It all stays with us...

Everything that happens to us, stays with us. Our own unique story. All the stuff I'm doing as a parent is forever stuck to my children. All the stuff my parents did is stuck in me. Shaping us and our perspectives, our impressions, our openness or closed-ness...  It isn't like you can leave any of that stuff out - because it's there forever. It's how you choose to carry it.

If we all have stuff, I have my own share. My childhood was marked by the feeling of restriction, of walking on egg shells. I was cared for and had an upbringing that taught me responsibility and a strong sense of duty. I learned to be conscientious. I became very independent. And I believe my parents did the best they could. My mother was very young and naive, my father resentful and insecure. I think they both felt like they were missing out on something - that their lives were supposed to have gone a different direction. I never got the sense that they were content.

I'm wondering about processing those years and how I've been carrying them -- have they shaped me in the way they were meant to, or have I allowed them to twist and disfigure, to bloat and carry more weight? Have I left them "in the past" without properly categorizing them to lighten the load?

The way I (poorly) handle my anger tells me that I didn't learn the right way to deal with strong negative emotion. I didn't have a good role model, and I am not the role model I want to be for my children. This is something I intend to fix. This work has never really been done, and I've always told myself that my childhood was so easy, so ideal, so non-traumatic. Why would I harbor such strong feelings when it comes to my parents? Why aren't those relationships more relaxed and fulfilling? More mutually enjoyable? We are not comfortable around each other. I make my parents feel uncomfortable. Why is that? Why be a jerk? What is that about anyway?

Work to be done...

Elf on a Frigging Shelf

I walked into my son's preschool today to find the teacher busy hunting for a spot to place an Elf. She was excited. Full of energy about this task. I asked her, "What is the Elf going to do in your classroom?" and she said, not kidding, "He's going to report back to Santa on how their behaving!"

This is effed up.

First of all, it's like inviting a spy into a safe space. * Careful! Somebody is watching your every move and if you screw up you will get on the Naughty List! *

They don't need a spy. They need a compassionate safe zone where when they do great things it's because they're great little people. And when they don't do great things, it's because they're great little people learning how to manage their humanness.

I swear, since putting my kids into public school and a traditional American preschool, there have been more controlling measures placed on my lovelies than I can hardly stomach. And it's so accepted and "normal" and everyone just goes along like it's okay.  We are constraining the shit out of our kids. No wonder they're stressed out.  Either they're stressed out, or they just give up and go with the flow, turning their brain off because that makes life easier.  Line up on the line. No talking. No questions. Hands to yourself. Listen to me. Be quiet. Stop moving. Time's up. Sit here. Earn points. Lose points. Do what I say. Stop asking questions.

OMG!!!!!  I walked in the other day and heard a teacher/counselor shaming an entire small group of children because, "You need to get it together! The other class lined up way better than you guys and they're younger than you!"  I don't think they even know what they're saying. They don't put themselves in the shoes of these children. They have little if any empathy -- they are too busy trying to control everything.  And that's frustrating because, Good Luck! These are active, curious little beings who are always sponging up everything around them and they need to move to think, they need to touch to focus, need to experiment to learn.

We are broken in the way we teach, forcing standardized testing, standard measurements for funding, and this cold, accounting approach to education is losing the children in the process. We are broken in the way we parent, stealing joy with every "good job!" and "gold star!" and destroying self esteem with every "shame on you!" and "I am so disappointed." We have forgotten what it's like to be kids.  We're not doing a better job than our parents. I think every parent should have an Elf assigned, marking us up every time we forget to be compassionate to our children.

Softer Pursuit of Perfection

Perfectionism hasn't been my issue, although my husband may argue that point. I have a fair ability to run with risk, to adapt to chaos. 80% right works well for me.

So why am I writing about perfection. I really liked something I heard recently about just giving ourselves a break. Not being so hard-lined with ourselves when we aren't perfect or when something really goes all to hell. That resonated really loud for me and I want to think more about it.

Here's a yoga analogy again. When you're in a super deep stretching pose, say pigeon or something, it's a struggle. Your muscles are saying, "Can't!!!" and your mind is saying, "But come on!" and you have to surrender to it and relax into the pose, letting go of the struggle. You have to soften into it, soften into the muscles and joints where there's tension, and breathe into those places. When you soften, you move more easily into the best version of the pose. Again, a balance of effort and ease.

I love the idea of softening to allow for smoother progress. So often it feels like I need to battle my way forward, to dig in and carve out. Hard edged, armored. And that creates struggle. It doesn't make it easier. And when I'm frustrated with myself for falling short, the conversation in my head is brutal. No mercy.

If I can take a softer route, follow a softer pursuit of perfection and expectation, then I will be kinder to myself (and those around me) and will be calmer and probably more clear-headed. I might see possibilities more easily. I might find a bit of grace for myself.

Breathing my way forward and softening the hard-edged battle-axe task-master persona might actually make me more productive and will definitely make me more balanced.

The Big Fat Fear

I'm terrified of something and it's getting in the way of me feeling like I can be successful as a professional.

I am terrified that I am not smart enough.

Having done well in school, all the way up through high school with the exception of math related subjects, I don't believe that I'm stupid at all. And I believe I can learn things. But I have this awful sense that I have a limited intellect.

This is not something you're supposed to tell anyone or talk about. It's like telling your mortgage company that you lost your job and might need help on the monthly payments. Doesn't help you.

