2/22/16—Ripping Their Throats Out

You know how animals, when they sense weakness in another animal, will spring forth and violently take that animal down? Well, I have to admit, as a human animal, I feel that urge from time to time.

It's not physical weakness that pushes my buttons, it's a type of mental or personality weakness. Nor is it a physical response that I have to it. It's a mental one. Basically I lose respect for the person. And it's hard for me to deal constructively with someone I don't respect.

I really felt it strongly recently when a young professional who doesn't know me well approached me gingerly about some revisions that needed to be made on something I had written. When someone approaches me like they're scared I might get offended, I get offended...haha. 

Sure, sometimes my ego gets a little bruised when someone doesn't like my work. But this wasn't that. They had changed their mind about what they wanted and wanted something new. Not a problem. This is my job. While we all have bad days, I'd estimate that 95% of the time, I take edits in stride and, about 80% of those times, I actually feel the edits have made the piece equal to—or better than—what it was before. So I'm open to edits. Once I hand my work over, I usually hand my ownership over with it. So when someone approaches me like I'm going to get offended, it offends me. I'm a professional. You're a professional. Let's handle this like professionals. No need for kid gloves.

But this person was clearly a little intimidated. And for a split second, I wanted to give them legitimate reason to feel that way. In my mind, they showed their weakness to me in a way I felt was personal and unfair, and I wanted to prove them right...haha. Instead, I stopped myself, brushed off my attitude and accepted their comments with a smile. But I have to say, it was very difficult in the moment because I wanted to make them squirm...just because I knew I could. And just so nobody misunderstands, I'm not proud of having those feelings.

A lot of things are going on here. And none of them have to do with the other person. It was me that got offended by their misjudgment of me. It was me that took their fear personally. It was me that judged their behavior "weak", rather than writing it off to inexperience or ignorance or whatever it was. Heck, it's possible they were intimidated because I'm respected in their organization and have way more experience. Maybe they're not accustomed to working with consultants. Who knows? But what it triggered in me was all on me. Every time someone else triggers a knee-jerk reaction in you, it's all on you. And it's time to explore the reasons why. 

I discussed this with a friend not that long ago and they were very tough with me about why I consider certain behaviors, such as wishy-washiness, weak. Aside from the fact that the definition of wishy-washy IS weak...haha...I imagine it's because, somewhere in my past,  I've been on the other side of the dynamic, understood why the other person saw my intimidation or lack of decisiveness as undesirable trait, and moved beyond it. A lack of decisiveness, btw, is one of my pet peeves, especially in the professional arena. And my experience has been that it's mostly women who have a hard time deciding on things and keeping with their decision. In fact, it's kind of a stereotype of women...our prerogative is to change our minds. 

Everyone has the right to change their minds. In fact, I think it's a sign of strength to acknowledge you've made a wrong decision and take steps to correct it. But some individuals embrace their lack of decisiveness as a dominant character trait, rather than an occasional thing. And yes, I find it annoying and weak. Annoying, because it inconveniences those who are effected by the constant changes in whim. And weak, because the circular "I don't know. What do you want to do? I don't know. What do YOU want to do?" thing, in my opinion, comes from a lack of self knowledge, fear of making a wrong decision and/or a desire to please everyone involved. But I digress. It can just as easily be considered weak to allow that crap to push my buttons.

I do know that the reason I'm triggered by people who seem intimidated by me is because of my own insecurities. I'm not just a heavyset person, I'm nearly 6' tall. Even when I'm not heavy, I'm large. And I have a naturally loud voice. And I walk fast and with determination. So I can see how some 5'2" woman (again, it's mostly women, simply because men, in general, are less *physically* intimidated by women) with a petite build and a soft demeanor would find me scary as hell. 

