5/2/14—Being Bigger Than We Are

This is a repeat post of mine from last July. As I read over it tonight, I realized how relevant it was to something that happened recently in my life and I thought I'd share again.

It talks about crickets. They're not out this time of year, but pretend they are.

I'd had quite a stressful and humbling and annoying and insecure and crazy-making week week. And over the weekend, I feel like I integrated a lot of what I had learned and experienced. So last night I sat on my little storage bench on my back deck to meditate, as I do many nights. And as I was going into that state, I had the lingerings of last week and the insecurities it dredged up on my mind. So just as my head was going blank, I heard a very clear voice say, "you're so much bigger than that".

This wasn't about being superior or "too wise" or "too good" to concern myself with the people and situations at the center of my stress. Rather it was about how the essence of me...my soul...was bigger than the things that occupy my human mind here on this earth.

The thought was profound to me. I mean, obviously I know I'm a soul in a human body and all of that. And I've even got messages about how pedestrian some of our issues are from the vantage point of the soul. But this was the first time I'd considered it in THIS way....that I truly am bigger than the concerns I focus on day in and day out. I have dominion over them. So why keep letting them have dominion over me?

So as I sat listening to the crickets, it occurred to me that some things are truly important here. Some of the lessons we learn and people we connect with. But the lingerings of our angst, the pettiness of things we turn over and over in our minds, the confrontations and the soup of insignificance we steep in...we're bigger than that. We're bigger than our egos. We're bigger than anything we ever encounter on this earth.

My stresses of the past week ushered in an important lesson for me. But most of the angst and thought around it is stuff that matters not to the soul. The soul will carry the lessons you've learned throughout eternity. But all the other baggage that goes with it? The soul is bigger than that. Which means YOU are/can be/should be bigger than that. 

My friend K will read this and remember when I told her to measure her anger and worries and angst on the scale of "will this matter in my life five years from now?". You can brush off a lot of annoyances and set aside a lot of mundane worries using that scale to eyeball the importance of things and whether or not they're worth wasting your time over. 

But now here's another yardstick—is this thing that's occupying your mind...this thing you're not letting go of...is it bigger than you? Is it, in the form you're thinking of it now, something to carry through the ages? Or are you bigger than it? Have you taken the lesson that's relevant to your soul and moved forward knowing that no amount of whining and marinating is going to add to what you've already learned? 

It's amazing how easily you can let go of something, snap back into perspective and rise above when you remember how big you truly are. 

As I said at the beginning of this blog, all of this happened last year. But this past weekend I was hit with something challenging to my ego self and I remembered I was bigger than that. And I made a different choice because of it. I made a choice that spread love and not angst. And I'm proud of that...proud of remembering I'm so much more than my fears and can greet them with grace. We choose how we respond to things. We can always make a different and better choice.

4/30/14—Apologizing Graciously

For one reason or another, I guess I'm just not the kind of person people apologize to. 

Either that, or people just aren't very good at apologizing. It's probably the latter. And I'll admit there's plenty I've never apologized for myself, especially when I have no intention of ever seeing the person or speaking to them again. But the lack of apology still weighs on me, whether I'm the one who's failed to apologize or they are.

I confess there's a lot I've let slide in the past based on a muttered, half-assed apology from the offender. I've had fantasies of saying to offenders, "what exactly are you apologizing to me for?" in hopes of getting them to speak their crimes out loud. But in reality, I take the muttered generic/blanket apology and move forward because I know hard it can be to apologize. 

When people HAVE adequately apologized to me, though, I've immediately melted. In fact, one apology stands out and it's why I'm writing today. It stands out, in part, because like I said, it's so rare to receive a genuine apology. But it also stands out because it was voiced in such a way that it was clear my friendship to this person was more important to them than their need to be right.

What they did doesn't much matter. They thought they were doing something nice for me, but instead it was something that left me feeling uncomfortable, embarrassed and misunderstood. I was a little angry and frustrated when I asked them not to do it again, but I acknowledged that I understood they were trying to help me out. I don't even know that I expected them to apologize. All I wanted was for them to understand my side and promise not to do it again. But instead of justifying or explaining their actions, they said "I'm so sorry. You're totally right about that. I was wrong. Please forgive me."