But nobody is reading this blog, and this is top of mind today, so we're out with it.

Where is this fear coming from: I can't remember things that I read. Something I read yesterday, I forget what the main point was. I rarely if ever remember a quote or the name of someone who did something remarkable. I'm often stumbling in conversation because I can't think of a suitable follow up comment, or can't contribute with the name of a good author or movie director. I can't debate - my brain doesn't think fast enough, isn't savvy enough to come up with a skillful retort. My brain has limited running capacity - and there's like a scrim hiding the shriveled, underdeveloped braincells so other people believe me to be this bright, educated person but really, I have everybody fooled.

What do I do with this? I am hungry to learn, but I don't have a strong sense of direction helping guide me to gain mastery in something and allow me to be the expert on something truly valuable. So I'm all over the place, and mastering nothing.

My fear, of being inadequate, is not something I'm alone in. I know that. "Everybody" feels that way. But I feel like I'm expected to be smarter than I am, and that I should be successful in a field that requires intellect. And I just don't know how I'm going to get there...

OMG I forgot to breathe again

Coworkers would guffaw when I shared with them that I forget to breathe all the time. Probably they got a vision of turkeys drowning in the rain, too dumb to look down instead of up. How can you forget to breathe, nimrod?

Well, I stand by my (figurative) statement. Breathing is a practice, and done well it makes me feel Ah-May-Zing. It's shocking, actually, the contrast between when I "forget" and when I once again find my breath.

My children practiced breathing in their school (man I loved their old school). My daughter taught me the school's method of finger breathing and I love it. She put her hand up and took the pointer finger from her other hand, following the outline of each finger on the open hand with inhalation while tracing slowly up, and exhalation tracing down, fives times (once for thumb and each finger). It's perfect. She loves helping her little brother with this, too.

I used to walk them through circle breath where I'd trace a big circle in the air, inhaling as my hand swept up and around, and exhaling as I traced down the other side. Ujjayi breath. To help them relax before falling asleep at night.  Now I will call them to me when I can see (or hear) they need a little reset, and we'll do finger breathing together. It's magic (it works) and they like doing it with me.

How amazing it is that breath can be so transformative?!  My head gets clearer. My pulse slows. I can feel gratitude instead of blatant stress. Calm people are excellent breathers. They pause and breathe in slowly before they respond to a question or situation. My goal is to be one of them. Breathing helps me to check in, to slow down, to find intention.

I just have to stop forgetting (turkey).

The Gift of Trauma (part I)

As I read and listen to podcasts as part of learning in my quest to bloom, trauma keeps coming up.  When people talk about trauma, I've always thought about it as devastating events, like the loss of a child, being mugged or raped, being molested as a child...   

The story in my head is, I haven't suffered "trauma" in my life. I've had an easy life. I have no right to claim that trauma has affected me. That would be overly dramatic and inappropriate considering the real trauma that other people suffer.

But there's something cutting under the skin, pressing against my heart, darkening my mind...and I can only think that it's some form of trauma that I need to bring to the surface, to bring into the light, so I can banish the shame that it holds.  Something is there, and I need to allow myself to admit that it's enough to screw up my peace. It's in the way of my being fully present and practicing the things I want to practice like calm, like grace, like just being friggin' loving, when it matters most. Not when it's easy, but when it's hard, when under stress, when it's needed most.

I'd like to blame the middle-age hormone cocktail that is likely washing over me. But I'm pretty sure I have real emotional work to do that has been festering for too long, far longer than this hormonal tsunami has been on the horizon.  The deliberate look internally and the luxury of downtime (read: no job) has allowed space for real thinking. It has brought this to the fore.

Brene Brown talks about two ways that people manage hurt (emotional pain). One is Chandeliering. And the other is Stockpiling. Stockpiling affects the body. You can't keep feeding yourself hurt to contain it and expect that it won't cause toxicity in your body.  That's not what I do. I go the Chandeliering route. I think that I've got the hurt managed, but apparently I don't, so when there's a trigger, BOOM I hit the ceiling (the chandelier). Rage. Meanness. Awful awful awful. And following that? Shame.

I wrote this title thinking about another insight, from a podcast with Leann Rimes. She shared insight into how trauma connects us to others if we share it...I have forgotten the lesson there and need to go back and listen to that one again (it was amazing). So that will keep for another post.  For now, I am taking the first step and saying, yes I have experienced trauma. And I need to work it out because I'm not processing hurt the grown-up way that I want to, and I think the two things are related.

Chuck First Impressions

Maybe it's just me. But I hope not. Because I don't always set a first impression that I'm happy with. And that first experience is so obviously just a sliver of what makes me up as a person.  I am not your first impression of me. How could I be?

I find that my first impressions of people are so very often surprisingly incorrect views of how I come to know someone over time. Am I just that bad at reading people?  Maybe. But I always give folks more of a chance.

First impressions are only important when you have just one chance to win someone over. "One chance to make a first impression" gets too much credence if you ask me.  Job interviews, for example, are so fabricated and awful. But, while providing a short-term view, they're intensive. I work hard to be myself, authentically myself, so they might get a chance to see "who I am" in that first impression. But who knows what they really see. They're limited by their own filters, just as I am when I meet someone the first time.

Maya Angelou said, "When people show you who they are, believe them the first time." If you meet me the first time after a yoga class, or after a day trekking errands with two grumbly children in tow, you will have 2 different impressions of me. Guaranteed. Showing who you are is something entirely different than a first impression could ever be.

