January 31, 2011"Our listening creates a sanctuary for the homeless parts within another person."
~Rachel Naomi Remen
Love this...
Sanctuary
January 31, 2011"Our listening creates a sanctuary for the homeless parts within another person."
~Rachel Naomi Remen
Love this...
Hymns to the Silence...
January 29, 2011
What a week this has been. My nephew and his wife learned on Monday that the baby she was about to deliver was stillborn d/t a cord accident. Devastating. The news brought with it a flood of memories from my own personal experience of this unique kind of loss 17 years ago. Strange, isn't it, how you can be transported so immediately back to a long ago emotional time in the simple blink of an eye. The rush of the large painful emotions brought a sudden reminder of what remains in the back of my emotional closet no matter how far removed from the traumatic event. Yep, tucked rather safely in the back of the closet--probably buried under other significant, accumulated life memories and seemingly collecting dust is this, this large cardboard box. My family's tragedy this week forced me to reach into the dark closet and take the box out and attempt to delicately open the tucked, folded flaps (heavy sigh) to have a peak inside. I was trying to be so careful. I wanted to control the experience of the emotions that I knew were hidden in that particular box. It was not to be. The grief could not, would not, be held back. Rather, it came bursting out of the box along with every other triggered feeling related to the loss of my infant son. The box should have carried a warning: Contents Under Pressure. The grief! The sadness! Yes. I felt carried back in time. All of it was in there--the anger, pain, anguish, fear, despair. The questions still without answers. The tears. I mourned yet again at the magnitude of what was lost then and now. Can I ask just one more time...why? Why Kevin, why Elle?? It is an unanswerable question. I know that we all have them. Reliving a trauma reflexively causes us to ask again anyway. Perhaps we hope there is now an answer. Perhaps we just need to keep asking.
Surprisingly, in the box, I also encountered tenderness, love, peace, hope. I was able to take a look at each emotion. But more importantly, I was able to feel them all. I embraced everything. Opening the box and acknowledging what it has held for so long has been humbling. I am still processing it all. I think the experience this week has allowed me to appreciate what it means to live life fully. Doesn't Joseph Campbell talk about it? The experience of being alive. I am grateful to be alive. And I'm feeling...feeling all of life. The pain, the sorrow, the heartache, the joy. Everything. No intellectualizing, no stiff upper lip. No. Instead, this time around I am fully present to the hard emotions also. Not just the easy ones. It means that I cry and sob if I need to. I get angry. I'm sad. I ask, 'why me?' knowing there isn't an answer anyway. I give voice to all the guests in my emotional home. As Rumi so insightfully wrote centuries ago:
THE GUEST HOUSE
~ Rumi
I am letting the emotional guests visit. Sometimes the guests arrive together. Other times, one at a time. No matter. I treat them well. They are gifts. Gifts of being alive. And I try to remember to say thank you as they leave...
Sadness and grief are visiting today. I have accepted them and allowed them in. They are but two guests in my expansive house. And I honor their presence.
Rumi's Guest House is a reminder to me. A reminder that when I am in the thrall of painful emotions I may want to consider accepting them as they are and allowing them their full expression. Now. In this moment.
I'm trying. Hard as it is...I'm trying...
What a week this has been. My nephew and his wife learned on Monday that the baby she was about to deliver was stillborn d/t a cord accident. Devastating. The news brought with it a flood of memories from my own personal experience of this unique kind of loss 17 years ago. Strange, isn't it, how you can be transported so immediately back to a long ago emotional time in the simple blink of an eye. The rush of the large painful emotions brought a sudden reminder of what remains in the back of my emotional closet no matter how far removed from the traumatic event. Yep, tucked rather safely in the back of the closet--probably buried under other significant, accumulated life memories and seemingly collecting dust is this, this large cardboard box. My family's tragedy this week forced me to reach into the dark closet and take the box out and attempt to delicately open the tucked, folded flaps (heavy sigh) to have a peak inside. I was trying to be so careful. I wanted to control the experience of the emotions that I knew were hidden in that particular box. It was not to be. The grief could not, would not, be held back. Rather, it came bursting out of the box along with every other triggered feeling related to the loss of my infant son. The box should have carried a warning: Contents Under Pressure. The grief! The sadness! Yes. I felt carried back in time. All of it was in there--the anger, pain, anguish, fear, despair. The questions still without answers. The tears. I mourned yet again at the magnitude of what was lost then and now. Can I ask just one more time...why? Why Kevin, why Elle?? It is an unanswerable question. I know that we all have them. Reliving a trauma reflexively causes us to ask again anyway. Perhaps we hope there is now an answer. Perhaps we just need to keep asking.
