love first

Have you seen that bumper sticker that says Love First?

It works as a reminder for me on multiple levels: Put love at top of the priority list. Love before you do or say anything else. Love yourself first. Wait until you feel love before doing or saying anything else.

The Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT), a self-administered acupressure technique that helps to restore disrupted energy patterns that impact our health and emotional well being, always starts with a setup phrase: Even though I ____, I deeply and completely love and accept myself and all of my feelings.

The blank can be filled in with anything; have this headache, feel this rage, this grief, this shame, this sore toe, or this jumping out of my skin feeling. The technique continues with several other steps, but I usually start feeling better after tapping on just this one phrase.

While I've been working through some personal issues these past few days, I've been trying to pay close attention to what is happening to see if I can figure out what is causing my suffering. (The word suffering is overly dramatic there - it's more like mild angst. But it still bugs me.)

It seems to go like this: an outer circumstance or piece of information triggers enters my awareness. It triggers a reaction in me depending on where it lands and how sensitive that territory is already. If it's a reaction I'm okay with, it passes through me pretty quickly and is gone.

If I am NOT okay with my reaction - if I judge it as inappropriate or unacceptable in some way, I compound the original reaction with self-recrimination, and the whole thing starts snowballing. Feeling bad about feeling bad about feeling bad ... well, you get the idea.

What seems to interrupt the snowball effect is that EFT phrase: Even though I am not proud of how I am feeling right now, I deeply and completely love and accept myself and all my feelings.

It might even be a bald-faced lie at the moment, because I'm probably NOT accepting all my feelings, but that's okay. It still works, because saying this reminds me that it is possible. It's like programming my inner GPS with a destination. I may not already be there, but at least I know which direction to go.

gotta dash, may write more later. EFT is easy to learn, and if you are interested, there are tons of free tutorials at www.emofree.com.

deciding, 2

My no outcome, no future, just yes or no in the moment experiment is being put to a tough test right now.

Yesterday my daughter and her friend wanted to go to the mall. Normally, I just take a break from whatever I'm doing and drive them, but yesterday, I didn't want to.

I double checked internally - is this a firm No or can it be shifted? It was firm. So I told her I didn't want to drive, and suggested maybe it was a good day for them to learn how to take the city bus.

We got online and checked the maps and schedule. The stop is only a block from our house, so that was easy. We had driven past the stop at the mall many times, so that was easy, too. They set off a bit nervously, exact change in hand, and planned to be back by seven. I returned to my project.

At six, she texted me to ask if I would just pick them up. I checked in with myself again - yes or no? Still No. I told her I still didn't want to drive, and asked if she could dig deep and just take the bus back home.

At 6:30, my phone rang. "He dropped us off in the middle of nowhere." I feel panic rising up in my throat, but I keep my voice low and calm. "Okay, honey, look around. What do you see?" We quickly determine that they took the southbound, not the northbound, and have ended up at the Park 'n Ride the next town over.

She wants me to come pick them up. I check in with myself a third time, and am somewhat dismayed to find it is STILL a No. Part of me says maybe it's important not to rush to her rescue; that she will gain confidence by figuring out how to use the bus system to get home.

So, mustering every ounce of maternal determination, I tell her I will try, by phone, to help her read the schedule that is posted at the bus stop. She is angry and scared, and I can tell she's on the verge of tears. I convey my confidence that they can figure this out, and she hangs up before I've quite finished my last sentence.

I texted her fifteen minutes later to see if they'd made it onto a bus, and received a terse Yes in response. When they finally arrived at home, I was on the phone with a client. My daughter grabbed her sleepover stuff and left before I could connect with her, so I called to see how it went.

A narrative of public transportation hell followed:

- Three different busdrivers had been too annoyed or busy to help them, and she and her friend did not know who else to trust.

- A group of older men remained at the stop in the middle of nowhere after everyone else had left, and sat there smoking and leering at them. She and her friend were trying to figure out where they would run to if they needed to escape, and decided there was nowhere to go.

- When the bus finally came, the girls jumped on with relief and the driver promptly exited to take a ten minute break, leaving them alone with a mentally ill woman who sat across from them saying things like, "There's no food in the house, so we'll have to kill Anne's mother." I must admit I was kinda impressed with this woman's resourcefulness, but my daughter was not amused. Instead she broke down into tears as she was telling me about it and sobbed, "Mom, it was all just too much for me. I never want to ride the bus again. I wish you would have just come and picked us up when I asked you."

Ouch. I heard the voice of guilt, muttering and pacing near the door of my heart, waiting for an invitation to come in. Why didn't you just go get them? Look what your laziness caused! You should have known they were too young to handle this. What if they'd been kidnapped or raped? What kind of mother are you? You left them out there alone and scared! They were easy prey!

I checked back over the preceding events, asking myself if I had ignored any inner promptings that told me to go pick them up, and I truly had not. I had played my part, reading only the lines that were in my heart in each moment, and since I did not have access to the whole script, I do not know why it needed to go that way or what greater purpose it served.

So maybe after sleeping on it, my daughter and her friend will find the humor in the situation. Maybe the fear of what could have happened will dissipate a bit and they will feel some confidence in how they handled things.

Or maybe they will be furious and blame the whole mess on me because I did not pick them up! I don't know, and that's okay, because I don't need to know. I feel strangely confident that I can navigate it as it comes up, and it will all turn out okay in the end. I wonder if maybe this is how it feels to trust Life?

postscript, 3 pm: just finally connected with my daughter today, and asked if she had recovered. she said in the most casual way - Mom, it's almost like it never even happened. It was so bad yesterday, and today, it's nothing. But I'm still not excited about riding the bus. Thank goodness she seems to have inherited my selective memory! So it all did turn out okay in the end. Plus, my colleague gave me some great suggestions for how to debrief the girls in a way that helps them to give themselves proper credit for how resourceful they were under stress. It's all good.

in love

have you ever had the experience of hearing a word or phrase that you've heard a thousand times before, and suddenly, a new meaning reveals itself to you?

that kind of ah-ha moment happened this morning. As my consciousness started awakening, I noticed myself feeling blissfully comfortable and content. I sort of lazily wondered why that was, and a voice in my head said, "Because I'm in love."

