Unstuck Yourself: Grow something...

"A garden requires patient labor and attention. Plants do not grow merely to satisfy ambitions or to fulfill good intentions. They thrive because someone expended effort on them."

— Liberty Hyde Bailey

There's nothing like the thud one can feel as you drop back into life after vacation.

You try to prepare for a soft landing, but much like the jarring sensation you felt as the wheels touched down on the tarmac, you are reminded that you are human. And therefore, you must face the reality that you play, you pay...

So, after a view of my over 100 emails and load of catch up, I felt a little stuck.

Stuck like I was the first time a cousin tricked me into stepping in a deep puddle of wet cow manure. I could not seem to lift my feet to get going in any direction. Not just overwhelmed, but apathetic too. Sigh. How in the world does one get out of this situation?

How about taking off your shoes and stepping into some new ones?

I did it, and you can too, with a simple act of stepping out of those weighed down pumps. Leave them in the sludge and go find your favorite footwear for doing what you love most. What is it you think about doing when you daydream? What is on your feet while you're doing it? It might be hiking boots, or perhaps running shoes or flip flops. For me, it's my pair of gardening clogs. It's like the magic of Dorothy putting on those ruby slippers.  You're whisked away back to where you belong.

You get back to your roots, what inspires you and grows you.

And suddenly, there's no place like home.

Your head gets cleared and work gets done.

Go grow something.

Cheers. 

Don't miss the message in hysteria.

“If you’re hysterical, it’s historical.”

 ~Anonymous

I lost an earring last night.

It was a favorite, and I’d actually lost and found it before. This time, however, with the day I had experienced, I knew it was now gone forever. Instead of sighing and moving on, tears formed and my voice shook as I told my son and daughter in law. They both looked concerned. You see, they know me, and I don’t cry over stuff that quickly. Especially not stuff (or baseball). “I’m sorry, I’ve had a hard day,” I said as I went upstairs to recover.

I’m not going to sugarcoat this. Left the room and balled like my 2-year-old grandson.

I called my dear soulmate, Chris, to help me get perspective. He was naturally concerned. “I’ll buy you another damned pair...What is really going on?” he asked. It was at that moment that I realized there was a lot going on, and I wasn’t facing it.

It was not the here, and now, it was historical.

I don’t like losing things because it reminds me of some of the more profound things I’ve lost in my life. Things that can never be replaced. Things that can never be changed by my husband or any other loved one. Things that unlike my earring, I will never forget. I grow hysterical with fear.

Perhaps it was time to get more real about my historical reaction to loss.

I’ve always assumed my response to loss is greater than the general population’s, but over time, I know that there are different types of loss. Some are more subtle than others but just as heavy. We have a tendency to gravitate toward those who share our particular type of loss, but perhaps we should stop separating and categorizing our differences.

Instead, we can congeal around our understanding.

And like my husband’s straightforward words to me, find out what’s really going on.

Under the hysteria.

Cheers.

Less doesn't always mean nothing.

"Get clear on what matters by getting rid of everything that doesn't." 

~Unknown

What stops you from doing that thing?

You know, THAT thing. That dream that nags you. That project that you feel is perfect for ____ and needs to happen. That start on the goal you know is important to your life satisfaction. Is it too many responsibilities, or not enough resources or maybe it just makes your head spin to consider it? Put whatever came to your mind in a physical form. What does it look like?

I bet it resembles a large pile of something...

A large structure, and it seems immovable. Oh boy, the phone calls, and research and time... And time... And what if you do all of that, and you find out it's really more like a Mountain than a pile? It is in this shadow of the pile that you find a murky vision of what you see. Murky isn't what you need my friend. You need clarity. A clear view of what it is that is preventing you from doing it. And then taking it apart, or just tossing it aside. Because there are more unneeded things in that pile than there are significant ones. How do I know? I've been there, and I've sat in the middle of those piles.

You think you don't you have enough to accomplish it.

But having less of whatever it is you need to get started and get clarity does not equal having nothing. Stop saying you don't have what is necessary. Just stop doing all the things that you don't need to do in order to get 'it' done,  The truth is you have SOMETHING, even if it's only the idea and the will. What can you do with your little old something? Use it to find the other little bits of things you need to do more? 