Strip Away the Shoulds

I've always said "should" is a bad word. It's like a dark shadow word that steals good intentions and baits us with guilt.  So it makes sense that I take a good hard look at the shoulds in my life right now and strip them off.

Let's take the career one. That's the biggie right now. All kinds of self-worth wrapped up in that one. Ripe with the evil of should.

...I should be making more progress on gaining paying clients
...I should spend more of my day in pursuit of marketing and sales
...There should be a clearer elevator pitch for my business
...My bank account should be less treacherous and cob-webbed

Using my training from the breakthrough thinking course I took years ago, at Gap International, I will take each one and consider the alternative mindset, one that will drive breakthrough results (not more guilt and lack of possibility).

--> I have made decent progress since starting up in August, and can count 3 paying projects, with 2 significant projects in the wings for January. Plus lots of great encouragement and some extended interest from a few other places. Not bad. Let's count success as success.

--> This one is harder, because I'm not sure I have been doing all I can to advance my business...BUT, if I state it in a breakthrough mindset, I will have already achieved my goal:  I balance my time wisely and spend at least 1.5 hours per workday (20% of my time) investing in marketing and selling my business services.

--> I am fine tuning my elevator pitch through coaching with experts and mentors. Wait, that's kind of a weenie line, since it doesn't give me the power of saying I HAVE an awesome elevator pitch. The breakthrough version would be: I have a killer elevator pitch that reflects my technical expertise and my strategic savvy.

--> My bank account is 1st World acceptable, and I don't have any debt other than a credit card. I have retirement funds, a working spouse and no right to complain. That said, I have big goals for how to provide for my family and create the lifestyle I want for us, so:  My bank account reflects a balanced lifestyle that allows me to be there for my children and pursue my personal passions while covering Montessori education and yearly trips abroad for my family.  (Gosh I LOVE that!)

Taking my damn "shoulds" and spinning them on their head to create the powerful messaging that I need is something I am taking more seriously. That was totally a great exercise and I feel better!

(now to tackle the parenting shoulds, the marriage shoulds, the family shoulds, the friendship shoulds.....)

The Art of Grace

I'm fascinated by graceful people. Gracious people. They hold the keys to ease and comfort in themselves and in the world. Watching grace in action is riveting. Inspiring.

I'm laying here with a gut full of Thanksgiving blessings and not feeling graceful AT ALL. But I can still bring to mind images of gymnasts, dancers, tennis players, actors who glide along like they're covered in smooth scales. The Ultimate Cool. Sarah Kaufman wrote this book, The Art of Grace, and I've read it twice now. She articulated the idea for me that our brain is all about movement.

We think our brain is for thinking, but it's true purpose is to help our bodies move, to run our physical systems. That's why it feel so damn good to move, to flow, to dance... Our brain is like, "Yes! Finally! I get to do what I'm meant to do and get away from this damn computer!"  And we love watching movement, fluid effortless (graceful) motion in others because our brain participates in that movement and we can imagine ourselves moving that same way. And it feels good.

Graciousness is similar; a social form of grace that makes everything flow more easily. I love this just as much (probably because I SUCK at it) and aspire to be gracious and help those around me to feel a sense of ease and flow.

It's a lovely art that I want to practice.

Habits

The stuff that gets in the way. Or the stuff that helps push me toward what my goals are. I haven't really thought about my habits.

Lately, I have a habit of going to yoga a lot.  I feel like that's a great habit. It's created amazing balance in my body, strength, and a sense of real accomplishment and capability. My body is very capable. But is this work getting in the way...? A diversion? Too much time taken for this practice?

I also have a habit of reading a lot. Again, good stuff I'm reading, learning about new concepts and gaining inspiration. But is it sabotaging my progress on the "what the hell do I do now" career front? Am I escaping into books?

When I was still a bit new in my last role, my VP stopped by and took notice of the weeble wobble on my desk. I had her there as a reminder that I might stumble, take a few hits, but I would also rise back up, resilient.  He considered my explanation, and then placed her down on the desk on her side and spun her around. She spun there, dizzyingly, and his point was made.  Lots of spinning. No forward momentum. (Note: my boss was a bit of a dick, yes, but he was extremely brilliant and quite to the point).

Am I the spinning weeble wobble? Busy busy busy all day, week after week, but not making any significant progress? What habits can I kick, and what habits do I need to develop to gain more traction toward what I want? And have I even been clear about what the hell I want in the first place?

Let's start there, for cripe sake.

I'm still here, she yelled silently

This is a lot.

Overwhelmed has a new meaning for me. It's fog and sludge. It's gray matter all smucked and swirled together. I can't seem to pull my mind through this. I'm tired.

When I was little, I loved books, being outside, using my hands, art class and music, dance class, performing in the school play... I created little books all the time, with illustrations. I was great at school. I loved swimming and pretending I was a mermaid or a dolphin. Loved puzzles, but wasn't interested in video games. Wasn't good at athletic games or games of mechanical skill like tennis or pool, but made cool things in wood shop. And I remember being terribly shy.

The books I'm reading tell me to look back at who I was before life got in the way. My purpose is in there somewhere. But what I find my flow in is stuff that I don't believe I can make a life out of - make a career out of. Painting for example; I love it! But, come on. Yoga; I love it! Books and writing; Love! How do I use what I love to turn this career detour (derailment) into something good????