In the blink of an eye, I understood that at a whole new level: Love is like a river flowing through my being, and I can float in it or sit on the bank watching it go by. It's not that either one is better than the other; there's a time and a place for each. Sometimes it feels nice to dry off and sun myself for a few minutes on the shore. But usually, I like to be fully immersed.

I wonder if maybe our culture is misunderstanding things a bit when we say we are in love with someone else. Maybe it's just that as we hold the object of our affection in our attention; as we think of them fondly and focus on the good things about them, we are stepping into the river of our own well being. Thinking kind and positive thoughts about other people, ourselves, or even our pets, locates us in the vibration of love.

Listen to the radio for a few minutes and you'll hear plenty of cultural messages that tell us love is about the other person. Don't take your love away from me, How do I live without you, You're my everything, You're the one. You, you, you. No wonder many of us get so freaked out when the other person leaves or changes their mind about us! We've been taught to locate the source of love in someone else, or in the relationship, instead of in ourselves.

Maybe the truth is that we love how we feel when we are loving. That's not quite as specific and personal as we might wish it to be - it means love is portable. We may notice that in the presence of certain packages of qualities, or certain physical chemistries, it is easier for us to step into our own rivers of well being. And that's very nice, especially when it's mutual.

But maybe that's all the other person really is -- a catalyst. No one else can take us there. We step into Love on our own volition.

deciding

I jotted down these notes on a scrap of paper so I could flesh it out into an article when I had time. When I came back to it, it sounded kind of like a poem to me, and I didn't feel like adding anything else.

Decisions

No future.
No outcome.

Simply

yes or no
in each moment.

Then let it go.

The next moment
is already here.

what's playing in my head today

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7zN9vd9WUiA

Drive
by Incubus

love these lyrics!!

oh! I just found an acoustic version that's even better!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RpwsuhOUAkk&feature=related

soul medicine from Hafiz

Now is the Time

Now is the time to know
That all that you do is sacred.

Now, why not consider
A lasting truce with yourself and God.

Now is the time to understand
That all your ideas of right and wrong
Were just a child's training wheels
To be laid aside
When you finally live
With veracity
And love.

Hafiz is a divine envoy
Whom the Beloved
Has written a holy message upon.

My dear, please tell me,
Why do you still
Throw sticks at your heart
And God?

What is it in that sweet voice inside
That incites you to fear?

Now is the time for the world to know
That every thought and action is sacred.

This is the time for you to compute the impossibility
That there is anything
But Grace.

Now is the season to know
That everything you do
Is sacred.

from The Gift - Poems by Hafiz the Great Sufi Master
translations by Daniel Ladinsky

This poem is medicinal for me. Since being rear-ended in February, I have been making many more "mistakes" than ever before in my life, and sometimes I feel so frustrated and embarrassed - strong reactions that are sort of foreign to me.

Back when I was in school I was always a straight A student, and I grew accustomed to trying hard, doing well, and being commended for it. Now, these temporary cognitive issues have me making errors I don't even notice.

I occasionally start typing the next word in the middle of the word I'm on, use the wrong words completely (that instead of the) or the wrong form of the word (plural when I meant singular.)

What's worse, for me, is that I don't catch my errors. The little flag that used to signal an error upon proofreading seems to have changed to the same color as the background, and I often don't see it at all.

Since the accident did not impact my desire to understand every little thing, I've been observing myself. I've identified three major kinds of mistakes so far:

- minor glitches that I don't even notice until someone else points them out to me (like missing a digit while writing a check and ending up paying interest on a bill I thought was fully paid up)

- things I try to do well and fall short on (like trying to make muffins and burning them because I forget to set the timer)

- actions that spring from deliberately good intentions but do not turn out as planned (like writing an email to commend someone that ends up being circulated and results in others feeling like their hard work has gone unrecognized)

Each seems to trigger its own flavor of ego pain in me. The minor glitches are just embarrassing, and painful in a way that is clearly out of proportion to the offense. I think that's because my long-held identity as a smart, competent, and reliable person is being chipped away one flake at a time, and because this kind of mistake happened only very rarely before the accident. But I get over those fairly quickly. It helps that most often I can take them off the books by fixing them.

Trying and falling short is a bit more embarrassing, and my mind often wants to react with some kind of contraction - like don't stick your neck out again! Only do what you can do perfectly. These, too, were somewhat rare before the accident, since I am typically pretty deliberate in my actions. But it's not too terrible to deal with, because I value expansion, and I know it requires pushing my limits, and I accept that as risky work but worth it.

The third kind --good intentions that don't turn out as planned or appear to cause harm -- well, that one really sucks. I almost always cry when the unintended consequences of my actions are brought to my attention, and my heart sinks right into my stomach. Usually these are the kind of mistake that I cannot fix, and cannot take back. They've gone out into the world and have a life of their own.

This kind of mistake had happened before the accident a handful of times in my life, and I vividly remember each of them.

Another one happened yesterday, which is why I went in search of that poem. It helps for me to think that what appears to be a terrible mistake might actually be just one thread of a larger tapestry. Takes the pressure off, and opens my little ego to the reality that there's more than me here, and that I don't know it all.

Funny how needing to know it all can lead to such feelings of false competence and satisfaction, which then can be so easily yanked out like a carpet beneath my feet. Painful as it is, I am grateful for the opportunity to find something more solid than knowledge, competence or good outcomes to stand upon.

happy virus

after my moments of personal angst have come and gone, I settle in once more to my natural state of being, which Hafiz perfectly expresses for me here:


The Happy Virus

I caught the happy virus last night

When I was out singing beneath the stars.

