Be careful what you meditate for…

Sunday morning I listened to Christine Page’s Island Of Memories meditation. She guided me to an island to meet wise elders that had been waiting for me. There was a gift from them on a table. She said it was an object that belonged to me but that I had not seen in this lifetime. I was guided to connect with this item and to learn from it.

The message from my object was to find my determination, clarity, voice and certainty. I liked this message. I liked the way it made me feel. I felt determined, clear, vocal and certain.

At the end of the meditation Christine suggested I journal my findings. I knew if I took the time to journal I would further delay my much coveted first-cup-of-Sunday-morning-coffee. But I have trusted Christine for many years and I knew myself. As clear as the details were in that moment, this afternoon I would be asking myself, “What were those four words?” (In fact, as I write this 1 hour later I can only remember determined and clear, I had to look in my journal to find the other two.)

So I pulled out my journal and wrote.

Those of you that journal know the phenomenon of when your hand writes something before your brain registers it as a thought. That is what happened. I wrote the details of the attributes. Then wrote, “Find determination, clarity, voice and certainty in everything that I do.”

Initially I missed the nuanced difference in this statement. I was in my familiar, exhaustive search of finding the activities I am determined, clear, vocal, and certain about. “Is IT my writing that I haven’t done in over 6 months. Is IT furniture painting that I just don’t seem to make time for? Is IT my relationships which usually win my time without a thought? Is IT my work? Or…is IT all the things I tell myself I should be doing. A Tai Chi Class? Yoga? Qigong? Cleaning out the garage?”.

After racking myself silly with, “What is IT?” my self preservation lovingly stepped in, as she always does, and conveniently helped me forget what I was looking for…or was that my age? Either way I was relieved, happily distracted, and off to make my coffee.

My morning routine didn’t seem to change much. I did move a bit more slowly, taking time to notice my grandmothers plates as I emptied the dishwasher, looking deliberately at the different patterns, saying out loud to am empty kitchen, “Each one is prettier than the next.” I felt my love for these plates. I did light some candles, turn on Sunday morning Baroque, and spent a deliberate moment admiring the Stargazer Lilies on my dining room table.

As I sat down coffee in hand, certain I was sitting to write because yesterday I promised myself I would, I felt my determination. As I wondered what the hell I would write, I felt my clarity and voice and began this story.

Half way through, while searching for the spelling of a word, I accidentally deleted the post. I searched and searched for a way to bring it back. I was determined! My Help bar told me coldly told me,You can’t undo this action.

Really? My Self passed before my eyes. All the ways I move on from this kind frustration. I can start the laundry. It’s Heidi’s birthday I can call her and catch up. I can take the Christmas decorations down…yes they are still up. I could go for a walk.

Or…I could bring my determination, clarity, voice and certainty to this project, as I had been guided to do, and begin again. I sat for a LONG moment, fingers on the keyboard, trying to recapture my pithy, funny, thoughtful first draft.

I grudgingly started over. With each sentence my reluctance finding her voice, her certainty, her determination, and her clarity.

Distraction is easier. Sometimes.

Listening to and following guidance is not easier, but, it is satisfying. Every single time.

 

With love,
waxseal2

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seeing myself through another’s eyes…

I feel chronically busy. And never done. My TO-DO list keeps growing despite my check marks of completion.

I have a low grade anxiety as I triage. Each task feels urgently important and well passed its intended finish date. When I do take action — sorting through 10 years of bank statements, retirement accounts, bills, etc., to de-clutter and reclaim the spare room/office I have longed for — I torture myself by mentally rehearsing my unfinished project inventory.

I try soothing my over-active mind, as my 2008 Capital One statements cut into my fingers leaving painful paper cuts, convincing myself that I am doing exactly what I should be doing. One thing at a time, I coo. Unfortunately I don’t believe myself.

The other day I found the CD of a workshop my friend Kathleen and I did in 2006 with Christine Page, MD. In this weekend workshop Christine led us through a kind-of psycho-drama using each participant’s astrological charts. It was fascinating, disturbingly accurate and very insightful. Christine recorded each persons session for later listening.