Frankly, it stunned and disarmed me. It also made me feel bad because I knew their intentions were good. But more than anything, the fact that they didn't try to argue or justify their point, combined with the humility it takes to accept full responsibility for something, made me feel very important to this person. And it taught me a valuable lesson about the things that are more important than being right. Things like friendship, integrity, self respect and, quite honestly, the inner peace of knowing you've done the mature thing. I believe it was right to confront them and define my boundaries, but I felt bad afterward because, in the absence of their need to be right, I saw my own need to hold on to my "right" position.

The image/saying I posted today is known as the "Ho'oponopono Prayer". Hawaiians and those of the South Pacific believe that error and wrongness causes illness. So reconciliation and forgiveness are common rituals performed as part of daily life. Beyond that, they feel that taking responsibility for everything in your life is important, even if it's that someone misunderstood your intentions. Even if it involves war and starvation and other matters not directly impacting you that are "out of your control". If you feel bad about it, it's yours to heal. And healing happens through the prayer...I love you. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you.

Think about some injustice in the world. Visualize it while saying those words. It will help you feel better. It will help release the burden you feel about your helplessness. Then think of something you've done to yourself and say the same words. It might move you as it moved me. Then think of how healing it would be for you to use those words with someone you know you've wronged.

I think we probably all underestimate the burden we carry at the hands of our own bad behavior, whether that bad behavior happens one to one or as part of your participation in a society or group that has hurt others, whether you've played a direct role or not. You don't even have to be in the same room with the person to recite the prayer to them. They might not even be alive. The energy will nonetheless benefit you and flow to them.

Last week we spoke of forgiveness and how it's more for you than the other person. While I think the best practice is to apologize directly to the other person, especially when it matters to you, the same could be said about asking for forgiveness. Acknowledging to the universe that you've done wrong and hope to be forgiven by someone you no longer maintain contact with can be just as powerful for you as if the apology had been timely and face-to-face. We've probably all given apologies that were less than graciously received or even, in some cases, made the other person angrier. Through a practice like this, you can learn to forgive yourself, regardless of whether the other person forgives or not. 

4/28/14—Becoming a Woman

Here I am, at the age of 51, finally coming around to a place where I feel I'm finally a woman. I guess some of us are just late bloomers. 

First, though, it's important to acknowledge that there are many different definitions of what signifies a woman becoming a woman. When we begin menstruation, we're told "you're a woman now." But none of us really are. When we have sex the first time, some will consider us a woman, but that's not necessarily so. Some might cross the line when they get married or have a baby. I don't know anything about either of those things, but my guess is they're more likely to make you a wife or mother than a woman. People will say "you're not truly grown up until both of your parents die." That turned out to be hogwash. Then there are certain ages at which society deems you most assuredly a woman...21, 30, 35, for example. 

None of those things made me FEEL like a woman, though. Many of them were, indeed,

portals into more mature and responsible versions of myself. But what it comes down to is a) how do you define being a woman (or man)? and b) do you feel like you're there?

To me, a woman is self referenced. That means that she doesn't look outside of herself—to lovers or family members or friends—to get her validation. So she doesn't care how it looks to be alone, eccentric, loud, colorful or any other adjective that makes her stick out. She takes full responsibility for her actions. She's not afraid to be brutally honest with herself. She's not afraid to show her soft side or her harder side. She confidently and compassionately walks her own path and stands in her own power. She protects and nurtures (rather than indulges) that which she loves. She moves toward greater mental, physical, emotional and spiritual health. And she has her priorities straight. She is Mary Magdalene, Catherine the Great, the Statue of Liberty, Katharine Hepburn and Oprah all rolled up in one.

Throughout my 20s and 30s and much of my 40s, I did not feel like a woman. I still felt girlish in many ways. It felt more like I was young at heart, but in retrospect, I was young in soul, too. I certainly looked like a woman, paid a mortgage like a woman and conducted business like a woman. But I conducted most of my relationships like a young girl. I gave my power to men and others, then lamented the decisions they made in regard to me. I made choices that weren't aligned with my highest and best self. I could sometimes be like a bull in a china shop. I had all the earmarks of a woman, but I didn't feel like one, primarily because I wasn't ready to let go of my youthful demeanor.

