Time to Stretch: I'd love to be....but.

"You can only grow if you feel awkward and uncomfortable when you try something new.” ~Brian Tracy

Have you ever heard yourself saying far too often, "I'd love to be, but...."?

About six months ago, I realized I was having a lot of thoughts like this, and that they followed a similar pattern. There was something I wanted to get better at, some way in which I wanted to grow. But to do so, I’d have to subject myself to something that made me feel afraid or uncomfortable. So I’d stay stuck and a little scared, and tell myself I’d deal with it another time.

We all have things we avoid because they make us feel uncomfortable.

Sometimes, this discomfort is there for good reason: it’s warning us of potential danger. I often have to remember this when I'm practicing Yoga (smile). But a lot of the time, I think the discomfort we feel doesn’t signal any real danger. We just don't want any weird looks.

And while I was in a Yoga pose called 'Warrior Two," I realized I was really stretching, and uncomfortable.

It’s a simple truth that if you want to get better at something, you’re going to have to go through a period where you’re not so good at it, which might mean feeling uncomfortable. You have to stretch yourself. That's when I realized that if I could get better at telling when my discomfort was blown out of proportion and overcome it, I could do so much more, be so much more as a person. So I decided I’d start deliberately making myself do things that made me uncomfortable, and write about them to better understand my experiences and share them with others.

So this week, I'm going to share with you what I've learned from my stretching - and the ensuing discomfort.

Maybe I'll encourage you to stretch a little.

And stop saying "I'd love to, but..."

Cheers.

Fear and the 'knowing' of the 'known'.

"We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light."

~Plato

Today, I will go see my oldest Grandson off to his first day of school.

This year, he will have the added caveat of going to a new school. I will have the fortunate task of adding many memories, and I am grateful for this. But I will also have the experience of reliving some other memories, many not so nice. Memories of being just his age and starting yet another new school. I was on my 3rd school by 4th Grade, and I wasn't afraid that day of the unknown. In fact, I remember hoping for new and surprising stuff to happen. My imagination kept me hopeful of the nicest teacher, an excellent bus filled with kids who wanted to know me, and even that I would meet a forever friend. But in my mind and the pit of my stomach was filled with a fear buoyed by what I knew: I knew I would be stared at. I knew I would have to figure out where to go for everything on my own. I knew no one would want to sit by me. I knew it would be hard. 

The fear of the unknown is rational, even typical. It rarely stops us from what we want to do.

But the fear of the knowns - the experiences we've had that potentially might play out again - now those can be real suffocations of growth. Fear of failing again. Fear of being hurt again. Fear of rejection again. Again, it's the word that embodies some pretty terrible fears, isn't it? But as the wise one, Plato, says above, it's a tragedy when we allow ourselves to be afraid of the light - afraid of what we know. 

Because what we know can be addressed from a place of knowledge.

And with knowledge comes power. That's what I finally figured out by the time I entered High School, my 7th different school, with a whole new set of people. Yes, all that stuff I knew when I entered the 4th grade at Union School was still true, but I now knew how to handle it differently. I didn't have to make sweeping changes - sometimes, though, we do. I just made small adjustments, and mostly - I stopped being so afraid.  I used my understanding to find others who were eating lunch alone or standing by themselves in P.E. I made forever friends.

So today, I will encourage my grandson not to be afraid of what he knows, but to use it to find a new strength inside. To learn from the newness, and embrace the traditional. Again.

There is power in what we know.

Let go of the fear.

Cheers. 

You can't face fear until you embrace fear.

"I will face my fear.

I will permit it to pass over me and through me."

~Frank Herbert

It's easy to believe that the very brave do not give a thought to their fears.

We rationalize that those who run into a burning building or rescue a child from swift waters must have somehow learned to vanquish any fear they might have to their mortal body. How else could they manage to keep their mind clear and perform such feats of human amazement?  At times in our lives, we may sit motionless, feeling stuck by a fear that has gripped us. We gulp as we wish, hope and pray that we could have that same ability to simply ignore our fears, and take a step. Just make any move at all...

But we are missing something vital as we sit and allow our fears to paralyze us.

