Love

Ah, the biggie—love.  How much time, money and energy we spend in our quest for love—that murky, ephemeral feeling.  It is fascinating how relentless we humans are in trying to grasp something that will dissolve in our hands like sugar in water.  Feelings, by their very nature, arise and then pass, time and again.

When I shift my perspective and view love as conduct,  I give love the opportunity to flourish no matter who is (or isn’t) in my life.  Some of my hardest lessons in life have been about discerning the difference between what love in action is, and what it is not.  Over and over, I have been blessed by teachers (in the form of my children, friends, mentors and therapists) who have shown me my error.  “Your help isn’t helping...do not rob someone of their experience...take your hands off.”  This has gone counter to my strong tendency to believe I was a loving person, and loving in my desire to help and heal.

The other challenging and exhausting lesson I’ve had to learn is the parallel between loving myself and loving others.  I tried many times in my life, to pour all my desires for love into another, while I was filled with self-loathing.  It doesn’t work.  It’s hard to admit, but my behavior in the name of love was often manipulative, suffocating and controlling—everything except loving and it came from often unconscious fears and a belief in lack.

A big turning point came a couple of decades ago when I made a concerted and consistent effort to simply love and accept myself as I was—including taking a hard look at all of my “flaws” and accepting them, too.  (This is an ongoing process.)  As I walked my usual hike and bike trail in contemplation,  I experienced one of those moments that literally made me gasp.  I had a moment of grace.  A feeling washed over me that I could only describe as being in love.  I felt giddy, joyful, filled with light and possibility.  I felt connected to everything—the ground, the trees, the water, the birds, the cars, the city—everything.  What was extraordinary was that not a single thing had changed in my outer life.  In my late 30s, I was not in a romantic relationship.  I had financial struggles and I hadn’t even completed my undergrad degree.  Still, I was flooded with the experience of a deep and abiding love that has never left me, no matter my circumstances.  More than a feeling, it was a knowing—this is who I am, who we all are...

Loving life and loving others from this state of being has become easier, clearer and more authentic with time, practice and courage.  I do my best to choose loving actions that honor me and allow others the freedom to choose for themselves. It ain’t always easy.  Of course, like with all learning experiences, I still misjudge and misstep.  I sometimes still feel anger and fear.  I fall back into old patterns.  I course-correct over and again.  I take deep breaths and remember the love within even as I hear all the mind chatter to the contrary.  I keep breathing, holding my tongue until I am able to take responsibility for my feelings.  I wait until my behavior toward others can be congruent with what I know to be true.  Love is a condition of our existence. Loving is a verb.

Include the Excluded

There’s a phrase that I first heard in a Soul Motion® conscious dance class as an exercise-- “include the excluded.”  This was an invitation to shift my way of seeing, way of being and experiencing.  As I reflected upon this, it brought to my awareness everything that was going on in my body--a stiff low back, an achey right hip and a corn between my toes (not to mention a slight feeling of internal tension and anxiety).  My first impulse was to ignore or push away these sensations and my judgments about them.  However, as I just allowed everything to be as it was, breathing into the areas of discomfort as I gently moved with rather than against, the tension began to subside.

That encounter led me to explore further all the ways I tend to resist whatever is happening, including thoughts, feelings and even people with whom I interact.  As I followed this thread, I could see an even broader application and how this goes on constantly in the world.  We reject people and events outside our comfort zones--especially those who seem to be different from us whether in appearance, ideology, income, religion, etc. in spite of our proclamations of tolerance, equality and unity.

My awareness circled back around and helped me recognize how my internal state directly influenced my outer experience.  When I simply softened and relaxed into whatever was present, weaving all the threads together, I found there was nothing to reject or push away.  The more I practiced this, the more I noticed a curiosity and acceptance of others.

When we meet ourselves and others with an openness and willingness to simply feel and explore, we expand our capacity to tolerate discomfort and distress.  Incessant judgment falls away.  Beyond that, if we stay with it, possibilities for new perspectives open up.  We experience an expanded view of life.  When we weave together all the multi-colored and messy threads of who we are as humans, we create a unique and beautiful tapestry of wholeness.  More ease.  More self-acceptance.  More peace.  More love.  This becomes, in my experience, a fuller and more joyful way to live, all without trying to change a thing.  Include the excluded--it’s a simple shift in perspective.