You don't need more to do more.

You need to do more with less.

Accept the less, because it's far from nothing.

Cheers.

Perspective REALLY is EVERYTHING

It's all about how

: ):

You look at things...

I haven't always been a sunny personality.

I remember a friend introducing me to Norman Vincent Peale when I was pretty young. I thought the whole premise of the Power of Positive Thinking as an excellent way to make a buck on the adage, "Fake it until you make it."  It also seemed pretty easy to me for these people to walk around with a happy attitude when they were already doing well. But I was carrying a significant amount of responsibility for one so young, and there didn't seem to be anyone around to help me with my burdens. I spent many days feeling trapped and overwhelmed, wondering if I would ever find a way to achieve some of the dreams that were inside my head and heart. 

Then one day, I hit a glass door full force.

I came barreling around a corner, and I could see my friends sitting in the room ahead. It never occurred to me that there was a door there. I didn't see my reflection even until it was too late. My face smashed against the glass, and I fell backward onto the concrete. My friends, in shock at first, came running out and then they were laughing. I lay there on the ground, dazed and confused, and realized what had just happened. Now I began to laugh too, as I imagined what they must have seen from their perspective. It was pretty hilarious.

I didn't stop to drink in any consoling or pity, I just went in and got an ice pack.

You see, the cut on my swollen nose would heal, but I would carry the lesson from that injury for a very long time. Perspective was everything in this event. 

1) I didn't see the door because I was looking past it. How many times do we make mistakes, hit a wall because we don't slow down and consider what might be ahead?

2) My friends could see my impending collision, but they were powerless to stop it. We can't always prevent people from making mistakes. We can only be there to help pick up the pieces if necessary.

3) Instead of focusing on the painful aftermath, I joined my friends in laughter. If possible, bring laughter to others when you see them make a mistake or hit a wall. Laughter will help them change their perspective and see the good parts of what just happened versus staying stuck on the ground.

There's a duality in most things that surround us.

The physical world and what we see and feel is not all there is. There is a world of spirit and purpose underneath it, and no matter what it looks like on the outside, there is much more going on beneath the circumstances we perceive as negative. 

If I can remember that and tap into the deeper meaning behind what I am experiencing, then I can accept what I am going through with greater ease. Even hitting a glass door.

You have a choice in every perspective you take. 

Choose wisely. It really is everything.

Cheers.

Don't Hold on to Words That Need to Be Said.

"Nothing haunts us like the things we don't say."

~Mitch Albom

The scene was almost more than I could stomach.

I was watching a television series that I had become semi-addicted to. I was doing the 'catch up' thing so I would bulk or clip watch as I could between other more important parts of life. The segment was focused mostly on the death of a main character's mother. Well, she was not much of a mother, other than to give birth to her and her five siblings. The segment depicted how much the character struggled with having any grief or remorse over the woman's untimely death. The Funeral Director, making the reasonable assumption that there was grieving which needed to happen, allowed the character time alone with her dead mother's embalmed body. I don't know what I expected, but I didn't expect what happened next.

There was an incredibly cathartic experience.

It was full of angry words, cursing, and tears. The young woman said A LOT, apparently full of years worth of messages left unsaid. And then, to my shock, she began to physically pound on the dead body. It was pretty raw. My completely caught off guard reaction led to deep gulping followed by sobbing. How sad that someone could hold on to so much emotion and never put it to words until it was too late?

But perhaps it wasn't too late?

It might have been too late for the dead woman to hear, but clearly, it provided a lot to the living daughter. So in that way, it wasn't too late, because it finally got said. I thought of Mitch Albom's quote, and it reminded me that it is haunting to have words within you that need to be said. They gnaw at your brain and stick in your throat. As long as you are living, they will remain, until they are put out there in some form.

And I remembered a good tactic I was taught by an excellent counselor.

