"Strangely enough, when we are willing to accommodate the painful aspects of our life fully, and we actually begin to feel that we can handle them and we don’t resist them - that’s the moment when we feel the most joy."
~ Reggie Ray
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Satisfaction and Humaness
I was on Facebook this morning and saw a post (below) by Pema Chodron. I've always loved what Pema has to say, because she is so darn human! She makes it OK to reach,to struggle, to have faults, to have fun. Most of all, she seems to teach acceptance of who we are, right now. I struggle with this notion, as a radical (and reforming) perfectionist. My clients struggle with this notion, almost everyone I know struggles with this notion.
I think I'll add a little gratitude in with that struggle.
Satisfaction
by Pema Chodron on Monday, September 19, 2011
Being satisfied with what we already have is a magical golden key to being alive in a full unrestricted, and inspired way. One of the major obstacles to what is traditionally called enlightenment is resentment, feeling cheated, holding a grudge about who you are, where you are, what you are. This is why we talk so much about making friends with ourselves, because for some reason or other, we don't feel that kind of satisfaction in a full and complete way.
Meditation is a process of lightening up, of trusting the basic goodness of what we have and who we are, and of realizing that any wisdom that exists, exists in what we already have. Our wisdom is all mixed up with what we call our neurosis. Our brilliance, our juiciness, our spiciness, is all mixed up with our craziness and our confusion and therefore it doesn't do any good to try to get rid of our so-called negative aspects, because in that process we also get rid of our basic wonderfulness. We can lead our life so as to become more awake to who we are and what we're doing rather than trying to improve or change or get rid of who we are or what we're doing. The key is to wake up, to become more alert, more inquisitive and curious about ourselves.
(Wisdom Of No Escape)
I think I'll add a little gratitude in with that struggle.
Satisfaction
by Pema Chodron on Monday, September 19, 2011
Being satisfied with what we already have is a magical golden key to being alive in a full unrestricted, and inspired way. One of the major obstacles to what is traditionally called enlightenment is resentment, feeling cheated, holding a grudge about who you are, where you are, what you are. This is why we talk so much about making friends with ourselves, because for some reason or other, we don't feel that kind of satisfaction in a full and complete way.
Meditation is a process of lightening up, of trusting the basic goodness of what we have and who we are, and of realizing that any wisdom that exists, exists in what we already have. Our wisdom is all mixed up with what we call our neurosis. Our brilliance, our juiciness, our spiciness, is all mixed up with our craziness and our confusion and therefore it doesn't do any good to try to get rid of our so-called negative aspects, because in that process we also get rid of our basic wonderfulness. We can lead our life so as to become more awake to who we are and what we're doing rather than trying to improve or change or get rid of who we are or what we're doing. The key is to wake up, to become more alert, more inquisitive and curious about ourselves.
(Wisdom Of No Escape)
Sunday, June 19, 2011
The Gifts of Imperfection
I just finished reading Brene Brown's The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are. As I finished it, I vowed to read it at least once a year. Her message inspires me to take more risks and live more fully—to be very, very alive.
Read it…really.
Below is the paragraph with which she ends the book.
"Revolution might sound a little dramatic, but in this world, choosing authenticity and worthiness is an absolute act of resistance. Choosing to live and love with our whole hearts is an act of defiance. You're going to confuse, piss off, and terrify lots of people--including yourself. One minute you'll pray that the transformation stops, and the next minute you'll pray that it never ends. You'll also wonder how you can feel so brave and so afraid at the same time. At least that's how I feel most of the time...brave, afraid, and very, very alive."
Read it…really.
Below is the paragraph with which she ends the book.
"Revolution might sound a little dramatic, but in this world, choosing authenticity and worthiness is an absolute act of resistance. Choosing to live and love with our whole hearts is an act of defiance. You're going to confuse, piss off, and terrify lots of people--including yourself. One minute you'll pray that the transformation stops, and the next minute you'll pray that it never ends. You'll also wonder how you can feel so brave and so afraid at the same time. At least that's how I feel most of the time...brave, afraid, and very, very alive."
Friday, May 27, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
How Bathroom Lines and Therapy are Related
(I have to say, I love that title!)
I was at a conference a couple weeks ago. During the break, I and many other women stood in the line waiting for three stalls. Someone in the front of me remarked that three stalls in a conference center is not enough. I silently agreed.
The next day I was at the same conference and I went into the bathroom again. This time I saw six other stalls.
What? Was I in a different bathroom? Did they magically build the new stalls overnight?
