Moving Into Fear (or Basic Buddhism for Skiers) March 24, 2012

Skiing has taught me one thing with certainty – resistance only increases the chance of receiving the opposite outcome than I intended.

For those of you unenlightened non-skiing people, here is a brief ski lesson: the front end (tip)  is the steering end, the back-end (tail) acts as a gas pedal.  Regardless of my young friends tendencies to straight-line it, skiing is about making turns to get downhill.  In order to make move or make the ski turn we must pressure the front end by shifting our weight forward – and thus, downhill.

This seems easy in writing, but when faced with a steep slope (whatever that means to us personally), the intuitive response is not to lean forward, but sit back in avoidance and concern for our safety.  As we resist the downward velocity of the slope, we increase speed (weight on tails) while losing steering ability (lack of weight on tips).  When we feel it is becoming more difficult to “stay in control”, we resist further, losing the momentum that carries us from turn to turn and so we increase unnecessary movements with our bodies. Resisting  the inevitable (we choose this downhill sport!) we work twice as hard, use more muscle, and have less fun to get down the hill  than if we had simply trusted our ability to make each necessary turn.

In our fear, justified or not, we completely lose connection to flow.  As we humans are uncomfortable with a loss of control, we tend to do one of two things: give up, determining that it is not right for us or, we continue to flail our way downhill, determined to “do this” no matter what, using extra energy in the process, risking injury and losing all sense of enjoyment.  We blame our difficulties on the conditions (too icy/not the right time) , circumstances (there was a snowboarder in the way/I didn’t have enough money) ,  or random half truths (my feet hurt/she was a bitch). Really, we are resisting leaning into that which scares us but is nevertheless required to move through on our way towards our goals.

And what are we afraid of? Failure. Risk. Getting hurt. Looking stupid. Going out of our comfort zone. Losing control.  The list goes on.

As if these were all things we have dominion over in the first place.

Life is scary.  Personally, I seem to attract drama like poop does flies. Poverty, unemployment, illness, stupid people; you name it. But when I was told I had cancer, the complete lack of control over that diagnosis made me stop thinking I could/should try to direct everything my life. Instead I began to learn to accept that life simply is what it is – just like the mountain.  My choice is to engage or not, and how I want to do that is up to me. My reactions to situations are often the only thing I can control. This shift in perception makes it easier stay on tip of my skis and stop resisting the flow of life. I must stop worrying about what might happen, and stay present in what is happening to move toward my goals.

Flow doesn’t mean that is always smooth, but there is a sense of direction, purpose and intention that seems right somehow. In skiing, flow is the glorious sensation of sliding through silky snow even though you occasionally still getting bounced around. Each turn follows the next with relative ease until you stop at the bottom laughing, and say to your buddies, “man, that was SWEEEEEET!”

Skiing teaches me about life on and off the hill. There was nearly a foot of relatively good snow when I went up this week to ski off a bad situation at work. I was faced with a choice that either way was likely to result in unemployment or unhappiness. I had a headache for a week over it. Unemployment is scary and it seemed stupid to draw a line about something that was relatively trivial, but my goal is living a more authentic, heart centered life in which I do not compromise on what is important to me. As I argued with myself over every angle of the situation, I could feel myself flailing, losing control, and working far too hard.  I was using up valuable energy trying to stop forward momentum,  because I was afraid to move into my fears about unemployment and what I thought it said about me.

And so I leaned forward.

It isn’t comfortable at first.

I have my moments as a great skier, but I am often freakishly forcing turn after turn by over-rotating my shoulders and hips; hopping my feet and flinging my arms around to make it happen.  I arrive at the bottom exhausted, but somewhere in each run, there is usually at least one or two linked turns where I was simply “in it” and I get back on the chair.

I often make skiing – and life – more difficult than it needs to be in my lack of trust. And that is what it is….learning to trust that by not struggling with the struggle (as my friend Carole says) you will arrive at your destination with much less effort.  Control is an illusion – what will happen, will happen, and our flailing only increases the chance of it happening badly.

Skiing is not an easy sport, and neither is life, but by committing to my intentions, I get the opportunity to experience relative effortlessness sometimes. That feeling of being in the flow, is the most glorious feeling ever. It  keeps me addicted to this ridiculously expensive sport and to life in general.

As I sit at my computer writing, now newly unemployed, I am curiously observing flow around me.  It is a bit bumpy and there is that “whoa, who….aaaah, WHOAH!” sensation I have on the hill when it feels like things are about to get dicey.  But I also have some of that sensation of floating along and I am committed to not trying to steer this from the backseat. I keep humming to myself a skiing version of Dori’s song  from “Finding Nemo”: “Just keep turning, just keep turning!!”.

