a message to my past self

I dunno why, but I had the Sheryl Crow song Home playing in my head during the entire drive home from Steamboat Springs today. So when I walked in my door, I went straight to my computer and pulled it up on YouTube. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bkhfv6vhMkI

I immediately flashed back to the summer of 1997, when I was going through my divorce. I house-sat for a friend, and found this CD in her stereo. I listened to only this song on repeat non-stop for 3 days -- hundreds of times. It became my personal anthem. I woke up this morning, and now I understand what it means to give your love to just one man ... I'm going crazy, a little everyday. Cause everything I wanted is now driving me away. I woke this morning to the sound of breaking hearts. Mine is full of questions and it's tearing yours apart ...

In case time really is irrelevant, and we have the power to change both the past and future in this present moment, I want to beam a message to the tormented woman I was in the summer of '97:

You are not crazy! You feel so alone, like you have to make this most terrible of choices by yourself, and awful things will result which will be all your fault. Let me help you: It's okay to end your marriage. You will not irreparably harm your children, your husband, or yourself.

You will all expand into new territory, and it will all turn out okay. Yes, there will be some growing pains. And you are all FAR more resilient than you have thus far had the opportunity to realize.

You keep thinking there must be more than this small life you are living -- and you are RIGHT! Ten years from now you will look back and count hundreds of hours spent in spiritual and philosophical conversations with friends you do not even know yet. You'll love many more men, and each relationship will expand your consciousness in ways you cannot even begin to imagine now. Your children's lives will become rich with options and perspectives and contrast that leads to clarity. They will become intuitive, wise, discerning beings. They will grow up to be better-than-fine.

Someday you will wake up every day and your playful soul will start to create before your feet even hit the floor. Your guilt and fear will be replaced with trust in life's mysterious perfection. Your longing to see and control the entire tapestry of life will transform into passionate gratitude for the simple joy and privilege of fully inhabiting your own thread.

In the short run, take Winston Churchill's advice: When you're going through hell -- keep going! I know that all this guilt and responsibility and fear really does feel like hell. And I promise you that on the other side of this short segment of pain, there is bliss waiting for you. And it's the kind of bliss that never has to leave you again, no matter what kind of decisions you are facing.

I hope 1997 Karen can hear me. Then again, maybe she wants to work her way into this awareness one painful step at a time. Maybe she chose to block out this kind of comfort, so she could find it inside herself.

Maybe all I can do for her tonight is listen to this song one more time, and bless her silently as she walks her path for the next ten years of her life until she catches up with me -- here in this lovely moment where past and present intersect.

people really CAN change!

I've been listening to a new Abraham-Hicks CD every month for years, and they always start off the recording by asking if we are enjoying the feeling of our unmet desires. Today, for the very first time, I can really and truly say YES!

My life has lots of balls up in the air right now. Not being able to anticipate the outcome of an uncertain situation used to drive me CRAZY. I would consult my tarot cards, get intuitive readings, journal, open books to random pages .... anything to find the answer so I would know how it would all turn out!

Today as I was driving down the road with the wind in my face and the sun on my arm and Lunatic Fringe by Red Rider blasting on my car stereo, I realized that I actually do love Not-Knowing.

Somehow, without even noticing it, I've become a pleasure-delayer, like the characters in the movie Vanilla Sky. Except not exactly, because it's not that I am delaying gratification. It's that the very process of moving from known to unknown is in itself pleasurable. I'm suddenly in no hurry to arrive.

I love getting a new idea -- for instance, that I want to write a book. First, it's entertaining to daydream about how fun it will be, then I enjoy wondering how it will happen. I feel no urgency or anxiety; simply an almost childlike anticipation and curiosity about how it will unfold.

I think the Old Me used to torment myself by trying to work out all conceivable angles to ensure success. Now, I just sit back and watch for the How to reveal itself to me. I used to make long lists of actions I would need to take to achieve my goals. Now I chill out and wait for inspiration to strike, then act on it. How easy and fun is that?

There's been so much synchronicity and magic in my life lately. I've started waking up each day wondering what Playful Coincidence has in store for me. Every time the phone rings, every corner I turn, I am cheerfully expecting something interesting.

