Breakthrough

Today was a tough yoga class. For whatever reason Shannon was intent on pushing our limits more than normal - I had to really work to get through it. She was creating an opportunity for breakthrough for each of us. And we did the routine twice on each side - so the second time around we knew what was coming.

Staring down something challenging - something that might even be a little scary - creates the chance for courage and that creates the chance for growth. Doing that thing that I am scared of - pursing my art more significantly for example. That's scary because I am afraid to confirm my fear that I have nothing to say, that my work isn't actually any good.

I thought I was afraid of owning my own business -- and certainly, I'm afraid that consulting will be a series of failures -- but I don't think it's fear getting in the way there. I think I just want other things besides a start-up business. I think I just dont want to throw myself into a business that takes 110% of me when I want to keep enjoying my flexible schedule with my kids. When I want to keep practicing painting. Yoga. Walking my dogs when I feel like it. This freedom that I now have that I am desperate to maintain. I am afraid of losing this freedom. I need my consulting business to do well so I can keep this freedom-filled lifestyle going.

So - I will continue to forge ahead with my new marketing plan. I will work to put myself out there and work to win new business. I will enjoy this amazing summer I have ahead of me with my littles, and look to earn new projects come the fall. I will seek a breakthrough in my lifestyle - one that pushes me out of my comfort zone to bid on projects that stretch my ability and my confidence.

Pretty Pretty Pretty

[no, this is not my house.] [but so pretty, right?]

With extra time on my hands - and plenty of flexibility to spend that time how I want - I have been loving the chance to "fix up" parts of the house that needed some TLC. I love looking around and seeing art on the walls, pillows on the nice couch, pops of color where before it was just bland. It feels good. I would love to be expert at this and do it for a living. Just call me a Joanna Gains wanna-be.

But I notice how calming our house is now. It looks happy, organized, pretty. And I really love a pretty house.

What comes up quite a lot lately is the need to observe myself and my patterns. To figure out where you want to go, you have to figure out where you are. And that's part of the work that I'm doing on myself. What the hell do I want? Well - I gotta look at the stuff that makes me happy. And this stuff makes me happy.

I've always loved "primping" a space to make it feel fresh and pretty. Even as a child, I felt very grown-up (always the goal) when I could dress my bed up like a day bed, and organize my dresser with a display of my favorite tchotchkes (there were many). I had little plants even. What has always been missing is the massive budget that I think it takes to decorate a space properly. Those addictive decorating shows on TV make it seem so easy - they have access to crazy funding. These pillows that I fell in love with from Coyuchi, for example, they EACH cost $250. That is so not happening (well, thank God for DIY and my mom, because she made them for $20 each).

I'd like to figure out how designers do that. I guess they just find rich clients (?) but it seems to me that the budgets they work with on those darn TV shows would no way cover the furniture and all that construction work. It's a mystery. I'm intrigued...

Lifting UP

How amazing is it when you bring intention to something and it just goes? Exactly as you wanted it to. How much of our life is brought on by our own thinking? This mind that is so busy busy busy interpreting everything from this single perspective that we auto-pilot our life with.

I've been exploring this with my yoga practice and my running (okay, jogging. okay, slow plodding). I can bring so much heaviness if I let myself; trying to flow like water can feel heavy; rooting into the earth to steady myself and lock my core is super heavy. I can turn on the fire, especially with good, butt-kicking music. And I can explore what air brings - lightness - and that seems to be the most powerful. Ironically, really. The lighter I can make myself, the stronger I seem to become. The longer I can hold the pose. The taller I can be in the pose, reaching my fingers higher and higher. The farther I can run; farther than I believed possible. Lightness. Not brute strength. Not rooting down; the only purpose in rooting to the ground is to push against it for lightness. Air. Lift. Openness. Awesomeness.

How much better are those moments with my kids when I can lighten up? (!) Stop being so stubbornly serious like I have to make a point. The only "point" I'm making is that I'm not compassionate or understanding or sensitive to their point of view. And with my kids it seems like softness combined with lightness is the ultimate combo. Loving. Uplifting.

I want to think about this visually when I consider abundance. Not like an airy gaseous vapor that dissipates and dilutes into the air. But an expansive light - a halo of light - a blooming of energy.

Everything is possible when I lift up -- up and out of the stuff that doesn't serve me.