I know when I get to the bottom of this run, I will jump around and say: “THAT was so friggen AWESOME!!!!  Did you see when I almost lost it and then I pulled it together and it was like……YEAH! LETS DO IT AGAIN!”

 

(this seems to be a theme with me…if it is for you too check out my posts Resistance is Futile  and I am Committed to This…I think)

Language of Love February 12, 2012

“I love you” I said as we snuggled on the couch watching movies.

The evening suddenly took on the feel of a family gathering where Jr. drops the F-bomb in front of Grandma.

We had known each other for years before we started dating and few months into our “couple-hood”  I had no doubt that what I felt was love. But instead of completing the romantic moment, Neil looked at me and said, “It is going to be a while before I can say that”.

I had no way of knowing that more than 5 years later – and having lived together for most of it – I still would not have heard those words from him.

And, what is even more surprisingly, I am mostly okay with it.

Neil has more than the normal allotment of stereotypical male communication issues. On the other hand, words are really important to me and I am definitely a communicator. I’ve always wondered why in the world he chose me – a writer who finds it easy to voice my feelings and is deeply passionate and outspoken about a million different things when he so clearly is…NOT.

Neil is very reserved and my zest for engaging life to the fullest must push his buttons in addition to our opposing communication styles. But even in that awkward conversation about love, he has never shied away from me. In fact, his whole-hearted commitment to me when I must drive him crazy, is part of how I know he feels the words he finds so difficult to utter.

So, I keep saying “I love you” and he routinely responds: “Why now?”

Even though asking “why now” is probably intimacy avoidance at its finest, it has given me a deeper understanding of my own layers of relationship and connection. I am sure Neil doesn’t intend to come across as an emotional ascetic – maybe he is learning what love is. It seems that I certainly am.

My best guy friend was thrown off when a girl he was dating said she loved him. He called me in a panic: “I don’t know what to do! It is too early! I like her a lot but I don’t know where this is going and it is too much right now”.

“I tell you I love you all the time and I have loved you for years. What is the big deal with this?” I ask.

“It is different.” He answered. But I wondered why? Was he worried that that statement of love was full of expectation? Ownership? Exclusivity? What do we mean when we tell someone “I love you”? What do I mean when I say it to Neil?

“I love you,” I say. We are playing golf, the sun is shining and there is an eagle flying overhead. My score is pretty good for once, the friends we are playing with are laughing and everything is glorious. “Why now?” Neil asks. Because we get to share this moment. We enjoy each other’s company and seek it out instead of finding it tiresome; we have common things to laugh at and do together. In our playtime I get to see us as friends, not just who we are in our relationship.

“I love you”. We are watching the finals on a TV talent show in which the performance has been breathtaking, and I look over to see a tear running down his face. “Why now?” Because he feels for these people, for their hard work, for the heart they put into what they do. He appreciates the beauty, lets himself be moved and doesn’t pretend otherwise. His sensitivity and innocence are why I am with him. I am reminded of what a good man he is.

“I love you.” I am on a hospital gurney getting ready for surgery to remove cancer from my body.  Things will never be the same, life is uncertain and I am terrified. “Why now?” he says ever so softly. Because love is all I have to hold onto. I need to hear something in my voice besides fear, and need to know that I part of something more than cancer. Through my love I remind myself of who I am and how much bigger life is than this illness.

“I love you” I say with a sigh. Frustration edges my voice. We are having a disagreement that stems from his inability to communicate and my tendency to make up for it by over doing it. “Why now?” He doesn’t believe me – I can hear it in his voice. I don’t blame him for his doubts, but the truth is that even when I am mad I wouldn’t chose to be anywhere else (or at least not for long!). Either one of can chose to leave, but instead we slog through the tough times together knowing there is more than just this moment. I appreciate his willingness to keep trying and am grateful that we respect for each other too much to demand that our individual position is the only correct one.

We are a society that throws “I love you” around a lot. We say it lightheartedly to people we barely know, toss it around when we are happy, and end conversations with it habitually. I’ve slipped up and said it as I am hanging up the phone when it was clearly inappropriate and not meant. Too many times in the past I have said it without thinking about what it means. Often what I intended by the words was felt as something different to the person hearing it. That doesn’t mean I should say it less – in fact, post-cancer, I probably say it more than I ever have. I just am conscious of what it means to me when I do.

When I pay attention to saying “I love you” to anyone – especially Neil, I come to a deeper understanding of what is going on inside me moment to moment. It challenges me to use language that is more descriptive to build a fuller picture of my feelings and fill in the gaps so that the person I am addressing understands what “I love you” means for me. By doing so, I give them space to experience the intent instead of getting tangled up in the baggage. And more importantly, I am better able to speak from my heart when I know what really resides there.

“Why Now?” may very well be a stalling or diversionary tactic from a man emotionally tied in knots, but through the untangling of my own I have become a better person. As I discover why I love, I am better able to actually DO the emotion of love.

