Category: healing

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Wishes and Prayers Answered and Becoming

When my daughter was younger she used to wish upon the sun, using the logic that our sun is a star. She would alter the well-known rhyme to “Starlight, star bright, first star I see alright. I wish I may I wish I might have the wish I wish in daylight” and she would make whatever wish her heart called in that moment.

She also prays to the Tooth Fairy. After each tooth lost, all eight now, before we start to read our story for the night, she will quietly lay down on her bed, fold her hands together at her chest, close her eyes and send a prayer to the Tooth Fairy that she not take her tooth, that she understand her unwillingness to let this literal piece of herself go just yet, and could she please go ahead and leave the money anyhow. (If you were wondering, of course the Tooth Fairy always answered by complying).

To date, this sweet girl always asks before she gets a piece of candy or sits down at the computer or to watch TV. She makes sure she is “allowed” and at closing in on eight, I wonder how much longer this will last. How will her way of checking in with us change? When will she stop asking permission and instead choose to ask for forgiveness? How did we ever raise a girl concerned with rules?

Curled up close at the end of the day, or as we are at the sink brushing our teeth or at the breakfast table or randomly in the car she will say “Thank you for being the best mommy in the whole world!”  I’m never sure what I have done to deserve those words, and certainly could give you a long list of things I have done to prove I do NOT deserve those words, and yet she gives them to me, a gift straight from her soul into mine.

I am in awe of this girl child growing into a young woman. I’m not always sure where she came from, and the joke in our family for a long time was we didn’t know who her mother was. Despite all my foibles and outright failures she is a beautiful person, shining brightly every day. I’m honored to be her mama, and I hope as she grows and our relationship has its storms, we both always remember this: She is her own Self—she is not mine even though she came from me, both my body and my heart, and I will always love her and be proud of her, even when I don’t agree with her or her choices.

Because there will likely come a day when she makes a choice that worries me or scares me or worse: reminds  me too much of myself. I pray that I enter those times with grace, allowing her to be her own person, make her own mistakes or even prove me wrong with my worry or fear. I pray I don’t get lost in my own ego and judgement and that I am gentle with her, even more so than when she was an infant, even more so than I am now. I pray I always let her know that no matter what, I am her mama, I love her, and she always has a place in our home.

I pray for a life for her I did not know. I pray for a relationship between us to be one I did not have with my own mother until it was almost too late.

I know in my heart, it will be different, she and I will be different, our relationship has already been different these first seven plus years. And I breathe in the truth that I let go of the stories of how children should be raised and how girls should act and held onto my own truth of what it means to be a mama, what it is to raise a child with love and respect and compassion, what it means to raise a girl into a woman.

And so my prayers may already be answered as I look over at this beautiful girl, engrossed in a game of creation. Her gangly legs bent and her posture that of a teen already. I say another silent prayer: please slow down, please let me savor these between moments a bit longer.  Because the truth is,  it all goes too fast, even when we are paying attention.

her own self

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Being Sensual

The Merriam-Webster online dictionary defines sensual as: 1. relating to or consisting in the gratification of the senses or the indulgence of appetite; 2. sensory; 3a. devoted to or preoccupied with the senses or appetites; 3b. voluptuous; 3c. deficient in moral, spiritual, or intellectual interests.

Psychology Today defines sensual as: in essence, how in tune you are with your senses. Do you notice smells, textures, sounds? How sensual you are plays a key role not only in your sex life but in your overall ability to derive pleasure from life as a whole.

Honestly the “official” Merriam-Webster definition pisses me off. It has a puritanical overtone to it that encourages us to be alienated from our bodies, from our senses, from both pleasure and pain. It labels being sensual as an “indulgence” and states right out that it equals being “deficient in moral, spiritual or intellectual interests.” It may as well say, if you are a sensual being (which every human on the planet is) you are a harlot, a whore; you are depraved and non-spiritual. I have a LOT of issue with this. The definition screams of oppression, to me, and well that just doesn’t sit right my body, or mind, or spirit.

Psychology Today (PT) takes out all of the judgement when defining the word sensual and says exactly what it is: being in tune with one’s senses. There is  no puritanical judgement involved and in fact PT states that being in-tune with your senses allows you to “derive pleasure from life as a whole.” And deriving pleasure is a Good Thing!

Because isn’t this what we all want? A pleasurable, joyful life? Isn’t this part of being alive — to feel, to smell, to taste, to hear, to see; to take in and put out beauty? To feel good in our own skin, to be present in the moment, to release shame from our Selves? To tune into the spirituality and connection to the world that being into to our senses allows?