Surprisingly, in the box, I also encountered tenderness, love, peace, hope. I was able to take a look at each emotion. But more importantly, I was able to feel them all. I embraced everything. Opening the box and acknowledging what it has held for so long has been humbling. I am still processing it all. I think the experience this week has allowed me to appreciate what it means to live life fully. Doesn't Joseph Campbell talk about it? The experience of being alive. I am grateful to be alive. And I'm feeling...feeling all of life. The pain, the sorrow, the heartache, the joy. Everything. No intellectualizing, no stiff upper lip. No. Instead, this time around I am fully present to the hard emotions also. Not just the easy ones. It means that I cry and sob if I need to. I get angry. I'm sad. I ask, 'why me?' knowing there isn't an answer anyway. I give voice to all the guests in my emotional home. As Rumi so insightfully wrote centuries ago:
THE GUEST HOUSE
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
~ Rumi
I am letting the emotional guests visit. Sometimes the guests arrive together. Other times, one at a time. No matter. I treat them well. They are gifts. Gifts of being alive. And I try to remember to say thank you as they leave...
Sadness and grief are visiting today. I have accepted them and allowed them in. They are but two guests in my expansive house. And I honor their presence.
Rumi's Guest House is a reminder to me. A reminder that when I am in the thrall of painful emotions I may want to consider accepting them as they are and allowing them their full expression. Now. In this moment.
I'm trying. Hard as it is...I'm trying...
Happy Birthday Mystery Man!!
Well...today is my soulmate, my compadre, my lover, my husband's 49th birthday!! He is a beacon of light as I wander through my own darkness. He provides comfort, reassurance, love, warmth, grounding...as well as opportunities for me to heal my "stuff". I love this man deeply. So thankful to have him in my life.
I wanted to put a picture of he and I on here however I know Joe likes his privacy. I'm hoping he is okay with this 'non descript' pic. It gives only a hint of what he actually looks like but also, to me, describes him well. Mysterious...runner!! Lol. I had to take this pic after he came in from a long run on a 'freeze your buns off' kind of morning. I love this 'mystery' man!!!
Fear of Flying
January 13, 2011
So as I mentioned in my 'Reflections' post, 2010 saw me wrestle with some significant personal demons. I defeated two in one trip.
The dragon I will expound on now is rather common...fear of flying. Certainly there are many people who have an actual phobia that keeps them on terra firma. That is not me. But it really could have been had I not pushed myself. I have begun to travel more (yet another victory) and have always needed xanax and an inflight cocktail to 'get me through' the flight. I'm not someone who needs xanax to help me through life but instead I use it for airline travel. I will say though that I do not pass judgment on others who may need to use if more frequently. Believe me I do have compassion. (I also feel that had I not been working with an analyst all these years I am sure that I would be on a maintenance dose of something.)
What made this personal demon so significant in its defeat was that in order to conquer it I was going to have to fly by myself while making several connections in order to eventually arrive in Turks & Caicos for my niece's wedding. Five months before the flights I was already nervous and apprehensive. I'm going to do what? Are you kidding? But I didn't want to miss the wedding or the opportunity to see a tropical paradise. And anyways, the trip was five looong months away. As the months passed and the date of departure was getting closer however I began to feel increasing anxiety. The battle lines within were drawn. "I can't do this. I don't want to do this without someone on the plane with me. How can I get out of this?", said the 'old' familiar voice. The other, less familiar, but likeable voice nonetheless tried to convince me otherwise with statements like, "wow, how incredibly exciting this is going to be! What a challenge. A great opportunity for growth. Remember Jung's great line--"we all live in shoes too small". Anxiety is normal. You'll be fine..."