No. What was different was there was no line, with everyone oriented toward just three stalls. (To be fair, the set-up of the bathroom was not optimal and it was not easy to see the other six stalls. Still…)
I realized it would have taken one person to see beyond the spell of “line blindness” and to say “Hey, there are six other stalls we can use.” The line would have moved much faster. We all would have benefited.
Part of my work with families and individuals is to help break the spell of “this is how life works” so they see new ways to view and react to situations. When one person breaks the spell and makes a change, it is lovely to watch that change ricochet through-out the family. (I’m not saying the change is always welcomed by the other members. In general, we are not happy with change, even if it is healthy.)
The bathroom line reminded me of how powerfully our view of reality is influenced by those around us. More importantly, it reminded me of how one person can create a change that can help many.
So there you have it, how bathroom lines and therapy are related. (I am still proud of that title.)
I was at a conference a couple weeks ago. During the break, I and many other women stood in the line waiting for three stalls. Someone in the front of me remarked that three stalls in a conference center is not enough. I silently agreed.
The next day I was at the same conference and I went into the bathroom again. This time I saw six other stalls.
What? Was I in a different bathroom? Did they magically build the new stalls overnight?
No. What was different was there was no line, with everyone oriented toward just three stalls. (To be fair, the set-up of the bathroom was not optimal and it was not easy to see the other six stalls. Still…)
I realized it would have taken one person to see beyond the spell of “line blindness” and to say “Hey, there are six other stalls we can use.” The line would have moved much faster. We all would have benefited.
Part of my work with families and individuals is to help break the spell of “this is how life works” so they see new ways to view and react to situations. When one person breaks the spell and makes a change, it is lovely to watch that change ricochet through-out the family. (I’m not saying the change is always welcomed by the other members. In general, we are not happy with change, even if it is healthy.)
The bathroom line reminded me of how powerfully our view of reality is influenced by those around us. More importantly, it reminded me of how one person can create a change that can help many.
So there you have it, how bathroom lines and therapy are related. (I am still proud of that title.)
Sunday, April 17, 2011
I am one of THOSE PEOPLE
It all started with socks and Birkenstocks.
I admit it—I secretly laughed at those who did not have the sense to put a bag over their head for the shame of such a fashion faux pas as wearing socks with sandles.
One day I looked down at my feet and gasped—I had become one of *those people*. (As I write this I am wearing fuzzy purple socks with my Birks—good grief.)
I also frequently wear the same clothes, sometimes two days in a row. I used to pride myself on all the different combinations I could create. I could go months without direct repetition. I’ve also noticed that I eat more with my fingers, and with spoons. Spearing things with my fork seems like too much trouble sometimes.
I have more and less patience. I have more patience for mistakes made from innocence, or lack of knowledge, or ability. I have less patience for those who consciously choose to behave in a way I don’t think is right. (Apparently, I am not yet old enough to let go of the idea that I know what is best for all human-kind.)
For me, aging is as much about attitude as body changes. I’m quite happy with that belief; I can control my attitudes, but I’m not doing so well at stopping the aging process.
Two or three decades after I felt so sorry for those people who did not seem to care if others disapproved of them, I find I have become one of them.
So, as I walk down the street with my purple hat and Birks and socks, I can look at the young, hip people I see and think “someday, you just might look like me” and smile.
I just had a thought…if I feel this way at 49, how will I act and dress in another 20 years? It boggles my mind.
I admit it—I secretly laughed at those who did not have the sense to put a bag over their head for the shame of such a fashion faux pas as wearing socks with sandles.
One day I looked down at my feet and gasped—I had become one of *those people*. (As I write this I am wearing fuzzy purple socks with my Birks—good grief.)
I also frequently wear the same clothes, sometimes two days in a row. I used to pride myself on all the different combinations I could create. I could go months without direct repetition. I’ve also noticed that I eat more with my fingers, and with spoons. Spearing things with my fork seems like too much trouble sometimes.
I have more and less patience. I have more patience for mistakes made from innocence, or lack of knowledge, or ability. I have less patience for those who consciously choose to behave in a way I don’t think is right. (Apparently, I am not yet old enough to let go of the idea that I know what is best for all human-kind.)
For me, aging is as much about attitude as body changes. I’m quite happy with that belief; I can control my attitudes, but I’m not doing so well at stopping the aging process.
Two or three decades after I felt so sorry for those people who did not seem to care if others disapproved of them, I find I have become one of them.
So, as I walk down the street with my purple hat and Birks and socks, I can look at the young, hip people I see and think “someday, you just might look like me” and smile.