“The real voyage of discovery consists, not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”

— Marcel Proust

Rest

Just before Christmas I found myself feeling overwhelmed by the anxious energy of the election aftermath and the holidays.  I tried to participate in all the activities based on old habits--belief in the need to meet what I thought was expected of me, as well as “FOMO”--fear of missing out.  The truth is, I kept pushing it and felt myself developing a respiratory ailment until the Monday before Christmas when I awoke feeling like I’d been hit by a MAC truck.  Everything in my body said, “stop.”  This time, I knew to listen.  For three days I rested, I spoke to no one and didn’t leave my house.  Even though I consciously knew better, as I got quiet, I was surprised to hear my own thoughts still pushing, judging, shaming me for my need to withdraw and rest.

One thing that generally helps me is tuning in to the natural world and the natural rhythm of life.  I’d been through this before, but had forgotten for a time.  The instinct to slow down, spend time in solitude and sleep more in the winter time is natural.  This urge is not laziness or apathy, despite all the shoulds imposed by our social structures or our own beliefs.  Hibernation is necessary.  Dormancy does not mean death.  For us humans, it means that much activity is taking place in the unseen depths of our innermost being, even though things appear to be at a standstill.  Our thoughts, feelings and previous experiences become compost--rich soil from which to grow beautiful new fruit.

So, in December and much of January, I listened to my body and took the rest I needed and guess what? The world did not end because I paused! I avoided illness and felt renewed and replenished. I thoroughly enjoyed a sweet, low-key Christmas Day with my precious son, daughter-in-law and two-year-old granddaughter.

Resisting our need for rest creates more stress.  When we attune our own lives to nature and its cycles, we can be more in harmony within ourselves and actually be more productive once we’ve recharged.  Thus, when we go about our day, we give to our work, our family and friends from fullness and true generosity rather than from depletion.  The ebb and flow are natural, just as the tides come in and go out and the flowers blossom and fade away.  Inhale, exhale.  Take action, rest.  This is the flow of life.

“Stillness is what creates love. Movement is what creates life. To be still and still moving—this is everything.”

— Do Hyun Choe

Reflections on the Election

It’s November, 7, 2016—the eve of the presidential election. There seems to be great tension in the air...tension everywhere.  People seem angry, confused, uncertain, divided.

Whether you are a leader on the world stage, leader of this country, leader in your community, organization or family, or simply a leader of your own life—please, for the love of all that makes life not only bearable, but worth living...listen.  Listen for what lies beneath the words.

I’ve been reflecting on all the vitriol that’s “out there” and in our faces seemingly all the time.  Clearly, many people are expressing a lot of opinions and frustrations.  I keep asking myself what is being expressed and what is not being addressed.  I have seen a few articles asking these same questions.  It seems that we, as a nation, have been acting out.

When a child acts out, most of the time they are doing just that—acting out.  They may act out fear, frustration, impatience or the chaos in their environment because they do not yet have the skill or maturity to articulate clearly with their words.  They are doing their best to communicate with the abilities they have.  It is our job to seek to understand what is at the root of the problem, and address that.

My hope is that regardless of our experiences, beliefs or opinions, we can truly listen to what’s really going on.  I hope that we can remember the “golden rule” and practice that, and treat each and every other living being with respect, dignity and as we would our “little children.” Rather than finger-pointing, blaming and shaming, my hope is that we, as human beings and leaders, will listen to one another with compassion and curiosity, and look for ways to heal what needs healing or solve what needs solving for all of us.  

When we dig into our particular positions, it is impossible to understand another.  When we open our hearts and minds, things can change.  What would our lives be like if we began with the question, “How can we all have what we need?”

Can’t we disagree and still treat one another with kindness, respect and decency? Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.  Walk a mile in their shoes.  Consider what lies beneath and listen with an open heart and mind.  I don’t always get there myself, but I work at it.

I love the old film with Jeff Bridges, “Starman.”  The main thing I remember about that film is that near the end, Starman (an alien) awaits his capture by our government.  He looks at the woman who is helping him and asks, "Shall I tell you one of the things I like most about your species? It is that, when things are at their worst, you are at your best."

We’re all in this...together. Let’s be at our best, even when things seem to be at their worst.