The very brave not only recognize their fears, they fully understand them. They know what the fear is capable of doing to them, and have given the fear the proper respect it deserves. Rather than allow the fear to incapacitate them from taking action, they have used their ability to comprehend the fear to find ways to absorb it. As the quote says above, to allow it to 'pass over and through them.' It leaves nothing behind. Nothing of damage. Only the power of knowledge.

Is it not true that NO ONE can understand what makes you afraid better than you?

Perhaps instead of keeping this awareness trapped inside of us, or pushing it aside in some effort to deny it, we should take a good look at its core. Embrace the fear, call it out by name. Consider why it is so dangerous, considerable or daunting. And once you've dissected it, you will be able to train for how you can allow it to pass through you as you move forward.

Looking ahead to what you are called to do, or where you are called to be.

It still exists, but it no longer prevents you.

You now prevent it from stopping you.

Cheers.

Beauty begins and ends with a smile.

“Because of your smile, you make life more beautiful.” 

~Thich Nhat Hanh

Is there anything more beautiful than a person smiling, or better yet, laughing? I don’t think so. It’s almost contagious.

When you see someone smiling from ear to ear, filled with joy, you can’t help but smile too. Am I right? Sometimes I catch myself trying not to smile or laugh as I walk down the street, or I am driving in the car, remembering something funny. But then I’m reminded of this quote.

Why would I ever want to stifle my happiness and joy? Why would I ever want to hide my happiness?

Smiles breed more smiles.

We tend to be so serious all of the time. We chart our course based on our to-do lists, and we spend so much time worrying about the past or the future. We set standards that we believe we need to measure up to to be beautiful, successful, meaningful, and the bottom line of it all, to feel good enough. When really, all any of us want is to feel like we matter. 

So, what if it isn't exactly about measuring up to any arbitrary yardstick?

What if the secret to feeling like we matter is as simple as looking for reasons to smile no matter what? Your smile has the power to transform someone’s day, light up the room, change the vibe, and open you up to opportunities, love, connection, and the present moment.

I think smiling is the key to letting go and embracing how beautiful we (and life) are right now. I came up with three steps to embrace your beauty and smile more every single day.

Begin and end with you. Try opening your eyes in the morning and smiling. 

Your smile has superpowers. So why not give that gift to yourself first thing when you start your day and right before you go to bed? It’s like setting an intention, only with action instead of words.

Beauty has nothing to do with perfection… No really, it doesn’t.

We have this very skewed perception of what beauty looks like. Not one person on this planet is perfect. In fact, our flaws and imperfections are what make us unique. They are endearing. So embrace your crooked nose, big forehead or short legs. They make you different, and beautiful.

Embrace what is while being eager for more expansion and experiences. 

It’s okay to want what you want to make some improvements.  You want to lose twenty pounds, cut your hair, improve your wardrobe...
Go for it!! It’s human nature to have desires, to want to expand and experience more.

But try to do it from a place of inspiration and excitement, not from a place of fear or lack. Not from feeling like you are not beautiful. 

Being happy with what is, looking for things to appreciate, seeing the silver lining right here and now, smiling and laughing every day as much as you can, and being eager for more at the same time is the pathway to joy.


And it all starts with a smile. 

Go ahead, let your beautiful light shine.

Cheers. 

Can you get beauty from ashes?

"He gives us, beauty for ashes..."

Isaiah

As I spent a weekend with a couple of my cousins and grandsons, I considered these words...

As I looked out onto the beautiful blue water of Laguna Beach, and the loved ones around me, all I could think was, "Beautiful."  In my view, nothing could be more perfect. I decided right there that this week's theme would be about 'beauty.' Not the skin deep kind, but the kind that radiates from within. A beauty that cannot stay hidden, even beneath the darkest cloth of mourning or veil of sadness. It's a beauty that is made even more stunning by the fires and damages that it finds it way through.

My cousin's and I came from backgrounds that often found us in the ashes. 

We've spent time together in much larger chunks since my son and daughter in law moved to the coast. The location provided us with the perfect option to bring our lives together again. Suffice it to say that our family histories contained a lot of painful experiences, tested by fire and dismantled through discord. But here we were, three women with grown children who longed for the connection we shared from our birth. 

And as we allowed the desire to grow as individuals to water the charred earth of family history, the beauty began to sprout.