I just had a thought…if I feel this way at 49, how will I act and dress in another 20 years? It boggles my mind.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
From my teabag
“When ego is lost, limit is lost.
You become infinite, kind, beautiful.”
Well that sounds cool!
You become infinite, kind, beautiful.”
Well that sounds cool!
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Little Moments of Joy
I’m sitting here in the sun, on a sunny morning in Seattle, with a cup of tea, a bit of Theo’s chocolate, and my cat. A moment of pure joy.
Soon I will head back inside to finish a project that has consumed my week. But for now, I will revel in this moment.
Many of the clients I work with live lives of high stress, especially those who care for relatives with dementia, or who live with chronic health issues themselves. I cannot fix the diseases for them. I cannot change the reality of living with a disease.
What I can do is help them remember what is still meaningful in their lives and work with them to make the space for what is important. It is the small actions we take which help us feel a sense of control, when much of our life feels out of control.
I have a friend who was recently diagnosed with cancer. After a long meeting with her doctor she took herself out to a nice restaurant for a lovely meal. She was celebrating herself and her bravery.
When we gift ourselves with those little moments, the good feelings they create spread into the rest of our day, and our lives.
So now I head back inside, to sit in front of my computer. I take the feeling of my moments in the sun with me.
Soon I will head back inside to finish a project that has consumed my week. But for now, I will revel in this moment.
Many of the clients I work with live lives of high stress, especially those who care for relatives with dementia, or who live with chronic health issues themselves. I cannot fix the diseases for them. I cannot change the reality of living with a disease.
What I can do is help them remember what is still meaningful in their lives and work with them to make the space for what is important. It is the small actions we take which help us feel a sense of control, when much of our life feels out of control.
I have a friend who was recently diagnosed with cancer. After a long meeting with her doctor she took herself out to a nice restaurant for a lovely meal. She was celebrating herself and her bravery.
When we gift ourselves with those little moments, the good feelings they create spread into the rest of our day, and our lives.
So now I head back inside, to sit in front of my computer. I take the feeling of my moments in the sun with me.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The Teeter-Totter of Love
My friend asked me “How are you today?” I answered, “I’ve been sending myself a lot of love this week.” He responded “That makes me want to give you a hug.” I smiled…”That’s how it works, doesn’t it?” He laughed and said “Yes it is!”
Isn’t it funny that when we are feeling most needy for love, it is either fleeting or simply not there? And when we are feeling good and like ourselves, others respond in kind?
It seems like a cruel trick. I think it is brilliant.
Every time we yearn for another’s love, or affection, or approval, it is a signal from ourselves that we are not giving love to ourselves. How can we expect something external to fill what we cannot?
I’ve tried, believe you me. I have, and still am at times, learning this the hard way.
Love from others can certainly help. When someone I love gives me a compliment, or a hug, or pledges their undying love, I get a big boost, have no doubt about that. Yet I know that those boosts could disappear.
Depending on love from the outside is like a teeter-totter—if the other person bails, we come down hard on our butt, unless we have our feet underneath us.
Every time we give ourselves love, when we are happy with ourselves, and especially when we are disappointed in ourselves (especially then) we are building up the ground beneath our legs, or our legs, whichever metaphor you prefer.
It is then we can play the game of love with freedom. The game of our teeter-totter life is more fun because we can push ourselves higher—knowing we will still land—most of the time not on our butt.
Isn’t it funny that when we are feeling most needy for love, it is either fleeting or simply not there? And when we are feeling good and like ourselves, others respond in kind?
It seems like a cruel trick. I think it is brilliant.
Every time we yearn for another’s love, or affection, or approval, it is a signal from ourselves that we are not giving love to ourselves. How can we expect something external to fill what we cannot?
I’ve tried, believe you me. I have, and still am at times, learning this the hard way.
Love from others can certainly help. When someone I love gives me a compliment, or a hug, or pledges their undying love, I get a big boost, have no doubt about that. Yet I know that those boosts could disappear.
Depending on love from the outside is like a teeter-totter—if the other person bails, we come down hard on our butt, unless we have our feet underneath us.
Every time we give ourselves love, when we are happy with ourselves, and especially when we are disappointed in ourselves (especially then) we are building up the ground beneath our legs, or our legs, whichever metaphor you prefer.
It is then we can play the game of love with freedom. The game of our teeter-totter life is more fun because we can push ourselves higher—knowing we will still land—most of the time not on our butt.
Monday, March 28, 2011
How would it be?
This music video gets at the heart of what being a therapist, and indeed, life, is all about for me. I am posting it in honor of my 49th birthday and how I choose to live life, continually asking the question--"How would it be?"