It is remarkably contagious -

So kiss me.



from The Subject Tonight Is Love - 60 Wild and Sweet Poems of Hafiz

translations by Daniel Ladinsky

in tune with service

Your greatest value to others is when you are joyful. Your greatest value to others is when you are connected. Your greatest value to others is to be radiantly healthy. Your greatest value to others is when you are happy. Your greatest value to others is to have and to be and do all the things that are very important to you.

And as you are living that and vibrating that and oozing that and radiating that - then you are a catalyst that is inspiring others to an awareness of that.

~ Abraham-Hicks

I notice they said "catalyst" for others, not a force. The image I use to remind myself of this is a tuning fork. If you were to attempt to get a tuning fork to sing by hitting it with another one, their vibrations would cancel each other out. Each can only sing if it has space to move freely without inhibition from the other.

The way to inspire someone to joy, if you so desire, is to be unabashedly joyful in their presence . If any part of them also desires to feel joyful, it will effortlessly begin to resonate with your example.

To inspire honesty, be truthful. To inspire trust, be vulnerable. Strike your own fork first, and let your song ring out clear and true. Those who naturally resonate with you will soon add their voices to yours, and together, you will sing your world to life.

let it grow

got up early this am and was out on the trail by 7:20. I was aiming for the sunrise, but that didn't quite happen. it was a spectacular day, and I did my favorite kind of hiking -- walking slowly from big rock to big rock, covering very little ground, and spending the better part of 2 hours sitting and soaking up the sights and smells and sounds as the sun warmed my body from above and the rock cooled it from below.

it's a treat to move that slowly and aimlessly, and my mind usually quiets right down. thoughts of planning are replaced by thoughts of appreciation, and concepts that had been lodged in my mind often percolate down into my heart.

today I was pondering manifestation. Abraham-Hicks, The Secret, Napoleon Hill, and many many others have taught us that there are three steps - Ask, Let It Go, and Receive/Allow. As I walked along, I found myself thinking, "Oh, I should use this time to get clear about what I want next." I laughed out loud at the absurdity of spending this gorgeous day lost in my thoughts. And it hit me like a lightning bolt that I have been investing far more energy than is truly necessary in the Asking part.

In fact, I may have gotten so specific in my requests that I am actually being counter productive. So a new experiment was born in me. What if I just assume that I am already constantly asking, and instead put my energy and focus into the other two steps? I've heard Abraham-Hicks suggest this dozens of times. And today, I got it.

If I ask for a feeling, rather than the material details, it's just like placing an order at a restaurant. I don't need to go into the kitchen and supervise the cook - I can sit out in the clean and quiet dining room and enjoy myself with friends while my meal is prepared for me.

Almost everything I've ever wanted has eventually arrived - usually after I forgot about it. So I decided to let go of asking, and instead just enjoy what is here now, while assuming that more good things I will like are on their way.

And when I got back in the car, this song was playing on the radio:

http://www.last.fm/music/Eric+Clapton/_/Let+It+Grow

heard from my son at boot camp

thought you might want to know that the very highly anticipated first postcard arrived today. he said it's crazy, but worth it, and he misses us. my motherly heart is so much more at peace now.

thank goodness for the US Postal Service, which can bring such relief for less than 50 cents, and the kindly mail carrier who never once made fun of me for bolting out to the mailbox the second she drove up every day.

oh, and not only that, but in the same batch of mail was the most outrageously luscious bracelet - a gift from my friend Debra at blissmonger.com. You gotta check out her jewelry - I'm trying to figure out if I can sleep in this thing because it's just so dang satisfying to look at it. http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5774840

:)

stepping

been getting the same message from all quadrants lately. Eckhart Tolle encapsulates it well:

Your entire life journey ultimately consists of the step you are taking at this moment.

It can be so tempting to look ahead or behind me for a reference point about where I am. My self-generated challenge lately has been to look within me instead -- to pay attention my inner guidance, which shows itself using a myriad of physical sensations; expansion/contraction, warmth/coolness, pleasure/discomfort, and opening/closing.

Sometimes it's hard to immerse my body and mind fully in the present step. I want to zoom ahead and ruminate about where this step is leading -- to predict the destination to see if I like it or not. Yes, I know the destination is never guaranteed. Intellectually, I realize this. But the part of me that really likes security still wants to scan and plan for desired outcomes.

Seems with each passing day this habit becomes less and less ingrained. I am so grateful for all the teachers and mentors who have helped me figure out what to do instead. Now when I notice the anxious feeling that tells me my mind is spinning off into the future, I remember that it just needs something better to do; kind of like a little kid who gets bored while his mom is visiting with a friend and starts digging into cabinets and underneath things in an attempt to find something interesting or entertaining.

My mind is stopped cold in its obsessive tracks if I give it a body-related task. So I've started telling it to scan and identify the points of greatest pressure. If I am standing, I tell it to discover how my weight is distributed on my feet.

My cranial therapist also taught me to try to feel my fourth toe on the floor - the one next to the pinkie. For me, doing this takes almost all of my attention; I can't hold anything else in my consciousness at the same time. And something funny happens if I try to resume my obsessive thinking after that - I just can't find my way back! It's like the trail has been erased. I love that.

swimming

listened to the June Abraham-Hicks CD this morning, and felt like they were talking directly to me. I've been swimming in grace again lately, after forgetting for a while that I could dip into that pool anytime I wanted to. Now that I say that, I wonder if it it is true that I forgot, really. It feels like more of a natural sort of rhythm, like the in breath and out breath. Forgetting is really not any better than remembering ... it's just part of the cycle. So it's okay.

Anyway, my neck and shoulders are still wracked from being rear-ended, but the therapists that are working with me are simply amazing, and I know I am in good hands. Opportunities for personal and professional expansion are everywhere I look, and what's super cool that I'm really grateful for is that I seem to be able to feel through the many gifts I have been given lately and tap into the Benevolent Giver that is the source of them all.