Abundant patience for myself

Why the hurry?
Trial and error sucks, really. I'd rather come out of the gate flying high and nailing the hurdles one after the other. This seems like the approach I've taken most of my life -- to fling myself into a project and not give myself the time or practice for mastery. No patience for the journey. And the end result shows it -- it's messy, sloppy, half-assed. Not that I didn't give it my all, I just didn't have the skills to do it expertly. So it comes out very amateurish.

Not attractive. Or something that I feel very proud of.

So -- Patience -- this is a practice.

I have been "out of a job" since October of 2017. That is 19 months. Holy shit. This is the source of my terror -- that I am unwanted and do not offer value. And it makes me wonder, this lifelong flinging into efforts to see what sticks, not really perfecting or excelling at anything in particular - is this the result? I can smooth-talk my way out of that and show results and experience on a resume that might sound impressive to you, but this is really the core of the issue isn't it? What have I really built mastery around in all my years in industry?

So these last months have been a roller coaster of beating myself up and dusting myself off over and over again. I have been impatient with myself.  And if ABUNDANCE is my word for this year, what does that look like when I can bring abundant thinking into my heart for myself? I think it looks a lot less pathetic. My better half said to me the other day, as I fell apart (again), "Enough of this pity party."

Here we go
I am going to master the following things -- with patient and diligent practice. And patience for the process, not expecting to be a pro at these but expecting that I will get better and better as I apply myself. I want to be great at these things. I am not washed up or out of time. I have today, right now, and, God willing, many days after.

1) Yoga -- I am taking teacher training this summer to help me achieve this, and keeping it as a consistent practice. I love that I have been doing this now for almost 4 years. By the time I'm 50 I will feel pretty darn masterful.

2) Painting -- I am going to continue giving myself assignments to paint, trying different techniques and subjects, with the goal of creating flow in my work. Within the next 2 years I will apply to McGuffey so that I can be around professional artists and heighten my inspiration. I will give myself time to create studies that allow me to approach the final canvas with insight. By the time I'm 50 I will be selling my work.

3) Consulting -- I am reworking my website to speak to the things I most love doing; I will become an expert at these things for my clients. I will have my work and time for my family life, which is the ultimate win. I will be asked to speak at events, and will write articles for industry journals, speaking as a unique voice for technical creativity. By the time I'm 50 I will be turning down work because I will be busy enough and earning enough to maintain the life balance I love.

Boom !!  Now that's a better way of thinking.

Self Loathing

How pathetic! Yet, here I am.

I've been thinking a lot about how much I rely on external sources for affirmation. I have always been a huge empathic person, and exquisitely (painfully) aware of the moods and movements of those around me and how I might be affecting them (causing something). And I really (really!!!) want to develop enough self-esteem that I can sit comfortably with myself and within myself to just BE myself. And be chill with that. That is my goal. My mission.

And YET.

How can we not rely on external value confirmation when it comes to our careers? I mean, if you have a job with a company that values you, it means you have some stability and opportunity. Right? But if you're me, and you're not supposed to feel down that you are still (STILL) "between jobs" how do you measure your value? Your contribution? I have not been offered a job. I have applied. I have even interviewed. And I have NOT. BEEN. OFFERED. ANY. JOB. None!!  Not ONE!  Rejected! I am not valued by these potential employers!  Why ?????

I start picking apart all the conversations and relationships that I've had. I start seeing myself through "their eyes" and seeing how uninteresting I am. How little I brought to the table. How poorly I contributed.

And now I find myself wandering aimlessly. Not really interested in anything. Not enough to hunt it down and make it mine. Hard to get my brain engaged in anything at all. Like I've lost steam. Been gutted somehow. Empty. Tired.

Pathetic.

I love a rainy day

Rainy, gloomy, cold, windy. It's winter and this weather matches my frame of mind. I've noticed lately that when the weather shifts and we get an unseasonable day that brings sun and a warm breeze that I feel a little panicky. What a crazy response. But when I dissect it and try to understand the response, I think it's all about this purgatory I'm in, between being successfully engaged and a disappointing deadbeat.  A rainy day doesn't put pressure on me to be happy, to have my long list of "shoulds" done. It temps me to lay on the couch all day and watch a decorating show (which I never do frankly because, guilt).