And I know I'm not the only one experiencing this shift. I hear it from friends and clients, too. Whatever this is, I'm delighted to be enjoying it with you.

good day

My grandpa used to say Any day I don't see my name in the obituary column is a good day!

Today, as I was waking up, my first conscious thought was gratitude for being alive another day. I can't remember that ever happening before, and I loved it. So now I'm on a gratitude roll.

Top 5 things I appreciate so far today:

1) Flannel sheets (the nights are getting chilly)
2) Sunshine (unconditionally beaming warmth, light, and energy into my life)
3) The internet (I can learn anything I want any time)
4) Reconnecting with old friends (it's so cool to see what changes over time and what doesn't)
5) School buses (I don't have to go out in the morning chill to drive to school!)

love is ...

The only thing that makes you sad is lack of connection to who you are. What people call love, the feeling of love, the feeling of in love, the feeling of joy, is a feeling of no split energy - it's being in sync with the Source. So, any negative emotion you feel is not because of the loss of a person, or the loss of a friend. It's the loss of your connection, the loss of being tuned in and tapped in to who you really are.
- Abraham-Hicks

In other words, the object of our affection is not the source of the good feelings that come with being in love. The good feelings are inside us. Love IS who we are. And we feel much better when we are expressing who we are than when we are not. Congruence is satisfying!

So loving is actually a gift we give to ourselves, and the other person sort of gets the fringe benefit of our affection, attention, acceptance, etc. It's often so much easier for us to feel the flow of love in our hearts when there's someone in front of us who meets our needs and we find adorable.

And it's possible to live as Love even when that's not happening.
More about that later ...

identity crisis

Had an interesting discussion in my women's group today, and my mind has been chewing on it ever since.

Who am I? What defines my identity?

Up until pretty recently, I knew exactly who I was. I defined myself within stable parameters: I was tall with long hair. I was a devoted mother. I was a lifelong learner. I was there for my friends. Yadda yadda yadda. I knew where I stood and what I stood for. I was predictable to myself. I was consistent.

But lately, for some mysterious reason, those walls have come down, and I never know for sure what I might do or say next. The long hair is gone, and I love that. One of my kids is gone and the other has one foot out the door, and it feels perfect. I still love learning, but I also love doing nothing, and I never know which one I'll prefer on any given day.

I am still usually there for my friends, unless I don't feel like it. Some days, when I am writing or hiking or reading a good book, I let my calls go to voice mail. I never used to do that before. I always answered. What if someone needed me?

At first it was sort of distressing, this identity crisis thing, but now I am really enjoying it. I feel free to change my mind. Free to honor my impulses in the moment. Free to make plans that might not happen. Free to break my own rules. Free from needing to be consistent.

Truth is, I don't really care who I am. And, to be uber-frank, I don't care all that much anymore who you think I am, either! Being someone seems highly overrated, and only gets in the way of living in the moment.

How ironic that the boundaries that used to define my identity were also a prison! I like life much better here on the outside.

fact or opinion?

Had lunch with a friend today, and we got to talking about our communication pet peeves. It's so much fun to talk with him, because he can listen to my ten minute meandering attempts to explain something, sit back for a second, and respond with a perfect encapsulation of my meaning in one sentence. I love when that happens!

He hit the nail right on the head with this one: Oh, you are talking about when people can't tell the difference between opinions and facts.

Here's an example: Someone says, "It's cold in here," and the other person says, "No, it's not!" and they go back and forth arguing, not realizing that 'cold' is actually an opinion!

A fact would be: "It's 60 degrees in here." From there, we can each share our experience of that - one can be cold, the other can be comfortable, and there's no need to argue, because we don't need to agree. We can simply respect each other's opinions and personal experiences.

Luckily, I rarely if ever hear this kind of exchange in my circle of close friends; they are an ultra self-aware and self-responsible bunch. I am far more likely to hear "I'm cold" than 'It's cold" from them.

But when I'm out in public and I overhear opinions stated as facts all over the place, it seems kind of amazing to me that people ever manage to understand each other. Right/wrong, good/bad, appropriate/inappropriate ... are all opinions!