With deep gratitude,
Jane/BG
With deep gratitude,
Jane/BG
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
The Gift of Grasping
When a part of us wants to grasp onto love, that part is showing us we can love ourselves more.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
My Heart Burst
Today I just got to hold a little six week old bundle of love.
It feels odd to feel so full of gratitude to hold a child as I commence on my journey to write a book for women over 40 who did not have children. My friend (the new mom) took my picture as I snuggled my cheek against the head of her son. Her comment—“You look so maternal!” I felt maternal.
Odd again.
I found myself full of wonder at this little being and profoundly happy to be in his presence. And just yesterday I was feeling grateful that I could choose to take a nap instead of having to take care of kidlets. Literally, I was just thinking that thought the day before my heart burst.
Both/and.
Not even 24 hours after I was feeling so happy to have the freedom to make decisions based on my energy level rather than the needs of a child, I witnessed the gift of an open heart an infant brings. I felt like Kathy Perry’s video, where fireworks are coming out of her chest.
(I highly recommend watching this video, it brings a smile to my face every time.)
I found myself feeling almost guilty at how happy I was to hold the baby. How could I write a book about meaning beyond motherhood if I could go so ga-ga over a baby?
Luckily, I decided that thought was silly.
Life certainly is more interesting when we can hold the both/and instead of the either/or.
It feels odd to feel so full of gratitude to hold a child as I commence on my journey to write a book for women over 40 who did not have children. My friend (the new mom) took my picture as I snuggled my cheek against the head of her son. Her comment—“You look so maternal!” I felt maternal.
Odd again.
I found myself full of wonder at this little being and profoundly happy to be in his presence. And just yesterday I was feeling grateful that I could choose to take a nap instead of having to take care of kidlets. Literally, I was just thinking that thought the day before my heart burst.
Both/and.
Not even 24 hours after I was feeling so happy to have the freedom to make decisions based on my energy level rather than the needs of a child, I witnessed the gift of an open heart an infant brings. I felt like Kathy Perry’s video, where fireworks are coming out of her chest.
(I highly recommend watching this video, it brings a smile to my face every time.)
I found myself feeling almost guilty at how happy I was to hold the baby. How could I write a book about meaning beyond motherhood if I could go so ga-ga over a baby?
Luckily, I decided that thought was silly.
Life certainly is more interesting when we can hold the both/and instead of the either/or.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
The Paradox of Grasping
Grasp onto only what you want to fly away. Test this with any cat or teenager.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Content versus Happy
I once had a boyfriend who told me “I’m happy, but I’m not content in this relationship.”
Huh? “Isn’t happy better than content?” I asked him. I forget what he said, but I didn’t understand it. We broke up. (Not, in case you are wondering, just because of that comment.)
Today, I finally got it. I’d had one of those days with both highs and lows in it. I realized I was content with the day. To me, “content” stems from an internal sense of balance. Whatever the world throws at me, I get to choose how to respond. “Happy” seems to be more externally or situationally driven. It can be more fleeting, depending on what is happening in my life.
Then it hit me…I’d rather be content than happy. I finally understand.
Thank you, Darrick, for planting that seed all those years ago.
Huh? “Isn’t happy better than content?” I asked him. I forget what he said, but I didn’t understand it. We broke up. (Not, in case you are wondering, just because of that comment.)
Today, I finally got it. I’d had one of those days with both highs and lows in it. I realized I was content with the day. To me, “content” stems from an internal sense of balance. Whatever the world throws at me, I get to choose how to respond. “Happy” seems to be more externally or situationally driven. It can be more fleeting, depending on what is happening in my life.
Then it hit me…I’d rather be content than happy. I finally understand.
Thank you, Darrick, for planting that seed all those years ago.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Realization #1927
The more tightly I try to hold onto something I believe is mine, the more fragile my possession becomes.
What I Learned from my Curling Iron
Yep, my curling iron.
I recently bought a curling iron. I think the last time I used one was in college. I will spare you the details of how I made this momentous decision.
This morning, as I was happily transforming my hair from flat and slightly annoying to bouncy and fun, I realized that I was creating beauty through damaging my hair. I reflected on other ways we become more beautiful as a result of damage or pain. There are many.
Have you heard of the term “the wounded healer?” It basically refers to the wounds that are created through life, that later become the pathway to helping others heal from similar hurts.
Ask any good therapist about this.