And love is something we all could get better giving AND receiving.

Cultivating asparagus April 20, 2011

I have been putting in an asparagus bed this Spring – an interesting process for a girl with some serious commitment issues. Growing asparagus takes a lot of preparation and care and needs to be left alone for two years before it is harvested. And not only does it take forever  before you can eat it, it hogs a whole lot of energy and valuable space. In order to make room for it, 2 large sheds got taken down, a ton of gravel was moved and a hundred wheelbarrows full of dirt were hauled across the yard to fill the 4’x11’x14” bed that will house a cluster of weedy looking roots. Counting a full year of planning and preparation, by the time I have a piece of roasted asparagus on my plate, nicely seasoned with olive oil, garlic and a little lemon pepper, I will have labored over it for three years without it even reaching its peak production for  several more. I’m preparing to commit to this vegetable longer than most things in my life.

My kids and I moved nearly 20 times in the nineteen years we lived together. We relocated for good reasons, and for bad….we have moved all of our stuff into storage units while we lived out of boxes, and unpacked full of hope time and time again. Each time I carefully packed the collection of bird nests my daughter said I kept because I was looking for my own place to nest. Each new home was like a new garden…an empty space waiting to be filled, full of promise that if I worked hard enough, it would be bountiful. In each I tended a garden of some sort, full of hope that the seeds I planted would unleash abundance on us.

Gardening is where the dreamer in me shines – where I can jump in head fist and watch the magic happen. It is a small world I get to be god of. I spent many winters reading garden catalogs, making plans and buying far more seeds than I ever really needed. Always hoping that this would be the one I got to keep, I threw my whole heart in with wild abandon. I dug every new garden myself, asking for and receiving no help…moving turf, hauling rocks and constructing beds.The problem was I spent little time distilling what I REALLY wanted, had the time and energy for  and whether the conditions were really right. It was one big all-or-nothing-try-everything-in-hope-that-something-works. Regardless of the suitability of the land to what I wanted, I attempted to build my dreams in an energetic frenzy of dirt moving and shit hauling.

Ironically (or maybe not) no matter how many times I planned, dug and sweated, or even how long I was able to tend that particular garden, I never really harvested what I planted. I confess – shamefully – I was a lifetime gardener who didn’t enjoy the fruits of her labors. Sure, I would nibble out of it and give stuff away to neighbors and friends, but as for harvesting and making the most of every zucchini, bean or lettuce leaf – well, most of it rotted. For all the time, energy, and work I put in, I never really got to be nourished by it. I dove in headfirst with enthusiasm and hope but was blinded by the enormity of possibility. I would lose focus, forget to water, get distracted and soon  it was too late. The window of opportunity was gone.

In my garden I had a big idea of what I wanted – but it was like comparing a relationship to a grocery store romance novel — little connection with reality or possibility. Even though I dreamed big and worked hard on it, it wasn’t necessarily what I wanted or capable of maintaining and I had to give up mid-stream. And all these years of running to and from many things – and myself  - meant that I had never learned how to cultivate my dreams. My lack of abundance in other areas of life left me seeking, yet unable to harvest, my dream anything much less garden. A lack of clarity about what I wanted had me planting far more seeds that I was interested in or able to take advantage of. I was a spectacularly hard worker but not so good at doing all that would have resulted in a successful harvest. When the garden had finally reached its maximum fertility and was ready to give back, I let the branches break for the weight of the fruit, and the stalks fell over top-heavy.  It was survival of the fittest…the toughest plants survived the attention/neglect then got packed up and moved on with me. The rest was left unapologetically in the compost heap.

This post was about gardening right?

To an outsider gardening looks like you can just plant, sit around watching it grow, pull a few weeds and then feast. It takes a great deal more planning and preparation in order to be successful. Choices about time and place, long term goals and quality of the available resources are critical to being able to continue productivity for the long term. The daily tending is critical to keeping it healthy.  And like so much of life, it is the small things you do that result in abundance. Sometimes in the in-between, when you are just tending to the dream, it is easy forget your intention and get distracted. Gardening and life are a constant re-commitment to the process –even when it looks like nothing is happening. We have to trust in the unseen, to believe that our care matters. Sometimes we have to re-evaluate mid-stream, make different decisions about our resources or take a break to rest the soil. We have to plan ahead to prevent disaster and anticipate our successes so that we are ready to receive.

Cancer changed much in my life, right down to the fact that my “garden” became 2 pots on the back porch and some real evaluation about what I wanted in life. Now that my kids had moved out, I only had my needs to consider and a clean slate. I had a gnawing sense of immediacy and my world had become a daily investigation of what was important to me in the moment. Gone was my endless energy for big, vague dreams and instead I asked myself regularly, “is this making me happy?” and “what do I really want?”.I was often surprised by the answers.