Yes I heard both sides. Some days would find me siding with the old me. The frightened, worry wart. Yes, the bordering on OCD worry wart. Obsessing about every possible worst case scenario over and over. I mean I practically had myself dead and buried and wondering how my family was going to survive without me. Ugh! I am too much even for me to handle at times! Fortunately only Joe and Barb are privy to the true extent of this part of me. (And well, now any random people reading this!). Other days I would amaze myself with my confidence--almost palpably feeling my expanding sense of Self emerging and triumphantly exclaiming to the negative mother complex within--"I listened to you long enough. I've got this one." It would feel so good. I wanted to live in that space forever and ever. It felt intoxicating because it was so new and so unbelievably calming and peaceful and exciting. And then almost as quickly I would crawl back into my comfort zone. Oh how many times has Barb reminded me about how hard it is to change? Invariably she would follow it up with...and that's why so few people follow through with significant life changes. And in this particular circumstance I understood my comfort zone--the status quo of my life--provided me the safety net that would keep me free from experiencing the necessary anxiety that accompanies growth.
This drama. This battle. This crazy dialogue just went on & on & on. Save me from myself someone please! I knew that there was no way to "get out" of going on the trip...the money spent on tickets was enough of an incentive to trudge forward despite the inner terror. I also knew on some level that I would be very disappointed in myself had I retreated back to safety and comfort. So much internal work had prepared me for this moment. I felt confident enough in the weeks leading up to the trip that I knew I would go. But the anxiety was intense to say the least.
Strangely enough in the few days prior to departure I experienced a calmness and an actual excitement for going! I felt peaceful. I can't explain it. If I were religious I would call it a blessing. Whatever one would call it I was grateful to be liberated from the extra, unnecessary stress of worrying about catastrophic airline crashes...or of me having a panic attack in flight d/t said worry!
The feeling all but disappeared on D-Day. 27 October 2010. Time for departure. Departure from old worn inner ways of being to new, exciting, soaring ventures into the unknown yet growing parts of myself. The threshold moment was here. I dropped Joey (my 15 year old son) off at school. I couldn't hide my tears. I cried saying goodbye. Suffice it to say, fear bordering on internal terror has been a major block to my growth. Sadly, I had been stuck there my whole life. That is until very recently. Vital energy had been returning to me as a gift for my persistence in examining and understanding the blocks that have kept me stuck and the associated lifelong patterns that kept me so closeted. So closed off from truly living my life. Hard, hard work. Painful at times. But! Incredible peace, joy and liberation awaited me on the 'other side'.
The experience of stepping onto Flight from Clv to Chi is surreal in retrospect. I was on my way. Mixed with the feelings of fear and anxiety described above was the budding seedlings of something new and at the time undefined. I knew that I was flying to a tropical paradise both literally and figuratively...and I didn't want to miss the opportunity. I followed through this time.
I got on the plane. I made it to Chicago. I manuevered my way through O'Hare unremarkably. Got on my flight to Miami and then onto Turks & Caicos. I met interesting, supportive people all along the way. I could not have imagined it to be so exhilerating--and I hadn't even seen Turks yet!
By the time I left Turks and flew to Miami, JFK and finally arriving in CLV I found I did not need my xanax or my wine! I was comfortable with my anxiety. I could not believe it!! What a victory!
Yes I had arrived. I was and continue to be humbled by the experience.
How Long Have I Been Sleeping?
January 5, 2011
Well! I know I said at the end of the last post that I would be back later with examples. And
I will eventually get to the nitty gritty details of the growth and changes that occurred during 2010 in an upcoming post. However I am compelled to write about my recent definitive acceptance as an ex Christian. There. I've said it. Out loud.