I feel like I'm tumbling, powerless, in the waves. And I'm having trouble connecting outside of myself.

I'm sorry to be so distant. Please be patient with me.

Gettin' on my Gratitude

Yes, this is on trend (it's the week of Thanksgiving). And it's key to creating peace and love.

I had started (another) gratitude journal a while back. My lovely friend Beth suggested it as part of a daily meditation out of Harvard, including actual meditation, exercise, random acts of kindness and journaling on gratitude. I think that might have been the 5th time I'd started a gratitude journal... I don't seem to stick with it. I'm good for a few days, maybe even a couple weeks, and then I forget to be thankful.  At least in my book.

But driving down the road I find myself deliberately thinking how amazing it is to live in this town, our neighborhood, with my incredible little family, and and and -- those thoughts light me up. They're easy to conjure up, I just have to be mindful. In the car, driving, it seems to come naturally. It's all the other times, when I'm pinging around like a pinball, that I do not practice this. And practice makes better. Builds a strong habit.

I love that there is a day dedicated to giving thanks. When we fill up with gratitude, we fill with peace. Contentment. A moment of no-fuss. When we fill up with gratitude, we experience love in the most joyful sense. Gratitude is so powerful, and I take it for granted. Along with all these blessings in my daily life. Getting caught up in what I want - what is out of reach - what I'm striving for, that makes me so tired these days. I think this week, filling up (gorging) on gratitude (peace! love!) is great medicine. And might even help foster a habit of gratitude that will keep me fed going forward.

[and getting full of gratitude will help me to be more giving, which is a BIG intention of mine. i'll leave that for another post.]

Careful what you're good at

I feel like this is something a wise grandparent would say, advising their youngsters on the path to fulfillment. On the lines of, "Careful what you wish for..." Like, praying for patience. Pray for patience and you won't magically become patient, what you'll get is a load of opportunities to practice patience! Darn it!

So I've been pretty good at my job. Twenty-plus years as a packaging engineer and I have a healthy resume to show for it. Had a long run at a single company that happened to be a healthcare products company. I'm one of those folks who went to college and got a specific degree and then went out into the world to get a job in that specific field.  Not that it's a limiting field, not at all. But I am hearby branded for all eternity a "packaging engineer," and anyone who looks at my resume will see me as just that.  Well, what if I want a role on the strategic marketing side? Nope. No experience there. What if I want to shift from healthcare to, say, toy packaging? Nope. My background is all healthcare. I did not create diversity in my career path.  And now I'm pigeon-holed for being good at one particular thing.

If you're the one in your family who's "good at" doing dishes, guess what? That becomes your job, right?  Or if you're the one who knows how to maintain all the yard equipment in the garage. I could go on. Some reputations we want to earn, sure. But getting stuck in a corner because we earned the reputation for being the one who always brings the snacks, who always takes the meeting notes, who always cleans up the messes...who only knows how to think about packaging engineering...that's not rewarding.  I'm busting out.

Movement and Mindfulness

Or, alternatively: Craving Activity and Seeking Silence. This is the yin yang of my days -- I really am not good at just "being." I battle a sense of depression when I can't look over my shoulder and check-box a bunch of productivity. But sometimes (like right this minute, as my 5 year old booms around the house behind me) all I want is a moment of silence, to sit and observe, or just read or take a nap (I never nap) and it's like I just need a sip of peace.

What an interesting quest - looking for balance, looking for the right mix of effort and ease. While I'm "at ease" I'm looking for effort, and while "in effort," I'm looking for ease. Pretty sure I have this all wrong.

The only place I find the two working well together is in the yoga studio, and sometimes (sometimes) in my mini-studio (my slice of heaven, mine-all-mine).

Being in a flow is an amazing thing. When I'm parenting, I know it requires a robust pre-mix of sleep, nutrition, and intention. Then I have a real shot at being the Loving, Calm and Relaxed parent I want to be. If I'm tired, it's a struggle. If I haven't eaten right, good luck. And if I forget intention and auto-pilot is on, forget about it.

In work mode, I need the kids to be away at school or I can't string 15 minutes of thought together and it's a big mess. No good for my work, and rotten for my family.

Yoga class is like prescription medicine. Permission to partake + Tangible health benefits. Unlike meds, though, I comply with this regimen willingly and with aplomb. I LOVE it. As in, CRAVE it like a recreational drug. Because it gives me both movement and mindfulness; in fact the two require each other. And after yoga I feel like a gazillion bucks.

So -- the lesson here? Being present physically (movement, breath) and mentally (intention) is the ultimate success factor for being the parent I want to be (Loving, Calm and Relaxed) and to create productive work that I want to achieve. And to be the life partner I want to be for the amazing man I share my family with.  [Post Script: Chapter 2, 3 & 4 cover the "How" -- which includes staying fit, eating well, remembering to BREATHE, and keeping my happy mantra front and center in my mind (I am Loving, Calm and Relaxed)].

Vegan not Vegan

I heard this podcast with Alicia Silverstone, the actress from that movie I never finished. I was driving along just looking for entertainment, and I was curious about what her message was, but it became obvious pretty immediately that she was not my type. No surprise.

