Sunday, August 18, 2013

Waiting to Exhale



Angela Bassett

Remember the scene from the movie Waiting to Exhale when one of the characters, played by Angela Bassett, ceremoniously burned all of her soon-to-be ex-husband's processions? That iconic moment gave women a reason to cheer.  Angela Bassett's character in the movie, based on Terry McMillan's popular book of the same name, was reclaiming her power.  However dramatic, within that moment she snatched back what she had willingly given away.

The radical and perhaps uncomfortable truth is that when people treat us poorly, we are co-creators of that poor treatment.  Eleanor Roosevelt famously said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."  Our consenting to giving our power away general starts in childhood when we adapt to the constructs of the authority figures in our lives.  As children, it is natural and often necessary to adhere to the rules of love and punishment our authority figures, in their own best way, structured for us.  If we were loved for being smart, we strove to get all As.  If we were loved for being of service, we served irregardless of our individual needs.  If we were loved for controlling our emotions, we trained ourselves never to visit our emotional landscapes.  Many of us continue to carry these ideals of love and punishment into adulthood even though those ideals no longer serve us.  Absent the physical authority figure, we often re-create the same standards of love from our childhood and even punish ourselves through toxic relationships, drink, drug, food, sex, shopping, people-pleasing and a host of other ways when we fall short. 

Being a former woman waiting to exhale, I now understand that giving my power away to another in order to receive love no longer serves me.  Missing in our culture is the simple study of loving the self.  I tell my youngest son when he makes a "mistake" to forgive himself, love himself and to be grateful for whatever lesson that "mistake" taught him.  What we may call "mistakes" or "failures" can be re-framed as gifts and learning opportunities if we train our minds to view them as such.  


When we love the self, we can finally let go of our childhood beliefs about receiving love because we understand that the true source of love is within us.  That spark of the Divine that resides in each of us is a wellspring that we often fail to tap.  


If you do find yourself standing in that place of giving your power away, know that you can forgive yourself, love yourself, and have gratitude for the lesson learned.  What is even more powerful, you don't have to burn the car.  More on forgiving others as a means of empowering ourselves in the next post.

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Our Sacred Circles*



Nash and I Thanksgiving 2008
I tell my eleven year old son, Nash, that it's time for us to eat better.  I tell him that I want to eliminate cookies and all unhealthy sweets because I love him.  I tell him that I want us to treat our bodies like royalty and eat like kings and queens.  I also tell him, as my 40s wane, that I will need his help to stay a young and vibrant mother.  His response:

             "You're young, Mommy.  You'll always be young."


When I hear his words, I want to live up to them.  I decide in that very moment to stay young in my Nash's eyes.  The sacred circle that Nash and I have created as a family is a place where our love can be a mirror to one another.  When I tell Nash he is extraordinary, he sees himself that way.  In turn, the reflection of who I am through the loving eyes of my child creates my best, most high self.       


History tells us that human beings are drawn to things circular. We are drawn to circular gatherings again and again in the form of healing circles, reading circles, giving circles, business circles, sewing circles, mentor circles and sacred circles of all types.  Lakota Indian and holy man, Black Elk, states in the book Black Elk Speaks, "The sun comes forth and goes down again in a circle. The moon does the same.... Even the seasons form a great circle in their changing, and always come back again to where they were. The life of a man is a circle from childhood to childhood, and so it is in everything where power moves."


Our power moves within our sacred circles.  With the courage to shift beyond our limiting beliefs and step into the lofty image our loved ones hold of us, we can transcend our fears and doubts to create within ourselves the extraordinary.  I'm embracing a life-long spirit of youth because the mirror my son holds up to me tells me I'll always be young.  Within my sacred circle, I have the courage to be anything I dream I can be.     

How have your sacred circles affected your life?  

*Previously published on A Woman's Place Blog July 7, 2013.  Consider making a donation in the name of someone in your sacred circle!
 