But it's hurtful, because I've never even so much as shoved another person before. In fact, I know a couple of women just barely grazing 5' tall that I'm not so sure I could beat...haha. I'm generally a kind, peaceful person. I mean, everyone loses their temper from time to time, and I can see where I might have other "intimidating" aspects to my personality, but people who don't know me don't know any of that. In fact, unless you have screwed me over, betrayed me or are a customer service person who happens upon me when I'm in a mood, I have never given you a legitimate reason to fear me. Again, other people's impressions of you are more about them than you.

Nobody likes to be misunderstood. And large people who have lived most of their life being chided and stared at for their size are insecure about it. People just want to be accepted and given a chance as they are. And whether you're critically measured according to your size, skin color, looks, sexual preference, religion or any other superficial measure, acceptance flows more easily to some of us than others. 

So there's a lot going on when you judge others and/or feel judged and want to attack. When I was younger, I just judged. And attacked. And I told myself that the other person was the reason and they're just assholes and they deserved it. But the more conscious I become, the less I allow myself to get away with that and the more I look at stuff like this as an opportunity to show me where I need to work on myself. 

I read a post today about how some "egotistical twits shoved their inferiority complexes down [someone's] throat to the point they could no longer bear the subjugation and so they left [their job]." I imagine we all know what that's like...haha. And while many would look at that statement and say "amen", I tend to look at stuff like that and say "I doubt you're quite the victim you paint yourself to be." 

For every "egotistical twit" there is out there, there's someone who doesn't quite understand the mechanics of their own insecurities. Egotistical twits and those who are easily offended by them find each other for a reason, imo. And as long as we keep making ourselves right and the other person wrong in these situations, we'll find ourselves suffocating beneath a never-ending pile of egotistical twits. Only by examining and healing our own egos, fears and insecurities can we set ourselves free. 

There will always be egotistical twits in this world, and peace doesn't come from grinning and bearing them. It comes from understanding what buttons they push within us and healing those tender spots so that their issues cease in becoming a part of ours.

2/15/16—Working on the Little Things

If there's one thing everyone in the professional world wants you to be, it's proactive. You need to anticipate issues and solve them before they happen. It's a valuable quality to have. Except when it's not. 

I became fully conscious of the dark side of proactivity a couple of months ago. My old health insurance company sent me one of their Explanation of Benefits statements and the form was filled out wrong...different than they usually do it. They had the wrong numbers in the wrong columns. And while I knew I would be invoiced properly by the caregiver, I envisioned my insurance company getting to year end and having discrepancies and nobody noticing they had the wrong numbers in the wrong columns. So I decided to call. 

My call started with a long process of "press or say one for x", except the pressing part didn't work, so I had to say all my answers, which didn't go smoothly. So finally I reach a human, tell my story and they place me on hold. Only they don't actually place me on hold, they put me back into the queue by mistake, where I have to go through the whole process of speaking to an electronic voice again. Then finally, after about 15 frustrating minutes on the phone, I get to talk to someone. Only now I'm perturbed. 

So I get a human being and am perturbed and she starts lecturing me about my attitude. So I do my best to hide my growing anger and try to walk her through the math. I have to do this in a few different ways because she's not understanding what I'm talking about....as if she'd never seen one of these Explanation of Benefits statements before. Finally the lightbulb goes off in her head and she tells me this is something she'll have to look into and that she'll get back to me. Which she never did, btw. 

But by that time, I'm beyond pissed. All my buttons had been pushed by this uppity customer service person and her crappy automated phone system. There I was trying to be a proactive and responsible insured person—like they ask you to do. They don't want costly mistakes any more than you do. But they made it SO hard! 

I was so worked up over this that I called my sister to vent. She then told me she was having a similar type issue where she was being proactive and dealing with people on the phone and it was driving her batty. So there we are talking about how frustrated and pissed we were and I started laughing. I said, "you know we're doing this to ourselves, right?" 

Neither of these calls were calls that HAD to be made. If the insurance company made the mistake with me, they made it with others and would figure it out. Besides, they were only going to be my insurance company for another week or so anyway. And my sister's issue resolved itself naturally a few days later.