But I kept listening, because, inertia. And, well, she started shifting my thinking about FOOD of all things. Her point behind the podcast was supposed to be about self acceptance, but her pathway to self acceptance, self worth, was through food and how it made her body feel and how the food industry affects the health of the planet.  It was eye opening. I won't go into gory details (there are many if you start researching...) but now I'm very carefully considering a pretty dramatic shift in my eating habits, and the food that I bring home and prepare for my family.  Like, vegan dramatic.

Okay, so yes, I'm at least 75% Dutch, and cheese is pretty much the foundation of my food pyramid. This is not a small change. And eggs are favorites. Butter, yes, a religion. This is a crazy idea. Vegan. I've done knocked my head on a Silverstone block.

What got me wasn't just the cruelty stuff, which I had conveniently tucked out of my mind. But the effects of these livestock industries on the land and water that we're already struggling to manage on this planet. And end of all ends, these foods aren't even good for us! They have proven negative effects on our bodies. I could relate to the symptoms she was describing. I feel pretty crappy (no pun intended) after downing a cheeseburger. And not just for an hour afterward. For like 2 days afterward. I have joint issues that I'm wondering might resolve if I could get rid of dairy. My pimply skin. Pimples at 45 years old. So not fun. And she talks about being clear headed -- man I miss that. I feel like a total fog head. My friend Ellen shared her fog head story about dairy - and even mood swings! Because the stuff we shove into our bodies every single day has an affect (!) on how we feel, think and look.  Duh!  I know this. But I didn't think about the vegan angle. And it's unfortunately making a ton of sense to me.

I'm planning to make January my vegan month. Go a whole month and see if I can feel or see a difference in my body.  I thought I had my daughter on board with me, but she tried rice milk and soy milk and is now trying to back out.  Tag is the real hurdle. I am married to the Ultimate Carnivore. I even bought him a book for Father's Day called "Meathead." He's definitely not on board. But with his health (and medication) issues, I totally think it's important to at least try. Just try and see.

So I'm testing recipes and trying new ingredients, and I'm gonna throw another vegan potluck party to get some more good ideas from folks... I think I can pull off Vegan Month the first of the year...

Fair-weather Friend?

I have a terrible history as a friend. Bad track record. I have a long list of breakups that were often rooted in my unwillingness to be an accepting and open-hearted, non-judgemental friend. I am feeling some heavy regret on this point.

I wanna be a better friend, a better human, and give others the same tolerance, patience, and simple grace that others have so generously gifted to me. I am not going to use the excuse of, "I was a dumb kid (young adult), too immature and self-centered to be a good friend." And I'm going to avoid bludgeoning myself for what I did in the past (oooh, mean stuff) that I can no longer fix -- this is about letting that old debris go so I can be better each day going forward. A little better every day is the goal.

What is it that makes some people so great at this? At being judgement-free friends? I have always had secret crushes on these people; they are so mature and calm and nurturing without losing their own balance. Huh, maybe that's it: they are able to separate themselves and see it more from a neutral point of view. Like, as in, from a place of self, non-threatened by what others are feeling or how they're acting. Just able to root into their own belonging and reach out to others to offer compassionate support. These folks don't seem diminished after they've supported (tolerated!) me -- they seem just fine. Like, no big deal, "I love you, babe, don't be so hard on yourself. You're wonderful and you're doing the best you can." They have that magical sense of self. And it feels great to be around them, to call them a friend.

I think I've often sought to crawl up inside someone and be CLOSE to them, to KNOW them and be BEST friends (I've never really had a best friend, aside from elementary school, and she didn't stick by me beyond 7th grade). That makes me far too invested in THEM and when I don't agree with their behavior or their decisions, then I get super critical and seek to "correct" them, which is a rotten thing for a friend to do. Unless you really are like a sister and can get away with tough love because you have actual unconditional love for this person. I was the opposite of unconditional. When it got too frustrating, I would blow up and that would be the end of that relationship. Nice.

So considering my thought process here, my quest to BLOOM, to find my voice, to root down so I can reach up, that journey is helping me to become more aligned within myself. To trust myself. To accept that I am okay, that I'm enough. With that, my friendships can become true investments in other people's grace and sense of self-belonging. I'm not looking for a twin. I'm looking to connect with people and share in their joy and frustration and sorrow and just be there with them. Building community.

I'm definitely a better friend today than I was 10 years ago. Lightyears better. I think it's because I've been forced to evolve -- practicing parenting and adjusting to career changes and working on my marriage -- I've done a bit of growing up. There's no fear of not being perfect. I absolutely know that perfection isn't the goal (I am humbled on a routine basis). "Practice makes better," got it. Being okay with where I am and feeling enabled to go after what I want, that's a great feeling that I'm getting a better sense of each day. I don't want to look back too much, because it's tough [I cringe at what I see]. But I think I'd been searching in the wrong places. I want to be a GREAT friend, a giving and supportive human who authentically connects with them and gives them a sense of who I really am. Because I am enough. And that is where it has to start.

The Cool Kids

Does everybody feel this way? That they're just awkward and completely uncool, getting lock-brain and saying all the wrong things at the absolute wrong time?!? How can somebody be mid-forties and still not have this figured out?!

I envy those who are so steady and relaxed and have a witty comment at the drop of a hat. A clutch moment doesn't leave them stuttering and drawing blanks on basic vocabulary. I thought age was supposed to bring that - a sense of self, of confidence and ease, of wisdom and self-fortified esteem.

Those effing cool kids, they are still all around me and I still get all junior high clunky around them.

