The Medicine of Hops, the Brush Rabbit

January 31, 2013 By 8 Comments

Brush_RabbitIt was nearly a year ago when I first met Hops, the brush rabbit.

I was stuck in one of those loops, one of those endless mental loops. My mind was circling and circling and circling, constantly repeating this one scenario that ended time after time with this super intense feeling of barely repressed terror and hurt… and then the cycle would begin again.

Nothing I did would stop my mind from repeating this extremely painful pattern.

I tried breathing. I tried saying something different, changing the dialogue (in my head). I tried to notice and feel the sensations in my body. I tried to simply not care when I came to the painful part and was again flooded with pain and panic.

Nothing worked. This particular scenario was so stuck in my head that it felt impossible to shift. My mind just kept cycling and cycling and cycling. My frustration grew and grew and grew.

Then, something unexpected (and quite weird) occurred:

I was in the middle of the scenario, in a state of complete frustration with my inability to have any control over my own brain, when in pops Hops, the brush rabbit.

Now, it might be helpful here for you to know that I work with animal medicine (buffalo, raccoon, owl…) quite a bit. There is nothing I like more than having the opportunity to quietly observe wild (or even domesticated) animals and birds. It is a deeply nourishing and healing practice (medicine!) for me.

So, when Hops popped into my brain and said:

“Hey, if you can’t change how you feel at then end of this loop, why don’t you change how you react to how you feel?”

I just accepted the suggestion.

Yes, there was a rabbit in my brain. Yes, I could make up a lot of stories about what that meant or where he came from or whether or not he was real or just some other part of me showing up as a rabbit.

I didn’t question his appearance. I simply chose to listen to his advice.

Except, I didn’t really understand.

Me: “Huh?”

Hops: “You can’t change the pattern, right?”

Me: “Right.”

Hops: “Why don’t you change how you react to the pattern?”

Me: “Ok, how?”

Hops:  “Well, you could always *hop*.”

Me: “Huh. Ok…”

So, the next time the scenario looped through and I felt that overwhelming rush of terror and hurt (*after* I felt the terror and hurt that were feeding the loop), I stuttered out “Hop!”

It was kind of funny.

And, I almost forgot to do it because I was once again so caught up in the pain of the scenario. But, I remembered. And, it kind of made me giggle.

The loop began again. At the end, I again said “hop!”. And, this time I was suddenly inspired to add a couple more random words after ‘hop’: butterscotch, sandpiper, sailboat!

And with that, the Game of Hops began.

With each cycle, I would say Hop! and then add as many random, nonsensical words as I could think of in a 2-5 sec span. The loop would repeat. I would again hop! and add more random words: pumpkin pie, rainbow bright, candle light!

It started to be fun! I began to look forward to the end of the scenario (which I had so dreaded before).

And, as I continued to play in this way, everything became more and more of a game until the entire pattern shifted and there was only freedom and love in the moment that previously held so much pain.

It was amazing.

And then, the entire pattern, the entire loop, dissolved. *poof*

My brain was once again mine. My mind was still and quiet. My body felt calm and at ease.

It was then that I realized I couldn’t even remember what the scenario that had so dominated my mind had included. The pattern had shifted so completely that there was no longer even a memory of the painful incident. There was only love. And giggling.

Here, now, is the Medicine of Hops, the Brush Rabbit, as I experience it:

It is medicine that leads to the unraveling of things (issues, patterns) that no longer serve.

It is medicine of interrupting patterns that seem impossible to change. And through interrupting them, changing them. Little by little, like small hops across a yard (hop, hop, hop). Or, in one giant leap, like a rabbit escaping the bobcat by the width of a hair (of a hare?).

I have wanted to share this story for a long time.

I just haven’t known how. It is fairly convoluted (and odd) and yet it ends in simplicity.

There is only this truth. The truth that everything can change. Can transform. And that when we are truly done with a particular pattern, there is no need for it anymore, at all. Anywhere… in our heads or in our lives. It simply disappears. As if it were never there.

In fact, it disappears so completely that we even forget it ever existed.

This is the medicine of Hops. This is the medicine of the brush rabbit as I’ve experienced it.

For you, now, I offer the Song of Hops.

A couple of weeks after the experience above, I was sitting in meditation when this melody popped into my mind.

The Song of Hops

Hopeful Hopping
Hop Hop Hop

What you think is what is not
Hop Hop Hop
Hop Hop Hop

Here’s how you sing it: The Song of Hops

I find singing it to be a powerful (and very playful!) way to bring the medicine of Hops directly into my life – especially when my mind is caught up in some some loop of anxiety, worry, regret or fear. I hope it does the same for you. Hop, hop, hop… :)

Comment Magic:

Thanks for being here. I’d love to hear any stories about medicine or healing you’ve received from animals. Also, what helps you when your mind gets stuck in some unending loop?

*sending love and hopeful hopping*

8 Comments Filed Under: Nature! Nature!, Personal Stuff, Self-Care

How Lighting a Red Candle Changed My Life

December 6, 2012 By 8 Comments

Over the past years, my concept of what self-care means (for myself) has changed drastically.

This is good. This is to be expected when the basis for my work is about evolution and allowing/expecting things to change. The very fact that what self-care means has changed so much indicates to me that I am on my path.

This change has been disconcerting, however, as it has happened super swiftly.

Further, every time I think things have settled enough so that I can actually begin to write about it, everything changes again.

Today, I’m in this place of not even knowing where to begin to talk about what self-care means to me now.

Everything I’ve written about in the past (the importance of wallows, of magical listening, of comfort, of magnificent failure, of owl eyes, of relaxing, etc) still applies.