On the surface, the issue has to do with being too proactive and working ourselves up over what turns out to be nothing. But, for me at least, the real issue is about trust and control. To a certain degree, neither of us trusted the company we were calling was doing their job correctly. Neither of us trusted that things would just work out the way they were supposed to without our intervention. Meanwhile, all over the world, people are getting the same results we are, but without having to make all the phone calls and create all the stress...because they just trusted it would happen.

First, when we're stressing about something that is on the verge of happening or hasn't even really happened yet, we're not really in the moment. And second, we somehow worry we're different, both in the service we receive and in our ability to move boulders that are way bigger than we are. In both cases, my sister and I were dealing with huge institutions that do what they want to do when they want to do it...institutions that probably have reasons for doing what they do when they do it. And while it's completely transparent to us, they nonetheless have systems in place and won't move just because we want them to. And there's also an element of looking for trouble where none exists. I can't speak for my sister, but I know I do that more often than I'd like to admit.

Now, in my defense, I would say that I receive satisfaction from being proactive probably most of the time. And by that I mean I make the call, everything goes smoothly and I am reassured that everything is going properly. But I would venture to say my proactivity isn't needed most of the time. So I've been thinking about this essentially wasted energy, what drives it and what I need to do to move past it for the past couple of months. This is my year of letting go, after all, and since this happened right before 2016 even began, it was one of my first lessons. 

It's good to be disciplined and it's good to have standards and it's natural to have expectations. But it's a little much to assign myself to be someone else's babysitter—or worse, someone who rolls in before a mistake is even made or a deadline is ever missed just to make sure it won't happen. It's micromanagement. And I have to say I'm guilty as charged. It costs a lot in both toxic hormones and my own self respect. I get worked up, then frequently feel like an asshole afterward. And I don't like either of those things. 

The world will spin without me. And mistakes are going to happen. I can address them at that time. But for now I'm going to try my best to breathe and let things happen as they happen in the interim. I also want to remind myself what is truly important, and these episodes rarely every are. I latch on to these things for a reason. There are reasons even below the trust issues that need to be explored. Where did these trust issues come from and how do they make me feel about myself? 

The reasons are deeply individual and spin around the very core of the kind of damages we work our entire lives in an effort to heal. We all have unhealed stuff and this is some of mine. There are so many much bigger things I let go of and put my trust in that I don't need little stuff like this staining my growth chart. This year is for working on the little things...the layers down towards the core. And the first step is always to breathe and trust.

2/8/16–Letting Your Desires Flow To You

A friend recently posted the accompanying quote from Rumi and I thought it held a lot of valuable wisdom. 

Manifestation is much more than people have been led to believe by New Age gurus. There are, frankly, some aspects that some people aren't ready to align with. Maybe they're too stubborn, fickle, controlling, doubting or unaware to allow the process to happen the way it happens. So they generally think it doesn't work, because it doesn't work for them. 

The need to remain positive and believe is one of those things. People will say "I want a lover to enter my life and believe one is on his/her way, but the only people that seem attracted to me are losers or married people. This sucks! There is nobody out there for me! *feeling sorry for self*" 

Everything said prior to the "but" is great. Everything else is why manifestation doesn't work for you. You don't actually believe or you wouldn't be complaining. You wouldn't be focused on the past, but instead you'd be open-minded about the future. You'd be trusting. And you'd be a lot more careful about things you say, because you would realize the power your words have to negate the plans the universe has for you—plans you may not fully understand...plans that may somehow require losers to cross your path in order to learn lessons that will prepare you for Prince Charming. But then the universe sends you pre-Charming losers in all its infinite wisdom and you complain and say you don't want that. Confusing.