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Lessons from Lincoln



Lincoln engaged in his favorite activity - tearing the stuffing from his bed

Navigating life with three children--two grown and one still under my care--after divorce has been the greatest lesson of my life.  When I can step back and have awareness of what living beyond a 19 year marriage has yielded in terms of growth, I am so very grateful.  Yet, I am not immune to moments of anger, sadness, loneliness and simply being misunderstood and under-appreciated. This week, I felt a sense of being under-appreciated by an adult child.  I wanted my child to acknowledge my sacrifices, my this, my that....  In short, I expected to be validated in a way that only I can give to myself.  Those who have college-age kids can relate to the competing forces of guiding while letting go as our adult children search for a balance between independence and autonomy while still needing support and acceptance.  The answer to balancing those contrasting ideals came to me from an unlikely source--my dog, Lincoln.

Spiritual writer and philosopher, Mark Nepo, said when recounting the words of a Native American elder, "Animals never forget their original instructions, but human beings do."  Those instructions are to love and accept unconditionally.  When my adult children show up during summer breaks and holidays, they are met with the embrace of Lincoln shaking his tail uncontrollably at the door and jumping with excitement because they are simply in the room.  His excitement belies anything given in return.  If they ignore him when they came in, Lincoln holds the same enthusiasm.  He has no expectation of outcome.  He only wants to express his love.

As my adult child left our home, stooping to pet our precious Lincoln with a pure sense of love toward our rescued Pitbull from a just outside of the beltway Washington, D.C. shelter (thus the name, Lincoln), a flood of understanding filled my body.

I had forgotten my original instruction as a mother--to love and accept unconditionally.  I was not in the moment of the gift of my child visiting.  I was outside of that moment in my head with all kinds of expectations from my child, from myself and for the future of our separate and mutual lives.  I fell outside of experiencing what was right before me--the loving gift of being a mother. 

Lincoln taught me to release my grown children to their own journeys and to honor their choices while I honor my own.  Like Lincoln standing at the front door sensing the beauty of his beloved family before they even come into view, I will no longer take for granted the gift of having a beautiful soul come to me, a soul that come through me, by allowing that soul to walk at their own pace along side of me in this life.  Whether or not I see them next to me, behind me, in front of me or not at all, I can sense them, like Lincoln, being not too far off in the distance.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Four Ways to Solve Pressing Problems



Photo By Azure McBride

The meditative mind is a creative, open and aware mind.  Learning to harness that energy can produce amazing results in business, love or in any area of our lives.  We can direct that fertile energy by tapping our meditative mind in these four ways:

1.       Give Yourself Permission to Solve Problems in Your Sleep
Dreams have informed me for much of my life.  I began writing my memoir based on a recurring dream of my father.  To use the information in your dreams, set an intention to resolve a problem before you go to bed.  Simply state the problem and ask that the answer be given while you sleep.  If you fear you may have trouble remembering your dream, set an intention to remember the dream by saying to yourself several times, "I will remember my dream when I wake up."  It is a simple practice, but it does work.  Place a notebook by your bed and when you wake, record your dream.  Clues to solving stubborn issues may appear.  You may need to repeat this practice over several days or weeks, but with time you will see a theme emerging from your dreams that will give you guidance.  It is not wishful thinking, scientists are discovering more about our dreams and how the brain functions every day.  Robert Strickgold, associate professor of psychiatry at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center and Harvard Medical School states: "...sleep permits a time when the brain can search for and identify useful associations between recently formed emotional memories and older ones, helping to place them in a more useful context, from which their resolution may become more readily apparent."

2.       Take a Mindful Walk
Albert Einstein and writer Virginia Woolf both took walks to clear their minds to create the space for new ideas to emerge.  Walking, especially in nature, can quiet the voices in our heads that keep us from getting a clear answer to our problems.  Walking can also help us break through creative blocks.  Taking a mindful walk simply means quietly putting our attention on our surroundings.  We do not need to overly observe, all that is required is to gently notice.  When we find our mind cluttering up with worries or chores of the day, we can redirect our attention towards our environment.  When we consciously let go of whatever it is that is plaguing us and decide to enjoy every step of our path, our mind is open to new ideas and solutions.

