May 2020

Drawing Lines In The Sand

2 Comments / Courage, Personal Growth / By / June 11, 2020

We have all been hurt, betrayed, ghosted, or mistreated, and because of that, boundaries are a necessary part of living. The common thing I hear is that it can be difficult to define, especially when we are dealing with people we have loved deeply, shared dark secrets with or grown up with, like our family. Life is messy and personal, those ties run deep and the lines get blurred by emotional attachment and occasionally fear of the consequence. Sometimes, completely cutting ties, for our own sanity and well being, is our best choice, although not a black and white one. Other times we have to simply decide what kind of behavior we will allow while still seeing those people, and it is a balancing act, one that requires assertiveness, yet can also make us feel guilty and uncomfortable. It is a learned skill, to be able to create clear emotional lines to protect ourselves. You can still be a kind person, hold your ground and your power at once. In fact, if you’re doing it right, that’s exactly how it looks.

So how do you know what is fair and right? 

For me, it is all about recognizing my inner motivation and how it manifests in my body. If I pay attention, I’ll always recognize truth, because my gut speaks it. It’s also a matter of working through my feelings before I react or make any life choices. I strive to never make important decisions when I’m in emotional upheaval. After I’ve been hurt it is common to carry residual emotions that can be confusing. Once I sit with, sort and identify them, I have a better chance of responding in a way that serves my higher, best self. We all have a higher, best self. 

Grudges are heavy, life sucking, joy robbers that come from a place of unresolved anger, hurt, or vengeance. The weight of carrying it often brings bitterness and angst, even at the very name of the person. It’s ultimately toxic, incites negative emotions and keeps you stuck. It can feel like you’re protecting yourself, but you are only adding hurt to an already difficult situation. You armor up, block out everything, even the good stuff, instead of moving through the pain. 

Establishing boundaries, however, leaves you feeling serene, expands your heart, creating space for those healthy relationships that are meant to nurture your life. These derive from self-love and awareness that allows you to see your worth and only accept behavior from others that aligns with that. There is peace, healing and contentment in your choice. That person may still be out of your life, but you send them away with love, goodness and light. You also accept that they are in a different place, one that doesn’t match yours, and doesn’t require your judgment or energy. Yeah, that sounds kind of woo-woo, but it’s also a Universal truth, one that has held fast for me again and again. You will always know by the stirrings in you if you are making boundaries or holding grudges. 

It has been my personal experience that this is not something I do once, but a practice I’ve had to visit again and again, because sometimes my heart gets the best of me, or the dysfunctional role I’ve played in these people’s lives comes back like muscle memory. I certainly didn’t grow up knowing how to take care of myself emotionally, in fact I was the one in charge of everyone’s else’s, so I had to adopt this trait for my own well being. Each time I do it, I am stronger and better at finding my way, listening to my intuition, because, again, it always knows. 

I recently had to revisit some boundaries with my family, my dad in particular, a man I’ve had to draw clear lines in the sand with for years. I was thrown off guard by old emotions that bubbled to the surface when I was being manipulated and bullied in a phone conversation with him. At 59, I found myself in tears, responding like a child with no voice, feeling beat up and kicked in the gut. Because essentially I had been. 

After I hung up I had to take a step back and evaluate where those feelings were coming from. Eventually, after sitting with it for a time, recognizing my part in it and re-centering to the person I am now, I was able to stay true to myself, reach out with compassion, and still remain clear on what I needed and would not accept from him. Of course, at first this feels mean. This is my dad we’re talking about, and yes, it’s very personal. 

But I matter. Let me say that again. I MATTER.

And no one will take care of me if I don’t take care of myself. I have learned that I can respond to these situations with firmness, clarity and positive energy without falling back into old destructive patterns where I am being used up and shut down by their needs. I decide how much I am willing or able to give. With zero guilt. I also decide to remain soft in a harsh situation. That is vital for me. I will not let my experiences leave me bitter. And, YES, it is a decision. It felt really good to know that I could do all of this at once.

I spend my time now in loving, reciprocal, positive relationships where I am heard and respected. I’m a giver, and when I need to take a step back, I see it more quickly and do it with ease and no resentment. I’m not perfect at this, but I won’t be an afterthought and you don’t get to wipe your shoes on me, so I’ll keep at it.