I had a friend in grad school, Diane, who had a daughter with Cerebral Palsy. Diane declared she would not change her daughter even if she could. I must admit, I was surprised and asked her why. She told me her daughter had taught Diane and her family what was important and beautiful in life. A wounded healer.
There are others who lose a limb, or their vision, or some other precious thing, who end up living life more fully as a result. Think of the campaigns to end drunk driving, or find lost children, or raise money for cancer, that were started by people who faced painful losses. Most of us will not face losses so momentous, or create such wide-ranging works of goodness.
However, we each face our own hurts in life, small and large. It is our choice of whether to take the pain and use it to make us stronger and more beautiful. I know it helps me, when I am faced with a setback or a failure, to figure out how I can use the situation to become wiser, or something…anything to keep me from feeling sorry for myself. It helps me to live with less regret.
Geez, I wonder what thoughts I’d have if I had bought electric curlers instead…
I recently bought a curling iron. I think the last time I used one was in college. I will spare you the details of how I made this momentous decision.
This morning, as I was happily transforming my hair from flat and slightly annoying to bouncy and fun, I realized that I was creating beauty through damaging my hair. I reflected on other ways we become more beautiful as a result of damage or pain. There are many.
Have you heard of the term “the wounded healer?” It basically refers to the wounds that are created through life, that later become the pathway to helping others heal from similar hurts.
Ask any good therapist about this.
I had a friend in grad school, Diane, who had a daughter with Cerebral Palsy. Diane declared she would not change her daughter even if she could. I must admit, I was surprised and asked her why. She told me her daughter had taught Diane and her family what was important and beautiful in life. A wounded healer.
There are others who lose a limb, or their vision, or some other precious thing, who end up living life more fully as a result. Think of the campaigns to end drunk driving, or find lost children, or raise money for cancer, that were started by people who faced painful losses. Most of us will not face losses so momentous, or create such wide-ranging works of goodness.
However, we each face our own hurts in life, small and large. It is our choice of whether to take the pain and use it to make us stronger and more beautiful. I know it helps me, when I am faced with a setback or a failure, to figure out how I can use the situation to become wiser, or something…anything to keep me from feeling sorry for myself. It helps me to live with less regret.
Geez, I wonder what thoughts I’d have if I had bought electric curlers instead…
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Missed Opportunities
In the past month, I learned that two people I greatly respect but don’t know very well, are moving out of town. Both of them I have wanted to get to know better, but I put off doing anything about it until I had more time.
Time’s up.
I am very good at putting things off. I was in graduate school for ten years. I honed putting things off until I had more time, more money, I graduated, etc., into a fine art. “Delayed gratification” became my middle name.
I have made great strides in breaking that pattern. The paperwork on my desk attests to that.
And two fine people moving out of town before I get a chance to know them, makes me realize I have some more striding to do.
I remember years ago when I was taking off in an airplane I thought “If I died today, what would I regret not doing?” It was getting in touch with a friend with whom I’d lost contact. That surprised me; I thought it would be about countries I hadn’t visited, or not having children, or something else really big. Calling an old friend is easy.
You can bet your boots I called her when I got home. (This was before cell phones became common.)
I invite you, dear reader, to look at where in your life you put things off that could enrich your life. They might be simpler than you think.
Time’s up.
I am very good at putting things off. I was in graduate school for ten years. I honed putting things off until I had more time, more money, I graduated, etc., into a fine art. “Delayed gratification” became my middle name.
I have made great strides in breaking that pattern. The paperwork on my desk attests to that.
And two fine people moving out of town before I get a chance to know them, makes me realize I have some more striding to do.
I remember years ago when I was taking off in an airplane I thought “If I died today, what would I regret not doing?” It was getting in touch with a friend with whom I’d lost contact. That surprised me; I thought it would be about countries I hadn’t visited, or not having children, or something else really big. Calling an old friend is easy.
You can bet your boots I called her when I got home. (This was before cell phones became common.)
I invite you, dear reader, to look at where in your life you put things off that could enrich your life. They might be simpler than you think.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Living Outside Assumptions
Most of the time I am totally fine not living the life of 2.5 kids, a husband, and a picket fence. But every once in awhile I get a bit peeved that people assume I have those things.
This time it occurred as I was answering security questions for my on-line banking. The majority of questions were about children and spouses. The problem is, I don’t have kids or a spouse. I was a bit stumped as to how I was going to choose five questions to answer unless I made up the answers.
That didn’t seem like a wise plan.
Luckily, as I scrolled down I could answer questions about my parents and grandparents, or where I was born. I was not doomed to a life without on-line banking.