I'd heard about it before, but it always sounded so silly to me. How could it ever really help? The exercise was to write a letter, either to the person or about thoughts that are haunting your mind. Don't worry about grammar, spelling or finding the right word - just write it out. A virtual parade of words poured out on paper or screen. I always wondered, why not just say the words out loud or to the person you are addressing? But think about it. When you are talking directly to someone, you can't control what they say or how they act. But when you are alone and writing, it is entirely in your control. Then, you either burn the paper or shred it. The act of destruction is the visual act of truly letting it go.

Without having to pound on anyone's dead or alive body.

And you can experience the freedom of no longer being haunted. 

Think of it as an exorcism of sorts.

One step further: Mail pieces of it to the person intended, with a note that is just signed "I'm Okay."

Cheers.

Time to Leave the Circus...

Don't be upset at people who are clowns.

Just stop being a part of their circus...

I wrote this today after a bit of a restless night.

I went to bed with a conversation I had with a close friend heavy on my heart. It wasn't that what they shared impacted me directly so much or caused me to feel unease about a response. The issue was how they were being impacted, and how much angst they were experiencing as they tried to sort through a solution. I wanted so badly to be able to take their burden from them. But as we talked, I knew more and more that this would be impossible. Acting for them in response to the issue would only put off the inevitable. 

The people she was being pursued by needed to find their own way.

My friend was now advancing in age and responsibility, and so were those who insisted on making sure my friend was acutely aware of their needs. While there had always seemingly been a way to provide help with some controls, it was now well out of control. As my beginning statement says, my friend was a standard part of their circus. But my friend is not a clown, and she doesn't even like clowns. In fact, she's done all she can to not be a clown and done a fantastic job of it. But how do you help a person who is being taunted break the cycle and walk away from the circus?

It's harder to do than it sounds. Because they have a contract on their head called 'guilt by association'.

I don't find it surprising when grown ups continue to expect everyone to take care of them when they put themselves in crisis again... and again. And when they refuse to take responsibility for where they are, that also seems to align with the first behavior.  When you are the kind of grown-up who wants to remain just childlike enough to need parental units your entire life, it becomes a perpetual cycle that is tough to break. These people seek out targets that they appear to keep in tow like reference books in a library. They try to be careful not to overuse any one, not to damage it beyond repair. But eventually, they use up most of the ones that have no emotional ties, and so they are left with those who they are bonded to. Either by blood, or by experiences, or some obligatory memory. And they use this tie, like a noose, pulling at it relentlessly.

Cutting off the noose isn't cutting off the relationship. It's correcting its course.

You can still know the clowns and even stay in touch. But you don't have to be a party to their circus. 

Slip off the noose and tear up your season pass ticket.

They will find another audience... Or take off that silly makeup. 

Cheers. 

Absence does make the heart grow fonder.

"Love is a symbol of eternity. It wipes out all sense of time, destroying all memory 

of a beginning and all fear of an end."

 ~Author Unknown

My dear husband is fond of reminding me that Valentine's Day is a 'made up' holiday, and the greeting card industry was behind the whole thing.  I know he's right, but it still is nice to have yet another excuse to celebrate love and all the joy's it can bring.

And this week, as he is out of town on business, I remember why I love him so much.

His presence makes my life fuller and more purposeful. Not that we own each other's lives, although I call him 'mine.'  It's a bit strange that we Americans start our youngsters out in pre-school with the practice of bringing Valentine Cards for the whole class, all of which proclaim something about being "mine."

That proclamation of possession seems to go contrary to the real meaning of love 

You know, that we read about in the Good Book: "Love does not demand its way..." And I can't always have him right here with me nor can he demand the same for me.

Perhaps I've just stumbled upon a real source of trouble in our culture and the way we form loving relationships.  We don't take people hostage in love, we join with them, each remaining unique in the blending. Independent in the building, but growing together.

The blending of our lives in love.

Each of us bringing a group of people to the union, and a different viewpoint on life.  Has being in love with Chris changed me?  Oh my yes.  And I think I've changed him (just a little) too.  But we remain loyal to our fundamental beliefs and personages. And those little idiosyncrasies are what I miss most when he's not with me. I like that we blend and don't try to break each other.

So I'll endure some absences and allow them to grow my fondness for his presences.

Cheers.