There's also a positive side to rainy or snowy stay-inside days. Like the stillness that comes with them. The comfort of holing up inside a warm, safe house. It's like being incubated. No need to venture into the twisty, sharp-edged, vivid world. Just stay inside. Stay in your soft clothes. Comfy cozy.

Yep. And lame.

Fine if I've had an amazingly productive week. A respite inside a cozy day is great then. But I'm in a weird transitional place where I don't quite know which direction to launch in. And a stay-inside day only helps me hide from the feeling that I lack progress.

My better half says I'm being too hard on myself. Because he's loving and kind and he wants to see me be successful. I am not great at being patient, with myself or anything else, so while his words are a tempting siren song...they don't do the job of completely letting myself off the hook. There's always a bit of expectation in the encouragement, and that's what I wire into.  "ZAP!" Get over it. "ZAP!" You're fine. "ZAP!" You are going to do amazing things. "ZAP!" OMG I am failing because I'm not moving forward fast enough!!!!!

Today is cold. Snowy rainy stuff falling from the gray sky. And here I sit in a Panera (free wifi) working on my client project, feeling like a gloomy failure-to-fully-launch, and trying trying trying to scratch and claw my way out of purgatory.

If I wanna be a writer, how come I'm not writing?

My knuckle is healing. Finally. I can now type with both hands and all 10 of my digits fairly well.

Being in a cast put a huge damper on my interest in writing. And writing with a pen on paper, which used to be my favorite thing and I could easily do because I'm left handed, is just too slow and sloppy and far too easy to cheat on.

Now I'm out of excuses to write (type) and I'm finding that I have to force myself to do it.

When I drive around in my vehicle (which is my preferred place to think - I guess because it's both passive and active, so I can focus and yet not be stagnant) and I think about what I want to do with this next phase of my life, I keep coming back to writing. Being an author. A real one. So I'm edging closer and closer to this idea of creating something written. Something real. A book.

Why is this so difficult? If I want it so bad, why am I putting it off with every available excuse?

Writing offers me all the things I want: flexibility and freedom, a creative outlet, and use of my talent. It might actually offer me a source of income too, if in fact I can count on writing being a talent.

1,000 words is a ton of words. I checked it out. Writing assignments are really what I need. Like, on a set schedule. And getting up early to write might be the best option for me...less distractions and a nice healthy dose of pressure to get the words down before the littles rouse for breakfast. Plus I'm pretty clear headed in the morning.

So instead of writing about writing, I will write. Present tense. I am writing a book. Piece by 1,000 word piece.

Be Sweet

I've been leaning pretty hard on my mantra these past few days. Repeating it to myself between clenched teeth, searching for my breath, trying to get back into the present where it's all good.

Even with a great plan in place, I still struggle. Example just today: All afternoon I worked to prepare a valentine cake, a pot of bolognese, homemade pasta, all as a labor of love for my three amazing valentines. But as I put the finishing touches on and scrambled to put it all on the table, I found myself short on patience, quick to judgement. Raining on my own parade that was meant to celebrate my lovelies.

All I want to be is sweet. Why is that so hard for me?

Buying Time

It occurs to me that the project work I'm doing right now feels more like a way to extend my current lifestyle (which is, honestly, a refreshingly casual one), rather than a path to financial stability. It fills the large gaps. You could say it's enabling me to remain in career limbo.

The odd thing is, I think I'm okay with that. At least while the gaps are filling. Being financially strapped is NOT the plan I had for my mid-career self. In fact, I was thinking I had momentum. I was feeling my oats and really believing that I was an up-and-comer. So if/when the gap gets bigger, and I'm not seeing a magical way to fill it, there's gonna be a problem.

The thing I really know about myself right now is that I love being here, home, around my kids, watering my plants, feeding my dogs, all that. If I could have this and send my kids back to their school and know that this is my new norm, I would be content. At least for now. While I sort out what my next Big Thing is.

Release

This week of 40 Days is focused on Tapas. This is the heat you build that melts away resistance. The idea is that Tapas helps to detox, rinse away, reset. Stripping away layers that get in the way of possibility and transformation. I can't say enough about how yoga does this for me. It's my reset. Beyond good sex, I haven't found a better release for anxiety or stress.