Some of that big dream I thought I wanted didn’t really apply to me. The job I thought was so important was not. And neither was questing after the status of being important. I wanted small, not large. What was actually valuable to me in my relationships was not necessarily what I had thought. I was really satisfied with the “happy hour menu” instead of the whole big sha-bang.  Most importantly, I began to realize I was worth the effort to plan for and have what I wanted then to enjoy whatever it was.

My boyfriend Neil began looking for his first house to buy while I lay in bed recovering from surgery. As he was working through finding what he really wanted I encouraged him to make a “treasure map” of what was most important and to firmly believe that it would lead him to the right home. I taught him the very work I was trying to embody myself and hoped that teaching would help the learning sink in. While he manifested his way to a new home, I mapped my way into a new life, questioning the importance of each step to make sure I was not throwing it all to the wind as I so often had.

And sure enough the house appeared – in not quite what was be anyone’s dream location, but certainly full of possibility and possessing every strength Neil considered important – down to room for the roses he hoped to grow. Though it was Neil’s home, I had made my own treasure map of what I hoped for in this next move: space to build love, the strengthening my health, staying close to my parents, time to self-reflect  wrapped in the sweet smell flowers and of course, a garden. We got the got the keys the night before my last radiation treatment. Come spring, we counted 30 rose bushes (!) and those mysterious tree-like plants all over the yard turned out to be a dozen different lilacs. The previous owner was a gardener and as it warmed up and my energy began to return, I filled her garden beds with vegetables and munched on the raspberries she had tended so carefully.  As I settled my nest collection into its new home, I couldn’t help but wonder if finally I had learned enough to have found my own nest location too.

That first summer I carefully tended a garden that had been there for many years with the tools that the little old lady had left for me to use. Fenced in and protected, there were many plants that were long established and an abundance of surprises. I grew only what I knew we could eat and what I had energy for, I shared the excesses of raspberries and beans but kept enough for me to make jam and put things away in the freezer for deep-winter treats. I planted flowers that I cut every week and tended the dozens of rose bushes making sure that I always brought the beauty indoors to enjoy all of the time.

Cautiously I dug into the dirt, my home and my relationships. I re-established connections with friends I hadn’t seen in years because I had felt so toxic. Neil and I remodeled the whole house  making it ours, sorting out the nuances of what we each wanted. We learned how to work together amidst the piles of rubble and dust left from tearing down the old in so many ways.  We called our friends and loved ones for help with the hard things and to join us in celebrating our successes.  Tentatively I extended little tendrils of roots and closed the exit doors I usually left open for me to escape. Where I used to plan far ahead and close myself off, now our house and garden is full of the laughter of family and friends who often stop by unannounced. Many quite evenings have passed with a glass of wine in hand watching our chickens root around in the dirt. And I have fully harvested two years worth of gardens, with a freezer full to prove it.

When I told my kids I was planning to plant asparagus they said “Whoa Mom, that is BIG!” And it is. This wasn’t something I could dig up and take with me in a pot or pack into a box.  Planting asparagus is a statement that I plan to be around to stick around to see it grow, to do the cautious work of preparing its home, to take care of it and enjoy it thoroughly when it ended up on my plate.

There is something way bigger at work here in this garden. I have stopped envisioning my life in big fairy tale format that had little connection to my sanity and dreams. I spend more time asking if this is my desire or someone else’s and try to act on that. When I focus on what I want, I stop running away from abundance and instead become more able to receive the fruits of my labor.  I allowed for the wisdom, tools and helping hands of the people around me, past and present, to help me tackle challenges instead of hiding, ashamed of my struggles and limited knowledge. As I become more comfortable with what I want and who I am without the extra distractions, I am able to set down roots. All gardeners know that the more nourished the roots the deeper they grow and the healthier the plant. And I feel my roots growing strong and deep and reaching outwards to anchor myself to this place.

The Jersey King asparagus that will arrive any day now has no idea how incredibly important it is. When I finally get to that dinner, I will have worked the same garden for 4 years – longer than I have ever stayed put in one place. It will also mean that I have allowed love in my life, and consistently maintained close friendships that nurture me, for the longest time ever.  Its survival means that I will have successfully cultivated hope and acted on my dreams in many aspects of my life for longer than I have ever. And most importantly, I stuck through the rain and dirt, sunshine and beautiful days to actually enjoy the effort I have put in. A lot rides on something that could die regardless of my attention. This asparagus – not even planted yet – represents far more than a tasty side dish. It represents the most important commitment I have ever made – the one to constantly and lovingly tend my own inner garden.