Another place people trip up, in my opinion, is in asking for specific things and not feelings. This is what triggers the "be careful what you ask for" syndrome. You ask for a new job at Google and you move out to California, but can't afford the same kind of home and land you had in Iowa. And there are earthquakes. And it never snows. And they expect you to work long hours under pressure and you don't feel as smart as you did at your old job. Meanwhile, there's this hot new startup in Iowa that is EXACTLY what you wanted—a great work/life balance, near your farm, four seasons, exciting projects to work on, good money. But you didn't get that because a) you're in California, so you didn't know about it and b) that's not what you asked for. It may have been what you wanted, but you asked for a job at Google. And that's what you got.

So Rumi's quote brings up another one of those aspects—how hard do you have to work to get what you want? Well, I believe you at least have to move in the direction and show an interest in receiving. But have you ever had someone offer to help you in the kitchen, then they ask where the knives and bowls are. So you show them. Then they need a chopping board that is in plain sight. So you point it out. Then they start to chop the onions, but in the stupidest way. So you show them how. Then they chop too big. And by that time, the bacon you were cooking when they offered to help got burned. So they really weren't any help at all and just managed to keep getting in the way?

Well, that's how the universe feels when you try to help too much. You think you know what's right, because you wanted to meet a great guy. So you joined dating sites and started going to whiskey bars and now the only time you're in public, you're either with another man or in some location the right guy for you would never go. You're getting in the way and trying too hard.

So what this Rumi quote is saying is that what you want also wants you. Trust in that. And instead of running around trying to help the universe out, maybe your time would better be spent opening yourself to receive the universe's grace when it comes. If you want a man, let the universe find the man and prepare yourself to be the kind of woman the kind of man you want wants. And if you want a new job, stop trying to tell the universe which job is best for you. If you were so good at that, you wouldn't be looking for a new job in the first place. Instead, focus on being the kind of candidate a dream employer would want. 

Each time we try to manifest things in our lives, there are certain things we need to understand. It may not happen on our timetable.The more you try to control the universe, the harder time you're going to have. The more critical you are of everything that happens during the process of manifestation, the more you work against it. Be careful of what you say you want, because you're likely to get it. And the harder you try to make something happen, the less you trust that what you're trying to manifest is also trying to manifest you. 

With all the logistics that are required to match you with the things you want—and considering the universe has a plan in place that you don't actually know, as much as you might think you do—your best move is stand in place, ready and confident to receive, and let your desires flow to you.

2/1/16—Being In The Moment

I was out on the front porch with Kizzie watching the sunset and taking pictures to post on Facebook, as I so frequently do, and I had a thought that never really occurred to me before.

It was about being in the moment. By that, I mean the Buddhist principle of being fully present in the moment. That means you're not thinking about your ongoing list of places to go, people to see and things to do. You're not thinking about something that happened three minutes or three years ago...or something that might happen next or far into the future. You're not worrying about money. You're not wondering if that chick actually looked in a mirror before she put that horrific outfit on. You're just there. Fully engaged in the present moment and all it encompasses. You're letting the moment inhabit you.

I think most people like to think they're in the moment more often than they actually are. Many of us get good hunks of it the work we do. Most forms of meditation are in the moment...in no moment. That's part of being in the moment. It transcends time. It's also quiet upstairs when you're in the moment. There's no chaotic head chatter in the moment. We're all there as often as is possible, because it's the place that feels the best. But we're all probably not there near enough. Dogs and babies are good at being in the moment. The rest of us drift in and out to one degree or another. 

None of that was my novel thought, however.

You might think I'd be in the moment a lot when I'm watching my sunsets, but the truth is, I'm not. At least not in the way a person would think. I'm not sitting there absorbed in the shifting colors of nature's glorious paintbrush the whole time. Rather, I'm frequently engrossed in trying to capture its essence on my camera. And when I'm not doing that, I may be caught in the moment of day turning to night—not so much the sunset as what the birds and squirrels are doing and how all the humans are arriving home and going about their evenings. And when I'm not doing that, I might be in the moment of communing with the universe for guidance or enlightenment. And when I'm not doing that, I'm likely to be completely distracted by random thoughts, and not in any moment at all.