But something happened in the past few years and the girlishness is gone. Not in a bad way. I still feel youthful. But the girl is a woman now. It's hard to explain. I don't feel like I've lost a thing, rather I feel like I've blossomed. Gone is the girl's self consciousness...her feelings of powerlessness...her petty ways...her need to fight against, rather than to fight for. 

Pagans have this "maiden, mother, crone" thing to show the three phases of womanhood,

attached largely to menstrual cycles. Here I sit on the front stoop of cronehood and I am only now beginning to feel like a woman. It's absolutely not the way I thought it worked, but I can't be the only one feeling this way at such an "advanced age"...haha. 

What defines womanhood to you and when did you feel like a woman? How about manhood? What makes us the fully developed example of our species? And for those of you who feel so beyond this, what IS beyond this? What do you have to say about all this?

4/25/14—Adjusting to Growth

There are a lot things nobody tells you when you're on the spiritual path. You just have to learn them for yourself. 

In fact, one of my many book ideas, and the one closest to be submitted to a publisher, is called "10 Things The Spiritual Gurus Never Tell You". One of those things is that, for those who are really pushing themselves to grow, it can be a lonely and painful process. 

If you're like me, when you first started exploring your spiritual beliefs or personal growth, you were like a doe-eyed kid, thinking you'd be walking a rainbow path filled with unicorns to a place where happiness is more abundant than sunlight. I've been actively pursuing and observing the spiritual and personal paths of growth most of my life now and I can confidently say nobody's happy all the time. I think you become more in balance. You learn to surround yourself with things that fuel you and lift you higher. But no matter how much you stack the deck in your favor, life happens. Things suck. Balance is lost. 

Balance is lost, in fact, every time you grow. And you're always growing. You move from one level to the next and you have to find a new balance in the new place. 

For the most part, growth is slow and steady. It's manageable. But there are times you might find yourself taking a quantum leap. Let's take gossip as an example. Say the friends you're with right now get together every Friday for coffee and to chat about people you know in common. And let's say this is no longer OK with you. Maybe you tell people you don't like the gossiping, but they say they're just having fun. So you no longer enjoy the coffee dates. And one day you don't go. And you decide not to go again. And since the reason everyone gets together on Fridays is because everyone is so busy, it's not easy to get together with people individually. So you don't see these people that much anymore. And you miss the camaraderie. And you know they now talk about YOU sometimes. 

On the one hand, you're feeling the benefits of not having all that gossip energy in your life anymore. You're feeling lighter...more "at one" with the universe. You're feeling better about who you are. But you're not part of "the gang" anymore. And meeting a new gang is going slowly. And you feel lonely, even depressed, when you think too much about who they're probably talking about now.

One of the things nobody ever tells you is that, if you're really consciously trying to improve yourself, you'll lose a lot of friends. And meet new ones, yes. But in between, it's lonely. And when you draw a line in the sand in your life that says "no more gossiping" or whatever, it's hard. Because the part of you that liked that still wants it. You want that part to fade away, and it will. But in between, it's hard. And the whole tamale can be painful as you move from one place to another and try to find your footing. 

You know you've done the right thing and LIKE you've done the right thing, but it doesn't always feel good. You miss the comfort and familiarity of the old way and you went and leaped into a new way that isn't quite comfortable yet. Isn't quite familiar. You're like a man without a country for a while until you make this new thing your home. And it will be your home. And you will never look back in regret. But where are the rainbows? Where are the unicorns? 

I think if we knew how hard and lonely it can be, we might never push ourselves to grow. Maybe that's why this is something we have to learn for ourselves. Certainly it would be easier in many ways to just quietly conform to the conditions around us...not ruffle any feathers. I mean, some people just never seem to change much and they're good with that. But we're not really that type, are we?

I'm not sure there's a moral to today's entry. Just something they never tell you that you have to learn for yourself. If you're feeling left out and a little lost because you've outgrown friends or situations, it's normal. The same kind of situation happens when maybe you quit drinking. Or you get divorced. With everything gained along the spiritual and/or personal path of growth, something is lost...a piece of who you were is left behind. Trying to stay that person, though, is more painful than the temporary pain of change for people who have committed their lives to a path of growth. So it can hurt. And be sad. But the place you've just moved into is a place of greater freedom and firmer balance than the place before. It's just an adjustment before the benefits roll and everything else becomes a distant memory.