There is now just so much more. My framework has expanded (and is still expanding).

So, let’s start with a story.

It is a while back. I have only recently been introduced to the teachings and work of Malidoma Somé.

I’m skeptical. I truly, honestly, thoroughly, don’t get the whole piece about working with your ancestors, with your lineage, for healing. Growing up in an ultra-conservative religious community, I feel oddly discomforted by the entire notion.

Yet, I’m also very drawn to the aspect of his work that involves working directly with the elements of fire, water, earth, mineral, and nature for healing and transformation.

And, I love the focus on purpose, on community, on personal empowerment, and living in relationship with nature.

My (not-yet) husband and I do a water ritual at the ocean to release some of the old, stale patterns between us that were not serving our relationship. I feel so connected to the ocean and to the earth and have this sense of being truly cleansed.

My interest grows.

In which I light the red candle.

So, on a whim, I decide to see what might happen if I light a red candle for my ancestors every day while I write in my journal.

Easy, right?

Enter 10-14 days of the most intense emotional turmoil I’ve ever experienced.

I honestly thought I was going insane. I didn’t think it would end. I was convinced that I was just going to feel this insanely sensitive, easily triggered, and emotional for the rest of my life.

Oh, I was using *all* of my self-care tools.

They would help – while I was doing them. Then, I’d be off into this spiral of devastation, anxiety, fear, grief, etc.

The only thing that really seemed to help was spending time talking with my ancestors when I lit the candle – telling them how awful everything was and bawling my eyes out.

Then, I’d feel better. And then, some even deeper layer of something would open and I would once again be a wreck.

So, yes, 10 days of absolute awfulness, 10 days of being more emotionally sensitive than I’ve ever been (even at the height of hormonal intensity), 10 days of thinking I was going insane.

Finally, slowly, over the course of a week, the emotions began to abate.

I began to experience more and more moments of absolute calm and clarity. When the emotions would begin to rise again, I could take it all to my ancestor candle (now an altar), let it pass through me and within a matter of moments, be back to a place of stability.

In brief, spending time with my ancestors was the quickest, most effective self-care I’d ever experienced!

It was about that time that I began to notice something different when I went to light my candle and speak with my ancestors.

I could feel them!

I could feel their support and their love. When I was feeling afraid or sad or anxious, I could take it to them and just rest in their love. I would leave feeling nourished, calm, and centered.

Then, I noticed something else.

First, though, you need to know that the majority of my dreams have always been very dark.

…me, alone, in a dark city, being chased through alleys (or cornfields), not knowing who to trust, conspiratorial (against me) overtones… those types of dreams. Creepy, dark, very alone, terrified…

As I began to re-find my center and feel/accept the support of my lineage, my dreams changed.

People (who I innately knew I could trust) would all of a sudden pop up in my dream and whisk me to safety. Or, we would be side-by-side fighting and fleeing together, scheming up all sorts of unlikely and unbelievable ways to escape the dark forces threatening us.

It was amazing! I was no longer alone! I had support and allies even in my dreams!

I would *never* have guessed my dreams could change.

The thought had never even crossed my mind that that was a possibility. And, they continued to change over the next few months.

Today, I can’t even remember the last time I had a dark, conspiratorial dream. Now, I have different patterns showing up for me to work with; and, I have support in my dreams to work with the new things as well.

There is so much more I could tell…

…about how everything in my life is different now, about the various rituals I’ve had the opportunity to be a part of and to lead, and about how much more support, love, in-real-life community, and connection there is in my life.

However, what is most important to me right now is to start opening up a bit more about how self-care truly looks for me in this moment.

I’m starting here, now, with this story.

Comment magic:

I’ve experienced so much transformation and deepening of connection with myself and my community thanks to this nature-elemental-spirit-based path I am walking. This path works for me.

What is working for you now? Do you have a spiritual (or spirit-based) path that is a part of your self-care? Where do you turn when things are difficult?

8 Comments Filed Under: Nature! Nature!, Personal Stuff, Self-Care

A Story of Hope

October 29, 2012 By 23 Comments

I’ve only recently began to believe in hope.

Prior to last spring, I didn’t even know that I didn’t believe in hope. I had no idea how meaningless hope was to me.

Yes, there were clues.

For instance, two years ago, I was teaching a How to Thrive During the Holidays workshop and we were practicing connecting to various qualities that would be helpful for us throughout the holiday season.

One of the participants  suggested connecting with hope. In my head, I was like, “Hope? Really?”

Out loud, I said: “Ok, hope!”

The other people in the workshop had an experience of hope. I felt nothing.

Sidenote: Generally, when I ask to experience a quality, it shows up. I can feel it. I can easily distinguish gratitude from love from acceptance, etc. I haven’t always been able to do this; it is something I’ve learned to do, a skill I’ve actively cultivated.

Anyway, I asked to experience hope. Nothing.

Looking back, my experience makes perfect sense. Of course I would feel nothing.

At that time, however, I just noticed I felt nothing and instantly forgot about it. Hope hadn’t ever seemed particularly useful for me anyway.

Spring forward one and a half years… to last spring.

I’m participating in a powerful healing ceremony. During this ceremony, I have a vision.

In the vision, this unearthly being of light approaches me. Somehow, I know that I am in the Realm of Qualities (like love, kindness, integrity, compassion, etc) and that the approaching being is the embodiment of a particular quality.

The being approaches. I ask her name. She says: “My name is Hope.”

I’m all (again): Hope? Why hope? I have no relationship with hope!

The vision ends.

This time, I become curious.

It has become very evident to me that I know nothing about hope. And yet, meeting Hope (out of all the possible qualities) suggests there might be something here for me.