Light it up March 30, 2011

“Contradiction

I’m conflicted with being a hypocrite

And through these songs you can witness it

The difference is that I admit this shit

‘cause I’m just like you

Walking the fine line between saying it

And living it”

~Macklemore

I have quit writing more times than I can count.  In fact, I have quit many things – and people – more times than I can count.  I have avoided, belittled and stalled on amazing ideas and plans and I have been far less than I could be. I had gone into hiding and shirked my calling. I have ended friendships, jobs and avoided being recognized. I used to think that it was just a “commitment” issue that caused me to be unable to fully engage, but recently I heard words come out of my mouth that told a different story.

I was giving a long list of reasons why I really shouldn’t write to my son the other day.  He got frustrated with the never-ending excuses and said JUST DO IT MOM.  “I can’t” I replied.  “If I do, someone will find out someday that I can’t always live the story I tell, and they will call my bluff and everyone will know that I am a fake and it will be horrible”.  Openmouthed he looked at me and with thick eighteen year old sarcasm he said “REALLY, Mom?????”  Confessing this to a young adult fully in the throes of self-discovery shook me into realizing how universal this fear of being judged is, and how limiting.

The next day I got in the car and plugged in music my son introduced me to from Seattle hip hop master Macklemore in which he talks about the difficulties of being a white, middle class hip hop artist.  He speaks of the need to share your story and of the urge to create that goes beyond your own self-imposed boundaries. He totally gets the paralyzing fear that you are going to be called out on how well you walk the talk.  He challenges us to honor the places we are contradictory so that we are more true to ourselves and liberate our creativity from self-judgment.  Hmmm…..

I am often front and center in leadership roles that mask my own insecurities. I would love to live a quiet life out of the path of action but something keeps pushing me into it.  Destiny, karma, or whatever, has given me the ability and opportunity to serve others even though  I’d rather be unknown .  I have tried, but I can’t fight it. I have this over riding sense that I am supposed to speak up and speak out even as I worry that someday the skeletons in the closet are going to have a big ol’ dance party in front of everyone I know. I still hear the voice of someone I loved challenging me:  “How can you help other people when you are so screwed up?”.  Said years ago, it continues to echo within me.

Writing in particular is a challenging and often completely bipolar exercise. Some days I get up so excited to write that it is all I can do to get through the day until I can sit at the computer.  The words just flow out of me and the connection to a deeper wisdom is effortless.  It makes me incredibly happy and everything is good.  Other days the voices in my head drown out any enthusiasm with their shouting about how worthless it all is, how self-indulgent and arrogant I am. Worse yet….what a liar. I struggle with getting out of bed, much less with how to be my truest self.  I am often not a very good cancer survivor, and frequently can’t find anything positive about who I am now because of it. Most of the wisdom found on these pages was discovered at the end of many a long road of hardship that a truly wise person would have seen coming and avoided like the plague.  While I feel the truth in the words that flow so easily on those magical days, the reality of living them fully is often daunting enough for me to hide not only my gifts, but myself.  What if I am wrong?  What if I can’t?  Who am I to say these things?  For God’s sake, what if someone finds out I am human!???

In my all or nothing life, I frequently judge myself too harshly –if I am not all wise, than I am nothing.  And if I am nothing, well, then that is just how it is so I should keep my head down and maybe no one will notice.  Certainly don’t put myself in front of an audience who will all be there to see me fall.

But,  there it is….I sit with the knowing that I am both wise and stupid, successful and not, and to live this life fully, both sides of the coin must be embraced.  I do walk the fine line between saying it and living it, and am nothing if not a frequent contradiction.

Perhaps I need to remember the day I went to give a speech (for which I had paid a lot of attention to how I looked)  to have my mom tell me I had chicken shit on my stilettos. We laughed it off after a cleanup and I went to the microphone relaxed.  The speech went great -I came off as smart and funny and looked pretty good too.  No one knew about the poop….and maybe it was just what I needed to keep me grounded and focused on what part of me was most important.

It would seem fairly obvious that we all are in process, and we shouldn’t judge ourselves so harshly for where we are not living up to the face we put on for everyone else.  But we do.  I have too many friends that agonize over where they think themselves a disappointment to others, who choose not to love fully or pursue their dreams because they need to keep their carefully developed persona intact.  We are so aware of our own faults and mistakes that we wear them as a shield to protect ourselves from our dreams.  It is an awfully heavy burden to lug around.

I challenge you to look within at the areas where you act as if you are less;  where you don’t stick your neck out, say what you need to say, act on your dreams or love as fully as you would like because someone might see the contradiction in your intentions and your actions. Don’t listen to the people who scoff at how “you talk one thing and do another”, who question the validity of what you know, who hold you back because of what it means to them if you take risks.  If we change ourselves, the whole world will change with us because we are all so connected.  And if we call our own bluff and show the man behind the curtain, everyone will all be affected and called to a deeper place of integrity and honesty that will change all of us.