So, I'm watching the sunset with this train of thought swirling in my head. And then I become caught up in the moment of photography. After a couple of minutes of seeing the sunset through the camera lens, I caught a glimpse of the actual sunset and thought, "I'm going to choose a different moment to be in. I'm going to be in the moment of the actual sunset." It's so silly, but it hadn't occurred to me that, in any given moment, there is more than just one moment to be caught up in!

When I'm taking pictures of the sunset, I'm in the moment of photography. I'm seeing the sunset in a different way, than just sitting there and viewing it. And the only thoughts on my mind are of how I'm framing a shot, what all the camera is seeing and how I'm working my camera. I'm sure my brain fires very differently when I'm in the moment of sunset photography than when I'm in the moment of  sunset communion.

At any given time, there's another moment right next to us that we could just as easily choose to become lost in. But we're usually so caught up in the moment we're in that we don't step out of it long enough to consider other moments we could be in. And when the moment we're in is over, we don't usually go looking for another moment to be in. We just return to our miserable, chatty, disengaged default mode of a life. :D

I don't know what any of us are supposed to do with that information. But while being in the moment of a sunset conjures certain images, there are so many ways to be in the moment of a sunset because there are so many different aspects of a sunset experience. We can focus on the spectacle of the sunset. We can focus on the sunset as the subject of a photoshoot. Or as the trigger for changes in the animal kingdom. Or as a reflection of a neighborhood's patterns. Or as special time shared with my #1 son. 

There are so many moments to be in, no matter what you're doing. And maybe realizing that and seeing your usual moment from a different aspect could change everything. Who knows?

Also, switching from moment to moment is a perfectly valid strategy. And looking for other moments to be in is a great alternative to just getting distracted by chatter when we find our thoughts drifting. While I've always felt I had a good understanding of the principle of being in the moment, I guess I hadn't really considered all the options. And I think a part of me also thought something like photographing a sunset was cheating in a "being in the moment" sense. But it's not. 

I suppose I just really hadn't thought of any of this beyond, "it feels good to be in the moment." But I already see this new knowledge/thought benefiting my "being in the moment" moments and I'm spending less time out of the moment because of it...at least when I'm outside in my favorite places with my favorite pups. 

It's worth considering all the options you have to escape your out-of-the-moment head when you become consciously aware that you're not in the present. If you find yourself distracted while trying to have a moment with your gardening, for example, you could focus, instead, of the feeling of sun against your skin while you're gardening. Or on the chirping and wildlife around you. Or the clouds passing by. You could turn it into a different awareness altogether. And you can know this moment is uniquely yours—a moment only memory can capture. You just have to be conscious enough to claim it. 

1/25/16—Breathing Fresh Air

So you may have heard about Snowzilla, the massive snowstorm that hit Washington, DC. It was a full-on blizzard, gripping the region with crippling snow.  It also gave me a good lesson in letting go. 

You know how it is, it's snowing a couple of inches per hour and you know you're going to get at least two feet of the white stuff. So you're champing at the bit to get out there and clear the walkways. That's how it goes for me. I can't relax until I know I'm up to code. 

But until you've stared down that much snow in blinding winds and cold, you don't know overwhelming it can be. Especially if you're still adjusting to your chronic asthma. 

So there I was, clearing walkways front and back as the snow came down. I did that for the first six inches or so and then I had to stop. My body—my asthma—was telling me to stop. I had to let go. 

I had to let go of "the strong me" that might get exhausted and might hurt her back, but could finish the shoveling. We had a storm similar to this 7 years ago and I managed it then. But I wasn't going to manage it now. 

I also had to let go of that person who is determined to handle everything that needs handling on her own. That's a tough one. That's one I've been learning a lot over the last couple of months as I needed my brother to handle the fall leaves for me and as I needed people to care for my dogs and home when I was in the hospital. 