Plus, hope seems to be very important to other people. Perhaps I’m missing something?

(like hope, perhaps?)

I begin talking with friends.

One friend tells me that she loves hope… because hope is so hopeful. While that isn’t very helpful for me, I do feel oddly envious of her relationship with hope. Her energy feels so happy and light as she speaks.

Another friend tells me that hope is:

“the golden thread connecting where I am to something better. Hope is what helped me get through some really, really dark times in my life. Without hope, without a vision of something better, I wouldn’t be here today.”

I can feel the emotion, the sincerity, the deep gratitude in her voice.

I still don’t get it.

But, I can sense how real hope is for her and part of me wants to share her experience. Part of me wants to believe in hope.

But, how can I?

For me, hope has always seemed ridiculous.

What is the point of hoping for something? Either it happens or it doesn’t.

Hoping is just a waste of time (at best). At worst, hope might even keep you (me) from doing what it takes to get somewhere… because I am *hoping* for it to happen vs doing something to *make* it happen.

Hope implies lack of will, powerlessness, the necessity to be rescued by something or someone else. Hope implies the inability to be self-determined.

(Stay with me, it gets worse.)

Of course I don’t believe in hope! There is no point to hoping. It is better to just endure whatever is going on that is uncomfortable, painful, or intolerable.

Eventually, it will be over. Or it won’t. Either way, hoping isn’t going to change anything. All hoping does is set up the opportunity for disappointment. Or, in other words, for more pain.

It’s just like with my headaches.

I can hope that they get better. I can hope that this one will not be as long or as intense as the last. I can hope that I’ll find a permanent solution for it. Still, though, when I actually have a headache, all I can do is wait for it to be over. In its own time.

And then, I get to deal with all the feelings of hopelessness, helplessness, grief, and depression that are the aftershocks of that much pain.

See, there is no hope.

For me, years and years of unrelenting pain have squashed any hope of hope. There. Is. No. Hope.

For me, at least, there is no hope. There might be hope for you. I don’t know.

Despite all the above, something my second friend said keeps nagging at me.

The part about hope being the thread that connected her to the vision of something better.

The vision piece… hope is related to vision?

Hope is what connects where I am now to where I’d like to be? Hope is the pathway between here and there?

I begin to notice all the times I’ve really wanted something in my life, where I’ve had a vision for how something could be different or better or easier.

I begin to see how so often I’ve told myself it isn’t possible, or realistic, or that I shouldn’t even want something like that.

I begin to tie all those lost visions, those lost dreams, together with my loss of hope. I realize I DO know what it feels like to hope. However, so often, I immediately squash that feeling of hope, that thread that connects the me-of-now to the me-of-my-vision.

Because, there is no hope… right?

And then, following all the noticing of self-sabotage, I begin to see how the times that I have allowed myself to follow that sense of hope (that sense of something in my heart pulling me forward, that sense of expansion, of lightness, of inspiration, of longing) how beautifully my life has changed.

I begin to see how Hope, even though I denied her very existence, has still managed to be a thread connecting me to something bigger and more life-enhancing time after time after time.

Now, everywhere I turn I see Hope.

I see how Hope has been a constant companion, often in the disguise of that feeling of ‘rightness’, walking beside me throughout every step of my life.

Hope led me to:

  • Ortho-Bionomy,
  • changing my life completely in order for something new and more aligned to come through (this business, my husband),
  • discovering more about healing, self-care, ritual, teaching, etc than I could ever have imagined,
  • getting married,
  • the community we are a part of,
  • my spiritual path,
  • a deeper connection with my family and my lineage,
  • even to writing again (this post),
  • and to much, much more.

Plus, as I am becoming more and more aligned with hope, I know that Hope is one of the biggest reasons (perhaps THE reason) I am here.

I am here to offer hope.

Hope of finding relief from pain, hope of a deeper connection with yourself, with your true nature, and with Spirit.

I’m not here to offer the hope of my fears – hope that is not grounded in realness.

Instead, I am here to offer hope that is a pathway to tangible, life-enhancing changes.

I am here to offer hope.

To you.

Comment Magic:

Thank you for being here! I’m curious, what is your experience of hope (or lack of hope)? Your stories, insights, hellos, etc, are all welcome.

23 Comments Filed Under: Personal Stuff, Self-Care

Learning to Tolerate Comfort

June 8, 2011 By 11 Comments

I was reading Kylie’s blog the other day. This particular line caught my eye:

“Sink into comfort. See how much you can stand.”

I was nodding as I was reading thinking, “Wow. that’s so true and that’s something I want to write about. “

Then I re-read it and realized it actually said ‘Sink into DIScomfort…”

Giggling at my inability to read simple words, I was struck by how true both are… and realized this is a topic long overdue for my blog.

Sinking into DIScomfort

When we are in pain, a very normal, natural reaction is to disconnect from the pain so that we don’t have to deal with it.

Therefore, we talk about sinking into discomfort quite a lot here.

We talk about ways to meet discomfort, how to allow it to be there, how to hold it and listen to it.

We practice techniques (like Owl Eyes) that make it easier to open to the discomfort versus running from it, denying it, or disconnecting from it.

But… what about sinking into Comfort?

Should be simple, right? Comfort feels good… right?

And yet, I’ve noticed this sneaky, insidious thing about comfort.

I’ve noticed how much discomfort begins to build when I actually begin to feel comfort or wellbeing to a greater extent than before.

It appears I’ve learned to tolerate a certain level of comfort in my daily life. When that level is increased beyond the norm, the comfort eventually becomes uncomfortable.