Give yourself permission in this moment to not take any shit and still be beautifully kind. Own your power without ire. The more you practice this form of loving self-care, the easier it will be to recognize your truth and what you need to do.

For you. 

What’s In A Name?

6 Comments / Coping, Personal Growth / By / May 21, 2020

It was a long, winding road to find my blog title. Until one day it just clicked.

You can ask my kids, all of them, how I keep track of things. I scribble. On random pieces of paper. On the back side of a utility bill. On a napkin. Whatever I can find in the moment. Yes, I need an intervention. In life, I’m kinda, sorta organized, but in the land of paperwork I’m a train wreck. I’ve purchased scrapbooks, baby books, filing systems, notebooks that I labeled and designated for my writing. And I started. It was going pretty well. Then the whole thing went terribly awry. I’m not really sure what happened. But finally, at age 59, I’ve decided to embrace this flaw and these stacks of paper, as endearing, and just go with it. When I’m gone my daughter’s will each get their beautiful, partially finished scrapbook, and a shoe box filled with scribbles, a treasure trove of delight, from their first words to my innermost thoughts about life, what tried to break me and what made me fierce. Yeah, and probably a bunch of other stuff that means nothing at all. Hopefully, they’ll laugh, like they are right now, reading this. 

And there’s also this. I’m sick. With a plethora of autoimmune crap that pretty much gets on my last nerve and requires undaunted attention to my health, diet and well being, something I have not even begun to get really good at it, except when I am. It affects my muscles, joints, connective tissues, fingers, feet and anything else it wants. I have a love hate relationship with this illness of mine, have learned to become friends with the pain, let it teach and guide me, all at once wishing it would just go away already so I can get on with my life. 

A few years back, I had a really bad flare-up episode at the Blue Note Grill, in front of everybody who knew me, and where, for the first time many people I loved realized I had some health issues that resembled a drunk girl at a frat party and required a small army just to get me back to my seat from the dance floor. Scary shit! As difficult and humbling as that was, I felt compelled that evening to share some of my experience on Facebook. Let me just tell you that I was overwhelmed by the comments and the private messages filling my inbox from my very vulnerable expression of the heart . Suddenly I was an example of someone who goes out, vibrantly enjoys life, smiling widely without hesitation, while dealing openly with challenging circumstances. I realized then that this issue deserved a healthy, open conversation in all CAPS! Truth is, I struggled with how to do that. I’d been considering a blog for a while but didn’t know if I wanted to write about my disease, incite any negativity, give this a voice that’s bigger than me. I sure as shit didn’t want this to define me. 

But it is part of me, and it’s here to stay.

After my embarrassing public incident, and subsequent responses, it struck a chord in me when a dear friend said “This pain may be the yellow brick road to your purpose.” I finally realized that maybe, just maybe, that’s what this was all about. It’s speaking to me! Screaming, if you will, that I have a voice, a message, and that all those things I’ve scribbled in a journal when I’m at my wits end, may add up to something that you can relate to, so you feel less alone.

I have pain. Every. Single. Day. There are times when I am drowning in my affliction and I can’t see anything but that. It takes a great deal of intentional, sustained energy to keep moving through life during those endless days or weeks. I make plans around the way I’m feeling, pace myself, just so I can go out or even do something as basic as make dinner. Maybe you need to know what it’s like to be me. To go through a day like I go through. To muster the strength and energy just to get up. Not for pity, not for sympathy. But because, I am not the only ‘sick girl’, the only one facing fear and uncertainty. Sadly, SO MANY PEOPLE, go through life feeling defeated and deflated by chronic illness or other ailments, alone with this, ashamed of this. That’s not okay. I can do something. Honoring all of what I experience has allowed the revelation that I am so much more than what is happening to me. So is everyone out there who is struggling. With deep resonance for the brave people who have entrusted me with their stories, I will put my pride and shame aside, lay my soul bare and share my experience, my degree of discomfort and, here’s the good stuff, my victories! I have lots and lots of them! I will, through my own ups and downs, give you my insight on how I show up in a great big chaotic world when my world often feels so small. My mantra has become…

                            My body has pain, but my life has JOY!

So, here it is. What’s in a name? 