When I first started practicing at a studio (instead of the random class at a gym, or a dvd) I was in the most toxic work environment I have ever experienced. Whether I found yoga, or yoga found me, it became a regular commitment in my routine. I had NO IDEA what I was doing, but nobody seemed to mind (they were in their own flow, oblivious, as I now understand). And the poses were SO HARD, I was utterly exhausted, dripping sweat and feeling absolutely wrung out after every class. In Savasana I was a puddle of tears, finding total emotional release. All the toxic draining out through my pores, through my tear ducts.

Now that I am stronger (much stronger) and more confident in my practice, I keep wondering if it will get old. If the effect will wear off. But I'm going almost daily for the 40 Days program right now, and the release keeps me coming back for more.

So much of what our brain is doing gets etched into our body. The wiring. The messaging. Twisting and tightening. The physical work, deep into the muscle tissue, extended along the entire spine, this is the work that has to be done to release the mind.

And when we are released? We can feel possibility. We can transform out of old thought patterns, old behavior patterns. We can tap into our inner genius. We can truly bloom.

Vegan Cheat

I am really glad I gave myself the vegan challenge. I get it. I feel better. I like the food. And I want to stay as close to it as I can without disrupting my family's eating preferences.

I held true to the principles for most of January, until I went to Utah and had to fudge a little because I didn't want to be "that girl" who wouldn't indulge in the amazing food being offered. I mean, there isn't a real reason why I can't eat animal based food. So I ate some cheese and some meat, and interestingly I felt the effects of that. It changed my body rhythm.

Food is such a fundamental, and growing up with ample food I don't think I ever saw it as the daily medicine that it is. Put good stuff in and you have better energy, better skin, clearer thinking, a clearer conscience. Simple as that.

I'm avoiding dairy now. That's hard, but almost daily I hear about influential people who shifted their health habits and did the same thing. Our culture of food is shifting. It's good. The next thing on my list to assess is sugar. Word on the street (everywhere) is that sugar is toxic. Time to try eliminating that and seeing how that affects me...

Robin Sharma says you need all of these things for transformation: mindset, heartset, soulset, and healthset. I'm truly working on all four, and while I may cheat, I am doing pretty well on nutrition considering the rotten place I started from (uhm, McDonald's #2 meal anyone??? So Bad!).

Meditation Makes Me Cry

I love podcasts lately. The creative thought leaders inspire me,  and the one I listened to today was no exception. He (Robin Sharma) shared that it is FACT: each and every single one of us has GENIUS inside. Most of us just let STUFF get in the way of it, especially today with all the handheld digital distractions peppering our mind with intermittent focus all day long. Genius requires reflection. Isolation even. It was suggested to cordon ourselves away for 4 hours each day to cultivate our focus and help our genius emerge. I was very excited by this notion and even started visualizing a studio of my own (which shifted to dedicated time at the library, a more practical solution for the time being).

So my pump was already primed when I headed to the 40 Days meeting. We went around the room and shared experiences from Week 3, and there was healthy discussion about meditation. Most of us struggle with it, and think we're probably doing it wrong. Which was debunked by the facilitator, who encouraged us to be less judgmental about it, just relax into it. When she led us in a guided meditation, part of the regular weekly meeting format, I had my mind open to just accepting the thoughts that came, and letting them go. And for whatever reason, I started weeping. Like, made the whole front of my shirt wet weeping.

Now, you tell me what that's about. What is going on in my head to make me crumble at the very small effort of being with my thoughts, being with my breath? I have been avoiding this part of the program. Maybe deliberately. Maybe there's a scary bridge to cross here.

That quote by Rumi: "You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens." This process of learning and growing, stretching, getting stronger, it isn't like a spa experience. Unless it's like a bootcamp kind of spa-weight-loss thing. This is supposed to be uncomfortable. This is work.

Shit. I really gotta meditate, huh?

Work makes Reward

Sitting around just feels like sitting around, unless you've worked hard and you're enjoying a well-earned break. Then it feels like awesome. Like an oasis of rest. Like peace.

Savasana feels like an arrival when I've worked through a tough yoga practice session. I enjoy the rest. I relax into it. I simply lie there and breathe.

Savasana without Asana practice? Can't do it. Not peaceful. I feel anxious, like I need to be doing something. Same with meditation. I never tried that, actually - maybe I should try meditating after just wrapping up a productive (preferably physical) round of effort.