It’s as if the greater the level of comfort I’m experiencing in my life, the more likely I am to somehow sabotage it especially if the level of comfort is greater than what I normally experience on a day-to-day basis.

Perhaps an example would be helpful.

Let’s take a peak into my intimate relationship.

Inevitably, when things are going really well and we are feeling super close, one of us eventually freaks out.

It’s generally not conscious. Everything is great and then, just like that, we are fighting over something incredibly silly and non-important (in the larger perspective).

The fight will drive this wedge between us and bring us back down closer to our normal pattern of relating that isn’t quite so deep.

Why?

Speaking for myself, I can’t tolerate the increased comfort.

I become terrified that it won’t last and start wondering (mostly unconsciously) if I can trust it, when/if it’s going to all come crashing down, and if it’s really OK for me to feel this way with him.

Eventually, I get outrageously upset over something small.

There is a blow-up and things return to a more ‘normal’ level of interaction and closeness. Our comfort baseline is restored.

The more I watch this pattern, the more I become aware of the fears and anxieties as they surface.

Then, I am able to sink into the discomfort of feeling increased comfort… which opens the possibility for even more comfort to enter into my life and relationship.

I see a similar pattern when working with clients.

Generally, when someone first comes to see me it is because there is some issue they want help with – a pattern of pain or anxiety that is interfering with their lives.

At some point in our work together, that issue resolves.

And then, all these deeply held other fears and anxieties begin to surface.

What if the pain comes back? What does it mean to feel good? How can I maintain this sense of wellbeing? I don’t want to lose it! Why am I so anxious and afraid now that things are going so well? What’s wrong with me?

These aren’t little fears.

These are deep, core terrors just as powerful as the original pain or anxiety that brought them to work with me.

Only now, my clients are in a place of greater overall wellbeing and have more resources available to help them meet the discomfort.

The practice of consciously sinking into comfort.

Consciously sinking into comfort allows us to become aware of these fears and doubts as they begin to surface.

We can meet them as they arise and continue to sink deeper into both the comfort and the discomfort simultaneously.

The more we can tolerate comfort (sink into it) the more we will be able to appreciate and honor the times in our lives where things are flowing and filled with wellbeing.

And, over time, we learn to tolerate greater and greater amounts of comfort.

Life begins to be a bit more balanced.

Times of increased comfort become stages for growth and learning about oneself. One no longer has to sabotage comfort. Growth through comfort becomes a possibility.

Now, as I’m writing this piece, I’m wondering if learning to sink into the discomfort of comfort, of learning to tolerate increased levels of comfort, might just be ‘how’ one grows through joy rather than pain. Interesting!

Comment Magic:

It’s rather an odd thing – to be talking about comfort as something one must learn to tolerate.

What are your thoughts? Have you experienced similar moments when comfort becomes uncomfortable? How do you meet the discomfort of increased comfort? How much comfort can you stand? ;)

11 Comments Filed Under: Listening to Our Bodies, Self-Care

The Importance of a Really Good Wallow

May 10, 2011 By 11 Comments

I’ve noticed a theme with a few of my clients lately – a theme of being afraid to really feel whatever is going on for them.

The actual feelings and the situations that are bringing them up are widely varied.

The commonality lies in the fear that if they truly feel the feelings, they will be overwhelmed by them, swept away by them, and end up wallowing in them for endless days.

The wallowing piece has got me thinking about bison.

Specifically, how bison create huge wallows – large indentations in the earth where they roll and cavort on their backs in the dust.

The purpose of wallowing for the bison is to build up a layer of dust (or mud) to protect against insects.

*photo courtesy of H. Schuster

Bison don’t *stay* in the wallow, however.

They wallow. Then they leave and go on with their lives. And then, when the dust wears off and the insects are once again biting, they return to wallow again.

The purpose of wallowing for us humans.

For us humans, the wallow allows us to release the emotions that build up and keep us from being fully present.

When our emotions are fully felt, we no longer have to keep a part of ourselves walled off. But…

…wallowing is hard.

Especially in a culture where the very word ‘wallow’ is associated with self-pity and self-indulgence.

And yet, within the word itself is hidden another word:

Allow.

That’s what it is really all about, giving ourselves permission to feel whatever it is that we are feeling. Allowing those feelings to come through.

It’s very normal and natural to be afraid of wallowing.

To be afraid that if you allow some of the emotions to come through, they will:

  1. all come through at once and overwhelm you, or
  2. get stuck and there you’ll be, wallowing, forever.

With emotions that run particularly deep and that are particularly painful, it’s understandable to not want to go there.

If you don’t go there, however, the emotions come out indirectly anyway – through irritability, pain, fatigue, constantly feeling stressed, etc.

That’s why it is important to have a wallow to wallow in.

Not just any wallow. Your wallow. A place that feels safe where you can let your emotions flow.

You come and go. It stays. It is there for you… when you need it.

When you need it, it holds you.

Creating your own wallow.

The bison don’t just stumble upon a pre-created indentation in the ground. No. They dig it out with their hooves. And then, they wallow.

We can do that too. We can create a safe, private place where we can go when we feel the insects of difficult emotions biting at us.

Perhaps it’s just closing the door to the bedroom. Perhaps it’s having a favorite tree or plant to talk too. Maybe it’s watching that one movie that always brings us to tears.

We too can wallow.

Once we are done, we too, like the bison, can leave the wallow and return to our daily lives knowing that when we need it again, when difficult emotions are again biting, we can return. And wallow once more.

Comment Magic:

I strongly endorse the use of wallows. I have a wallow I go to nearly every day – for maintenance, if you will. :)

Visiting it regularly keeps the difficult emotions from building up to the point where they begin to wreck havoc on my daily life. When I leave, I feel cleansed, more fully myself, and better equipped to face the rest of my day. It feels, somehow, both protective and preventative to me.