So when I hear the perfect song on the radio, I know it's not that I need to listen to that station or DJ forever -- they were just the vehicle through which the gift was delivered to me at that moment. And rather than fixating on the packaging, I've been able to enjoy the essence of the gift with gratitude, without grasping on to it, because I know that the Source of all these gifts has infinite delivery methods at its disposal. Not that there's anything wrong with grasping - it's all okay. It's just that this level of detachment and trust is a new and cool thing for me.

Oh, and you all, dear readers, are part of the delivery system! For the first time since I started blogging, I am now aware that people are coming here looking to see if I've written anything. And while that doesn't change the fact that sometimes I have nothing to say (or I'd rather be out at the pool than in here at my keyboard), it does inspire me to check in with myself more often to see if anything wants to come forth. So hey, thanks for being my muses!

bonus summer dvd rental recommendation: Lars and the Real Girl. it was wacky and sweet and out there, and a touching illustration of the internal joy that results from loving others as well as giving them the benefit of the doubt. I enjoyed it immensely.

cloud games

crikey I'm a prolific blogger today!

I just wrote this to a client, and I liked it, so I wanted to store it up for myself 'cause I bet I will need the reminder later. She's having some strong feelings coming up, and wondered out loud what she "should think about them":

If you can, don't bother thinking anything about them. It would be just about as pointless as analyzing the shape of the clouds. They are moving and shifting so fast that there's not really any reason to identify or discuss them other than for entertainment. It's unlikely that useful or redeeming conclusions will come from the endeavor.

See if you can invite your attention back to the physical - the ground under your feet, the heat of the sun on your face, the smell of the air, the subtle coolness where it enters your nose. Feeling for those sensations is a good antidote to spinning around in your mind.

gee-tar

could I be the only person on the planet who did not know that you could take guitar lessons on youtube? thank you, anonymous commentary person. your name will go down in infamy with my neighbors for giving me the link to Here Comes the Sun, which led me in two clicks to a much easier starter song, Breathe by Anna Nalick, which I will now play obsessively until my fingers bleed or someone yells at my window to shut up, whichever comes first.

Here's my youtube teacher for today. He's exactly my speed. This is so exciting! Now I can play two tunes, Other Side of the World by KT Tunstall, and this one. woo hoo!

http://youtube.com/watch?v=xPlWlemhAQQ&feature=related

inspired aging

I volunteer with the Boulder County Respite Care team, which matches community members with seniors who for various reasons have requested a friendly, helpful, weekly visitor. My current buddy is a beautiful 93 year old woman, and I eagerly look forward to seeing her each week.

Ours is truly a match made in heaven. She's feisty and independent and in excellent health, and her mind is sharp as a tack. The only thing she needs any help with is reading, because of her macular degeneration. So every week, I read to her from her Science of Mind publications, and we talk about concepts like energy follows attention and our thoughts create our experiences.


I am still in awe at the perfect synergy of our friendship. I was not familiar with Science of Mind or New Thought before I started reading to her - or more accurately, I was very familiar with the principles but did not know they were covered under that umbrella. I can hardly believe my good fortune that I get to spend two uninterrupted hours every week reading aloud the very concepts I most enjoy hearing. Adelle's radiant eyes and enraptured smile sweeten my joy into pure bliss.

She inspires me in so many ways. She's got a dental surgery coming up, and she's worried about it. And even as she is telling me this, she stops mid-sentence to rephrase: "And I am really looking forward to having it over with!"

Her upbringing was very strictly religious -- the kind of Catholicism that says God is always watching and you will never be good enough to satisfy him. Around the age of 65 she started hearing a brief five minute reading on the radio every morning as she got dressed that was like a soothing balm to her soul, which had always been deeply burdened by feelings of unworthiness.

Five minutes at a time, day after day, her burden was slowly penetratedby rays of light and awareness, until it became porous. Finally, she went in search of the local Science of Mind center that was sponsoring the radio segment, and started attending services regularly.

This magical transformation started at age 65. Sixty-five!! For 65 years she thought she was worthless. For her entire working life, she hid in the back of the office, never drawing attention to herself, feeling disposable, feeling afraid her unworthiness would be exposed to all. At her retirement party, even as she accepted the farewells and good wishes, she told herself that actually, they were glad to be rid of her.


When she was telling me this story, I noticed a tiny twinkle in her eye and a flicker of a smile cross her lips. I asked her why, and she said it's because the idea of being unworthy is just so impossibly funny to her now.

Recently, a friend of hers became upset with her for unknown reasons. Adelle told me that at first she felt sad and puzzled and worried that this friendship that she valued so much might be in jeopardy.

And then, just a moment's pause later, Adelle's face opened up into the most radiant smile. She told me that after just a little bit of sadness, she started remembering all the good times she had shared with her friend, and how much she had loved her for all these years, and her heart just opened up. She now feels compassion for whatever pain this misunderstanding must have triggered in her friend, and she said, "There must be something bigger going on that just hasn't been revealed to me yet. I just love my friend so much, and I'm sure this will all turn out okay."

Isn't she amazing? At an age when so many humans are closing down, she continues to open her awareness and compassionate heart wider with each passing day. She compliments me and thanks me for being in her life every time I am with her, and I tell her, "Honey, I'm not sure which one of us is actually the volunteer here!" It's an honor and a privilege to spend time with a being that is so devoted to growth and truth. She is expanding my vision about what is possible as we age. The body may diminish, but love and wisdom need never fade.

dust to dust

You know how sometimes in the movies a character gets obliterated but you can't really tell until a breeze comes along and scatters the million particles of him to the wind? I feel like that tonight.

What once felt solid -- my principles, my wishes, my dreams, my identities, my body, all the ways I know myself to be Me -- seems to be eroding away. I hear that's a good thing, but so far it just feels weird.

If someone asks me what I think or feel or stand for, it's hard to find an answer that feels true. It feels almost silly to talk, because nothing I can say feels accurate. It's become very challenging to represent myself.