4/23/14—Understanding Forgiveness

My last blog inspired a whole different conversation about forgiveness on my Facebook wall. While many feel the pain that holding on perpetuates in their lives, they also feel forgiveness is somehow a defeat or permission or an affirmation of bad behavior. Forgiveness is none of those things. It's actually your only route back to peace...a victory nobody can deny you. Here's a classic post from the archives that might help.

Forgiveness is a tough topic, primarily because people have so many different definitions of it. You look in the dictionary and see words like "pardon" and "absolve" and say "hells to the no! I ain't doing THAT!" And I agree. That's tantamount to saying "I wipe your indiscretion clean" in my book. That's not going to happen. 

Oprah's favorite definition of forgiveness is "giving up the hope that the past could ever be different." That makes a lot of sense. Because that's what we push up against...we want things a) to be made right or b) to have never happened in the first place. Neither of those things will ever happen. So when we let go of the desire for the past to be different, the bad feelings we hold go with it. I get that and it all sounds really reasonable and nice, but it's a little soft for what I'm really feeling in the moment of anger.

So I came up with a different definition befitting the drama I feel at the time, and that is: "I will no longer stew in toxins over what you did". I personally believe I was born uniquely qualified to stew in toxins, so forgiveness means setting aside my playtime with my "special gift". Some of the time forgiveness also means that I "get" it...I get why you did whatever you did and while I don't agree with it, I do get it. In short, I come to peace with what happened. But understanding and being at peace with what happened are NOT requirements of forgiveness. They just make it easier.

Whether I'm at peace with it it or not doesn't mean I'll ever talk to you again, though. It just means that I'll stop ramming pins into the poppet I made in your likeness and I'll move my anger down to a simmer. And then I'll let it cool and evaporate. Some people, like family, will remain in my life and our relationship will carry on (albeit changed). Others, depending upon the crime and the amount of personal responsibility acknowledged, may not. 

For me, forgiveness also does not include forgetting. I will never forget. Come crawling back five or ten years later thinking I forgot, and you will find that I have not. I will likely be kind to you because I am a kind person. But I will not forget. I will not invite you in for tea. We will not laugh about "old times". I will not inquire about your pet rabbit. And I will not encourage our conversation to linger. Remembering is my prize in the Cracker Jack box of forgiveness. You can make me eat the sugary, stale brown popcorn of letting go, but the prize is mine to keep, dammit!

Ultimately, forgiveness isn't something you do for anyone other than yourself. In fact, they don't need to know you've forgiven them. It's not a gift for you to bestow on them. It's a gift you bestow upon yourself. You do it to release the toxic effects of anger, pain and hurt from your body, mind and soul. In some cases, you do it because you refuse to allow the other person to take anymore of your peace of mind than they have already taken. You may not like hearing this, but refusing to forgive is choosing to remain a victim.

Carrying stuff like pain, betrayal and violation changes the chemicals in your body. It keeps you chained to the past. It keeps you from creating better situations in your life.It can give you cancer. And it closes off your heart to others. Forgiveness reopens your heart to others—maybe not to the offender, but to yourself and others you care about. The energy of bitterness toward one person pervades every other relationship you have as long as you hold on to it. Don't fool yourself that it doesn't.

Every one of us will be in two positions in our lives—we will be the forgiver, as I've already discussed. And we will be the one who needs to be forgiven. The crime we committed may be one perpetrated against someone else or against ourselves. In each case, we will not find forgiveness anywhere outside of ourselves. 

"What?" you say? Yeah, you heard me. No one can forgive you but yourself. You don't need anyone else's forgiveness to be forgiven. Their forgiveness is for them, remember? So all that time you spend thinking, "I really wish Tommy would forgive me" is really just you saying "I wish I could get to a place where I forgive myself for what I did to Tommy". Tommy's forgiveness means nothing if you can't forgive yourself. And if you forgive yourself, you don't really need Tommy's forgiveness to move forward. Do the math and you'll see Tommy's forgiveness is irrelevant. Sure, it would be nice to know he "gets it", but you don't need it. 