An invitation for you to embrace it all, to be okay with the way you feel. Permission to experience all your humanness, your fragility and fragmented self out in the light, not in the dark corners of shame. 

                                                      A Rebel Yell!!!

To live your life out loud without inhibitions or labels, self imposed or societal, that would dare hold you back! To remind you that this is your one and only freaking life, you are multidimensional, and can be empowered by all the broken and beautiful things at once!

The Least I Can Do

8 Comments / Coping, Personal Growth / By / May 21, 2020

Disinfect all common areas, wash hands, disinfect, wash hands, don’t touch your face, disinfect, repeat. Mask and gloves as needed. Remind her to wash her hands. Again. 20 seconds feels like forever. Don’t touch your face. Gently remind her. Again. Keep at it. 20 seconds…

It’s just another day with my client. Cooking, cleaning, doing yard work, grocery shopping, driving her to appointments when things reopen. And because they haven’t yet, I do her nails and hair…until…

But most importantly, I am her companion. She seems to want more of my company lately, as though it cuts through the underlying fear of the pandemic. So I help her with a jigsaw puzzle that I completely lack skills for. We do number games, crosswords, watch movies and read. We talk about random things and spend a good deal of time laughing. 

She asks me questions now, with doubt in her eyes. “Do I need to worry?” “No,” I tell her. “We’ve got you.” And we do. Her combined group of caregivers includes me and three others. But I am also her friend, confidant, a constant in a stirring, chaotic world. Though in many ways she is sheltered from the magnitude of what is happening around her, she looks to me for reassurance. So I don’t have the luxury of anxiety or feeling panicked. Her well being is my responsibility, in as much as one can be responsible for that. My risks are her risks now, my energy will also be hers. I am accountable for what I project on her. If she sees uncertainty in my eyes then she will feel it too. 

In the most rudimentary, yet significant of ways, I am a bedrock for her. Her world has become small since her stroke, so when I am there, I am the one who creates and encourages the quality of life she will enjoy day to day.  

I find a balance between knowing what is necessary about our collective responsibilities and keeping her from the constant hateful backlash, economic losses and blatant ignorance that is spreading like wildfire. A sense of security and safety with the people that spend the most time with her, in a home that she’s used to living alone in, comes from our demeanor and the attitude with which we approach sheltering in place orders. We need to help her understand the situation, without overwhelming her or instilling any fear. I can’t let my personal feelings or concerns reflect in any way on how I do my job.

As I’ve pondered this, I am reminded again that every moment of every day I am choosing. I am deciding what thoughts I allow into my head about this global crisis and how it affects my mood. I am choosing how much space I’m willing to give to something negative, painful or difficult. It is solely my obligation as a human being to make sure that I’m living in my truth with as much integrity as I possibly can.

I don’t want to choose. I wish the government was handling things more effectively so there could at least be a partial win for everybody here. I would love to see businesses safely, slowly reopen, especially those mom and pop places that cannot endure this. I wish my daughters and their friends could get their jobs back but with a decent wage and an opportunity for healthcare. Wouldn’t it be lovely if children could go back to school and enjoy the camaraderie with their friends and beloved teachers who have been overworked and overtaxed through all of this, not to mention the parents? I’m acutely aware of the psychological and financial suffering that is happening around me and want it to come to an end. I would especially love to keep the most vulnerable of us safe, protected and valued, while moving forward to a kinder world. 

But those aren’t my choices. These are. To shelter, to socially distance, to avoid groups over 10 people, to wear a mask. Until there’s something better in place I have one job and it is to show up for my client with every precaution afforded me. The most effective way for me to do that is to check myself everyday. Am I doing what is best for the greater good, set in place by our Governor? Am I willing to put my personal needs aside for however long this takes, step into discomfort and live life without excess and petty wants, an act that many consider unfair and unconstitutional right now? Yes. A resounding yes! The fact is I am safe, warm and well-fed in a home surrounded by loving people who look out for me. I am making no real sacrifice by giving up dancing, dinners out, birthday parties, window shopping, days at the beach, roadtrippin’ or girl’s night at our favorite bar. I miss these things, especially my people, but am merely doing what is asked of me. So when I come to my job everyday and need to put my best foot forward for the sake of my client, it is not a matter of will I or won’t I. I just do. And if I can’t show up with full commitment to what the world is going through, and a spirit of generosity, I’d better step aside and take a long hard look at myself. 