Even my lovelies - my dear friends and their friends, whom I'm supposed to have a level of comfort around, a sense of security and familiarity. I feel so two-left-footed so very often. I'm just tired of it. Frustrated to be so out of sorts when I "should" (hate that word) be safe in my own skin and smooth in my delivery out of experience and basic tenure in this body I've occupied for 45 years. Where's my hard-earned swagger?

God, to be one of the cool ones and glide along not worrying about saying the right thing or moving in the right way.

Sthira and Sukha

Effort and Ease. Grounding down to float up. This is a concept I don't think I ever really considered until I got serious about yoga (from my teacher @rareformyoga in particular).

My life so far feels like a series of awkward and hard-won assessments. As I approach a critical point and need to make a decision, I rely on a pro-con questioning method and always seem to struggle with, "This is hard, so does it mean I'm supposed to fight harder? Or does it mean it's the wrong direction for me, so stop fighting and turn a different direction?" And that awful tar pit of indecision and hand-wringing that I put myself in makes the decision sooooo mired in over-thinking.

What if I approached it with Sthira and Sukha?

My career transition stuff is full of over-thinking. And it wakes me up at 2am on a regular basis. I am not settled. I do not have a balance of effort and ease in this process. It's all Sthira. And even though it's all going on up in my brain, it isn't mindful. Here's mindful:

Mindfulness noun:  the practice of maintaining a nonjudgemental state of heightened or complete awareness of one's thoughts, emotions, or experiences on a moment-to-moment basis

What's the opposite of mindful?

Near Antonyms of mindfulness disregard, neglect, obliviousness, unawareness

Disregard? Neglect? Yes. Of the balance needed to smoothly advance this career (this LIFE) of mine. I have been herky-jerky throwing punches and running sprints in 5,000 directions, and working "the plan" so hard that I have ZERO Sukha, no ease. And that is not sustainable, nor is it healthy or something to be proud of ("Look how HARD I'm working over here, guys!" Not.).

Soul searching for what I really want - what I want my contribution to be - is a big part of why I'm tackling this 365-day writing challenge. I'm in search of Ease to balance my Effort and feel the momentum (and joy!) of a daily rhythm, a productive tempo, and deeper personal insight.

This week, as I've been anxiously awaiting an approval on a work proposal, I will shift to Ease and softly consider what my Effort needs to be for the next round of possibility. I will work to build a plan, with intention, for the next few weeks, that will allow me some ease. A balance of Sthira to advance my plan, and Sukha to move with the right intention.

Been thinking about Abundance

My husband gets this. He is the most generous person I know. With his time, his energy, his patience, his finances, you name it.

I struggle with it. I'm like the teeter-totter of generosity. Sometimes I am so all-in that it gets a bit ridiculous. But more often, I am a bit of a Scrooge. Stingy. Counting the bits. Weighing the inputs and outputs.

Yogis will tell us that happiness comes when we shorten our wish list. Want less, happy more. Enlightenment is nothing and everything. Abundant thinking leads to abundant living. And of course, gratitude to light the path.

It's been on my mind a lot lately. The more abundantly we treat the resources we have, the more freely we will share them, I get that. But we need to act abundantly even when we see that resources are slim...that is true generosity. And it leads to richer abundance. It requires an act of faith.

Giving of myself more freely, more generously, without measuring it out, that feels like an abundant lifestyle, one that will pay dividends in joy, in connection, in peace, in love and friendship.  The mantra I've selected for myself, that I try to keep repeating to myself, I think will help me strive for this [I am loving, calm and relaxed]. If people begin to think of me the way they think about Tag - and how giving he is and how connecting he is with people - that will be a legacy I can be proud of.

Prune to Bloom

Part of the blooming process requires a clearing of the debris, the old stuff that doesn't support growth any more. To do that can be a bit tricky, because focusing on the old stuff can get me a bit stuck in the muck, so it takes a balance of clearing old debris and filling the present with new.

I love yoga for this, because every time I go into that studio I am lugging stuff that isn't serving me. Throughout the practice I am breaking it up, peeling it off, sweating it out, breathing it away. And when I leave that room, muscles warm and long and lungs expanded, mind crisp and full of optimism, I am freed up to find something new that I can carry into my day. I can't say I'm always successful, but man I sure feel great and hopeful and have a positive intention that I believe makes at least a subtle difference in my trajectory.

My goal is to deliberately bring new, positive and challenging experiences into my life -- that way it won't fill up with old stuff, robotic stuff, the default. Next year I will turn 46 years old, and I can feel my life pushing in a bit, closing a bit, and I know I can't take another 20 years to start making something bigger in my life. I want to bloom big. I want to say something important. I want to make an impact. And pruning is so important - I'm not sure I'm great at it. I think I have been comfortable in certain routines and I've closed off my options. I think the fact that I have not yet written a book, even a draft of a book, is sad evidence that I haven't been serious about doing things I feel are pushing on my heart. Time to prune off the stuff in the way of that. What's in the way?

Time to put writing on my calendar, like appointments. Time to explore ideas and inspiration for my bigger painting works that I want to do. I will structure my consulting work to be the most effective it can be. I will continue my yoga practice and decide when I will sign up for 200 hour teacher training. I will prioritize my wish list for me and my family (skiing! a trip to Europe! back to the beach! hiking another set of trails!) and lock down when and where these things will happen over the next 5 years, and what skills or resources I will need to achieve them. The stuff that doesn't support that will wither and fall away, or be obliterated with a sweep of my calendar schedule. Boom, I'm gonna bloom.