Lately I've been learning to let go of a part of me that has defined me and that I took great pride in. And I guess I'm surprised it's not harder for me to do. Sure, there were a few tears when I realized I wasn't going to be able to keep up my shoveling through the night...haha. Tears because, while life is SO much easier than it was for the past few years, even with my inhalers I'm going to be limited going forward. I mean, I'm seeing the edges of what is possible within the confines of the disease, and it's fully livable. But I just can't overdo it anymore. 

That's so funny to say, isn't it? "Waaah, poor me. I can't overdo it anymore!" Haha. It's not a huge disappointment, but it is something that is gone and has ended in my life. And I'm still feeling out the edges of what I can and cannot do. When I'm fully drugged up, I can do most of what needs doing around here. I'm sure I can mow my yard. I can clean up leaves, although that would ruin me for the rest of the weekend—the allergy triggers seem to take the most out of me. But those are the "new ways" I'm learning, little by little. 

I was gifted with a fresh chance a couple of months ago and I was given back my hope and my  life and my ability to move through this earth. I am incredibly grateful for that and I just keep feeling better and better. But that didn't come without limits. And I'm learning what those are over time. 

I usually have a hard time letting go of things, but I'm finding it really easy with this. Part of that is because I'm just so happy that there was a livable answer to the misery I struggled with for so many years. But part of it is that I'm digging this new health of mine and  am good with the compromises I have to make to stay here. Things like deep cleaning and raking and shoveling (btw, I was able to shovel a great deal of snow in the back to create potty trails and a circuit for the dogs to run in, and I did that pretty well, so I'm not useless. :) ) may limit me some, but nothing limits me the way I was limited all those years I was sick. And nothing limits me like thinking I've got it all figured out does, either. So gaining perspective makes letting go easier, too. 

What I'm learning from all this is that it's nice letting someone else take the load. I'm so new to that. But I'm realizing the value of it, finally. I never fully appreciated it before. And we're all going to come up against increasing limitations and an increasing need for help as we get older, so I'm just getting a head start. 

I might have thought all that would torment me. But as I sat in my living room eating a brownie and chatting on the phone with my sister today while the neighbor boy was toiling over my walkways, I have to admit: it didn't really didn't bother me at all. Letting go lets fresh air into your life. And if there's one thing this asthmatic appreciates, it's fresh air.  

1/18/16—Seeing Through the Eyes of Others

I had a whole other topic I was writing about tonight, but it just wasn't pleasing me. So I went looking for a "classic" post to put up for this evening and quickly came across this one. It just happens to be from this weekend last year. And through no coincidence, I'm sure, it happens to contain insight into the topic I was originally writing about. The universe never ceases to amaze me. 

Anyway, here it  is...

I bookmarked a conversation I had online way back in early December and am only now getting around to writing about it. It all started with something a friend of mine had read on Humans of New York.

For reference, I'll put what the gentleman who was interviewed said here:

"I always remember my mom having this hardness to her. Even if you were at the other end of the house, you could feel her presence. Not like a monster, but kinda. She needed everything to be just a certain way. She'd arrange the towels perfectly and didn't want anyone mess them up. She'd keep these detailed notes on money and daily activities and even her bowel movements. It was a diary of her anxieties. She always needed everything to be just a certain way, and she always had such a hard tone to her voice. But I loved her. I remember walking into her room shortly before she died. She was curled up in bed because she had very bad scoliosis, and she looked so small and vulnerable. And next to her on the nightstand was a picture of her as a little girl, standing with her own mother. And it made me sad, because I knew that little girl had never wanted to grow up to be a ball of anxiety." 

My friend who posted this posed a really interesting question—"how do we get to be who we are? Is there a way back to that little girl we once were before "things happened" that turned us into someone else, some we don't want to be?"