A couple of years ago, a woman said to me “You have children right?” I said “no.” She smiled and replied “Well, it’s not too late.” I wish I would have had the presence of mind to answer “That statement assumes several things, none of which are true” then smile graciously.
This time it occurred as I was answering security questions for my on-line banking. The majority of questions were about children and spouses. The problem is, I don’t have kids or a spouse. I was a bit stumped as to how I was going to choose five questions to answer unless I made up the answers.
That didn’t seem like a wise plan.
Luckily, as I scrolled down I could answer questions about my parents and grandparents, or where I was born. I was not doomed to a life without on-line banking.
A couple of years ago, a woman said to me “You have children right?” I said “no.” She smiled and replied “Well, it’s not too late.” I wish I would have had the presence of mind to answer “That statement assumes several things, none of which are true” then smile graciously.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
The Gift of Wrinkles
Today I realized I was furious that I am getting older. To be more precise, I was furious that my body shows the signs of getting older. I also realized I was jealous of younger women and of women my age who look younger than I look. Ick.
Those are not pleasant feelings, my friends. Yet I have them.
As I sat there, trying not to quash my feelings, but to simply hold them, a question came to my mind—“What do I do with these feelings?” I can’t act on them. What would I do, go around to all the women I perceive as more beautiful than I and tell them to stop their beauty? The mere thought makes me laugh. Besides, they are likely having the same feelings about other women. I can’t pretend I don’t have the feelings and the fear behind them. The farther I get into this work the more I see how futile that is.
The question remains, what do I do? Then came the answer.
I live.
I live knowing that this lifetime is not endless; my aging body shows me that. I live knowing how precious life is, because one day I will die. I live the absolute beauty of life.
I recognized all the signs of aging I hate—the thinning skin, the circles under my eyes, the graying hair, the various joint and muscles ailments—all are signs of my amazing life—the life with which I have already been gifted, and the life I have yet to explore.
Now, instead of looking at my wrinkles in disgust and fear, I have the choice to see them as reminders of my cherished life, and have my eyes, and heart, fill with gratitude.
Those are not pleasant feelings, my friends. Yet I have them.
As I sat there, trying not to quash my feelings, but to simply hold them, a question came to my mind—“What do I do with these feelings?” I can’t act on them. What would I do, go around to all the women I perceive as more beautiful than I and tell them to stop their beauty? The mere thought makes me laugh. Besides, they are likely having the same feelings about other women. I can’t pretend I don’t have the feelings and the fear behind them. The farther I get into this work the more I see how futile that is.
The question remains, what do I do? Then came the answer.
I live.
I live knowing that this lifetime is not endless; my aging body shows me that. I live knowing how precious life is, because one day I will die. I live the absolute beauty of life.
I recognized all the signs of aging I hate—the thinning skin, the circles under my eyes, the graying hair, the various joint and muscles ailments—all are signs of my amazing life—the life with which I have already been gifted, and the life I have yet to explore.
Now, instead of looking at my wrinkles in disgust and fear, I have the choice to see them as reminders of my cherished life, and have my eyes, and heart, fill with gratitude.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Ok, I’m writing a book
Those of you who don’t know me are probably not picking your jaw off the floor, as my friends likely are. After all, my motto in college was “writing is the bane of my life.”
Then I went on to get a Master’s (with a dissertation-length thesis.) Apparently, not yet having had enough of my bane, I pursued a PhD. I even published research articles after I got out of school, bitterly complaining about how much I don’t like to write the entire time I was doing all this writing. Just wacky.
So you may ask, “Jane, why then, are you writing a book?” That is a fabulous question!
Because I am excited about it. Because people keep saying “you should write a book.” Because the women in each group I run continue to inspire me with ideas. Because it is time to let more women know and benefit from the work I do.
So, periodically I will post blogs asking questions, soliciting stories, and checking out ideas. I may even gripe about my wacky decision to write a book.
Just giving you a heads-up, dear reader.
Then I went on to get a Master’s (with a dissertation-length thesis.) Apparently, not yet having had enough of my bane, I pursued a PhD. I even published research articles after I got out of school, bitterly complaining about how much I don’t like to write the entire time I was doing all this writing. Just wacky.
So you may ask, “Jane, why then, are you writing a book?” That is a fabulous question!
Because I am excited about it. Because people keep saying “you should write a book.” Because the women in each group I run continue to inspire me with ideas. Because it is time to let more women know and benefit from the work I do.
So, periodically I will post blogs asking questions, soliciting stories, and checking out ideas. I may even gripe about my wacky decision to write a book.