A Gallery of Friends

Tonight was a personal breakthrough for me. An arrival at a milestone. Months of work, creative work, using my hands, very personal emotional work, was put on display. A mini portrait showcase, like a gallery opening (on display for one night only !), in our home. My friends, people who have been so amazingly supportive, did sittings for me and got to see, for the first time tonight, the result.

I didn't want to disappointment them. But the risk was low because they are so full of affection for me. They were going to be cheerleaders no matter what. And yet...I was a bundle of nerves all day as I prepped for this event. And when the clock struck five I was a sweating mess of nervousness. I was exposed, vulnerable, and putting my creative work up in front of people - in a spotlight. Look at me! Look at what I made! Holy Moses it was terrifying.

And now it's done, and all the months of effort are finished, and my portraits of my lovely friends have scattered off to their new homes.  I hope they continue to feel my gratitude when they look at their portraits. Because my favorite part of this process has been seeing them all together, all lined up in a row, a gallery of friends whom I've spent hours studying and doing my best to capture.  The next work I do won't have the same collective energy...it will require new energy, a new intention. But I'm not sure where that will take me yet. So for tonight, as I ease my way out of this super exciting and self-indulgent event, I will just enjoy the privilege I had of painting this amazing group of beautiful humans.

My Best Crow

At the yoga studio I call home, we are often encouraged to dedicate our yoga practice to someone we appreciate, someone who supports us and helps us in our quest to become our best selves.  Yesterday while we were practicing crow, Shannon (one of my FAVORITES) asked us to dedicate our crow to an individual who builds us up.  My crow was dedicated 1,000% to Tag.  And it was the best damn crow I have ever done.

As I connected to and felt his love and his humility, his generosity and his faith, I was able to lift into the most solid, most steady and light-as-air crow I have ever done. And I lifted back into Chaturanga like I was bouncing on a trampoline, light as a panther. Such is the power of great love and gratitude.

This man, Tag, has seen me at my ugliest worst. Many times. Shamefully, I can recall several recent moments where I lashed out, I spit my anger, I cut low... Yet this man remains dedicated to me and our family. He sees beyond my dark shadow and helps me believe in the light that he sees. I lost my job just over a year ago, and he has not for a moment worried that I wouldn't figure it out. He saw me struggle and cry and even despair, but at every turn he would say, "Hey, here's an idea for you," or, "I'm gonna get these wall easels for you and create a painting space for you," or "I could totally see you doing that; you need to consider this opportunity," stretching me and laying out possibility in front of me, even as I nastily retort, "I can't do that," "That's not my expertise," "I'm no good at that."

I look back at the past several months and am humbled by the gifts, the giving, of my husband.

Reprogramming

I have some beliefs about myself that I really want to disrupt. Total makeover. There are several, so I'm probably going to have to choose and focus and knock them down one at a time... A therapist isn't a bad idea, actually. Maybe that would expedite things.

So what are they:
1. I have nothing interesting to say
2. I am impatient, quick to anger, and set a poor example for my children
3. I don't have any original ideas
4. I am socially awkward (super uncool) and often say the wrong thing

Okay, I think that's enough for now (ugh. yuck.)

If I flip those around, and set an intention for how I want to be:

1. I am thoughtful and have opinions that matter
2. I am loving, calm and relaxed
3. I am full of ideas and trust my inner voice to articulate them
4. I am comfortable in my skin and belong to myself, therefore I belong anywhere and everywhere

Man, that sounds amazing. I want to be that person.

Where to start?  I think anger management is a top priority for me, because my children are young and (hopefully) still malleable enough that I can give them a better example of how an adult can behave.  So that is definitely a focus. So: I am loving, calm and relaxed. I practice breathing through frustration and have a broader perspective that allows me to see different sides of a situation, diffusing anger in myself and allowing me to float above the issue -- not letting it run my brain off down Crazy Town's parkway.  That is my focus for today, and I'm going to put that message on my bathroom mirror right now.

Let Them Be *Kind*

The joy of my children is so paramount for me. I totally understand why parents at the playground, or the science museum, or the art studio, feel compelled to rant happy praise at their children when they witness their littles doing something wonderful. Their intention is to share in a joyous moment - to foster the behavior - to heap fertilizer on the tender shoot and make it grow big and sturdy.

But all they're really doing is smothering it.

Drowning it.

Stealing the moment. Making it their own. Judging it. Making it about them, instead of letting the child own the moment; without judgement, without comment, without "help."

I want my children to be compassionate too. To be good citizens. To brim with self esteem. To share. To experiment. To risk something. To make something. To consider their progress and make adjustments based on their own sense of where they want to go. To be mindful.

And it's really hard not to be the cheerleader, hollering, "Great job!" or "Nice sharing!" or "Gosh that is a beautiful painting you made!" because on the inside, when I witness these things, that is what my heart is saying.  But I don't, because my mind reminds me that I can appreciate their progress without casting judgement on it. Good or bad. Allowing them to enjoy the harmony they created on the playground when they let that other kid have the swing. Giving them space to struggle through building the catenary arch, watching their face light up as they finally succeed. Asking them questions about the artwork they're finishing up, hearing whether they're happy with the colors they chose or the way the composition turned out.