3.       Deep Breathing
The art of deep breathing from the diaphragm is as old as man and is a practice used by athletes, women in labor, singers, actors and in mediation.  I find this practice to be quickest and easiest way to reset my inner emotional landscape, and I use it daily if not several times per day.  Deep breathing facilitates an  energy that the Chinese call Chi, the Hindu call Prana and masters of old and scientist today tout can strengthen the body, make us calmer and even happier.  We can take a deep breath any time we feel stressed, hold it for a count of three or four and then release it fully like deflating a balloon to recharge our bodies and minds. 

4.       Create a Mantra
Creating a mantra is another practice that I use often.  By simply repeating a phrase such as "I know the answer," "I trust," or a popular mediation mantra, "I am," connecting ourselves with our divine entity if we so believe, a more positive mental state can be achieved.  The easy practice of creating a mantra and repeating it to ourselves several times when we feel stuck can redirect our thinking and infuse us with confidence and hope.


Monday, May 27, 2013

Thank You For Sharing Toshi's Story - Guest Blogger Karen T.

This piece reminds me of how tomorrow is not promised. I've been thinking so much about my friend, Yvette, who died in 1989 from going toxic. She had chemotherapy for leukemia.
Karen is a writer, editor, poet, singer, spoken word performance artists

She was the person who taught me what friendship was about.

She was so religious. She and I used to talk about faith all the time, and she, like most true believers, accepted my atheism. She had a roommate in the hospital who had skin cancer. Her face was oozy and discolored. The woman whined all the time: "Why me? Why me? Why me?" She drove Yvette crazy, and Yvette said one of the most profound things I have ever heard, and that was, "She does not understand the crucifixion."

That's when I understood what her level of belief was. She accepted her fate as something that her god had control over.  She was a CPA/auditor type and didn't want to go back to that work. I told her to go to St. John's to study theology, and she was just about ready to do that when she died. Twenty-nine years old. Broke my heart down to the nitty gritty.


Sunday, May 26, 2013

The Gift of Uncertainty

copywritten materal
Toshi and I at the Event
Photo by

When I was 8 years old, I mapped out my whole life.  I would marry a wonderful man at 25, have two children (a boy and a girl of course), and live happily ever after in a house that I would design that sat on a wooded lot in northern California (I spared no details).  Well, despite my planning, many twists in my life foiled my plans.  I kicked and screamed through most of those detours cursing the fact that my precious plans had been derailed. 

The fight to know, to get it right, to make it work, to plan and schedule our goals and dreams seems to be the impermeable imprint on our lives.  I listened to the words of a woman whom I love as a sister.  This woman sits at the helm of an organization that champions other women.  Her words came at the most planned for, anticipated and seminal annual fundraising event for her organization.  At the event, our friend, Toshi, collapsed right after the sit-down dinner and auction.  She was unconscious.  Three nurses in their party dresses, floppy hats and high-heeled shoes were immediately by Toshi's side.  With moist eyes, my sister-friend said:

            "I did not plan for this."   

Her words haunted me.  She bore the burden of planning for someone's illness like I bore the burden of planning out my entire life at the age of 8.  Yes, we are to plan, to participate, to engage in the details of our lives, but we are also supposed to let go.  That letting go is a beautiful gift that we often restrict ourselves from receiving.  Elizabeth Lesser, author of Broken Open, said "My spiritual practice is all about becoming comfortable in uncertainty."  When we have planned the best we can, and dreamed as high as we can dream, the only next logical step is to let go.

I let go that night when Toshi was taken to the hospital by ambulance.  I let go when five hours later she remained in a coma.  I let go two days later when she passed from this life.  A peacefulness settled inside of me when I was told she was no longer physically a part of our world.  A deep sense of gratitude flooded my being for experiencing the power of Toshi's life.  Settling with ease and comfort into the mysteriousness of the unknown can yield greater gifts than our most tediously detailed and perfectly executed plans.  The ease of letting go is a necessary counterweight to the burden of our planning.  The gifts in the unknown are always surprising, and whether we understand in the moment or not, exactly what we had planned for.