What about you? Do you have a wallow? If not, how might having a place to go to when you feel difficult emotions eating at you be useful? If you do, what form does yours take? :)

11 Comments Filed Under: Listening to Our Bodies, Nature! Nature!, Self-Care

Setting Seasonal Intents

March 22, 2011 By 6 Comments

It’s that time again – the time of year when light and dark are balanced – for a moment at least.

For me this means it is time to review my past Seasonal (90-Day) Intents and set new ones for the next season – Spring!

It’s kind of a 90-Day To-Do list – except that once it’s written, I don’t look at it again. Until the next turn of season, that is.

It’s a practice of mindfully writing out things that I would like to accomplish, qualities I’d like to play with, and my commitments to self-care for the next 90 days.

Today is the day to review past Intents and to set new Intents.

I’m going to share my process here. Want to play with me?

First, decide if you want to follow this process for your business/work life or for your personal life (or both).

Note: I tend to set separate Intents for both business and personal. In truth, they often mirror each other since my personal life and my work-life are so intertwined.

Now, quickly brainstorm as many things you’d like to accomplish project-wise (tangible stuff) over the next 90 days.

Here are a few of mine: Business

  • Re-Launch my Owl Eyes E-Course – with more options and a lot more Owl Eyes goodness.
  • Teach a 1-Day Sensing (and Play) workshop at Oxbow Park.
  • Take at least one Shiva-Nata Class from a new instructor.

Personal

  • Re-start my 15-mile/week walking plan.
  • Plan something really fun for my boyfriend’s birthday.
  • 2-3 movement classes per week (xinyi, yoga, pilates…)

Alright, that’s the tangible stuff.

Ok, let’s move on to the qualities we want more of over the next 90 Days.

Throughout Spring, I want to be noticing and interacting with the qualities of:

  • ease, play, sweetness, and courage (in my personal life).
  • Also: abundance, gratitude, trust and discernment (in my business life).

What about you?

Next, the commitments:

These are the practices and mindsets I’m committing to in order to support the projects and qualities I want to see more of this Spring:

  • to focus on my own process and self-care (vs getting caught up in the drama and processes of other’s which continues, at times, to be the hardest thing in the world).
  • a daily practice of invoking the qualities and guidance that will support me throughout my day.
  • to ask for help daily combined with the discerning surrender of things outside my control or expertise to those who are better equipped. Also: expressing gratitude more for all the support and love that is present in my life.
  • to be open to and notice new possibilities and opportunities.
  • a willingness to be surprised and to let go of expectations. Yikes!
  • spending at least a part of one day a week outside, preferably outside the city.

The final step: hiding it away until the next turn of season, in this case, the Summer Solstice.

Seriously. I don’t look at my list of Intents again until the full 90 days is up.

When the next turn of season arrives, I do review my previous Intents.

It’s generally quite fascinating because I’ve usually totally forgotten what I’d set as Intents 90 days previously.

And, it’s even more fascinating to note how many of the my Intents were actually realized (or, no longer seem important).

This practice is a way of marking time and checking in with myself.

This is where I was 90 days ago. This is what I thought I wanted.

Where am I now? Have things changed? How have they changed?

Did any of these things happen? If so, great. If not, do I want to add them to the next 90 day Intents or are they no longer aligned with my life?

Reviewing my Intents is not at all about beating myself up if something didn’t happen like I thought it should.

Rather, it’s a practice of noting what did happen and checking in to see if the things that didn’t are still important enough to add to the next 90 days.

In short, when I’m reviewing the Intents from the past 90 days, I quickly jot down notes next to each item. It’s as simple as ‘yep,’ ‘nope,’ or ‘this is what happened instead.’

And, it’s totally fascinating to see how some things that didn’t happen as I thought they should actually did happen in a more awesome way than I could ever have imagined.

The super-secret addition to my Spring Intents:

Last time I spoke about wanting to learn to Fail Magnificently. This Spring, I’m adding that to my commitments.

I’ve added a couple of secret (not written here) Intents for myself that feel waaaay beyond my present abilities… just to see what happens.

I want to find out what the process of approaching things from a perspective of failing magnificently brings up in me.

It might be an interesting 90 Days. :)

Comment Magic:

How do you mark time? Do you have a seasonal (or monthly perhaps) ritual to check in with yourself and to make notes of what you’d like to see in your life? If so, I’d love to hear about it.

Or, if you did this process with me, what was your experience?

As always, just saying Hi is adored as well.

6 Comments Filed Under: Nature! Nature!, Self-Care

Noticings on Flow (and the lack thereof)

February 23, 2011 By 9 Comments

Flow.

That magical quality that allows everything to happen with such ease and grace when present.

That magical quality that leads to all sorts of unpleasantness and potential embarrassment when absent.

Flow. Something I want to experience more of in my life. And, something I’ve been intentionally focusing on for the past 2 weeks as part of my 40 Day Challenge Exploration.

I have things to say about flow.

Let’s get started. :)

I’m not very good at flowing.

Sidenote: I actually typed ‘glowing’ which I thought was hilarious. Because, no, I’m not that good at that either. Anyway…

I have moments. Moments when everything just clicks and suddenly, there I am, flowing along with ease and grace.

However, it just takes an instant of recognition (hey, look, things are happening really easily right now!) for me to totally lose touch with that flow. It’s as if Awareness of Flow = Goodbye Flow.

I’m much better at just jumping from Point A to Point B with little awareness of what happens in between.

Need an example? I’ll give you a couple.