So after marinating on this for a month and a half, I've kinda concluded, for me, this is what our spiritual journeys are about...finding some essence of who we were before humanness rained down on us. And there's a second part to all of this that has to do with forgiveness, so read all the way to the end. :)

Back when I was a kid, I was a troublemaker in school. I was bossy and argumentative, stubborn and just generally a pain in the ass. I remember there was this boy I had a crush on, so I'd knock him upside the head when I'd pass his desk in second grade. That got me kicked out of that class. Then in 4th grade, I was supposed to skip a grade, but because of my emotional immaturity, I didn't skip. Then in 6th grade, I had to spend the entire year sitting behind a closet (I could see the board and all) because I was too disruptive to the other students. That was the end of me getting in big trouble in school, but it wasn't the end of me being an asshole. The ironic thing is that, while I got attention, I didn't get the positive kind of attention I wanted. And my self esteemed flagged as a result. 

Lord only knows what teachers thought about the way I was being raised. It's the kids with the bad childhoods that make all the trouble, right? But the thing is, I had a pretty decent childhood. I was just a kid who craved more attention. Both of my parents worked, I was the youngest of six kids and my demand for attention didn't meet the available supply. Not knowing how to get more, I acted out. Somewhere there was a turning point, because with low self esteem and a bad attitude, it could have gotten so much worse. I don't know for certain when that turning point came, but at some point I veered back on to the higher road. 

What I didn't realize at the time was that, for someone interested in bettering themselves and serving God and society at a higher level, this attention issue was to become part of my life's work, spiritually speaking. Back then, it manifested at tantrum level. Over the years, this need for the ego to be noticed and recognized has mellowed into things like writing long, meandering blog posts about myself. :D I have consciously worked on and let go of many "bad" behaviors around this whole attention thing. I try harder to give others their turn. In some cases, I've managed to channel the energy into something that actually helps others (like the stuff I write about). And some of the behaviors I'm still working on. 

So, to answer my friend's question, I do think there's a way back. Her question went down some different rabbit holes about being raised by someone like the man above's mother and being raised by a mother like my own...in other words, an effed up upbringing vs. a relatively normal one. But it's worth considering that it doesn't really matter. For better or for worse, we get the upbringing that gives us our assignment/s. And the difference between Oprah and Hitler—two people with difficult upbringings who grew up to be powerful thought leaders—is whether you work on that assignment or whether you let it work on you. 

The second part of the discussion with my friend was about forgiveness and compassion. Many times when we have parents or others in our lives who are so broken by their humanness, we put distance between ourselves and them. In fact, we do this with all sorts of unsavory people, not just relatives or close friends. We do it with co-workers and homeless people and people we see on TV who have committed crimes. In fact, there doesn't even have to be a serious issue with someone. All they have to do is disagree with us on something important to us, like politics, and that's it. They're gone. 

We justify this to ourselves as doing what's healthy for us. But is it really? Or is it healthier to learn to open our hearts to these people—to see the little girl who was doing fine until humanness hit her square in the face—and feel compassion and love for them anyway? Isn't that really the healthiest, most evolutionary choice for both us and them? 

While I might not always practice it perfectly, learning how to look at the person beneath the person is something I learned about many years ago on Oprah. When you encounter someone who is different from you or who has done you harm, realize that they didn't grow up with the dream of being reviled by others. That happened somewhere along the line when life happened. And life has happened to all of us. 

Moreover, for the people who are just different from you, realize that they have the same dreams for themselves and their families as you do. Those families in Africa that live in cardboard huts...they have the same kinds of hopes and dreams for their lives and family as you do. If that child turns out to be a thief, that wasn't part of the dream. Everyone, from terrorists to saints, just want their children to be safe and happy and their lives to be as fulfilling as possible. Yeah, even terrorists. 

Which is not to say that I'm defending terrorism. There is no defending that. And some of them may have debilitating mental issues that take them out of the "everyone wants to be safe and happy" mold. But I'm just saying that compassion and forgiveness can be given to anyone, albeit it might take a master class to give it to a terrorist. Because it's not what THEY do that matters in your spiritual practice of compassion and forgiveness. It's only what YOU do and how much you can open YOUR heart. 