You see I have been struggling with my spiritual beliefs for a very long time and rather intensely the past few years in analysis. I have some very conservative siblings who believe that I am going to hell along with everyone else who is "not saved". Suffice it to say, Christianity has messed me up for more than thirty years. Thirty flippin' years...Yikes! It is sobering to realize my spiritual beliefs have been held hostage for that long.
But the truth is after much soul searching and struggle I have come to the conclusion that I no longer consider myself a Christian. I don't believe that Jesus died for my sins. What about God? Do I believe in God? Not sure what the term "god" means to me but I do believe in a creative energy or "Source". The fact is I can't know the answers to the deep questions and I am okay in this moment to live with the mystery. The ambiguity no longer terrifies me. I don't need to have absolute answers to unanswerable questions.
I am comfortably at peace with my beliefs even though I still carry the vestiges of that old baggage. Thankfully though the emotional load has diminished substantially. What stops me from allowing others to know this very personal part of who I am is quite simply fear. Years of Christian conditioning along with personal feelings of being different (and feeling like an outsider anyways) have continually tempered my desire to allow others to honestly know me. Heck even our Western cultural thought process has us believe it is shameful to be anything other than Christian...I mean, how could I not believe what has been handed down to each successive (albeit unconscious) generation and consequently drilled into my own head since I learned to speak?
I have been asked if I am still a Christian by a few people during my years of struggle. The question invariably surfaced when I felt compelled to share little tidbits of my gripes about religion. The question scared me. I knew the answer deep within yet I felt the need to reassure THEM--and tell them what they needed to hear. Seriously? At the expense of my own well being I soothed their fears. No longer. Growth and a subsequent stronger core have equipped me well to manage my own feelings now. I have begun to tell others that I am not a Christian. And ya know what? It has been liberating. I feel freer each time I share more of who I am. Acceptance and peace have been the natural byproducts of speaking my truth. What a delightful, unexpected surprise.
My work in analysis, my readings on my own and paying attention to my life and choices have all enabled me to step through this very important threshold. And as I stop and gaze at the landscape of this foreign land, I am full of wonder and awe. Humbled and excited. All at once. I am breathing in new air and it is invigorating. I have exhaled the staleness of my old self in order to allow the fullest breath of my authentic Self to fill my lungs and as a result vitalize my life. Shedding my religious hangups has created more breathing space for new opportunities. I have settled into the experience as it unfolds. The meaning is all around me and within me. My journey truly is my home.
Well! I know I said at the end of the last post that I would be back later with examples. And
I will eventually get to the nitty gritty details of the growth and changes that occurred during 2010 in an upcoming post. However I am compelled to write about my recent definitive acceptance as an ex Christian. There. I've said it. Out loud.
You see I have been struggling with my spiritual beliefs for a very long time and rather intensely the past few years in analysis. I have some very conservative siblings who believe that I am going to hell along with everyone else who is "not saved". Suffice it to say, Christianity has messed me up for more than thirty years. Thirty flippin' years...Yikes! It is sobering to realize my spiritual beliefs have been held hostage for that long.
But the truth is after much soul searching and struggle I have come to the conclusion that I no longer consider myself a Christian. I don't believe that Jesus died for my sins. What about God? Do I believe in God? Not sure what the term "god" means to me but I do believe in a creative energy or "Source". The fact is I can't know the answers to the deep questions and I am okay in this moment to live with the mystery. The ambiguity no longer terrifies me. I don't need to have absolute answers to unanswerable questions.
I am comfortably at peace with my beliefs even though I still carry the vestiges of that old baggage. Thankfully though the emotional load has diminished substantially. What stops me from allowing others to know this very personal part of who I am is quite simply fear. Years of Christian conditioning along with personal feelings of being different (and feeling like an outsider anyways) have continually tempered my desire to allow others to honestly know me. Heck even our Western cultural thought process has us believe it is shameful to be anything other than Christian...I mean, how could I not believe what has been handed down to each successive (albeit unconscious) generation and consequently drilled into my own head since I learned to speak?
