happy.   They have to do it for themselves.  Just like I cannot wait around for others to make me happy from... Carolyn Golightly. 

This ties in with another aha I did have, I did have one last week via a FB friend!  She suggested a chapter in the Cheryl Richardson book, "The Art of Extreme Self Care."  I have been having a hard time adjusting to the summer schedule and was feeling overwhelmed.  Normally I would have to come up with reasons why I was feeling this way.  I would have to legitimize it.  I knew instinctively I don't have to legitimize it anymore, I just need to take care of myself because I am overwhelmed.  My friend told me about Chapter 3, which is entitled, "Let Me Disappoint You."  I just started giggling because the tune of "Let me entertain you" popped up.  Those around us will be disappointed and that is o-kay.  It is hard for the recovering people pleaser in me yet I truly see the need for boundaries.

I need to take care of myself all the time even before the overwhelming feelings but it has not been natural to do so.  Yet, I am practicing, practicing.  I practiced this morning and it seemed to be no big deal to the other person.  I knew I had to listen to my own intuition and what was best for me.  

(And on a cool note: I saw Diahann Carroll in a live production of "Sunset Boulevard" in Toronto years ago.)

Divine Timing in the Ladies Room

I tried a new Spiritual discipline tonight completely and utterly by chance.  Prior to that, I had walked out of my current Sunday evening study and felt heart heavy.

My goal attending this particular evening class is to use it as practice for speaking up.  I have never felt brave enough to speak my thoughts in these types of mixed settings.  The vibe in this class though is very different from the ones that I have been deliberately choosing to change my image of God.  Most classes I have been in of late, have been swathed in spiritual oneness, and compassion and have been healing my religious wounds by leaps and bounds.  I have never had one snarky comment made towards me.

Well, that occurred tonight.  The trick about speaking up is that your words can come back at you in positive or negative ways.  I could continue to remain passive and just listen but  I really want to grow through this, yet growing requires uncomfortableness.

And I am growing RIGHT NOW.

In contrast to Sunday nights class, I attend a class at our Spiritual Formation Center on Sunday mornings and I felt at home from the first visit on.   I don't ever want to leave.  After months of speaking up, I was called out for being a "Spiritual Pilgrim."  These people speak my language and are having the same aha's I have been having.  When I hear people express the very same thoughts that I have had, it is so affirming.  It is exactly the opposite of what I felt leaving my class Sunday night.

We ended early, I ran into the bathroom and one of my favorite spiritual teachers happened to be in the stall next to mine. She invited myself and the other bathroom inhabitant to participate in Taize.

Hmmm.    My stomach turned slightly.  This is brand new and I had never experienced it.  Uncomfortable.   I asked how long it would take.  Twenty minutes, which would have me leaving at the same time as the study normally did.

Perfect timing.

I must GO FOR IT.

On this night with my heavy heart, I came into our conference room whose floor is a labyrinth and it was dimly lit with candles.   This meditative walk is an ancient practice used by many different faiths for centering, contemplation and prayer.  One walks slowly on the path while quieting the mind and focusing on a spiritual question or a prayer and stops in the center to sit, kneel or pray and then walk out the path once again.

As I walked the heaviness of my heart dissipated.  I decided to repeat the mantra of, "woundedness out", "love in."  I practiced breathing that as well.  I breathed love in, and exhaled woundedness as I have learned in yoga.

This is exactly where I needed to be and the experience I needed to have to affirm God's presence in my life.

It was perfect divine timing in the ladies' room.

It Must Be the Luck of the Irish (or a lot of mindfulness)

It feels like forever since I have sat down to write.  And I really miss it.

This morning I had very profound thought and now it is gone.  It was again along the lines of weight and acceptance.  It seemed deeper this morning.

I think it was that although I really do want to lose weight, it is NOT about the weight.  Loving and accepting myself is my goal.  I feel as I continue to learn to love and nurture myself that my intuitive eating will kick in again and again.  Nurturing myself which is something I badly needed is beginning to become second nature.  I listen to those nudges when it is time to rest, when I need to tell the kids I need to be alone.  When I need to turn everything off and have silence.  I am amazed at how often I just need silence.

Before the Parade.

It's coming back to me now!! I think my epiphany moment came after I went to a St. Patrick's Day parade.  It occurred to me that I had not thought once about my body or my attire and how it would be received by others.  I spent time with people I had not seen in months and months and I would have worried about this in the past.

I was just "IN" the moment, experiencing the delight of seeing old friends!

The only time I thought about my body was that I kept pulling my shirt down as I raised it to catch beads but that because it wrinkled up each time.  I thought I need to wear something better for exercise next year! ha ha

You don't know you are there until you are there.

I am thrilled that the self-conscious thoughts are slowly extinguishing over time.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Just Having A Bad Day

I have had some good emotional turmoil going on.  The kind that freaks me out completely.   The kind that feels like it will never go away.

And then it does go away and I am completely and utterly amazed.

I watched it happen, I allowed it to flow through.  I didn't question the feelings (for very long at least) or try to rationalize them.  I told myself, it was a bad day.

I just had a bad day.

I received input from sources I should have walked away from because it was negative and my intuition was telling me to walk away.   I even joked about it to the people but didn't follow through.   After I moved away I realized I took what they were saying to heart, and it was too much.  I am sensitive that is who I am and that is what you call boundaries.

I eventually did move away when there was a clear and more polite out but I needed to have spoken up sooner.   Speaking up for myself is something that I am working on.  A few other things went down across the day and the day was shot.

I stopped myself from asking "why?" repeatedly and moved to what I have come to understand that I need to do:  Be Kind To Myself.  Extreme Self Care is what some people call it.   I stop questioning the feelings, and let them go.  And mystically, magically, they do.  The feelings come up and it's my thoughts ABOUT the feelings as Mary O'Malley says in the video which make me suffer.  And boy, have I suffered from these feelings in the past.   I have heard this message from a few of my most beloved gurus and I am beginning to see how it works in real life.

Ms. O'Malley whom I don't know from Adam is a FB friend, therapist and author.  She wrote a book called "The Gift of Our Compulsions" which I hear is very good.  I have only looked at parts of the book.  She posted this video and I listened to it while I walked the dog after my bad day had occurred.  The title drew me in.  When so many ahas come together, so many truths that I know intimately now, it is thrilling.  When I am able to move from complete emotional turmoil to "it's just a bad day"   I know something is working.