My confusion about the right path to take and the way I often flail around in my life are the same struggles others face more or less publicly.  We are not diminished by our challenges, but fed by them.  We all live lives of contradiction because we are complex ever- evolving beings.  There is grace in holding both the wisdom and the idiocy, and true depth and meaning come from a heart that has been strengthened by both.

I am sure there will be many more days where I feel like a hypocrite and unable to live with the contradiction in what I am able to do vs. what I write about.  I write this not as an apology or a public exposure of my weaknesses in order to cover my ass, but as a way for me to speak the truth about all that I am so that I can be more.  I have written nearly everywhere in this blog that we must live into what we choose instead of into our fear not because I am good at it, but because I must keep reminding myself.  We hide all we can be because we fear that in showing our brilliance we will also expose our dark.  As the chorus to the Macklemore song goes, we must “light it up to burn it down”.  And so I write today and each day  to light a match for me and for you and you and you and you and you…………..

(Check out this amazing music….Macklemore \”Contradiction\”)

Red Boots January 29, 2011

A reoccurring conversation between my partner Neil and I goes like this:

“do you think I should write?”

“yes”

“why?”

“because you are good at it and you like to do it”

“that’s not enough of a reason”

“why?”

“because it doesn’t really matter– it doesn’t pay the bills – it is just about me ”

“oh”

“does it make you happy?”

“yes”

“hmm”

Two years into survivorship, real life is imposing on the good life I intended in the post cancer survivors bliss of “I have to make this time on earth meaningful”.  I am battling the feeling that that life is really, really short but excuse-me-I-have- to- go- clean -the –toilets- now- what- trivial- problem- did -you -need –me- to- solve- for- you- before -I –eat- my- “lunch”- at -4pm- where –is- that-stupid -bill – I- can’t-justify-  that- new- pair- of- boots- after- all. I am again doing more because I feel like I should instead of because I want to. I am back to having to justify to myself doing what has pleasure, depth and meaning to me alone.  I struggle with the feeling that even though I LIKE something, it has to serve some larger utilitarian purpose in order to be worthwhile. But  I am also actively engaged in figuring out what makes ME happy and how to have more of that in my life.

I became “Mom” when I was 20, and even though I didn’t let parenthood change my life or choices too much, I always had someone else’s needs to consider. I went from being a kid to being responsible for a child with no time in between. I never spent any time assessing what I ALONE really wanted until both kids moved out the year before cancer came knocking.  Just as I was beginning to get a feel for who I was -gaining strength as an INDIVIDUAL instead of as an appendage of my kids – I was told cancer was trying to kill me.  Having to take extreme measures to save my own life kicked me deeper into reflection about who I was and what I alone wanted.  Cancer made me choose ME first after years of putting myself at the end of the line – and my life depended on making myself most important.

Choosing to place ourselves first is ALWAYS a life or death decision. Regardless of the circumstances that brought us to this place – be it cancer or something less dramatic, we may suddenly realize that we lost ourselves along the way. A rescue is in order and the person we are saving is the most important, worthwhile one of all……our deepest, most precious and unique selves.

We rarely take the time to examine exactly what we really want ; instead we are pulled along by circumstances until something knocks us over and we realize that time has slipped away from us.  A divorce, illness, children leaving or parents dying forces day light through our comfortable fog.  Suddenly something took over our well ordered lives and threw everything into the air.  And we cannot predict or control where things are going to fall. We may have forgotten to live our own life in the midst of everyday dramas and the “necessities” around us.  We may have settled for someone else’s version of ourselves in order to be “responsible” and “grown-up”.  We may be more or less happy with the person we have settled into but the tiny voices of our dreams and hopes still sing at us creating a restless wind if we care to notice.

It is a necessity of soul survival to discover our own lives – not our parents, our partner’s, our children’s, or our so called “responsible adult” one.  JUST OURS.  In order to LIVE it is required of us to be “selfish”-to learn what makes our own heart sing and to pursue it with wild abandon.  If we do not explore all the potentials – if we do not let ourselves write, dance, create, play or whatever – we are starving ourselves and the world around us of a glorious life.  We need to give a voice to our creative, active and spiritual selves in order to stay vibrant and alive. As we live a more honest heart centered life, others are inspired to be more true to themselves too.  We must all find ways small and large to create our happiness. Everyone benefits, instead of loses, when we each learn to put ourselves at the top of the list instead of at the bottom.