Just giving you a heads-up, dear reader.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Judgment and Freedom
The other day I found myself making judgments about others and about myself for having those judgments. I considered what it would be like to live without judgments.
I had no idea.
A little while later I was struck with this idea—if I no longer felt the need to judge anyone, including myself, I would be free. Free to simply live and make choices (and to live with the consequences of those choices).
Then I started to cry, and to laugh, at the enormity of that freedom. I am still a bit awed by the possibility.
I had no idea.
A little while later I was struck with this idea—if I no longer felt the need to judge anyone, including myself, I would be free. Free to simply live and make choices (and to live with the consequences of those choices).
Then I started to cry, and to laugh, at the enormity of that freedom. I am still a bit awed by the possibility.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Compassionate Choices
I’ve been thinking a lot about what gives life meaning. For me, friendship and experiences help remind me of what is valuable.
Last week I introduced two (way cool) friends of mine, and we had a delightful conversation that covered a myriad of topics. Then I trotted over to a concert by Peter Himmelman http://www.peterhimmelman.com/home.html who I’ve been seeing in concert for at least 15 years. Every concert is different and, funnily enough, most of his songs are about what makes life meaningful.
I’ve been talking with some clients about the power we have to choose the focus of our thoughts. There are many things I would like to have in my life that are not currently part of it. I could absolutely focus on those, and see all I am missing.
I could also choose to focus on all the aspects of my life that make it rich. There are many, both big and small. Nights like the one I mentioned above make that choice effortless.
We always have the choice to see the good in any situation, even when it is not so easy. I think the trick is to understand we have the option. Just as important, though, is the ability to have compassion for ourselves when we don’t make the choice to see the positive.
Compassion, though, will make future choices a little bit easier, I promise.
Last week I introduced two (way cool) friends of mine, and we had a delightful conversation that covered a myriad of topics. Then I trotted over to a concert by Peter Himmelman http://www.peterhimmelman.com/home.html who I’ve been seeing in concert for at least 15 years. Every concert is different and, funnily enough, most of his songs are about what makes life meaningful.
I’ve been talking with some clients about the power we have to choose the focus of our thoughts. There are many things I would like to have in my life that are not currently part of it. I could absolutely focus on those, and see all I am missing.
I could also choose to focus on all the aspects of my life that make it rich. There are many, both big and small. Nights like the one I mentioned above make that choice effortless.
We always have the choice to see the good in any situation, even when it is not so easy. I think the trick is to understand we have the option. Just as important, though, is the ability to have compassion for ourselves when we don’t make the choice to see the positive.
Compassion, though, will make future choices a little bit easier, I promise.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
The Blessing of not Being Chosen (just in time for Valentine’s Day)
Life is rife with possibilities to not be chosen.
Rejection, maybe.
Opportunity, definitely.
Each time we are not chosen, we have the opportunity to choose ourselves.
Rejection, maybe.
Opportunity, definitely.
Each time we are not chosen, we have the opportunity to choose ourselves.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
A sure-fire way to know something brings joy and meaning to your life
When you are so busy, you can barely see straight, and someone proposes something to you, and you immediately say “yes!” without a thought. (At least, without a thought before speaking…you may have many thoughts afterward.)
This happened to me the other day. A neighbor and I were chatting outside. She asked me if I was free for coffee on Friday. I responded “yes!” almost before she finished the question. Now, just half an hour earlier, I was thinking about everything I was going to get done Friday morning, and how it really wasn’t enough time. Yet I found myself willy-nilly giving away a precious hour or so of that time without a second thought.
Later, during my second thoughts, I asked myself, why I did that. I realized that to me, connecting with people is one of the most meaningful activities in my life. (Being a therapist is *such* a perfect job for me.) It is so much more fun than the paperwork I was planning.
Does this mean we should *always* say yes when offered something that brings us joy? I will leave that for you to answer. What I know, is that if I ever wonder if my life is meaningful, I have an interaction as simple as a cup of coffee with a friend to give me my answer.
This happened to me the other day. A neighbor and I were chatting outside. She asked me if I was free for coffee on Friday. I responded “yes!” almost before she finished the question. Now, just half an hour earlier, I was thinking about everything I was going to get done Friday morning, and how it really wasn’t enough time. Yet I found myself willy-nilly giving away a precious hour or so of that time without a second thought.
Later, during my second thoughts, I asked myself, why I did that. I realized that to me, connecting with people is one of the most meaningful activities in my life. (Being a therapist is *such* a perfect job for me.) It is so much more fun than the paperwork I was planning.