As I’ve ridden the waves of emotions washing over me during all this, I’ve noticed some magic happening; that in doing this I have come face to face with my belief system. Sheltering in place, protecting myself for the sake of others, and doing every preventive thing possible to keep me and other people safe is merely the least I can do considering the goodness that I enjoy in this life. My freedom lies in the act of duty, my commission. Stepping back for a few months so medical professionals can tirelessly do their job. So scientists have time to get answers. So Mother Earth can speak her truth to us with the hope that we open our hearts and listen. I’m not afraid of losing my rights. I’m actually more worried what will happen if we don’t do this. It’s all we have for now.

And when I look in the beautiful face of a 76 years young woman with a hippie spirit and gorgeous silver hair, who trusts me and seeks comfort in my knowing, my complicity, my companionship, there is nothing else.

Things I Love About This Pandemic

Leave a Comment / Coping, Personal Growth / By / May 9, 2020

There’s a lot of talk about the things we’ve missed during Sheltering in Place and the things we want to go back to. Advice is flowing on how to manage our emotions, navigate through our fear and allow ourselves permission to not be okay. People are dying in vast numbers globally, and we are left with the loss and grief of perfect strangers that suddenly have become very personal to us. There’s an uprising, conflict all around us about rights, priorities, healthcare, wages, and the basic infrastructure of an economy that screamed for our attention long before this pandemic struck. I personally have made mental lists for myself of the things that are most important to me, the activities I would gladly lay aside and the ones I want to return to. I’m also desperately aware of the pain and suffering, lives lost, moment by moment sacrifices draining our front line workers, financial losses and the permanent effects we will be suffering as we reopen. But as important as any of this is, something else can be gleaned from a time of crisis. In fact, it is almost an affront if we don’t take the time to acknowledge some of the purpose that can come from a devastation of this magnitude. It has been a gradual awakening for me, but this morning as my guy and I were talking, I was just suddenly flooded with gratitude and I could see so clearly all the small wonders that have lifted me up during this uncertain time. And it occurred to me that many of us have these things but maybe we haven’t made room for them amidst our fear. So, here goes….

Things I love about and am learning from this pandemic…

*I safely honor all my feelings for a world in pain and confusion but have the clarity to know where to put it. Through intention and practice I’ve been able to determine what emotions I want to spend my energy on and what I don’t.

*My guy and I still work, but our evenings are now more fluid and we find ourselves free to linger and get lost in the moment, enjoy long insightful conversations and say what we want with no schedule to interrupt us. Sheer bliss. 

*It’s been a real opportunity to know my roommate better. This sheltering started right after he moved in and although we’ve been friends for a while now, this has given us a new level of perspective. What a treat!

*It’s always 5:00 around here. No judgement drinking zone. For realzzzzzz

*I don’t live in fear. If I find myself veering into the chaos, I know how to get back to peace. I realize that my challenging life has prepared me for crisis and I’ve developed good coping skills, but this thing is so much bigger than me and it’s good to really KNOW this about myself.

*My natural instinct is to be a helper, to do the right thing for the greater good. Even when I’m hurting or afraid. I wondered if I had lost some of that during the difficult years of managing my illness, but here it is. This pandemic reveals us. 

*I found my rhythm with my writing. I struggled for years, kicking myself for not just publishing my blog already, but the timing of this was perfect. Something I should have trusted all along.

*I love the phrase Sheltering at Home. It sounds to me like the most warm, inviting experience one could ask for. I have created a home that I find comfort and solitude in, and I have certainly come to appreciate it more than ever during this time.

*I have rich and fulfilling relationships with beautiful people that I look forward to reconnecting with, slowly and safely as we are allowed. Their presence in my life has helped me navigate the ache of missing our face-to-face time. There is peace in knowing we have a circle, a trusted kinship. 

*I am in and grateful for emotionally safe relationships. I no longer live with any uncertainty for my well-being either physically or mentally. Nothing brings dysfunction to light faster than being isolated with someone who is not good for you.