In the movie “All About Steve” Sandra Bullock plays Mary, a quirky single girl trying to figure out how to be herself in the so called “normal” world.  She wears a pair of tall red rubber boots with every outfit and when her father questions this unusual fashion choice she cries “they make my feet happy!” The boots were silly; they never really went with anything – but they made her feel confident, alive and HAPPY.  When her life shifted and something else came along that spoke to her more deeply about her true self and her happiness, she passed them on.  And so we should take her example:  instead of trying to fit into someone else’s idea of what your life should look like, find what makes you happy. Celebrate your quirkiness, don’t try to stuff it because it doesn’t pay the bills, look responsible or “pays off”.  When you open your arms to what brings you joy – in large and small ways – you will find yourself surrounded by opportunity, joy and happiness that you had no idea was available to you.

Letting ourselves indulge in our own happiness doesn’t have to be a gigantic life shaking event….it can be as small as choosing the watermelon flavored gum you loved as a kid instead of the “adult” mint flavor.  There are all kinds of small things that we gave up along the way because they seemed like an indulgence or just silly.  We stay in joyless situations, marriages, careers and all sorts of ruts with no escape plan simply because that is where we landed.  We may just find ourselves constantly thinking “I wish I could…”

The path we must go down might be a rocky one in order to get to the end of the rainbow but set your compass on whatever is your “red boots”.  When there is no clear reason besides our own happiness to change our situation, we must  ask ourselves  “what better reason is there?”  When we hold ourselves to a standard of supposedly grown up responsibility that does not allow us to be our happiest and truest self, we are slowly killing ourselves off just as surely and subtly as cancer tried to kill me.

Create your bucket list and GO FOR IT!  There is no better reason to do anything than just because you want to —- it doesn’t have to serve a purpose, pay a bill, result in an award or recognition or matter to anyone else but you.  Honestly, no one even needs to know unless you decide to share the delicious secret of your happiness….that you took care of you.  This is about discovering who you really are instead of who you became by accident.  Choose to save your own life by finding out what it really looks like.

Who will cheer-lead you even when what you are doing has no value to the outside world?  Have coffee with them….TOMORROW!

What did you always want to be when you were a kid?  What is stopping you now? How can you still participate in that???  Read a book?  Attend a class? Volunteer?

If you are a parent, what kind of example do you set to your kids by not doing what would make you happy???  We think we must hold it together for our kids, but they understand inner chaos and self discovery and exploration more than we know…..

If it took a lot of work to get to wherever dissatisfied place you are now– won’t it feel like less work to get to someplace that really rocks your world?

Make a list of all the things you stopped doing that made you happy but didn’t have a real purpose.  AND DO ONE EVERY WEEK.  Then make another list of all the stuff you have always wanted to do, but didn’t because it seemed useless.  Take a step towards exploring yourself each week!

Set your sights high – you never know if the Universe was just waiting for you to get it together so that it could rain down bliss on you!

Choose yourself first and all else will follow.

Victim or Survivor? January 17, 2011

I have a cancer survivor friend who has become a victim of the disease.  He has let the diagnosis of several years back claim not only his past, but his future.  Cancer took control of his life without permission, and now even though it is gone, it still rules his world.  In his view his life is ruined and he is perpetually traumatized by all that happened as a result.  The fact that it showed up unannounced “proved” to him how little control he has over things, so why even try? Even when questioned about what he really wants out of life, his attitude is one of “It’s not going to happen so why ask? It just makes it harder to deal with the challenges. I just have to deal with what is in front of me and not expect anything else.”

Survivorship and believing yourself to be victim – or acting as if you are one – are in direct opposition to each other and to life.

This is not just a cancer issue, cancer just happens to be my obvious example.  Survivorship and its impending challenges, joys  and difficulties, happens after financial devastation, unexpected career shifts and  divorce.  Becoming a survivor is a process in which you choose to make decisions that support forward movement instead of wallowing in the events that have drug you down.  It can be an immediate state of mind, it can come long after the event, or it can be an elusive state that is desired but never embodied. Like my friend, we can physically survive an event, but that does not mean that we have re-engaged in living.

The opportunity to be a survivor may be thrust upon us but we have a choice to take it on or ignore it.  We may make it through the series of traumatic events that landed us here, but how whole we emerge from it in depends on us. To be a survivor requires making a choice to take your life into your hands and to own it.

In his book Deep Survival, Laurence Gonzales explores the science and facts behind who survives a traumatic experience and who becomes a victim of it.  Writing primarily about wilderness accidents, he says “psychologists who study survival say that people who are rule followers don’t do as well as those who are of independent mind and spirit.”   (pg85)  He goes on to explore why outdoor adventurers  who have planned thoroughly , are highly trained, experienced and most of all consciously prepared for danger, make terrible deadly decisions that run counter to everything they should have known.

His research shows how some people are so connected to the “plan” that when faced with all evidence pointing to why the plan should change, they continue to push onwards.  They cannot revise their vision of what they want to match their current reality. Rethinking their situation and goals would allow for new avenues of possibility -and survival – but  instead they keep moving forward based on information that is no longer relevant to their current situation.  The mechanism of the mind that keeps saying  that if you just keep looking you will find the trail gets you more and more lost  - the reality is that you are alone in the dark and need to conserve your resources and come up with a new plan.