For me, the answer is a resounding YES. This is where my course Savoring Sensuality grew from: a place of connecting to the present moment, to my own body, and finding pleasure and joy, right now. This course is a course in self-care, a course in connection–to our Self, to our world, to the present moment, to those we love. It is a course in slowing down and learning to savor what we have right now. It is about gratitude and seeing the abundance that fills our lives now.

As those of us in the northern hemisphere start to settle into fall, to get cozy, to move inside our homes, our minds, our bodies and spirits as the days become shorter, it is a perfect time to start to deeply tune into our bodies, spirits and selves. We are surrounded by the comforting smells and tastes of fall and winter foods, by the feel of warmth and smell of earthiness of a fire in our fireplace, as we curl up in our cozy sweaters and fleeces and under fluffy warm blankets, our senses are coming alive and it is the perfect opportunity to slow down and savor those perfect moments.

For those in the southern hemisphere, your world is coming alive from a long sleep. As the flowers bloom and days get longer, now is the time to take those moments and savor the beauty, the re-birth and to open yourself to your own re-birthing process by connecting to your body, to nature, to these perfect moments as they unfold.

Any time of year is the perfect time to connect to our selves, to the present moment. At any time we can start the journey of slowing down and savoring these moments of beauty and grace before they pass us by.

I would love for you to join me on this journey and participate in Savoring Sensuality. The special celebration pricing is available until midnight pacific standard time on Wednesday (that Tuesday night/Wednesday morning) and now is the time to take advantage of this deep discount and join the amazing community that is growing around this program. We begin on November 1. For more information and to register click right here.

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Myths, Personal and Otherwise

While reading for school I came across this quote:

    Our stories are not always composed by us, but come to us in powerful ways from others. If, as children, family members describe us in a particular way, these family stories often remain the same no matter how we change. What others believe about us, what we learn in school, in the media and from the reactions of strangers, define our stories.
In searching for alternative narratives about ourselves, we are often drawn to stories about others. Listening to these stories may offer us new possibilities, but if our new life stories are to fully emerge, we must also challenge the underlying myths and prejudices that limit us.”
— Ellen Pulleyblank Coffey “The Variable Tales of Life” (2007) as quoted in “Revisioning Family Therapy: Race, Culture and Gender in Clinical Practice”, Monica McGoldrick & Kenneth Hardy (eds).

This quote speaks of how our personal stories evolve, where they come from, and in many ways more importantly, how we can heal and rewrite them. It is true that community and society and our families and friends contribute to the creation of our negative myths about ourselves, and it is ironically true that through our community, families and friends we can re-write them, creating positive stories about ourselves and our lives.

I’ve written in the past about my personal struggle with the myth of the Not Good Enough or Bad Mother. I’ve struggled with this generations old story from both sides of my family. The struggle, in many ways, has guided me to being a Good Enough Mother (in Winnicott’s terms) and has led me to develop a strong and deep connection with my daughter. Most days I am in a place of peace with this story, knowing both in my head and heart that I am a Good Mama, that my girl and I have a beautiful relationship and that I am breaking a pattern and cycle and myth that was handed to me on a silver platter. It has taken every rebellious part of me to break away from what was given to me, to re-write motherhood for our family and for myself, and I honestly couldn’t have done it without my friends, my husband, or, perhaps ironically, my mothers (birth, step and adopted) and grandmothers.

Still, some days I struggle. I struggle with my daughter’s independence and free will. I struggle with her opinions and self-determination. I struggle when she has absolutely no interest in following the path I think she should follow. I struggle with acknowledging her, who she is and where she is at and accepting her wholly and encouraging her to be who she is. I struggle with walking that line of guiding her, being a present parent to help her function in life and society and squashing her individuality, her sense of Self, her brilliant, creative and sensitive soul.

It’s a line all parents walk, I believe. We have all our own shit, some of it buried deep. Those messages we were given when we were squashed, how we weren’t good enough just as we were, how we needed to measure up to some arbitrary standard, how we needed to fit in (but never felt like we really did). When our children start to express who they are, we have a knee-jerk reaction to squash, simply out of defense for ourselves, simply because it is all that we know, simply because we can’t always see the nonduality of life and how it is yes/and not either/or.

In those moments I struggle to find my breath. Sometimes I find it, sometimes I stop myself from saying some shaming thing or another. Sometimes I can slow down enough to open the space for her to be her and acknowledge my own pain and give each of us a little extra love.