On a final note, I have never, to my recollection, ever purposely done anything to anyone to get revenge. If that's your thing, you're just creating bad karma for yourself. The universe makes all scores even and, from my observation, is much better at it than I am. It's actually possible that whatever was done to you was something you had coming from some "crime" you committed years ago against someone else. So get off your high horse and stop thinking you get to be god because someone "done you wrong". It's not your job to judge, convict and sentence others. Do that and you'll just continue the cycle of nastiness in your life. Because all scores are made even, including the ones you commit against the natural order. 

Listen, in the end, we all screw up. And sometimes the offending act is actually a gift waking us up to a relationship that's gone past its sell-by date. Sometimes its waking us up to something that needs to change in a treasured dynamic. Sometimes it's telling us something we didn't previously know or acknowledge about someone we care about, thereby giving us the opportunity to know them deeper, whether we continue with the relationship or not. And sometimes it's telling us something we didn't know about ourselves and our choices in life. 

The gifts of these situations can be lost in the anger. So always remember to ask yourself, "what did this betrayal (or whatever) come here to show me?" While forgiveness truly is a gift you give yourself, many times that gift is just the cherry on top of a much bigger one. Don't let your anger blind you to that.

Adapted from a post originally made on 7/3/12.

4/21/14—Remembering Perspective

April is a month that holds a lot of painful memories for my family, and even more so for me.

26 years ago on the 9th, my father was murdered (by a black widow) and me and my siblings became parentless. Five years ago on the 21st, I was told to say goodbye to my beloved companion, Passion the dog, because she may not make it through the night. And two years ago on the same date I said goodbye to my brother.

This year, when I turned 51, I became someone who had lived more of my life without parents than with them. Most who read this will never know what that's like. My mother died while I was still in college, so I never knew her as an adult. I've never heard a parent tell me they're proud of the person I've become and I've never gotten to tell them face to face that it's all because of what they gave me.

Another thing most of you will never know is what it's like to live 26 years knowing your father's murderer is free, alive and living off his pension in Florida. You may never experience the complete failure of the American justice system firsthand. You'll never have to let go of something so maddening in order to save your own sanity. You'll never have to see what something like that does to the people you love. And you'll probably never have someone who, despite your spiritual beliefs, you wait and hope patiently for decades to die, because it will be the only form of justice you'll ever see. 

On the upside of all of this, I have a few friends whose parents have Altzheimers or who have to struggle with the decision to put their parents in a home. And I'm truly grateful I'll never have to deal with that. I think you're more resilient when you're younger. Losing my brother a couple of years ago was very hard, primarily because of the history we had together. And while you expect your parents to die, having a sibling die is somehow a thought that never occurs to you until it happens. But I think the longer you have someone in your life, the harder it can be in many ways. Also, the older you get, the more sentimental you become.

I'm thinking of all of this because these anniversaries tick by and we don't often speak of them. We just take them in silently. And Monday (today or tomorrow, depending on when you're reading) marks the anniversary of the final hours of my "first born" dog and the final minutes of my fourth born sibling. Aside from remembering them and continuing to talk to them in their current form, I think one of the best ways to honor our departed loved ones is through perspective. That's one of the gifts we all receive when someone we love dies.

Is what you're going through right now as bad as losing your brother? Is it as bad as what he went through, knowing he was leaving his wife alone with with four children to raise? Is it as painful as going through a year of civil and criminal trials while grieving your father's death? Is it worth losing your dignity and integrity over when you've been able to hold on to both for 26 years while waiting for justice to happen? Is it as big a loss as losing the only person who would ever love you unconditionally? Is it as crushing and defeating as knowing there's nothing more you can do to save the life of a being you raised from a puppy and who taught you some of life's most valuable lessons?

We go through life, myself included, and get all worked up about the stupidest shit. We let small things hold us back and defeat us when we've slain much bigger monsters in our lives. We've lost bigger things, had bigger worries, faced bigger fears, overcome greater challenges, forgiven greater slights. And yet, there are times we forget how strong and resilient we are. We forget how blessed we've been and how blessed we still are. 

And the same is true about life's victories. We forget how many times our prayers were answered, how often our dreams were realized and our thoughts became tangible. So many times what looked like inevitable defeat turned into a great blessing. So frequently the things that brought us great pain also brought us valuable gifts. 