(a) In my Shiva Nata practice, I feel most comfortable when I know exactly where my hand is supposed to go next.

I’m practically incapable of leaving one hand position before my brain has figured out where the next position is.

Why? Because then I might look like an idiot – just madly flailing about. Which is ironic since that is kind of the whole point of the practice.

(b) In my life, especially when something challenging has came up (perhaps a conflict between me and my boyfriend), I’m super, super, super uncomfortable just being in the flow. I want the conflict resolved. NOW.

I desperately want to get from Point A (the beginning of the conflict) to Point B (having the conflict resolved and things feeling good again) and will do whatever possible to get there the quickest.

Perhaps needless to say, this inability to allow things to flow, this terror of being in the in-between, doesn’t seem to help the situation. Crazy, I know. *shakes head*

There seems to be 2 levels to this fear for me.

The first level involves being afraid to move from one thing until I know exactly where I’m going. When I inquire into what lies underneath this fear, I find things like:

  • that fear of being in between, in the unknown,
  • of not knowing what’s best for me,
  • of getting lost,
  • of looking stupid and being mocked,
  • of not appearing focused, goal-oriented and purposeful,
  • of losing my center, my sense of self,
  • of looking disorganized, flaky, uncertain, and…
  • the need to be in control in order to feel safe.

The second level is a bit more insidious. This level is about transitions.

For instance, I just received notice that the business I rent my office space from is downsizing to a home office. This means I need to move my office by March 15.

It feels like a good and necessary change.

And yet, right now, I have absolutely no idea what I want out of my next space. I’m in the transition, in the In-Between, without a clue of where I might end up.

Being in the In-Between can be pretty scary.

In my Shiva Nata practice, I’ve noticed all the sensations of discomfort (tension in my stomach, constriction in my breathing…) that arise when I do leave one hand position before knowing the next. How horribly disconcerting it feels to just have my arm floating In-Between until I figure out the next position.

When I actually take the time to tune in, I notice the same discomfort when I think about being in my current transition.

The same is true with conflict with my boyfriend. It’s the not knowing (not trusting?) how Point B will look if I just allow things to rest in the In-Between.

I want the conflict resolved right now so that I know whether we are ok or not. The In-Between terrifies me.

And yet, it’s in the In-Between where all the magic happens.

Or, so I’m slowly learning.

It’s in the In-Between (without a set destination) where an unexpected option or solution suddenly pops up. A solution that is perfectly aligned with my needs, my values, and the qualities I want to cultivate in my life.

It’s in the In-Between where flow becomes a possibility.

Without the In-Between, there is no flow.

Without spending time In-Between, all there is is control.

It’s the In-Between where we have the opportunity to practice letting go, trusting the unknown and surrendering to flow – the flow of life, the flow of innate intelligence that surrounds us, the flow of possibility.

And, here’s the best part.

There is no need to jump into the In-Between in real life.

Everything can be experienced and experimented with through mindful movement.

Playing with the transitions between hand positions in Shiva Nata is showing me the way – illuminating the possibility of a different, more in-flow, approach to life.

What about you?

Do you practice yoga (any style)? Or internal martial arts (tai chi, chi gong, etc)?

If so, the next time you are engaging in your practice, take a moment and place more of your awareness on the transitions between movements versus the actual stances or postures themselves. What do you notice?

Even activities like driving or daily chores can become a practice in noticing flow.

Where is your focus? On the destination or the drive? On finishing the chore or the chore itself?

What happens in the space between various chores?

In short, opportunities for practice are limitless.

Becoming more mindful of the transitions, of the In-Betweens, opens a whole new world of self-understanding and might even lead to increased flow in everyday life.

Or, so I’m discovering. :)

9 Comments Filed Under: Self-Care, Shiva Nata

On Feeling Alone – Together

November 23, 2010 By 17 Comments

Lately, I’ve been feeling intensely alone. Not lonely. I very seldom feel lonely.

Here’s how I distinguish between the two:

Loneliness is that desire to be with other people when you are by yourself. That feeling you get when you really want others (or one particular other) near you.

Alone is something deeper. You can be surrounded by people, even people who love you (and who you love and want to be with) and still feel alone.

It is this ache deep in the heart that questions ‘Do I belong?’.

It is this fear (that verges on undeniable knowing) that you really are all alone in the world.

And in creeps alone-ness.

The other night I was all snuggled up with my boyfriend when this feeling of alone-ness crept in. I knew he loved me. I could feel his love for me.

And yet, that lonely ache wouldn’t ease. I snuggled closer. I engaged him verbally – anything to convince myself that I wasn’t alone; that I was loved and safe. It didn’t work. The ache remained.

Everything externally was in place. I was safe, warm and loved. There was nothing external to warrant this sense of alone-ness. And yet, there it was.

It’s pretty normal, I think, to try to ease this ache.

How?

Well, for myself, I might ask for more attention and reassurances than usual from my boyfriend.

If feeling really insecure (and simultaneously out of touch with the underlying sensation of alone-ness), I might even demand to know that I am loved and wanted – which doesn’t work by the way.

There’s nothing like desperately demanding love or attention to totally make another person want nothing to do with you!

There are other ways as well.

Perhaps through being around people even more.

Or through alcohol or eating more than usual or shopping or allowing the busy-ness of the holidays to just keep you go, go, going.

(Being super busy is a great way to distract oneself from uncomfortable feelings.)

I don’t have a quick fix for this sense of alone-ness.

It’s something that I think is, at times anyway, part of all of us – this uneasy sense that on some level we don’t belong.

Or, that we will always be alone in the world, whether or not we are partnered. Whether or not we are surrounded by a loving, connected family.