Sometimes. Not always.

There are the times when the shaming words come out and sometimes I immediately regret them and start the repair work and sometimes it takes me a while to get there. This is human. This is part of my journey.

There are other parts to this motherhood journey. Myths that speak of value and worth, both financial and emotional. Myths that on bad days can break me down into a ball of sobbing tears, feeling that my girl would be better off with any other person on the planet for a mother than with me. Days that can start to eat me alive. Myths, that on good days, just piss me off and help me stand tall, knowing that today, in this moment, I am not that person, I am not the prescribed, pre-ordained bad mother, knowing that in this moment I am doing the healing work of generations.

I have a gorgeous circle of women who help me explore these myths. We guide each other on our journeys of digging into the stories that have been so deeply ingrained in us, and yet aren’t true. It is through this community of beautiful souls that the deeper healing is happening. Together we explore, we heal, we deconstruct and rebuild. We don’t erase, but we do re-write.

I have many circles and tribes, some of them intimate and in-person, some of them global and online only, some a mix of the two. It is through my circles that I excavate my myths and guide others to unearth their own. I believe that in order to heal, to find our way to joy and the present moment we need to understand what has stopped us, what pieces of our past and present, what messages from our families and our cultures, have defined us in a way that doesn’t ring true to us any more. This deep exploration of who I Am is, to me, a vital piece of our healing process.

Who I Am changes, sometimes from day to day, or moment to moment and with each shift of the tide I’m given the opportunity to explore the myths, to heal and to rewrite or embrace as I feel moved to do in that moment.

I love this journey. I love my own growth and change and I am deeply grateful for the people who allow me to be witness to their own growth change. It is a process, an unfolding and an awakening and I deeply believe that together we can heal: our Selves, each other and the world.

It is my life work, the unearthing of personal myths, guiding others while they guide me, finding our true selves and healing generations long stories of pain and lack. It is my life work, this rebuilding of relationship to our Selves, to each other, to our world. It is my life work to heal and be a part of other’s healing, to bring change and love and joy into the world. It is my life work to find and share the beauty of the present moment, to laugh deep belly laughs and to cry body-wrenching sobs and to support others in their similar yet different journeys.

I am grateful for this life and this life’s work. I am grateful for you, allowing me to be a part of your journey.

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Silly is what Silly does

I’ve been digging into this idea of Silly for a few days now and have come up against the same question over and over: What is “Silly”?

I believe we often think of silly as synonymous with goofy and/or childish (as opposed to childlike). Silly often gets a negative wrap, we are often told throughout our lives “Don’t be silly” which is often translated to “Don’t be stupid.”

Silly, I’m finding, is bigger than all that and is a positive, not negative, experience. Silly is going against the grain, being a rebel.  Silly is doing something unexpected, just because we can. Silly is about not being efficient, about taking a “wrong” turn on purpose and exploring. Silly is also about playing, experimenting and having fun. Silly is about stepping into our vulnerability and embracing the butterflies and weird sensations that brings forth. Silly is about connecting to our joy, to releasing our fears. Silly is about nourishing ourselves and finding ways to play and care for our souls. Silly is about surrendering to our passions and going for it.

And yes, silly is also about being childlike. In the way that children are curious about their world and ask lots of questions and want to understand everything. In they way children explore without regard to any end product. In the way that children embrace life and want to experience every aspect of it.

Today is Day 5 of my Silly Challenge. Over the last five days I have stomped in mud puddles, sang songs out loud, danced, taken the long, inefficient way to run some errands. I’ve also stepped out of my comfort zone and connected with people I haven’t really connected with before but deeply wanted to, sat and listened to music with my girl: simply sitting and listening; I’ve taken a painting class with a friend, I’ve gone to bed early and then woken up at midnight and watched Gossip Girl.

Some of these things may not be considered “silly” by others. For me, each of them has been a step in either going outside of my comfort zone or doing what I want to do instead of what I “should” do.

That’s the essence of “silly” for me: letting go of shoulds and doing the coulds, doing what my heart wants in the moment, just for fun.

Today’s planned silly act is making cobbler and sausage for dinner. Because I can. And it sounds good. And dinner for breakfast always feels like a treat. (It’s also not my original idea. One of my best friends gave this one to me). I know there will be unplanned silliness too, because part of silliness is stepping into Yes. It’s about opening to the possibilities.

