Photo by Aleksandra Bogulslawska
I want to tell you something. It’s important.
You are a good person. Yes, you.
You don’t have to eat clean, meditate, be nicer, work more, work less, be conscious about your spending or your parenting to be good. You don’t have to work to be worthy.
You don’t have to BE good because you already ARE good.
Goodness is the ground of your being.
I know some of us got confused about this along the way. I sure did.
So many women come to me paralyzed by indecision or compulsively trying to figure life out. They really, really want to do it right.
I understand. Been there. Go there. When we swallow the truth long enough, our intuitive voice gets (whisper voice) very very quiet. Continue reading
I have wanted a Sara Silvio necklace since I saw my friend Staci wearing one two years ago. This year it felt exactly right; I bought myself a gorgeous piece, wrapped it up and gifted it to myself on New Year’s Day.
It was a meaningful purchase, Sara’s work carries the divine feminine in a way that feels powerful. 2014 was a big year. More than any other year, I feel that I have responded to the call of my soul. I feel more shaky-kneed alive and on purpose than ever and this beautifully crafted adornment, aptly called the “journey” necklace was emblematic of saying yes to mySelf.
I wore it everywhere for a couple of weeks. And then last week, as I packed to get ready for my trip to California, to help facilitate the next group of CCTP life coaches, I put my hand to my throat and felt immediately sick to my stomach.
Gabriel was sweet and sympathetic and looked fervently for at least three minutes before declaring it, sadly, lost forever. I didn’t give up so fast and looked everywhere and called every place I’d been, sent emails to my coworkers and called to my mother. St. Anthony was petitioned (he always comes through). I emailed Sara who graciously said she would offer me half price on a replacement.
I didn’t really want a replacement though, I wanted that necklace, my necklace.
It was not lost on me that Gabe’s bedtime story that night included a parable about a king who was hyper-attached to a particular scroll, which was embossed with magic ink that could only be read under the light of a rare moon. When the special moon comes and the scroll can be deciphered, it reads:
“You only loose what you cling to.”
Whoosh! What a couple of weeks it’s been! The holidays, the brand New Year, followed closely by a power-full moon in Cancer. I had some big feelings movin’ on through and I know I wasn’t alone in that.
I was eating some ice cream the other night just before a session with my coach and as I was putting the pint back in the freezer, I had a little miracle moment. I was having some big feelings, yes. And I had eaten some ice cream, yes. And the two had nothing to do with each other. There I was, putting the ice cream back into the freezer and moving on with my night. Getting support.
This is an everyday moment now that food is about nourishment and pleasure. But that night, time opened up, as it sometimes does, and I remembered clearly the torture and obsession that weighted my life. I felt acutely the freedom I’ve dared to claim and the commitment that freedom has required. Continue reading
Some time ago, I put a post-it on my fridge that drew some curious glances. It read, simply:
GIVE UP HOPE
It had been a particularly difficult stretch with my son. By difficult, I mean that I sometimes considered that we would be better off apart; I entertained elaborate fantasies of joining some monastic order or retreating to an ashram in the Himalayas for a few years.
Things were just superhuman-ly hard.
And the hardest part, I came to see, was the belief that things should be or were about to be different. And that it was up to ME to figure out some way to fix them.
The hardest part was the schizophrenic swinging between fear and desolation: “This is horrible, horrible, horrible! Worst situation ever. Something is seriously wrong with me! Something is seriously wrong with him!” Or manic hope for the magic bullet: “I’ve figured it out now! It’s about to get better! I have a great new plan!” Continue reading
Let’s talk about feelings. Specifically, let’s talk about what my son and I call “big feelings“, the ones that knock you off your rocker.
It’s one of my favorite subjects, not just because I’m a life coach, but because I am a human being who has spent much of my life totally baffled, overwhelmed, blocked, frustrated, and sometimes victimized by my emotional experience.
I know I’m not alone in this.
The word itself, “emotion” has it’s roots in movement. Emotions are designed to move, to touch, to enliven. And truly, it is their nature to move through us, to come and go with ease, like clouds turn to rain turn to sun.
Yet most of us have a less than fluid relationship with our emotional selves. Continue reading
I have practiced yoga on and off for over a decade. Like most things, I would go when I felt like it, which meant when I was being “good” and then when life seemed shitty, I felt like smoking cigarettes and drinking red wine.
If you’ve ever been to a vigorous heated yoga class with a hangover, you know it’s enough to make you swear off for a couple of months.
The yoga, of course. Continue reading
“Forgiveness is realizing that what you thought happened, didn’t.” -Byron Katie
It’s high-ho holiday time!
In psychiatry, this is our super-busy season. People struggle hard at this time of year.
Memories seem to pop up, unbidden, of difficult or wonderful holidays gone by. We think about who we miss. We get together with our families and it doesn’t feel like it looks in the movies. Or maybe we are estranged from our families and we feel alone and ashamed.
Even if we are graced with a connected and (mostly) functional family and friends, this time of year can have it’s challenges. Obligation and hyper-scheduling, I’m told, are at an all-time high. Expectations can soar through the roof. Continue reading
As a culture, we worship at the twin alters of striving and acquiring.
It’s an addictive religion, and there is no peace in a mind that believes fulfillment is right over the next hill.
Keep climbing. Keep improving. Keep buying.
Fear and exhaustion are related in so many ways. We are so conditioned to move faster, be busier, do/be/get/accomplish more. Ask someone how they are and there is a very good chance the answer will be “busy” or “stressed”.
In a twisted way, busy has become a merit badge. This springs from fear of inadequacy and deep identification with what we do and produce. There’s a collective unconscious agreement that if we take on too much, no one can accuse us of not trying hard enough. Of not being enough. Continue reading
“Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it.” -Eckhart Tolle
There’s a story that’s been often repeated in my family about my cousin Devin’s fourth or fifth birthday. His parents had hosted a party with neighbors and friends and when the time came to open gifts, little Dev was likely overstimulated and tired and caked out. Devin opened his first gift, took a cursory glance and complained “This isn’t what I wanted!”, tossing the present aside. And so, much to his mother’s chagrin, it went with each present.
At a certain point in my healing, it occurred to me that this story is the perfect metaphor for a pattern I was enacting time and again.
I thought it was my job to be good enough, to prove myself, to earn and keep love, to fix, to please, to manipulate (physically and emotionally) myself into a better version, to solve your problems, to solve my problems, to make it happen. I thought if I just did it all right, life would reward me. I would arrive at a place where I felt secure and confident, happy and at peace.
But there were so many moving parts to wrangle and I could never get them to line up to my satisfaction. Even in those brief moments when everything was going according to plan, I couldn’t stop and take it in because I had to keep it all moving along. I made myself sick, quite literally, trying to get and keep it all together.
Ruling the Universe is fucking exhausting.
When I’m working with someone around food and body dissatisfaction, inevitably there comes a conversation about an upcoming social gathering with food. Potlucks and buffet tables conjure all manner of anxious anticipation.
Will there be enough? What will there be? Is there anything I can eat? I’m going to binge, I always do; I can’t help it with all those baked goods. I’m going to take only enough to not be noticed because I can’t possibly eat that food.
It feels overwhelming to be face all of that abundance and choice (or, depending on your perception, powerlessness and limitation)in a social setting to boot.
If food is a primary way that you communicate desire and pain, you can gather a lot of information about your relationship to life by how you behave at a potluck or buffet. How you eat, as Geneen Roth says, tells all. Continue reading