With the holidays essentially here (!), I think there’s a good chance that this alone-ness may be even more accentuated for many of us. It seems that many (myself included) experience intensified feelings of isolation and alone-ness at this time of year.

There are some things we can try to make it easier.

I find just naming what is going on to be very helpful. Here I am, surrounded by people and yet, I feel so very alone.

Also, spending intentional quiet time alone – exaggerating and allowing the alone-ness vs trying to buffer it by being around people constantly.

Going into Owl Eyes (wide-angle vision) and tuning into the physical sensations (the ache itself) of alone-ness. Allowing the ache to just be there and using Owl Eyes to help find some space around it.

Or, perhaps writing a letter to the part of you that feels so alone – using sweet words to remind that part of you that the rest of you is there wanting to listen and offering love and support.

For myself, when this sense of aloneness is particularly strong…

… and after I’ve realized that this sense of alone-ness is what is fueling an intense insecurity and a desire to control things and to know (through some external means) that I am safe and loved…

Then… I practice feeling that ache, allowing it to be there, and I whisper my fears and insecurities (in private, most often, or to a tree or something else that won’t judge me).

I say out loud how alone I feel and I ask for help:

  • For help just being in the mystery that is life.
  • For help trusting that it is possible for love and safety to exist for me – both within and without.
  • For help in meeting the ache with compassion and kindness.
  • And, for help forgiving myself… for the times when I am unable and instead demand safety and love from others a in a vain attempt to ease this ache, this alone-ness.

For you, today:

I’m offering my story in the hopes that if you experience anything similar, especially now at the holidays, you will know you are not alone.

It’s not just you feeling this ache and this sense of not belonging.

I guess what I’m saying is this:

Perhaps we all feel alone – together.

I’m so grateful this Thanksgiving week (here in the States) to be here. With you.

Comment Magic:

As always, your thoughts, comments and stories are welcome.

17 Comments Filed Under: Listening to Our Bodies, Revealing More, Concealing Less, Self-Care

Holiday Madness Without; Ease and Wellbeing Within

November 8, 2010 By 4 Comments

(It is possible.)

We’re entering Holiday Madness. The external signs (the music, sales, signs, advertisements…) are already obvious.

The internal signs… perhaps not yet quite so obvious. We’re still on the edge of the holidays, after all, not right in the middle of them.

Internal signs?

Yes. That sense of impending doom, of stress and overwhelm descending, of just that much extra added to an already full schedule.

Sure, there may be a sense of excitement as well. I mean, the holidays aren’t just about stress and obligation and tons of Fattening Food and Forced Family Fun, right?

I know I’m excited to be able to visit my family in Kansas this Christmas. I’m really looking forward to spending time with my siblings, my nieces, my parents and extended relatives. I can’t wait to just hang out with them, to be goofy and play silly games and make fun of each other.

And, I already feel this intense pressure to be buying gifts or making presents, sending cards, supporting friends and colleagues, figuring out which holiday parties I’m going to attend… the list is endless.

My clients are starting to feel and mention the extra stress already as well.

One client described looking at her schedule and feeling completely overwhelmed and panicked by how little space there was.

No space or time for her to do the things that were meaningful to her. Just work, work, and more work but with the additional stress of a week-long family trip that felt more like an obligation or an inconvenience versus a relaxing, restful vacation. And that’s just her November!

Let’s take a step back and take a second look at the external signs.

The festive music, the bright advertisements, the cheery colors and the sparkling lights. All meant to evoke certain feelings (or qualities) within us, right?

The holiday qualities of joy, celebration, peace, wonder, connection with others, love…

It is so easy to buy into the idea (that’s what we are told to do – buy, buy, buy) that buying gifts, eating special treats, going to parties, etc will somehow magically transport us into that place of holiday cheer.

So often, it doesn’t.

My question is:

If the holidays are all about joy, peace, celebration, etc, why is our internal experience often so different?

Speaking for myself, it is this time of year when I’m most likely to feel super cynical, jaded, alone, pressured, overwhelmed, bitter and resentful.

I’d much prefer to feel connected, peaceful, joyful, and loving. Not just now, actually, but throughout the entire year.

The holidays, however, tend to cause me to swing further from those qualities versus closer. And, I’m guessing I’m not the only one who has this experience.

So, how can we access more of the qualities that would allow the holidays to truly be a time of connection, wonder, joy and peace?

I have a couple of ideas. :)

Choose a quality you want to experience more of over the next couple of months – the Holidays. Da-da-da-doom. I’m choosing Ease… because ease makes everything easier.

Now, let’s work from the viewpoint that qualities are magical things that are readily available to us in any situation, at any time.

And, that although external things (like music, sparkling lights, etc) can evoke certain qualities or feelings within us, whatever we feel is actually ours. Our feeling. Our response.

Now, we have options, just to name a few:

  1. We can simply pay attention and notice when we do feel our particular quality. For instance, I often feel Ease when I am with my clients.
  2. We can consciously interact with things that represent our chosen quality. For me, flowing water evokes the sensation of ease so perhaps I can spend some time beside a creek or watching a fountain.

    Or, we can be more active in our interaction – perhaps through music or artwork of some kind or through collaging using images that remind us of our quality.
  3. We can spend time in meditation and ask to connect with and experience our quality (or qualities – there is no need to limit ourselves to one!). What sensations do you experience in your body when you connect with your quality? Where are they?

Through conscious interaction with our desired qualities, we truly can experience a holiday season that is filled with less madness (overwhelm, obligation, stress) and more ease and wellbeing.

Want to take this concept deeper; to really *get it* in your body?