*My hair has very pretty natural curls which have thrived with no color and very little heat as it has grown its way through this downtime. Don’t get me wrong, I’m going back to my colorist, but this has been kind of fun to discover. 

*I have seen some incredibly generous, heartfelt, sacrificial acts of kindness through this. I have been the recipient of some. Humility, love, abundance of the spirit. It is alive and well. My faith in humankind is solidly grounded in that. 

*I love the hush that fell over the universe for that first little while as we began sheltering, isolating and quarantining. This great pause that has filled us with doubt, panic and changed the very fabric of the way we live our lives is also the very thing that will shape us going forward. 

I hope you find moments that bring to mind some things you’re grateful for, a few lessons you’ve learned that you’d like to take with you, and that you recognize some character traits you’ve developed that you want to keep. Because if you’re still hangin’ in there, you’re pretty badass! Mostly, I hope you have moments of peace. 

Something To Cling To

Leave a Comment / Coping, Personal Growth / By / May 8, 2020

A mirage in the desert, the optical phenomenon we move toward, parched, exhausted, awaiting the pure water that will quench our thirst. Our desperate need against the threat of giving up, a light filled glimmer of salvation from the burning challenges of an uncertain life. 

Hope

That is what it feels like to me. I don’t know if it was my religious upbringing that first instilled it in my heart, but hope has never been elusive to me. Throughout every difficulty and challenge I have faced in my life I have been able to dig deep and find that reservoir of hope to cling to, with clenched fists and courage, using it as a map to an inner strength I didn’t know existed.

Even during a childhood that often left me feeling alone, shrouded in shame and emptiness, there was always something compelling me forward, something telling me that I could do this. When I was around 12 years old a particularly vile and depraved act of abuse left me feeling as if I could not hang on or live in my home for one more second, but I had nowhere to go. I felt as though my soul had been torn from me and I simply had no will or resilience to light my way. I considered ending it all, but I couldn’t leave my younger sisters behind, and in my core, there was a knowing that something better was in store for me. I just couldn’t find it. So, through hot tears and desperation, I prayed to a God I didn’t understand and begged for mercy, for some kind of respite from the indignities and pain. And in that moment I was gifted with an experience that would forever change me. All at once, I felt as though I was being lifted, carried in the palm of a gentle, loving hand floating on a soft pillow of glorious peace and safety. My body was light, almost airy and somewhat ethereal. It felt like a dream but it was happening. A voice, as soft and certain as anyone I had ever spoken to, reassured me I was not alone and that I indeed possessed the necessary strength to endure whatever I needed. That moment was the very essence of hope for me.

Hope has long been identified with God and religion, because it involves a belief in things we desire, following our faith, an expectation of something not seen, from somewhere bigger than ourselves. But through the years, as I have evolved beyond those traditional religious narratives to a more grounding sense of spiritual oneness with the Universe, this experience remains a part of me, manifesting as an inner strength and a force field of positive energy that I was created with. My Higher Power no longer looks like the God I grew up with but remains a stalwart pillar of life-giving light, offering me the ability to find hope that never truly leaves me, holding fast to the universal truth that I am whole and everything I need is inside of me. As much as my resilience, my bravery, or my resolve, I own hope. It belongs to me. And I can say that without any doubt because I have always been okay at the end of whatever life challenge I am given. Always. 

And now, as our world spins in a polarizing rhetoric of fear, panic and uncertainty, hope is needed more than any other single thing. I hear it everywhere, the whisperings of despair, despondency, demoralization of spirit. We have forgotten that we can have peace from the hope that lives inside of us but often lies buried by the circumstances we succumb to. It is always within our personal power to change the way we view anything and tap into our higher self. But how do we access that innate gift within us, that solid foundation of belief that overrides our all encompassing fear?

I’ve come to believe that hope is grounded in purpose. 