Is something that's weighing heavily on your mind really as big as it seems? Or is it just distracting you from addressing something even bigger? 

Is the annoyance that's currently in your life worth all the energy you're putting into it? Or is minuscule in comparison what you've weathered in the past?

Are you really on the verge of utter defeat? Or have you forgotten just how strong you truly are?

Does everything around you seem hopelessly bleak? Or does it look just like the same darkness before the dawn you've experienced before?

Some who are reading this are truly facing epic moments in their lives...the kind that put all other moments in perspective. Some may have never faced anything truly difficult and, therefore have little perspective. But the rest of us—most of us, I would imagine—are occupying our minds with things that, in the context of what we've already experienced, are trivial at best or a speed bump at worst. 

Perspective is one of the greatest gifts that comes from the tragedies and difficulties in our lives. It reminds us how big we are. How blessed we are. How strong. Resilient. Forgiving. And compassionate we can be. In that way, the moments that bring us perspective also bring us closer to God, even though they're also the very moments that might cause us to question him. 

So as you go through your week this week, consider putting your issues—from commuter traffic to interpersonal issues to the truly tragic—into their proper perspective. If you're a Christian, Easter marks the perfect time to do this. The rest of us can just consider the rebirth that spring brings. In the experience of the soul, nothing can be taken from us. Nothing lasts forever. We cannot be defeated. Whatever threatens us today is already doomed to fail. Everything brings us closer to god. We are all divine beings. Nothing can change that. We can only forget. And it's never too late to remember.

4/18/14—Speaking the Truth

I recently found myself speaking my truth about speaking my truth and someone reminded me of a post I made about that very topic way back. So today's post is partly that post and partly another on the same topic. 

When it comes to being honest, there have been times in the past where I would hold my tongue in certain cases to keep from being mean to others. Then over a while, I'd build up so much frustration over holding my tongue that some random person bears the wrath of my tongue, usually unfairly in relation to the situation. 

Over time I came to realize that holding your tongue to protect someone else's feelings is abusive to yourself. We need to enforce our boundaries in order for others to respect them. And we need to be true to ourselves in order to respect ourselves. 

In the past, I've not only held my tongue to save the feelings of others, but I also haven't made my own needs known. I've also put up with a lot of BS, overlooked a lot of lies, maintained a lot of soul crushing friendships and allowed myself to compromise my own comfort for the comfort of others. And you know what? I'm finally done. 

But it's important to note that we're also not respecting ourselves or others if we use our truth as a way of hurting others. Sometimes, though, a person is going to get hurt. Who wouldn't get hurt about "I no longer want to be your friend" or "I don't feel I can trust you"? If that's your truth there's no kinder way of saying it unless you blow all sorts of crap up their butt that you don't really feel. What's not kind is "I never really liked you anyway, bitch" or "you are a pathological liar."

I also believe there are times for honesty. I didn't used to. But I do now. You can call it "times for" honesty...or you can think of it as "degrees of" honesty. Over the years, I've learned that some people that ask for the truth don't really want to hear it and will argue and excuse anything you say. And then there are drama queens who ask for the truth, then when you give it to them, end up in a puddle of tears and resent you forever after. Finally, I've also learned that volunteering the truth when not asked isn't a wise move. 

So now my policy is this—eradicate those who can't handle an honest conversation from my life. Second, I try to be mindful of volunteering the truth to people who aren't asking for it. That's just a mistake. And, finally when people DO ask for honesty, I deliver it as kindly as possible. And if they don't like it, I don't allow myself to be manipulated to feel bad about it. Most people who know me know better than to ask for the truth if they don't want to hear it. But moreover, most people who know me are people who want to hear the truth, because that's the kind of person I like to be around. 

All that said, I think the truth is subjective. My truth about something may not be your truth. Even something as simple as "the sky is blue" can be argued by a colorblind person or a scientist who wants to discuss wavelengths and other things that affect the way we perceive the color of the sky. So I do think we need to consider the subjective nature of truth when it comes to assessing the honesty of others.

All told, I feel like I'm a pretty honest person. But I believe honesty is a vehicle you need to learn to drive. You shouldn't drive it uncontrollably. You shouldn't use it as a weapon. Nor should you drive it into the ground. You have to treat it with the respect it deserves.