I think I've gone through this before, and if memory serves me, it's temporary. Eventually I will probably pretend to be someone again -- someone with ideas and values who can participate in discussions. But until then, I feel kinda quiet. I'd rather just sit in the sun, listen to the wind, or feel the vibration of the guitar strings on my body while I try to teach myself some chords.

I still find it very satisfying to write about my experiences, in the way that I imagine a sculptor feels satisfaction from molding the block of clay until it becomes congruent with his vision. Sometimes my experiences will resonate with other folks, but I think that's just accidental. I write near you, but not really with you or for you. And none of what I say is actually true.

Just wanted to be honest with you. But you probably knew all that already ...

the consciousness of loving

It is not a past time, event, or relationship you yearn for. It the consciousness you held about it. Return to that consciousness, and you will create new experiences equal to or better than those you left behind.

- Alan Cohen


Excellent timing on this daily quote from Alan Cohen. I've been noticing this very thing lately.

This is the longest I've ever gone without a man in my daily life. I've been in a self-induced hibernation since Kevin and I split up in February. Did my little two day stint on match.com, noticed I felt crappy about it, and haven't put myself 'out there' since. I have enjoyed focusing on selling my house, settling in to my new place, and spending plenty of time with my son before he shipped off to boot camp.

I also wanted to take some time to observe myself as a single person. I had thought that maybe I would miss being loved. And I do, to some degree, but what I miss even more is how wonderful it feels to love. Of course I can and do love the flowers and the rain and the earth and my children and my friends and myself. What I find myself longing for is the deeply satisfying, no holds barred, totally surrendered kind of loving that so far I have only experienced and expressed within an intimate relationship.

So my solo experiment will continue until a man steps forward who wants to expand the exploration with me. In the meantime I'm perfectly fascinated by checking out what it feels like to open up as much to the sun as I would to a lover. Or to enjoy the wind on my skin as if it were a caress, and to walk on the earth as if I am massaging its back.

I think it could be possible to open up my consciousness of loving so widely that it almost doesn't matter if there is any personal receiver. It will be interesting to find out ...

feelings ... nothing more than feelings

In my previous post I wrote about the big crying jag I had the day my son left for the Coast Guard. Even as I was sobbing I was thinking to myself, "Gee, this is strangely overreactive." Then, as quick as it started, it left, and the same thoughts and songs and memories that had me choking back the tears moments earlier became just sort of ... well ... uninteresting.

So here's what I am wondering. What the heck ARE feelings, anyway? I used to think they were messages or indicators or at the very least, Important. Now, I'm not sure they matter at all. They seem to change whether I feel them fully or try to distract myself from them, talk about them or don't, dig underneath them or leave 'em alone.

Maybe feelings are no more personal than the weather. If it's rainy, we carry an umbrella and know it will eventually stop. If we're teary, we can stock up on kleenex and know that we, too, will eventually dry up.

I don't think I learned anything, grew in any way, or became a better person from the experience. I just cried. Until I stopped, and then I did something else. So what?

Here in Colorado where I live, we have a saying: If you don't like the weather, wait 5 minutes. It will change.

Don't like the feeling? No worries. It won't be around for long. If I can just buy myself some time so I don't have to act or make a major decision during the peak of intensity, no harm will come of it. No reason to feel bad about feeling bad.

What's ironic is that the more I realize this is true, the more I start to sort of enjoy ALL my feelings. They are so freakin' temporary ... like partners in a circle dance. I may as well have fun with them before they move along.

a mother's heart

I took my 17 year old son to join the Coast Guard tonight. That's him and me and my daughter at his graduation a couple weeks ago.

It surprises me that hours later, I am still crying. I thought I'd just say goodbye and turn my attention to the next thing. I know he is prepared. We were all prepared. I knew this day was coming for months in advance. Years, really.

I willingly signed the papers that allowed him to join before age 18. So it should have been no big deal, right?

Ha. Right. I never knew I had so many tears in me. I can't quite explain what is going on behind the waterworks - it feels like some kind of primal maternal grief. It makes no sense, but that doesn't seem to matter.

My boy is now a man.

My role has changed forever.

And I will miss him. That goofy earnest grin, thumping down the stairs on that impossibly noisy body. The pocket knives being snapped open and closed ad infinitum. The overly technical explanations of all things computer that I could hardly understand a word of.

The Coast Guard will be so lucky to have him. Ever since he was a little guy, he was always willing to drop anything to help someone. We moved a few weeks ago, during the time that he was preparing his final presentation for his high school graduation. Nevertheless, he provided solo tech support and heavy lifting for me and his sister. He had so many tasks of his own to complete, but the second he got wind of the teensiest curse emanating from the vicinity of my desk, he was at my side, ready to assist.

It seems like yesterday that I first looked into his newborn eyes and was shocked to realize that there was someone already in there, not just an empty vessel waiting to be filled. I can't believe 17 years could possibly have passed since then. They have been wonderful years, truly. I love my son with all my heart, and I could not be prouder of the man he has made of himself.

I know I have said this before, but perhaps it bears repeating. The active parenting years fly by. Few of us, parent and child alike, will remember the details. But your children will remember some things after they are grown: things like whether you approved of them, trusted in them, or gave them the benefit of the doubt.

They will remember whether you had confidence in them or not, and whether you saw their good intentions. They will remember if it was safe to tell you everything. They will remember the tone of your voice.

In fact, it's entirely possible that not only will our children remember the tone of our voices, but they may even hear our words to them repeated in their own minds for many years after they have left our care.

So today, while your kids are young and making so many mistakes as they figure out how things work, please be aware of how you speak to them. You still have time to make sure that when they leave your nest, you will feel good about the inner parent they have created from your example. And while you may still cry as they walk confidently away, your tears will be those of pure and simple sadness, untainted by regret.

And how interesting that as I write these words, my tears have finally stopped. For truly, I have no regrets. For this I can thank the many excellent authors and mentors who graced my parenting journey with the wisdom of their experience, as well as my own mother, who so gracefully continues to be the source of a parenting template based on unconditional love and respect.