In this still-new chapter of my life, now that I don't have structure dictated to me beyond the school bus schedule, I'm not always chasing things and cramming things into the spare free moments that a corporate career allows for. I make my own structure, yes, but it isn't nearly as demanding right now. And that makes weekends tough lately...because I haven't earned the right to a lazy day. A don't bother to leave the house day.

I need to impose more rigor on my days, so that I make better use of the downtime available to me. I am wasting time. Both productive time, which I need to demand more of, and downtime, which needs to be precious and restorative. I use my downtime far better when it's "earned," having more intention and energy to play with my littles, having creativity for projects and planning things.

Purgatory isn't restful. It isn't rewarding. It doesn't inspire deeper relationships or the building of new ideas. It's just On Hold. And I need to make sure I'm not spending any time here.

Anti-Aging

There is no such thing.

Aging is inevitable. How strange to process the idea that life isn't infinitely sprawled out in front of us. I can sense the path traveled now, and I can sense the finality of the path. I've gone far enough in life to now appreciate that. How strange it is...

A dear friend invited me over for a glass of wine this evening, and she shared with me an interesting question that she asks herself, "What age would I be if I woke up and was the age that I feel?" She asked if I feel 45. I do in the sense of how far I've come, and how tangible life's limit seems to be now. In my body I do, which is cool because I feel that I've finally (in the last 3 years or so) discovered how to access my body, to live in my body, more than I could when I was younger and spent all my time in my head.

But emotionally, mentally? I feel like a gawky, immature, self-conscious twenty-something. My brain is definitely not what I imagined a 45 year old would wield, wise and confident, bold and sharp-witted, worldly and elegant. I'm still a dundering child under this skull most of the time.

My plan is to age, as they say, with grace. To stay fit and get more playful. To be of service and put myself out there, self-consciously or otherwise. To explore my eccentricities and embrace them.

I will be pro-aging, pro-growth, pro-adventure and mystery, and pro-FUN.

Being Available...

My sweet little woke me up at 6 AM, asked for a bucket, and promptly emptied the contents of his poor stomach into it.

In another, earlier version of my life, I would be rushing out the door to make a meeting at the office, juggling instructions to the caregiver (au pair) and feeling rotten that my baby feels rotten and just wants his mamma. Today, I got to caress his forehead, hold the bucket, wipe his face with a cool washcloth, and check on him throughout the morning.

What a privilege that is.

I am in such a battle with myself about being busy enough, being productive enough, earning enough and securing enough future earnings. But part of why I'm here, right now, in THIS spot, is because my family needs me to be available. It's a gift.

I struggle to balance the accelerator of go-go-go against the slower, dragging pace of be-be-be. Sooooo much "should" at work here. The ugly "S" word.

Today the should was small. I heard it. I felt it. I put in a few hours of project work in answer to it. But should didn't rule my day. Today I was grateful that I could be available for my littlest one. He needed me. I needed to be the one he needed.

What would my life look like with this continuous flexibility of being here when I'm wanted or needed? Envisioning that is a powerful exercise. It's me, having a creative outlet to build something, create something (THE BOOK) and turn that into a means to help support my family (yeeeees, I know you're not supposed to create something for money or it kills the purpose, but I have strong enough purpose behind my idea that it will hold up, and I need my dream to be full of abundance thank you very much). I love the vision of coffee with my hubby in the kitchen or on the deck each morning, my office space rich with inspiration, ours dogs sleeping by my feet, me pouring myself into the keyboard, and my littles coming up to hug me hello after they get home from bus stop.

PER-FEC-TION.

Giving myself credit

Rachel Hollis has her conference attendees create a letter to themselves, from the perspective of their persistence, to shed light on just how accomplished each of them is.

Because we forget to acknowledge that. We're too busy telling ourselves about all the stuff we haven't done, all the things that we are NOT. We loose sight of how awesome we ARE.

Some of this questing has given me time to reflect on what I've accomplished. And that has been refreshing. So much of my identity was, for so long, wrapped up in being a successful career woman, that when I got laid off it imploded so much of my sense of worth that I've had to rebuild my image of  myself. I am rebuilding the image I have of myself.