Learning how to access and connect with the qualities you want more of in your life is one of the most important self-care skills you can have. Join me for a one-day Taking the Madness out of the Holidays workshop here in Portland on Dec 12th.

You will learn how to identify the qualities you need more of in your life. And, you will learn and practice a variety of fun, simple, practical ways to connect with and work with the qualities directly.

And, of course, there will also be Crazy Monkey Dancing (Shiva Nata), a lot of laughter, and tons of new connections and other awesomeness to help this holiday season be the best ever.

Click here for details.

Comment Magic:

Your stories, thoughts and comments are adored and appreciated. As are hellos. :)

4 Comments Filed Under: Listening to Our Bodies, Self-Care, Shiva Nata

The Dark Side of Self-Care

October 26, 2010 By 12 Comments

Most people agree that self-care is pretty important, right?

Also, most people agree (at least in theory) that they are more efficient, kind, effective, and loving when they are regularly doing the things that nourish and support them.

Right?

Ok, then.

What’s stopping us from making self-care our number one priority?

I have an answer. You may not like it. Here it is:

Self-Care is scary.

Whenever we set about learning something new, things come up. Perhaps excitement.  Maybe anxiety. Perhaps both?

That is normal. And, to be expected.

When beginning to learn about what we need in order to feel more connected and whole… well, multiply those emotions by a million and then add in all sorts of other craziness.

Welcome to the Dark Side

The way I approach self-care with my students, clients and with myself, involves slowing down, getting mindful and really learning how to tune in and listen to your body.

When you begin to do this, unexpected things happen. Things that have been avoided, repressed or ignored begin to come forward, demanding time, love and attention.

The type of things that come forward depends on who you are, how you live your life and, of course, your particular patterns.

For instance, if you are a super busy person who just pushes through the day and doesn’t pay any attention to your body, physical pain may be what shows up first.

Four or five years ago…

I was pretty in touch with my physical body. Pretty good at listening to it and taking appropriate self-care measures when, for instance, my low back was tight or my knees were hurting.

I didn’t try to push through the pain. I met and interacted with the pain using any of the awesome Ortho-Bionomy self-care techniques I had at my fingertips.

However, I was absolutely not in touch with my emotions. I was the expert of all experts at repressing my emotions and appearing gracious, calm and stoic no matter my actual internal state.

Simultaneously, I was committed to self-care and one day, some dam deep inside me broke and all the emotions I’d been repressing made themselves known to me… all at the same time.

Unfortunately, back then, I didn’t have the skills or tools to meet that type of pain (I do now) and I was completely overwhelmed. For two years.

So, yes, physical pain, repressed emotions, old memories, etc can all begin to surface.

Therefore…

In my Self-Care Madness class, I compare self-care to going on an adventure. An adventure into ourselves. Now, before you roll your eyes and click away, hear me out.

Self-Care as an Adventure???

Yes. When we commit to doing any thing self-care related, especially some on-going course or practice, we embark on an adventure.

We don’t really know what we are going to encounter.

We have this sense of what we may like to get out of our adventure – perhaps things like a deeper connection with ourselves or a new understanding of ourselves and what’s important to us.

Perhaps a re-framing of our priorities. Hopefully, more of a sense of balance and stability in our lives.

All great things. Yes?

While it is perfectly normal (and expected really) to just think about all the rewards of a deeper self-care practice, we often totally overlook the danger and risk involved.

Thus the Adventure.

For you see, all proper adventures contain certain elements. The elements of fun, excitement, surprise, the allure of something desirable to be gained… all that, yes.

And also, the elements of risk. And danger.

The possibility of cold, dark nights and moments of terror and aloneness. The possibility of failure and things ending up worse than before you began.

It’s quite normal and natural that we don’t think about these elements. Or, if they do cross our minds, that we don’t think about them too deeply.

Otherwise, why would we even begin? It’s much easier and more fun to think about self-care in terms of nourishment, happiness, spas and tropical island vacations.

Self-care, however, really *is* more akin to going on an Adventure. An Adventure with an unknown outcome.

There are moments of great reward – moments when we are blessed with insights into ourselves and a sense of deep connection, flow, ease and balance.

And, there are moments of overwhelm, terror and pain.

The importance of Allies…

Any great adventurer has Allies – people, things, resources, to aid them on their quest.

Think of Harry Potter, for instance. He has Ron and Hermione, his magic wand and his invisibility cloak as Allies, just to name a few.

Without Allies, when we hit the dangerous part of our self-care adventure, we truly are alone. We’ll likely survive, but at what cost?

With Allies, the dangerous, scary parts of the adventure can serve to connect us deeper to ourselves and reveal both:

  1. what’s missing in our lives and
  2. what’s truly important to us.

Who or what are you Allies?

In our workshop, I teach specific skills (techniques) as well as create a space where it is safe to explore and discover personal Allies.

For you, if helpful, make a list of people or techniques you can turn to when you are in one of the dark and dangerous parts of your self-care adventure.

The Other Side of Dark.

So, if self-care is so fraught with potential danger and pain, what’s the point?

Basically, committing to self-care acts as a magic wand that illuminates all the dark, scary parts in us that we’ve been avoiding. The parts of us that keep us in patterns of stress, tension and disconnection from ourselves and others.

Embarking on the Adventure of Self-Care, while it can be dangerous and painful, also brings us closer to ourselves. Every time we meet the pain and the terror with our love and attention, we grow more whole.

And, ultimately, our initial desires of being more connected, more loving, kind, and effective actually are realized.

Hallelujah.

Comment Magic:

You’re thoughts, stories, comments are adored and appreciated. As are hellos. :)

12 Comments Filed Under: Listening to Our Bodies, Self-Care