And I do love talking in great depth about opinions. I usually find other people's opinions fascinating when they are different than mine. I enjoy hearing what led them to that conclusion, what experiences have contributed to the formation of their opinion, and I usually learn something new. But none of that is possible if they state their opinion as a fact. The conversation and process of getting to know each other just sort of comes to a dead end.

(LOL - here I am, just days after that last blog post of mine about not putting it in my pie, and I'm putting it in my pie! I write about what I most need to learn, see?)

Oh, wait, that reminds me of one more communication pet peeve -- might as well get 'em both off my chest in one post -- misunderstanding statistics and research studies. It doesn't seem to be common knowledge that correlation is not the same as causation.

Let's say you read in the newspaper that 7 out of 10 teenagers who attempted suicide had played a certain video game in the week before their attempt. All we can tell from this is that there's a correlation between the two activities. It does not prove that the game CAUSES suicidal behavior. For all we know, suicidal teens just happen to find that game especially appealing. Could be that suicidal thinking causes video game playing.

What difference does it make? Well, for one, people sometimes use what they think is research based information to override their intuition, inner guidance, or personal experimentation. i.e. I know I always feel great when I eat an egg for breakfast, but this study says eggs cause high cholesterol, so I'll have cereal instead. (Except that another study has shown that high cholesterol is actually related to eating refined grains and sugar! So now what do I eat?)

Another risk of misinterpreting statistics is that we could be barking up the wrong tree. Pulling video games off the shelves is not going to prevent 7 out of 10 teen suicides. When misinterpreted research tell us there's an identified cause for a problem that upsets us, society often invests heavily in that solution and closes off other possibilities.

So every time I hear anyone saying A causes B as if it is a fact, I am compelled to question it. And almost always, it's actually a correlation, not causation, that shows up in the research studies.

It's the ol' chicken and the egg dilemma. We may never know which came first. Which is fine with me! I'm much more interested in hearing the basis of your opinion than pointing out that the statistics don't actually verify your statement as fact.

Allright, that's enough of that! I'm heading to my real kitchen to make a real pie for my friend's birthday celebration tomorrow. Out with pet peeves, in with peaches!

recipe for a sweet life

My summer romance has recently come to completion, and I want to be intentional during the letting go process to make sure I have integrated the things from the relationship that I want to carry forward as well as released anything I don't wish to repeat.

So I spent a few hours hanging out on my favorite rock in the mountains today, and as soon as my mind finally stopped jumping around like a caffeinated preschooler, I was gifted with a whopper of an insight: Just don't put it in your pie!

Weird, right? Yeah, I thought so too when I first heard it on an Abraham-Hicks CD a while ago. Maybe a bit of background might help to put it into context.

Some of you have commented to me that my recent posts have been sort of fixated on the topics of judgment, criticism, and cynicism. True enough! Those are dynamics I haven't had a lot of experience dealing with in someone close to me until I became involved in this relationship.

So I would be sort of bewildered when he would say something like You shouldn't eat that before bed or You are too involved with your kids. I'm thrilled that I got to experience comments like this, though, because I learned about that little translator in my head that I wrote about before, which turned out to be really good at converting those You-Statements to I-Statements so I could decipher the loving intentions beneath them: I want you to sleep well tonight. I hope we can have some time alone soon.

Friends told me that my translator was all nice and good for now, but they didn't want me to have to use it forever. It became sort of automatic, or so I thought, so I wasn't really worried about it. Sometimes, my translator didn't work fast enough, and I'd respond defensively. I was so curious about those times that I did a lot of writing about it to try to understand and re-awaken my compassion. As you know, writing is good medicine for me.

Okay, now, back to the pie. Here's the metaphor a la Abe:

Life is like a big kitchen with millions of ingredients in the well-stocked pantry -- including flavors that some people savor and other people despise. There's sugar and salt, coconut and rhubarb, mincemeat and peaches, all right next to each other on the shelves. There's joy and anger, appreciation and cynicism, judgment and gratitude, war and peace.