Oh, and I can also thank my very shoddy and selective memory, since it has not stored up anything I am ashamed of for me to remember. Except that one time, when he was a toddler and in a very defiant phase, when I snapped and swatted his bottom. I felt terrible - that look in his eyes was devastating. Until that moment, he had trusted me implicitly. For the first time that day, I saw him fear me. Ouchie.

If you find some memories that you regret, too, it's never too late to make amends. Tell your child of any age what happened, how you feel about what you did, and what you wish you had done instead. Ask about their memories, their feelings, and their experiences related to that. Ask for their forgiveness, and forgive yourself. Then move on. We are all doing the best we can in any given moment.

Goodbye T. Good luck (even though you won't need it.)

It's time for you to fly.

postscript: what a difference 24 hours makes! there's something magical for me about expressing my feelings in writing. once I have fine tuned the words so that they feel like the exact expression of my feelings, the feelings themselves seem to dissipate. maybe the ink holds them instead of my heart -- I dunno. What I do know is that I felt immeasurably better when I went to bed last night, and the trend has continued. So in a way, the words above are already lies, because my experience has changed. But I'll leave them here anyway, in case they resonate with someone else someday.

who did it?

strangest thing - I have had unbelievably long TO DO lists for several months now. And in the past week or so, I've noticed that things on the list keep getting done without me actually trying to do them.

For example, this morning I had a million things to do and a major deadline to meet. Yet I simply could not make myself stay at my desk one second longer -- I just HAD to get out for a walk in the sunshine. I goofed off with a girlfriend all morning, went to my son's graduation party at the bowling alley this afternoon, and then went shopping with my daughter.

Now here it is 11:30 pm, and I realize that today I have done 6 loads of laundry, completed the two reports that aren't due until tomorrow, scraped the fresh asphalt off of my tire treads with a nutmeat picker, seen the three baby great horned owlets that are living in the park nearby, and unpacked a whole bunch of stuff. How did that happen? I dunno.

But it reminds me of a Zen saying: The wise man does nothing, yet everything gets done. Wait, is that Zen or Taoist? Whatever. I can't take any credit for being wise, but it's a pretty cool feeling to watch things unfold on their own like this. I could get used to that, for sure.

reality

The only reality is LOVE. Everything else is what you make of it.

- alan cohen

When I pondered on this, I came up with some additional refinements that helped me understand it more deeply for myself:

Everything else is exactly what I make of it and only what I make of it.

And what I make of it is nothing more and nothing less than a reflection of my own thoughts and beliefs. LOVE is not just the only reality, it's also the only truth.

So if I see something other than love, like deception, attack, or guilt, then I am looking through distorted lenses. My work then is to polish or correct my personal lens, not to try to fix that which I see or blame any circumstance or person 'out there' for my painful interpretation.

the most painful question

I've been hearing it everywhere the past few days, so there's no escaping it. Here it is:

What's wrong with me?

I got fired ... what's wrong with me?
My boyfriend broke up with me ... what's wrong with me?
My teacher yelled at me ... what's wrong with me?
My friend told me she didn't like something I did ... what's wrong with me?
My back hurts ... what's wrong with me?

Seems to me that the question What's wrong with me? is far more painful than the things preceding it. The underlying presumption is that if nothing was wrong with us, everything would be just the way we want it to be. If there was nothing wrong with me, I'd still have a job. If there was nothing wrong with me, she wouldn't say that. If there was nothing wrong with me, I would not be in pain.

But is that really true? Can we be absolutely positive that things aren't going the way we planned because there's something wrong with us? Could there possibly be other factors at play?

Without the pain that stems from thinking something is fundamentally wrong with us, the loss of a job or a relationship becomes an opportunity for an upgrade. Pain becomes an opportunity for awareness. Disapproval becomes an opportunity for more deeply accepting ourselves.

A flipside of the same question is What's wrong with them? Makes me think of the words to that song by Dave Mason, "There ain't no good guys, there ain't no bad guys, there's only you and me and we just disagree." Nothing has to be wrong with us or them. We are separate individuals with our own histories, perspectives, and beliefs. Of course we see some things differently.

My son has been attending the Conference on World Affairs on the CU campus this week, and apparently there have been a lot of very heated arguments about opinions. I guess that's fine as long as the debate is fun for both parties, but it also seems kind of futile to me. If I don't think there's something wrong with me or you, I am fine with you having a different opinion, and have no need to convince you to see it my way.

Without the need to answer that painful question, and we have many more resources to invest in understanding each other.

he's leaving the nest

to read my thoughts about my son getting ready to graduate and enlist, click here to go to my other blog, http://www.advice-for-parents.com/2008/03/hes-leaving-nest.html

selling my house

I decided to sell my house, so I'm busy being a white tornado. I want to leave it looking wonderful for the next owners to enjoy. So I may not be writing much for a little while!

if you know anyone who's looking for a nice family home in Louisville, CO, send them over to my listing at Zillow.com:

http://www.zillow.com/HomeDetails.htm?zprop=13215495

the nudge

I got rear-ended in a minor fender bender last week. My car had only the teensiest bit of damage, but it's amazing how strongly my neck is reacting to that little love tap!

I've been blessed with good people at every stage of the process. The woman who hit me was compassionate and kind, and sent me to her massage therapist the very next day. He is nothing short of a miracle worker with magic hands, and I instantly pledged my unmitigated devotion and became a client for life. (If you live anywhere near Louisville, CO, I'd urge you call him immediately, except that I hope he doesn't get so busy that I can't see him when I want to! Jeremy at Louisville Massage Center, downtown on Main St. 303 665 2563)

The claims adjuster has been nothing but helpful, and my chiropracter is working with her to bill them directly. (Since I'm on a referring roll today: Dr. Joel Fry at Elite Chiropractic) So it's all been virtually seamless.

It's funny, I know some folks who would think having an accident meant they were somehow vibrationally out of alignment. They might look for metaphorical significance in it; take it as a sign of something needing to be fixed in their lives.