Eight years later I found the CD in my sorting. I slipped it into my car’s sound system as I headed out for the day for a bit of easy listening. I forgot how much I hate the sound of my recorded voice.

I began to remember where I was in my life in 2006 — separated for 2 years, pretty much single parenting and beginning to experiment with dating. The uncertainty and fear I felt back then filled my body as I sat at a stop light. It was a tough time.

In this tender moment my voice from “Christmas Past” came through the car speakers. I heard myself disclose that I believed when I got everyone and everything taken care of — my kids, my marriage/divorce, my eventual move to the city–then I could have the life I wanted. When everyone else was happy and taken care of, then I could be happy.

Hearing this, as I accelerated through the green light taking myself to the next place on the list, I had an aha moment. My kids are good and are taking care of themselves. My new husband is low maintenance. I have moved to the city and am settled. So what’s my problem? According to my 2006 criteria I should be at peace with myself.

Unfortunately, wherever-you-go-there-you-are. I realized in this come-to-jesus moment that I recreated my belief system with new criteria. Now I tell myself, when I get the house completed; the kitchen refurbished, hard wood floors installed, the deck enlarged, etc., then I can have the life I want.

Apparently in my world there will always be more TO DO.

Kathleen called while I was writing this post. I shared my aha moment with her. She listened and laughed as only an old, dear friend who knows you well, can. She told me about me through her eyes. I liked the woman she described. Talking with her helped me see that I have the life I want. I am writing, working a vibrant practice, traveling, enjoying Tom, my kids, my friends, taking advantage of the cities many blessings and slowly getting my home in order.

But even more importantly, she helped me feel better about me. Seeing myself through her eyes let me off my own hook of never enough, never done.

Perhaps if we see ourselves through our loved ones eyes we will hold ourselves with more compassion. Is this true for you?

XO

waxseal2

 

 

 

Bubble Poppers

I met a woman at a party last night. We were introduced because we were both therapists. Well, actually, she is a clinical psychologist. A differentiation that seemed quite important to her as she corrected several people that lumped up together as therapists. We all stood corrected.

We were also introduced because we both have entrepreneurial minds that invent interesting projects and business’s.

So I told her about my blog. I confided my hope to be named one of the top 100 women bloggers. I divulged my book ideas. She listened with seeming interest. She is, after all, a therap….psychologist.

When I was finished spilling my guts she began to point out how ridiculous my ideas were. She did, she really did! I was expecting…sounds like you have really big plans. How does that make you feel? I’m curious about…You know, the useful things therapists say. Instead, in her best patronizing voice she asked if I knew how many bloggers there are in the world trying to do the same thing? How the chances of my making any money through my writing was absurd.

If they hadn’t run out of beer I would excused myself to get a bottle.

My spiritual teacher, Christine Page, talks about Bubble Poppers. People that deflate the dreams of another. There are many explanations of why someone does this.

*A motherly attempt to keep someone safe from a harm they may not foresee-I confess I am guilty of this with my kids.

*A perceived threat to the bubble poppers ego-ugh, I have done this too.

*Meanness-I hope I haven’t done this.

*A belief they (the bubble popper) know what is RIGHT and TRUE. I think my psychologist not-friend falls into this category.

As we left the party I told Tom what had been said. He offered go beat her up.

Instead I said something that surprised me. Has this ever happen to you? You hear yourself say something so profound that you wonder where or who it came from. I said to Tom with a certainty I didn’t feel moments earlier, “I think the universe is testing me. It/She is trying to see how committed I am to my dreams. I have to know if I can hold my self in the face of a wind storm(bag)?”

Who said that?

Did You Know?

…That an adult elephant does not know it can easily pull the stake it is chained to out of the ground because as a baby elephant it tried and couldn’t?

 

…That fish put in a bathtub, while their small bowl is being cleaned, will swim in the same size area as their bowl?

 

…That a baseball player for the Oakland A’s, well known for not being able to make it to second base, overran, then scrambled back to first base on his knees not realizing he had hit a home run?

 

My point you ask? Continue reading