I would love for you join me on this challenge. You can hop on this Silly Train at anytime. We’re using the hashtag #30daysofsilly to see how others are taking the challenge. There is no right or wrong way to be silly. Being silly looks different for everyone. We all have our own comfort zones to break out of a bit. So, really, step into Silly, step into Yes, step into Joy and expanding your experience of fun and pleasure and life. I’d love to hear about how it works (and doesn’t work!) for you.

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Accepting love

The first couple of weeks after I came home from my week at school were a bit rough on my girl and me. We kept trying to reconnect and not quite making it. There were a lot of tears, from both of us, feelings of rejection and being misunderstood.

I felt frustrated because she would say she wanted to do this or that with me, state that we just weren’t getting enough time together, and then when I would try to play whatever game she requested, or the do the thing she wanted, she would get angry if I asked too many questions or didn’t do something or the other exactly as she wanted.

Or so, that’s how it looked on the outside.

My feelings were hurt yes, and yes I was frustrated because I too wanted desperately to reconnect with my daughter. I wanted to play and be silly and have fun. I put off doing housework and business work so that we could have time together.

I knew how her heart was hurting. I knew that her lashing out both had everything and nothing to do with me. I knew that her survival mechanisms were trying to protect her from further separation, further hurt. I knew that in oh-so-many ways she wasn’t really in control of her reactions–they were primal, coming up from her reptilian brain.

I persevered. It was hard at times. There were moments when I started to slip back into my reptilian brain also, times when my feelings were hurt so deeply, times when my frustration would start to get the best of me and I would start to spiral into anger.

In those hard moments I would find my breath, find myself. I would remind myself all I know of attachment. I would remind myself all I know of development. I would remind myself how her “rejection” was stirring up my own childhood wounds of rejection and abandonment and while my response was triggered by her it really had little to do with her. I would remind myself I was the parent, the adult.

Most of the time this worked. Not every time. There was repair work I did over the last couple weeks too, apologizing after cruel words slipped out of my mouth, giving lots of hugs and snuggles, listening to heartbeats, tickling and playing and finding ways to get us both back into the present moment.

Today my girl and I played a game she made up. It was something like hockey, but somewhat different. We played in the garage with a ball and some tree branches, she led the play and I followed, adding in questions and comments and saying “I’m open” or “I need to pass” on queue. It was fun and I felt like we deeply connected while playing. My girl’s eyes were so lit up and I could see how excited she was that here we were playing a game of her own creation.

This parenting thing changes us, fundamentally. I’ve shifted and adapted and grown to love play, something I once avoided at all costs. I had read Lawrence Cohen’s Playful Parenting (which I highly recommend to all parents) and I intellectually understood the value and power of play, and yet my body had so much resistance. I have used a timer to help me move past my anxiety, to put limits that my brain and body could handle, to ease play into my experience, into my body, into my heart.

As time has moved forward I’ve found myself enjoying play more and more. I’ve left the timer behind. I’ve opened myself to the deep connection my daughter and I have. More importantly I have come to accept her beautiful unconditional love.

Accepting unconditional love from another person is terrifying, overwhelming and powerful. When we are able to accept the love of another we are opening ourselves to healing our past hurts as well as opening ourselves to the possibility of future hurts. It is the fear of the the potential future hurts that blocks so many of us from accepting love and kindness from others. Fear stops us from deeply feeling the love each and every one of us is meant to feel from another or to experience the profound joy that comes with the experience of that love.

These last two weeks I have shed tears and held my girl while she shed hers. I have examined my own reactions, repaired when appropriate, owned my own shit, and understood and empathized with where my girl is in each moment. And while we didn’t play Barbies yesterday due to her own frustrations and primal defense mechanisms, we did play a rousing game of something like hockey, but not quite, today, where we both laughed and played, where we felt connected and understood. I accepted my girl’s love and she accepted mine.

This is where my growth and transformation is. In the accepting. In the acknowledging. In releasing my deeply internalized myths of not being worthy or good enough. In moving through the fear. In loving another and deeply breathing her love for me, finding joy and peace in her love.

We find our transformation in our relationships. We find love, peace and joy through our connections. We heal and repair our broken hearts by moving into vulnerability and allowing others in. We love and accept love as though our very lives depended upon it. Because quite frankly, they do.

A vision page created from the prompt "I accept." I accept: (my) Dearest Living love Jewel. Yes I do.
A vision page created from the prompt “I accept.” I accept: (my) Dearest Living love Jewel. Yes I do.

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