We each enter into this well-stocked pantry intending to bake the pie that is our personal life experience. We add ingredients to our pie by paying attention to them. So every time I noticed his cynicism and tried to understand it, I was putting it in my pie! And I just could not understand why my pie tasted so funny, so I kept trying to add more compassion to sweeten it up.

So to me, Just don't put it in your pie means stop trying to understand it. Stop writing about it, stop thinking about it, stop trying to explain how I feel when hear it. Stop focusing on it! Just friggin' keep my eyes moving and turn my attention elsewhere.

Each person in front of me has numerous qualities I could focus on in any given moment -- some sweet, some bitter. It's not helpful to stand in the pantry looking at the rhubarb or the cynicism and think, Hey, what's that doing on the shelf? That shouldn't be here! Get that outta here. I don't want it to sour my sweet apple pie!

Just because I don't like how something tastes does not mean I have the need or the right to take it out of the pantry. To someone else, it could be a delicacy. It can't get into my pie unless I put it there, so it's okay to just let it be.

I still have a lot to learn about how to keep my attention focused only on what I want in my own pie. I keep peeking over at the mincemeat, thinking maybe I could just sneak a little bit of sugar in there and then it might not taste so bad if it happens to get into my pie.

And every time I look at it, a little bit of yucky meaty goo gets sprinkled onto my apples. But I'll get it figured out sooner or later, I'm sure. It's good that it tastes so bad, because that way, I notice it quicker.

too much

In the salon yesterday, while I was in the chair for 90 minutes getting my long hair chopped off, there was a woman who seemed to be a cancer survivor sitting behind me. Her stylist was in the middle of some family drama, and kept pausing to take calls on her cell phone.

Their conversation was exclusively focused on pain, suffering, and condemnation. I found myself wanting to jump out of my skin when the client started explaining in great detail the sensation of the 3 inch needle entering her neck for her latest biopsy. I tried everything I could think of to block out their voices.

I sang in my head, screamed in my head, chanted, listened to their voices like they were music, focused on the traffic noise, took deep breaths, and pretended none of the syllables had any meaning.

What did not occur to me until just this second, which suddenly seems so obvious I want to cry, was to start a conversation with my own stylist. She and I have a lovely connection, and since english is not her first language, and she's very soft spoken, we typically enjoy silence together. I never even considered drowning out their conversation with the sound of my own voice. That's kind of a fascinating glimpse into my inner victim consciousness, huh? LOL.

Anyway, no matter what I did, I could not tune them out. It felt like a relentless jack hammer on my heart and soul. I became absolutely desperate for it to stop, and was just coming to the conclusion that I may have to actually ask them to change the subject, which was excruciatingly painful to think about doing because it felt lame, disrespectful, and invasive, when another stylist showed up and starting talking. So I listened to his voice instead, and I made it through.

I left there feeling new empathy and respect for people who have conversations like that happening around them all day, every day, like my stylist, and people who work in office cubicles, and ... well, I guess LOTS of people are in this situation. It's been ages since I've felt stuck like that, and the feeling of powerlessness is horrible.

If I drank beer, I'd raise one right now and say, This Bud's for you! It's not that hard to feel good when you have control over your surroundings, as I do most of the time since I work for myself from home.

But holy smokes does it up the ante when you are sharing close quarters with jack hammers while striving for inner peace! Clearly I am not yet up for the challenge. And truthfully, I may never be, so I am grateful to be able to design my life to avoid that most of the time.

Here's to you who are out in the trenches, working to feel good in a soup of yuck. I salute your courage and strength.

rite n rong

Spent about an hour last night fully immersed in Abraham-Hicks quotes on the Sun Angel site, http://sun-angel.com/abraham/index.php. Must say I think the phrase Law of Attraction has been overused these days to the point that it's become cliche, but until I come up with a substitution I like better, I'll use it anyway.

Here's a bit of my surfing journey:

Everything is valid and everything is truthful, because Law of Attraction lets everything be. The question is not whether it's right or wrong, whether their approach is right or wrong, or whether my approach is right or wrong. The question is: Does their approach feel good to me? And if it doesn't, then I choose a different approach.