Does this mean we should *always* say yes when offered something that brings us joy? I will leave that for you to answer. What I know, is that if I ever wonder if my life is meaningful, I have an interaction as simple as a cup of coffee with a friend to give me my answer.
On Gratitude and Fireballs
I went to a talk on creative aging last spring. An audience member asked how the speakers how to cope with those “dark night of the soul” moments. One of the presenters gave a very simple answer—give thanks. More specifically, he said he starts each day with a practice of gratitude. When he wakes up, he tries to make his first thoughts ones of thanks for whatever the day will bring—a powerful practice.
Here is one reason why. When we are happy, we are more likely to remember happy memories. When we are depressed, sad memories are more easily accessible. That is how the brain works; memories are more easily accessible when we are in the same mental state as when the memories were created.
Starting the day with gratitude makes it easier to access thoughts of gratitude throughout the rest of the day.
On a related note, another presenter I recently saw, John Erdman http://www.ideal-companies.com, said he starts each day by jumping out of bed, putting his hands in the air, and shouting “I am a fireball!” It revs up his entire day.
I tried it. The first day was a pretty pathetic attempt. The second day was a bit less dismal. Now I have quite a bit of fun jumping out of bed.
You can try your own experiment. Start each day with thanks, with fireballs, or with both. See how your day progresses. If you try the experiment, let me know how it works.
Here is one reason why. When we are happy, we are more likely to remember happy memories. When we are depressed, sad memories are more easily accessible. That is how the brain works; memories are more easily accessible when we are in the same mental state as when the memories were created.
Starting the day with gratitude makes it easier to access thoughts of gratitude throughout the rest of the day.
On a related note, another presenter I recently saw, John Erdman http://www.ideal-companies.com, said he starts each day by jumping out of bed, putting his hands in the air, and shouting “I am a fireball!” It revs up his entire day.
I tried it. The first day was a pretty pathetic attempt. The second day was a bit less dismal. Now I have quite a bit of fun jumping out of bed.
You can try your own experiment. Start each day with thanks, with fireballs, or with both. See how your day progresses. If you try the experiment, let me know how it works.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Crying
Crying is powerful. When we cry we release. We release our fears, our sorrow, our anger, our beliefs that hold us back.
I am in the uniquely wonderful position of witnessing the healing qualities of crying. So many of us are taught not to cry in front of others (or at all); we apologize and hide our face. We are afraid we are weak and look ugly when we express our pain. Who came up with that silly idea?
The idea that something so natural and cleansing looks unattractive and is weak is, simply put, wacky.
I say let’s embrace the grace and release that crying brings. If we could all cry to let go our emotions when we feel them, instead of stuffing them in and holding them in our body, we would be so much healthier and content.
So, the next time someone cries in front of you, consider thanking them for their bravery. Even better, next time you cry, thank yourself for your courage.
I am in the uniquely wonderful position of witnessing the healing qualities of crying. So many of us are taught not to cry in front of others (or at all); we apologize and hide our face. We are afraid we are weak and look ugly when we express our pain. Who came up with that silly idea?
The idea that something so natural and cleansing looks unattractive and is weak is, simply put, wacky.
I say let’s embrace the grace and release that crying brings. If we could all cry to let go our emotions when we feel them, instead of stuffing them in and holding them in our body, we would be so much healthier and content.
So, the next time someone cries in front of you, consider thanking them for their bravery. Even better, next time you cry, thank yourself for your courage.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Chicken Soup for the Whole
Wholeness. That's it. That is why I run my groups for women over 40 without children. I lead those groups as a pathway for women to see themselves as complete and whole.
Complete whether or not they have children. Complete whether or not they have partners. Complete whether or not they have jobs, friends, a house, a degree, whatever it is by which we judge our wholeness.
The 7th group for women over 40 with out children started yesterday, on the Martin Luther King Holiday. A couple of the women mentioned the freedom they have in their lives because they don't have children. They gave thanks for the freedom they have as women, freedom our foremothers didn't have.
To see ourselves as whole, regardless of our external or internal circumstances is freedom--perhaps the greatest freedom we can have.
Complete whether or not they have children. Complete whether or not they have partners. Complete whether or not they have jobs, friends, a house, a degree, whatever it is by which we judge our wholeness.
The 7th group for women over 40 with out children started yesterday, on the Martin Luther King Holiday. A couple of the women mentioned the freedom they have in their lives because they don't have children. They gave thanks for the freedom they have as women, freedom our foremothers didn't have.
To see ourselves as whole, regardless of our external or internal circumstances is freedom--perhaps the greatest freedom we can have.
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