I have been asked if I am still a Christian by a few people during my years of struggle. The question invariably surfaced when I felt compelled to share little tidbits of my gripes about religion. The question scared me. I knew the answer deep within yet I felt the need to reassure THEM--and tell them what they needed to hear. Seriously? At the expense of my own well being I soothed their fears. No longer. Growth and a subsequent stronger core have equipped me well to manage my own feelings now. I have begun to tell others that I am not a Christian. And ya know what? It has been liberating. I feel freer each time I share more of who I am. Acceptance and peace have been the natural byproducts of speaking my truth. What a delightful, unexpected surprise.
My work in analysis, my readings on my own and paying attention to my life and choices have all enabled me to step through this very important threshold. And as I stop and gaze at the landscape of this foreign land, I am full of wonder and awe. Humbled and excited. All at once. I am breathing in new air and it is invigorating. I have exhaled the staleness of my old self in order to allow the fullest breath of my authentic Self to fill my lungs and as a result vitalize my life. Shedding my religious hangups has created more breathing space for new opportunities. I have settled into the experience as it unfolds. The meaning is all around me and within me. My journey truly is my home.
Reflections
January 1, 2011
Well another year behind me. Reflections of 2010 mixed with anticipation of 2011 compete for my thoughts today. Both are equally enticing to me. 2010 was filled with wonderful opportunities for growth. And I am pleased that I actually responded positively to the opportunities. I didn't run from my fears, my anxieties. I didn't turn away and return to the comfort and safety of the status quo. The status quo that has kept me imprisoned for as long as I can remember. No. Not 2010. I heard the call from within and I said yes despite the internal naysayers warning me of the dangers of stepping completely out of my comfort zone. The dialogue between the multiple camps was fierce at times. BUT...happily the part of me desirous for "stepping into larger shoes" prevailed in many amazing ways. The resultant gifts to my expanding self cannot be understated. 2010 was a year of growth beyond measure for me. I have come a long way baby.
What I accomplished in 2010 is deeply personal. Perhaps others would look at my list and at face value think "big deal". That's okay. We all have a personal measuring stick of sorts. Nobody else is on the same path. My problems are unique to me. The point is I am on the path and attempting to bring as much conscious awareness to the journey as possible. Slaying personal dragons. There. Are. So. Many. Dragons. Thankfully in 2010 I faced the dragons with a solid sense of understanding of the necessity to look each dragon in the eye and do what I needed to do to defeat each one as they crossed my path. One at a time. Each unique experience of growth --and consequent slaying--was at once exhilarating and exhausting. I have never felt so alive!!!
I will return later today to provide some concrete examples...
Well another year behind me. Reflections of 2010 mixed with anticipation of 2011 compete for my thoughts today. Both are equally enticing to me. 2010 was filled with wonderful opportunities for growth. And I am pleased that I actually responded positively to the opportunities. I didn't run from my fears, my anxieties. I didn't turn away and return to the comfort and safety of the status quo. The status quo that has kept me imprisoned for as long as I can remember. No. Not 2010. I heard the call from within and I said yes despite the internal naysayers warning me of the dangers of stepping completely out of my comfort zone. The dialogue between the multiple camps was fierce at times. BUT...happily the part of me desirous for "stepping into larger shoes" prevailed in many amazing ways. The resultant gifts to my expanding self cannot be understated. 2010 was a year of growth beyond measure for me. I have come a long way baby.
What I accomplished in 2010 is deeply personal. Perhaps others would look at my list and at face value think "big deal". That's okay. We all have a personal measuring stick of sorts. Nobody else is on the same path. My problems are unique to me. The point is I am on the path and attempting to bring as much conscious awareness to the journey as possible. Slaying personal dragons. There. Are. So. Many. Dragons. Thankfully in 2010 I faced the dragons with a solid sense of understanding of the necessity to look each dragon in the eye and do what I needed to do to defeat each one as they crossed my path. One at a time. Each unique experience of growth --and consequent slaying--was at once exhilarating and exhausting. I have never felt so alive!!!
I will return later today to provide some concrete examples...
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