I want to encourage you if you are reading this today, and sitting in the ashes. Inside of you, there is a beauty that can come of these blackened shards of life's remnants. You don't have to coax it out or fake it until you make it come out. Just water it with your desire to heal, and it will find it's way out.

It can't hide. 

That's how real beauty is.

Cheers.

Broken things are sometime hard to find.

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” 

― Rumi

I reached the age of 40 having never broken any bones in my body.

Interestingly, each of my four children had broken bones, a couple of them several. I had experienced the wincing of watching them with limbs that were swollen and turned the wrong way. Held their hands as the cast was set. I had encouraged them during the rigors of physical therapy and the healing process. But I could only reach into my emphatic mother's heart to imagine the real pain and determination of recovery. 

It was around that age, however, that I realized my brokenness was not in my bones.

Events in my life were chaotic and out of synch. The outer shell of confidence I had carefully built around myself began to crack. In what I can only call miraculous or fortunate, I somehow made it to a safe place where I could re-evaluate where I was. I was teetering, and I could feel it. With the urging and insistence of a loving man, I found my way to a Counselor who quickly diagnosed my pain. She told me I was broken inside, and that I could no longer cover it with my survivor instincts. If I wanted to be healed, I had to pull off the band-aid. 

And I gotta tell you; it hurt like hell.

In fact, it hurt so much that I could only endure it for a matter of months. I finally decided I needed a break. My Counselor told me I needed to keep going, but I told her I thought I was good enough. I had found the broken, after all, so now I could just work on fixing it.

But 'fixing' it was not going to be nearly enough.

You can superglue a broken cup back together, but you probably won't be able to drink out of it again. It will leak. And that's what happened to me when I tried to glue the broken spots inside of me. I leaked, and this time, in order not to allow it to hurt anyone else, I internalized the reactions and trauma. The result was never feeling peaceful, always worried about when the other shoe would drop, and punishing myself for not being able to get a handle on what was wrong. I wasn't healing - I was just managing.

In this managing, I was keeping out the wisdom and light of truth that could heal me.

I can't tell you when or how it happened, but I decided to dig again to find the brokenness and allow light to flood it. It wasn't pretty, and it required me to take a lot of responsibility for my healing. I had to be tough on myself, and I had to weed out some habits and relationships that were keeping me in brokenness. Am I completely healed now? No way. These are big old cracks that are filled with a lot of dirt. But am I on the way? Oh yes.

Take heart. Be bold. Keep looking for your brokenness.

Take a breath, and rip off the bandages or chisel out the superglue.

Let the light enter you at your wound and begin to heal. 

Cheers.

Healing is not about getting 'better'...

"If you listen to your body when it whispers, you won't have to hear it scream."

~Unknown

I've always referred to healing as 'getting better'...

When you are sick or afflicted, and then you take action to get well, you hope to get better, right? But better than what state? Sure, better than your sickly self, right? But as I began musing about this week's focus for my Joyous Perspective - I had to wonder if the term better is part of the reason we are afraid to take on the big healing projects.  Thinking of being in a better state is kind of a challenge to ourselves, isn't it? Consider that the synonyms for being better are words like: 

Superior

Preferrable

Higher quality

A cut above....

When you are a tired and afflicted soul, these words sound completely unattainable.

Your expectations for what should happen when you take steps to heal become ridiculous. You are looking for the better and the even better than you have ever known. Then, someplace during the process, your goals, desires and hopes fade. You might begin to think that these efforts are not worth it. You are who you are, and perhaps you should accept and learn to carry this affliction. And if others don't like it, well...

I was there a couple of years ago. In fact, a little over 18 months as of today.

The only piece of human wisdom that helped me get past the expectations of 'better' was the good old 'One day at a time' thing. I put my hopes in the theory of 'anything you can do for 21 days becomes a habit'. I wish I could tell you it did.... But I still hung by the skin of my thumbs to my determined decision to make a change and get better...

Then one day, after about six months, it hit me.

This was not about getting healthy; it was about healing.

And I changed my focus to healing myself, inside and out. But recently, I struggled again as I didn't see the kind of results I expected from my healing. It was then that I realized another tipping point: 

I don't want to get better. I want to get back to the real me.

And that's a journey of healing that requires I pay attention to what my mind, body, and spirit are telling me. 

It's in the whispers... Do you hear that?

Cheers.