Remember Antoinette Tuff, the woman who talked a school shooter into giving himself up? Her ability to do that saved her own life and the lives of countless children. It's rare to find someone capable of seeing the pain in another—especially when that other person is holding an AK-47 to your face—and focusing on that pain instead of the terror that pain wanted to cause. But she did it. And she did it because she understood that, on the way to whatever dream our parents had for their family and the dream we had for ourselves, some people get woefully lost on the trail. She had the humility to look at her own difficulties and see through his eyes and see that what separates her from him was just a few choices that could have gone the other way. 

So there's a lot to think about here. Self improvement. Spiritual purpose. Forgiveness. Compassion. And even self-forgivess and acceptance. We were all once innocent babies with simple needs...food, water, shelter, love. Then life happened and all hell broke loose. The difference between you and someone in prison or their own self-sustained misery is actually a matter of a small choice here or there to hold yourself to a higher standard...a choice each of us is handed multiple times daily in life and we usually choose not to take. So perhaps you've taken enough of those opportunities to get by, but you let a lot pass you by. Even you aren't your best all the time. The rest of the world is no different. It's all just a matter of degrees. 

1/11/16—Contemplating the End

The other night I was sitting outside lamenting my financial lot in life, as well as a few other things. I'm pretty good about not wallowing in fear, but it's safe to say I was having a fearful moment. And then I heard something in my head. 

"This is not how the story ends."

Of course, we all know this on one level or another, but it's a worthy reminder. The story is ongoing. Whatever you're experiencing now is only temporary. 

In both good times and bad, I think we all have a tendency to tell ourselves our current state is "what everything was leading up to. This is what it was all about. This is how this story ends."

But that's not really true. It's how the *chapter* ends. Depending on what you believe, the story either never ends or it ends when you die. So whatever you're experiencing right now is transient. 

Now that may be good news or bad. Because you might be on top of the world right now. Maybe you've just landed a new job or given birth or maybe you're just in a really good place. It's temporary. Of course, the reverse is true, too. You might be miserable today. And that's temporary, too. 

Thirty years ago, there was a little girl who spent her childhood in and out of hospitals because she had serious chemical allergies. Between her allergies and asthma, she was hospitalized a couple of times a year. But the story doesn't end there. 

She grows up to become a successful actress, but that's not where her story ends, either. She founds the Honest Company, a company that offers hypoallergenic homecare and childcare products. Her earlier struggles in life begin to make sense. But that's not even where the story ends. Jessica Alba is a wife and mother, an actress, and the founder if a $1 billion business—a pioneer, even. But she's not even 40 yet. Her story isn't over.

So we need to understand the transient nature of things. Jessica Alba could have accepted a life where her label was "really beautiful allergic asthmatic" and then spent the rest of her life locked in a room with an air purifier. She could have decided that her story ended with her disease and that was it for her. But she pushed herself out onto movie sets where everything from makeup to the cast and crew had smells that could send her into an attack. And she could have easily decided that the story was over there. "Beautiful actress." But then she reinvented herself again. 

There is no lot in life we have to settle for. There is no limitation placed on us that we can't find a way around. Look at Stephen Hawking, for example. The man can't move his body or even talk, but he is one of the world's leading theoretical physicists. He didn't see his disease as the way the story ends. 

So whether it's something big you're facing or something smaller, know it's only temporary and it's not where the story has to end...unless its where you decide the story ends. Emotions like joy, fear, anger, jealousy, sorry, contentment—all of those are temporary states. 

If it's a good time, enjoy it while you're there. Try your best to be in the moment so you can sop up every last bit of juicy goodness. And if it's a bad time, know it's only temporary and consider the opportunity available in that moment. For example, money woes, for me, are just a matter of discipline and budgeting. That's the opportunity—a new practice that can do nothing but benefit me in the future. 

This moment is just that. A moment. And this moment can color your life in a destructive way. It can be an opportunity for improvement. Or it can be a glorious respite that you dance within. But what it can't be is the end.