- Abraham-Hicks


I love this simple explanation of why truth is relative -- why what has indisputably worked for me or for you may not work at all for someone else, and why it doesn't matter anyway.

We each live in our own private universe of beliefs, hopes, dreams, and desires. No one life journey is exactly like another. We didn't start from the same place, and don't necessarily desire to travel the same path to the same "destination." So how can we truly know what is right for someone else? It can be a full time job just figuring out what works for our own selves.

Sorta reminds me of those testimonial pages on various nutritional supplement sites. This magic tea or little pill made me lose 48 lbs in only 5 weeks! And there are lots of dramatic before and after pictures to prove it. It's exciting to me to see people succeed in their endeavors, so I always get a kick out of scrolling through the photos and reading the stories.

It's also exciting to me when those pictures and stories inspire other people to leap over the mental hurdle of thinking it's not possible for them. Makes me wonder if perhaps the magic is even more in the hype than in the product itself. Could it be that to the extent that these ads manage to harness our belief in success, and bring us hope, and convince us others have indeed done what we want to do, some of our mental barriers drop away and we can progress?

As I was writing this, an email newsletter from an essential oil company whose products I love was delivered to my inbox. More testimonials! More inspiration from people who found something that helped them feel better! Woo hoo!

Except I also notice that sometimes, in my zeal to relieve what I perceive as suffering, I eagerly share my experience with someone, forgetting that it's only what has worked for me. I happen to love these oils, and a bunch of other products, and I seem to feel better when I use them. So what? That's nice for me, and may or may not be of any value to you at all!

So I've been playing a bit with this question: how can I respectfully share information based on my personal experience that could possibly be helpful to you without becoming invasive?

I have a few ideas so far. The first one came easy: Wait to share until I am asked. I might be too gregarious and enthusiastic to follow this guideline tho, so I better not rely on that alone! And what if you don't know that I have info to share, so you never ask? The concept of waiting intrigues me, however. Probably because it's so foreign to me!

The second idea was a reaction to the first: Just enjoy whatever I am doing that works for me and shut the frick up. That's actually super appealing to me, and probably not super likely, given my nature. But you never know. More and more these days I find I don't have much to say. (Except, of course, when I am writing, which feels different to me somehow because it's sort of one sided and you can just stop reading anytime, so it feels less like an imposition or something...)

The third option I borrowed from Motivational Interviewing, and it sort of combines the best of the first two while factoring in my personality. Ask permission first. Which might sound like, "Hey, you mentioned having a terrible headache today, and I found this stuff that really helps with my headaches. If you are interested in hearing about it, I'd be happy to share. Please let me know if there's anything I can do to help you feel better."

That option satisfies me on lots of levels. It's respectful of your process and timetable, does not make any claim that it will work for you, and does not imply that you should feel guilty if you'd rather not hear about it, yet satisfies my desire to contribute to your well being, rather than just standing by helplessly while you are in pain.

I like having options. I think I'll try them like this: Shut the frick up and enjoy doing what works for me, while remaining warm and receptive to requests for help or information. If the request doesn't come, I'll take a few breaths to make sure I am centered and my intention is pure, then I will ask permission to share.

Sounds good. I'm looking forward to experimenting with it. Hey, will you do me a favor? If you notice me getting overzealous with you, please let me know. Sometimes it's hard to catch these things from the inside ...

cutting it off

my hair, that is!!

after 25 years wearing the same simple style, it suddenly just didn't feel like me anymore. So I got gobs of hair chopped off today, and I love it! this grainy webcam pic is all I have until my daughter gets home. But you know how they blow dry and style it at the salon and it may never look the same again? Wanted to capture the moment ...

gained in translation

I recently spent some time with a dear friend who moved away ten years ago. Our sons are close in age, and both of us were new mothers and new in town when we first connected at a La Leche meeting almost 17 years ago.

We used to pop our baby boys into backpacks and tote them along the Boulder Creek Path for as long as they would tolerate it while we indulged in deeply philosophical discussions. She introduced me to Alan Watts and Tom Robbins. I introduced her to Conversations with God. My interactions with her have always been rich, stimulating, and thought-provoking. She's a real treasure in my life, and she brings out the best in me. (I love you, Diana!)