But I'm getting a kick out of a very different interpretation - that the accident is nothing more and nothing less than an opportunity to connect with myself and my fellow earthmates in new and interesting ways. Exactly the same kind of opportunity that comes my way every day -- in line at the grocery store, or with the person who bumps into me in a crowd. Wait .... there's a song about this! .... oh yeah! Peter Gabriel. The time I like is the rush hour, cos I like the rush. The pushing of the people - I like it all so much. Such a mass of motion - do not know where it goes. I move with the movement and ... I have the touch.

Well, I bet that will be playing in my head for hours now, if not days. But earlier today I found myself repeating the phrase I read in an article a long time ago by Alan Cohen:

Thank you for everything. I have no complaint whatsoever.

And it was true. Ahh, the grace of it all!

today's journey (so far)

started with my friend debra's blog ...
http://reachdabbleshine.typepad.com/28yearslater/

.... where I read about Joan Tollifson, who I then googled and enjoyed immensely ...
http://home.earthlink.net/~wakeupjt/rcommndd.htm

... and on her recommended reading list was Wayne Liquorman, whose Ram Tzu book is a favorite on my bookshelf that I haven't read in ages ...
http://advaita.org/AFwayne.htm

...which somehow reminded me of a poem I have kept in the front of my daytimer for about ten years now ...

Be like a bird
Who halting in her flight
On a limb too slight
Feels it give way beneath her
Yet sings
Sings
Knowing she has wings.

So I googled it, and it turns out to be the words to a song, adapted from a poem by Victor Hugo. Who knew? And it's not even 10 am yet ...

what endures

I just got back from a looonnng walk in the sun. It's gotta be 50 degrees here today.

As I was thinking to myself how lucky I am to have the kind of work where I can be out midday, and how fun it is to know so many playmates with similar schedules who can join me, a man who I'd seen on my daily walks for years and then did not see for a long time approached.

And for the first time in 8 years of walking the same path in different directions, we struck up a conversation. He told me with a big grin that a book he's written about flight training and beautiful women has been published, and that he sent it in to Oprah to consider for her list.

He's gotta be in his 80's, and it was such instant validation that investing in creativity is investing in the one thing that does not need to fade away with age. Well, wait, I guess Love doesn't need to fade, either.

Okay, one of two things, then.

The enduring nature of love has been obvious to me for years. But the concept that we can create until we die is relatively new for me. It gives me even more to look forward to as I age ...

Melting

I'm in a pretty magical space right now -- feeling flooded with grace. My social calendar is full to overflowing; salsa dancing, contra dancing, invitations to gatherings and parties, teas, movies -- new friends and connections of both genders coming in from all corners. My work is fulfilling, my kids are amazing, and my friendships are becoming deeper and richer with each passing day. Gifts are being delivered to my door. There's very little lag time between my inner questions and the arrival of the answers.

I feel as though every need is being fulfilled in its own sweet time, and I'm in no hurry for it to arrive. For example, I told some friends that I wanted to connect with men who carried the vibration of Mastery, and I have met several in the past two weeks. None of them have been right for me to date, and that is just fine with me. I'm simply enjoying spending time with them, be it moments or hours, steeping in the fragrant stew of Lives Being Lived Joyfully On Purpose. The flavor is penetrating deeper and deeper into my bones with each passing day, tenderizing the meat of me. One of these days my sense of Me-ness might just melt away.

I don't remember ever feeling this relaxed about my life. The only thing I seem to worry about is that I don't worry about anything, and I can't even sustain that for more than a few seconds.

Since I do not know by what grace I have arrived in this place, I don't know how to share it with you, except to tell you about it and hope a little of the fragrance wafts through the spaces on your screen. Here ... take a little taste from my spoon. It's delicious living like this, and the flavor only gets richer every time someone else jumps into the pot with me.

visual bliss

At a friend's birthday party tonight, I sat near a guy who mentioned that he was a photographer. You know how I like to google everything, so of course I had to come home and investigate his work online. I am stunned speechless by the, umm ... gorgeousity ... of this man's work. See, that's not even a real word. I told you I was speechless. You will be too.

I just paused for a moment to tell you about him, and now I am going right back to his site to be transported and transformed.

I think lunar is my very favorite category so far.
http://www.steelephoto.com/photo.php?set_id=4

Or is it Flatirons?
http://www.steelephoto.com/photo.php?set_id=2

Oh, I dunno. Do yourself a favor and look at all of them.
http://www.steelephoto.com/index.php

If you feel inspired to use his contact form to tell him how much you enjoyed his work, go for it. He seems like a very decent and humble guy, from what I can tell, and I bet he'd be happy to hear from you. And feel free to pass his site along - it's like a mini online retreat.

If you live near Boulder, I think I heard him say he has a show at the Boulder Public Library gallery for another week or so. His name is Peter Steele.

my life in music

You all know by now I'm a bit o/c, right? Well, my obsessions extend to music, as well. When my kids first introduced me to You Tube, I disappeared into my computer for several days.

When I found Incubus's Drive and Hemmorhage by Fuel, I played each of them continuously for over a week. Then I moved on to Tasmin Archer's Sleeping Satellite. And now, after a brief hiatus, my current perseveration is By My Side from Godspell, if you can believe it.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=XR3sfbvtwUs

I thought perhaps my reverie would extend to the movie as well, so I watched some clips. But nope ... I couldn't stay with it more than a couple seconds. The religious concepts are way too harsh and rigid for me. So it's not a religious reverence that is holding my attention. Although I do resonate with the concept of some sort of Loving Force that is bigger than our conscious minds can conceptualize.

But the songs! Oh, the songs. When I was a kid, my mom was very hip. (She still is! It was her who introduced me to the Flaming Lips a few years back.) We had lots of cool albums - Hair, Godspell, Santana, Saturday Night Fever. I remember those songs like nothing else. (And I can still sing the preamble of the Constitution thanks to Schoolhouse Rock.)