I cry for our country. So often. More than fear for the virus itself I feel the soul of our nation and all we have stood for is slowly dying. My heartbreak has nowhere to go. I am an empath and I feel the profound weight of the emotional distress that I see around us. It would be so easy for me to get lost in the current state of affairs, to fear for my rights as a citizen, become obsessed about how to help everyone while still keeping the most vulnerable of us safe. But the truth is I can only control my little corner of the world. It is my responsibility and purpose to mentally release anything that I cannot contribute to and focus on how I show up moment by moment to every part of my life. So I start with what I know. I channel that flood of emotions to fuel kindness and diplomacy. To do better for the greater good, to show more humanity through understanding, be more present, offer unlimited compassion for the suffering and lonely. Yes, I fear we have gone too far as a society to ever heal from the growing seeds of hatred, so I must be and do exactly the opposite of that, and I refuse to be distracted by the confusion that would keep me from that purpose.

But let me tell you it’s hard. Like any muscle memory it takes practice to lean into hope. It takes practice to pay attention to all of our feelings and release those things that we truly cannot change. It takes practice and mindfulness to feel the pain of others and have the clarity to know where our truth lies, keeping it alive while still navigating through the discord.  

It is ultimately our truth-telling that becomes our purpose. And in that we find that hope is not unreachable, but right where it has been all along, in the deep recesses of our soul waiting to offer us the tranquility we deserve.  

Coming Up For Air

7 Comments / Coping / By / May 8, 2020

In August of 2013, I screwed up pretty bad at work. It was weeks after my 2nd divorce. I dropped the ball with some important clients that affected my team and our profit margin, so my boss took me aside for a talk. I knew what was coming. I was sure he would fire me, I deserved it and was prepared. I was overwhelmed by the weight of the loss, my new dysfunctional living arrangements, concern for my daughter, the grief from my recent broken marriage and what I thought was my broken life. All the pain came pouring out of me as I sat face to face with him, explaining my embarrassment, owning my actions and apologizing for my mistakes. Truth is I needed that job, but I didn’t know if I could do better. I was depleted. Part of me was ready to just let go of any responsibilities and pull the covers over my head. I came undone in front of my boss, someone who had mentored and guided me and never should have had to hear my personal dilemma or see my tears. I didn’t just tear up either, I ugly cried from the core of every crushing blow I had ever felt. It was a nervous breakdown. Yes, I knew at that moment I was done. But something extraordinary happened. 

This man showed me compassion when he could’ve shown me the door. 

He gave me the gift of time, a two week leave of absence, to heal emotionally. To grieve. And even though I knew he thought I probably wasn’t coming back, as did everyone on my team, he made me feel as though he had all the faith in the world in me. I needed that. Unbeknownst to anyone, I was fragile, falling, and shattered. I was as sick as I had ever been from my autoimmune disorder and the stress of my life was killing me, my insides were literally collapsing and coming out. Those two weeks felt sacred to me. I used them to lean into every feeling I was experiencing, to allow the ache of my sadness to wash over me, to search in the depths of my soul and reconnect with that part of myself that had been buried and suffocated.

I did come back with my skills and motivation intact, and began building working relationships with some amazing people, whom I cherish as friends to this day. When I ended up requiring surgery a few months later and had to take an extended leave, this company created a job for me to step back into, that adapted to my physical limitations. Because they believed in me. And that doesn’t come along everyday. 

I’m not fragile anymore, I’m certainly not shattered, and as I fell, I learned to fly. And it started with the grace of one man who took the time to hear me with his heart instead of the bottom line.

I still can’t talk about this experience without choking up because it is so deeply personal and relevant to who I am at this very moment, and I can”t help but see the parallels of that time in my life to this pandemic and its global effects. It was filled with chaos and uncertainty, urging me to show up in the world with clarity and intent, my integrity unfettered. It was a painful, sorrowful journey laced with beauty and goodness, that demanded self-awareness and growth from me. Now, more than ever, we have the ultimate opportunity to peel back the layers of our character, revealing our highest, best selves. While I search for ways to navigate through the current situation that is bending and twisting our world with hatred, anger and confusion, I keep in mind that one act of human kindness can change a person forever. That has been gifted to me so often, and it is only right that I offer the universe that in kind. 

Life continues to teach me, forge my resilience, leading me to softer responses, a kinder existence. Everyday I get to choose who I will be. I will show empathy even when I’m hurting, I will wear a mask and smile through my eyes to encourage others, I will not call the guy that pulled out in front of me an asshole, most importantly I will focus on gratitude so I can rise above the fear and move forward daily with purpose and hope for a more peaceful planet. Something we need so desperately.

And it begins with me.