Anyway, as we explored the subject of cynicism while catching up on things, I overheard myself telling her that I've recently discovered the existence of a translator in my head that can transform criticism, judgment, and complaints into simple requests for love and attention.

I can't say that I am actually making use of it full-time quite yet, but I do notice that when the translator is turned on, I feel much warmer and happier and more satisfied with my life.

Theoretically, here's how it works:

Let's say someone who hasn't yet experienced the value of communicating with I-messages tells me, "You aren't listening."

When the translator is switched off, I might listen between the words and hear, in a condescending and icy tone: "There is something wrong with you." I might respond to this kind of message with defensiveness, confusion, or withdrawal.

With the translator on, I hear a small and plaintive voice pleading: "Will you pay more attention to me?" I may be able to grant this request and I may not, but either way I don't feel defensive, and I don't feel the urge to distance myself to avoid further attack. I can remain in contact and connection.

A Course in Miracles teaches that there are only two messages ever being communicated -- love, or a request for love. One response is appropriate for both messages -- offer love. This nifty translator makes even the most cloaked or obscure requests so clear that I feel compelled to respond with compassion.

So when I happen to notice the frozen rigidity of defensiveness in my body, I take a breath and intend to activate my translator. Sometimes it comes online right away, and other times it doesn't, and that's okay. I'm just happy to know it's there, and grateful for the opportunity to practice using it.

the importance of solitude

posted this recently on my other blog, www.advice-for-parents.com
thought you might enjoy it.

I'm a stressed-out stay at home mom of 3 kids (ages 9, 6 and 3) and feel exhausted. My patience is shorter than ever and I need some advice on how to recharge and be a better mom, which to me means being more patient, more willing to answer question after question, and finding more effective ways to deal with many parenting issues that come up each day.

On the day I received this email, I had gotten up early to enjoy several uninterrupted hours in the mountains, and was stunned at how much better I felt, even though I was already feeling pretty good before I went.

So ... for this mom, I have one word of advice.

Actually, three words:

Solitude is critical.

Raising kids is sort of like being devoured by small piranhas. They'll eat you alive one little bite at a time with their constant questions and requests and need for attention. And it's not their job to notice that we need a break and give it to us!

We need to take responsibility for realizing that we are burning out, and take care of ourselves by retreating into solitude. We don't have to go to a spa or get a massage or do anything exotic with that time. It's unbelievably refreshing just to be quiet; to finish a thought without interruption, to move at our natural pace, to let our minds and bodies settle into stillness, and to have no agenda except honoring our own impulses.

It doesn't even take that much time to recharge. A couple hours is usually enough for me. But those hours have to be absolutely mine -- no cell phone, no visits with friends, no paying bills or running errands, no accomplishing anything or being productive.

All else being equal, I like to get out of my house and into nature, preferably near some running water. The details don't really matter. What's important is that we all need time alone. Parents of young children need it even more than the rest of us, but often have a harder time finding it.

No parenting advice or technique will be helpful if you are too burned out to apply it. To instantly and organically improve your parenting, calm your mind and settle your soul by taking some time for yourself.

on defense

The more you defend yourself, the more you believe what you defend against. - Alan Cohen

So what's the alternative to defending yourself?

Let it be.

Take the input of the other party and go inside yourself. Consider what they have presented with an open mind. Capitalize on the opportunity to examine and clarify your own position, stance, or decision. If you need to update yourself, or to gather more information, or change your mind based on this new input, then do it.

There's no need to convince others to see it your way, unless you both enjoy that kind of banter and debate. Just let them be. They have given you a gift by disagreeing with you or presenting an opposing viewpoint. Something new will emerge at the intersection of your perspective and theirs. Watch for it, and turn your attention to nurturing the seedlings of creativity and clarity that sprout within every conflict of opinion.


On another note, here's a pic from my son's graduation from boot camp. It's been fantastic to have him home. Next week he reports for duty in Michigan.