Letting them be is hard. There's this online video of a baby on her belly, on a blanket on the floor. She's eyeing this toy that's out of reach. And she's working really hard with her whole body to try and figure out how to reach that toy. She can't crawl yet. And it's a really long video. As a parent, our instinct is to help; watching this video, you feel anxious to reach out and push that toy close enough for her to grab it. But when you watch it the whole way through, you realize how incredible this sequence is. She is learning to move her body; she never gives up or loses focus on what she wants. She believes she can do it. And, by God, she does manage to wiggle her way and stretch her arm and her fingers and ultimately grab the toy. What an incredible lesson. Letting her achieve that, imagine what she will continue to work toward and understand about her own ability?! [It was silent, by the way, when she finally grabbed that toy. She didn't need cheering from anyone; she reveled in her own accomplishment. That was enough.]

It's okay to let them be *kind* or *creative* or *persistent* or *fill in the blank.* It's their moment. If they're not asking for commentary or judgement, don't give it. They don't need it. And we might just kill the spark of something really cool that's brewing if we make it about us and how we feel about what they just accomplished. Just let them be...

Political Commentator

Election day today. In the midst of a mercurial political season. Nationalism and dehumanizing aside, I find myself empathetic for both sides of this battle. I know incredibly brilliant and compassionate people on both the right and the left, and yes I am the muddy middle, always struggling, it seems, to sift my way through the issues and find my own ground.

I envy the totality and certainty of their opinions - but I wince at the way they throw them at each other. The lessons of the school yard, where the first push is followed by the second in return, and so on until there's a bloody mess and everybody has to take sides, these lessons are forgotten. The trenches go deeper as they undercut each other's value. Nobody is listening. Do they think they are teaching each other? Do they think they are winning the debate and convincing the other side? Why are they so shocked that there is this divide?

I love how Brené Brown addresses this - when I heard her talking about it I was like, "YES!! Yes, if only we could all hold this closer!" She asks for us all to just try and be more curious. Curiosity is vulnerability, and yes, that takes courage, but it is an opener of the mind. And the mind leads our actions. There is possibility in that, to have a conversation, to ask questions that seek understanding, to find common ground. Then real work can be done, real forward progress. She reminds us we can't come across all high-and-mighty and be heard. We have to be authentic, and assertive, when calling out something that we know isn't right.  But we don't have to be judgmental or hateful.

There is a niche group of people, both in the US and in the broader world, who feel threatened and cheated and powerless. And they are mad. Royally pissed. Do you think shoving them in the school yard is going to "fix them" and show them how to be happy as part of this melting pot society? It's just making it worse. So much worse. It gives them further evidence of their personal truth. So they will fight back, harder, and more violently.  Terrifying, this spiral that we're witnessing (and fueling).

Coddle them? No. Excuse their discrimination? No. But find ways to understand their weak position, the root of their hate, and diffuse it? Yes. This is what all our passion and focus and energy has to focus on. Demonizing them isn't taking the higher ground. It's throwing gasoline on the fire. I want to see articles on how we can diffuse this hate. Actively.

All of this weighs heavily on me today, as I prep to go cast my vote. My single point of light that I get to contribute.

New Assignment

I love this. Not just because it makes me feel smart to quote Faulkner (is this truly a real quote from him, by the way?) but because it completely makes sense to me, as someone who doesn't like to talk about it - I like (NEED) to take action. I saw it after I attended Carmelo Blandino's incredible painting workshop this past April. Carmelo doesn't coach painting technique so much as a "being philosophy." And painting is far more interesting than trying to "be a painter." Just PAINT. Put paint on your brush, lots of paint, and get in the flow. Get outta your head. Feel. Don't think.  This is what I have been learning all year, with my yoga and with Carmelo's voice in my head, and with the reading I've been doing. I'm too much in my damn head.

But the other side of that, the evil shadow of that, is really bothering me too. If I just FEEL then I am not really my best self. Not the version of myself I want to be. I have some ugly programming that makes me a meany. Short tempered with my children and a jerk to my life partner. So just rolling around in my feelings isn't going to cut it. I need to set intention. Like a big Texas-sized Neon Road Sign: Intention.

I gave myself a challenge after Carmelo's workshop, to paint 10 portraits by September. 10 in-person portraits on a 30 minute time allowance, to force my practice of putting paint on a canvas and hunting for the shadows and just painting. And to force myself to do a hard thing. Now, Tag is prepping 14 frames for the 14 portraits I've done that we will showcase in a mini "gallery opening" in our basement this coming weekend. For the 14 amazing people who were willing to come sit for me in my mini-studio.  So -- as we prep for that -- I can't help thinking, "What now?!?" I need a new project. Must have a new project. I have soooo muuuuch work to do on myself, what should I task myself with as my next challenge in this quest to BLOOM in 2018.

I've decided to take on a writing challenge.

Bloggers like Seth say, "Write every day for 1,000 days."  Because, he adds, the first 1,000 days are the hardest. So, how about....365 days? Let's start there? Like, next year when I look back, and I can say I wrote every day for an entire year, that should push me forward I think. 1,000 days is like almost 3 years. I think even a month would be a stretch for me - but that doesn't give me the Bandha feeling that I think I need to pull off 365 days. I want to feel full-on Maha Bandha for this one.

So this is my assignment: Write in this Blog, this Bloom Quest, every day for the next 365 days, exploring the topics that eat away at my mind and my intention, and see if I can't evolve in a forward direction by this time next year. November 5th 2019.  Here we go...