Sure there's a ton of work to do. Sure I have a list a gazillion miles long of the ways I want to better myself. But I am not starting at zero. There's some good gritty stuff under this belt, and remembering that should only serve to fuel my confidence that I can achieve so much more - that I can decide and then I can do.

I am becoming, in more ways today than I have for a very very long time. Because of this awareness and this hunger to learn more and achieve something that I will be proud to look back on at the end of my life. AND - I can stand where I am right now and say, "Hey. You paid your way through college. You left a unique mark on the healthcare industry. You battled through tough family evolutions. You didn't give up on a dream and gave birth to beautiful babies. You can do a frigging headstand in yoga. You are badass. Keep on girl."

Right Here. Right Now.

Where'd I get this idea that stability and security is a thing? That I should freak out because I don't have the next 6 months all planned out with confirmed, guaranteed project income?

Responsibility, I get. Yeah, you can't just wing it and expect your family to have a smooth go of things. I'm not talking about adulting. I'm talking about being present, right here, right now.  At the dinner table. In the grocery line. On the sidewalk chatting with neighbors. Lying in bed next to my spouse. This is life and there is no cliche guarantee of anything except that we get one shot.

As a child I was always leaning into the future, desperate for more freedom and access to privileges. Always in a hurry to grow up. Always seeing a future that was better. Did that become a habit? When is it okay to stop leaning and just stand?

Right now. That's when.

Getting Unstuck

I almost didn't go.

I cancelled out of the class actually, and then 20 minutes before it was scheduled to start I tore around the house trying to get ready fast enough (damn cast) and showed up just as class was starting and had to hunt for an open space.

I almost didn't go, because I was so pissed and sad and uncertain about my injury. But then I decided, "Now or never," and threw myself into the studio. And I'm so glad I did.

Shannon had an amazing class that I could actually do most of, and the message she decided to share was about getting stuck. Getting stuck and taking a moment, before freaking out and maybe getting MORE stuck, to think about what might really be needed. Like maybe a slower speed, or spinning the wheels a bit to gain deeper traction, or a change in direction, or maybe even a little rocking back and forth to gain some forward momentum.

Somehow, having an injury peeled back my coolness, my take-for-grantedness, my closed-up-mindedness, and made me hear the message in it's raw, pulsating form. Yes. I have been stuck. So stuck in the muck and tired of spinning and not sure which direction to go but sitting still scares me to death so I keep whirling around, clawing at mud, desperate to find higher ground...and I needed to hear that it's okay to pause. To consider. That spinning wheels might not be the right thing. Maybe there's a different way forward.

So breathe. Cry. Consider. Let go. See the horizon and give it a bit. Let the dust settle. Maybe the path forward is just clouded by all the ruckus.

Putting in the work

Passive pursuit doesn't cut it. And I'm a bit lazy these days.

I think I'm waiting for something to shine down from the heavens and lay out a perfect pathway that I can simply step onto. I don't have a strong compulsion for anything in particular, beyond yoga. And I envy those who have "made it" and live cush lives in lovely homes with exciting travel agendas.

I'm like the worst kind of envious. Because I don't have any drive to chase down a dream, which is how those folks "made it." They worked their asses off. I sit here and long for ease and luxury. For vibrant purpose. I wait for my dream to emerge.

Maybe I'm not lazy. Maybe I'm just lost. I jumped on a track all those years ago because it "appeared" and it occupied me for two decades...but it didn't light me up and now I'm tired and a little disenchanted.

Okay a lot disenchanted.

How do I find my joy???? I don't want to waste this life! Where do I start digging? Gimme a shovel and I'll get after it. I am ready to put in the work -- I just need to find the pursuit that lights the fire in my belly.

Back in the saddle

Okay. Regroup. I am not a quitter. This is a setback, but it isn't a time out.

I need yoga to maintain clarity. To get out of the swirling in my head and remember how to be in my body and breath. And to help me on this frigging quest.

So I will do yoga, even with this cast, even without the ability to bend my wrist; I will work the poses I can get into and keep my strength up and before long I will be back in action.

No more pity party. There are so many (so many!) ways that I can see this as no big deal. My knuckle will heal. It will work just fine. The empathy I'm building for people with permanent disabilities will stay with me. And the use of my hands, my arms, will mean that much more to me.

Tomorrow is the 40 Days meeting. I am going. And I will release this anger and figure out how to move, and move forward.