I loved that scene in High Fidelity when John Cusak's character was reorganizing his album collection autobiographically, so that he'd have to remember that he listened to such and such when he was breaking up with so and so, and that came before he bought The White Stripes or whatever.

It occurred to me that perhaps my musical obsessions tell a story, too. I will never forget that Sammy Hagar kept me company on my little red Panasonic tape player when I was in bed with a horrible sunburn on vacation in Southern California at age 16.

So maybe I'll start saving them in order, and someday I'll create a soundtrack of my life. I've never been a scrapbooking type, and only remember to take pictures when the presence of a birthday cake reminds me to get my camera. Music and fragrance seem to be the anchors of my memories. I might as well go with it. Maybe I can archive my past with scratch and sniff CD's ...

reality?

Loved this quote that Rob Breszny included in his Free Will Astrology email today:

"What concerns me is not the way things are, but rather the way people think things are."

- Epictetus

the windmills of my mind

I remember we sang that song in elementary school music class. Round like a circle in a spiral like a wheel within a wheel. Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel. Or at least that's what the lyrics are in my memory.

These past few days I'm feeling acutely aware of the carousel of my mind, and its tendency to exaggerate, jump into the future, and overly dramatize what it tells me. I suppose this is the 'opportunity within the crisis' of the end of my relationship. My mind has plenty of fuel to keep it active and freaking me out: those thoughts that only surface when I feel bored, rejected, abandoned, etc.

So like the sailboat I saw on the ocean in St. Petersberg a few weeks ago, I've been engaging in constant course corrections. That mind o' mine is clever, and sometimes I don't even notice it has slipped into a story again until I realize that I feel like crap. But when I do finally notice, I take a breath, reorient my awareness into the here and now, and I feel fine again.

Just now, I was trying to get some work done, and I heard a soft little murmur in the background of my head predicting a bleak and lonely future and trying to drum up some support for its vision. When I turned my attention to it fully, and asked it to assess our present moment and see if anything was lacking, it sheepishly slinked away. But I tell you, not 3 minutes later, it was back, testing the waters again! Little bugger. I gotta admire its tenacity.

So the journey continues, along with the various voices narrating it in my head, each seemingly with its own agenda. But what is new this time, that I'm really liking, is that the ones that sound like Eeyore can't seem to persist in their gloominess when I ask them what they need that they don't have right here and now. They hem and haw and settle back down pretty quick.

So the course corrections only take a few seconds nowadays, whereas I think when I was younger it may have taken days or even weeks to realize which story was hurting and call it to join the present moment.

I wonder if at some point, this process will become automatic, and happen under my conscious radar. That would be cool! I'll let you know.

the point

Started feeling a little funky last night - sort of bored and aimless. Normally when I feel that way, I make some kind of bid for connection by offering my mate a backrub or starting a conversation. With him gone, those strategies are longer options, so I stretched and danced instead.

Which was very nice, but I still woke up with a vague feeling of If I don't have something useful to do, then, well, what am I doing here? "Here" meaning in this human body. (don't be alarmed, it's not a suicidal thought! I'm way too wimpy for that kind of thing. It was just a general musing.)

So in my half awake/half asleep state as the sun was rising, I tried to access a purpose for my life. The most amusing one I came up with was to produce carbon dioxide (it was amusing to me, anyway.) I also considered that maybe there is no purpose. Or maybe I'm just a sensory organ for the Divine Oneness and It's not uptight about what kind of feedback my little neuron of a self sends back to the mothership - any old sensation is better than none. But I really didn't have much luck coming up with anything other than those.

Then I got up and checked email, and true to form lately, my answer came right on the heels of my question. Today's daily Abraham quote:

Mining the moment for something that feels good, something to appreciate, something to savor, something to take in, that's what your moments are about. They're not about justifying your existence. It's justified. You exist. It's not about proving your worthiness. It's done. You're worthy. It's not about achieving success. You never get it done. It's about "How much can this moment deliver to me?" And some of you like them fast, some of you like them slow. No one's taking score. You get to choose.

Seems to weigh in favor of my hypothesis that we are God's hands, the instruments by which the Universal Mind gets to manipulate the clay of physical reality, and to feel the sensory pleasure of incarnation.

So if this is indeed the case, I am achieving my purpose when I enjoy the warmth of the sun on my face. I am achieving my purpose when I wiggle my toes and feel them actually respond with movement. I am doing what I came to do when I savor the sharpness of the cool morning air entering my lungs while my skin is warm under layers of blankets.

Sometimes it's hard to believe that those things are really enough ... but other times, I wonder what else could possibly be more important.

thoughts on breaking up

I'm writing this mostly as a note to myself, because I want to document this feeling in an attempt to anchor it for future access. I have a tendency to forget important stuff like this.

Just like with most of my previous relationships, after many months of internal hemming and hawing and deliberation, one day I woke up crystal clear that it was time for us to go our separate ways.

When this first happened back in 1997 with the father of my children, the clarity did not come after months of hemming and hawing and deliberation. It came out of the friggin' blue, and it terrified me. I fought it tooth and nail. There was a lot of collateral damage caused by struggling with my own awareness and trying to get it to go away because it was gonna be very difficult to make the changes it was asking of me.

Thankfully, in my relationships since then I've had more warning. And maybe I've directed just a tad less effort into fighting my own clarity - but really, to be honest, not that much less. I still go down arguing with myself every time.

So there are two things I want to remember:

One, that there is no way for me to win a battle with that kind of inner clarity. I may as well forget about trying to supress or change the message. And if I choose fight it anyway, sooner or later I'll exhaust myself and finally accept it.

and Two, these things have a timing all their own, and action does not always necessarily follow immediately on the heels of awareness.

There's such a qualitative difference between that feeling of "should I/shouldn't I" and the YES, NOW when it finally comes. I wrote a note to my future self in my journal to remind her that if she's still deliberating, it's just not time for action yet for reasons she won't have access to. And that it's okay for her to just be honest with herself and her mate, and wait a while until th