Our original life plan is full of goals, hopes and dreams …then a major traumatic event interrupts.  We just want to get through it alive and in one piece. For cancer survivors, other people step in during diagnosis and treatment and take control telling you what needs to be done,  keeping  you moving through necessary procedures and boosting  you along emotionally on the river of treatment like a life-raft.   While you are fighting the disease you are focused and have a definite idea of what outcome you want. The path is clear in front of you and there is a definite course of action. The parts of the fight for your life that are uncomfortable are tinged in a rosy glow of purpose.  There is a plan, and, if you are one of the lucky ones, in the end, the plan works and you are disease free. You are surrounded by people who help you along the path and you clearly intend to return to the real world at the end of it and rejoin your well-planned life.

One would think that in living through a life threatening disease this is where the battle ends, but it is only the beginning.  Not preparing for post-trauma survivorship is like climbing to the top of Everest thinking that the real work is done and now “all you have to do” is get back down.  There is great danger in not realizing that the journey home is as equally fraught with risk, and perhaps more so as now that the goal has been met and we surround ourselves in thoughts about returning to the real world.

If you are reading  this, unlike the explorers in Gonzales book,  your  initial “plan” worked out – and you like me,  have survived the initial traumatic event . But we are now entering into a whole different survival adventure that requires of us fresh perspective and new choices. Killing cancer cells, getting the divorce, or spending months without a job was not the battle.  These were only the events that got us to the point of having to show up in the moment and  revise our plans.  Survivorship is what happens AFTER.  Our work as survivors begins when we actively chose to reengage in a different life than we had before  – moving forward instead of staying stuck in the event or in what we used to be.  The airplane has crashed  –   but how we live on the island is actually the piece that is the most important  and the most interesting.

We cannot return to the way things were. We cannot waste our precious time wishing things were otherwise.  We cannot stay stuck in the trauma that we have been through.  In order to survive we must re-create our reality. We must remain flexible and alert to signs of possibility.  We are still in a critical state of action that requires our intention to be clear, just as when we were fighting the battle.

At the end of Deep Survival Gonzales has an appendix called “Rules of Adventure”  in which he lists 12 points that seem to be universal in  “how survivors think and behave in the midst of a difficult situation”.  Some of them include the obvious like keeping calm; others are more unusual like playing and seeing the beauty around you even in the middle of a dire situation.

The last point stands out:  “Never give up – let nothing break your spirit”.

While we are fighting the battle surrounded by support staying on the forward moving track may be relatively easy, but afterwards  - when we really embody survivorship – are  our spirits intact?  As we have had to revise our plans (maybe multiple times) ; now that the world and our lives are different than what we counted on,  are we our best person?  As we deal with all the changes, feel more alone and  people no longer seem as actively supportive as they were when we were in crisis, are we still our own hero?  Have we been able to let go of all that we wanted, and instead adapt to all that is?  Are we still dreaming big and making plans for our new lives instead of wishing that we could return to how it was before?

Survivorship is rising above and beyond what happened to us.  It is about taking the reins and dealing with EVERYTHING that happened to us – especially our actions after situations that were thrust on us and  seem to be beyond our control.  Survivorship  is about looking at where we were and where we are now and choosing to move beyond both. Though it may seem unjust that we are presented with the challenges we face, we are being tested and given an opportunity to rise above.  How far we rise depends on each of us.

( For more information please read: Deep Survival: Who lives, Who Dies and Why, Laurence Gonzales, 2003, W.W.Norton)

I am committed to this…I think September 9, 2010

I have commitment issues.  Some are the fairly obvious ones demonstrated by never having stayed in a relationship physically AND emotionally longer than 5 years.  Others kept me,  until now,  from having a job that lasted longer than a couple years or from living in the same location for any length of time.  These days my lack of commitment shows up in the sneaky mirror of my playtime.

Neil taught me to golf in addition to refining my skiing skills.  He rapidly caught on to my tendency to bail out when I get uncomfortable and one of his mantras has been “you have to commit all the way through your swing/your turns”.  Easy for Neil to say when a poorly hit ball for him just means he has a tough lie – I might have killed someone two fairways over.  And imagine what would happen if while skiing, in the apex of my turn when my skis are pointed straight downhill, something funky happens and I head through a crowd of small children at top speed cursing as I double eject headfirst into the snow.  Why would I fully commit to something that is likely to go very, very wrong?  No matter whether it is skiing or golfing or life in general, there are factors I cannot anticipate and an error in skill and judgment could have very painful results for myself or an innocent bystander.

I am a bit of a control freak born out of both the need to prevent potential disaster and the result of much disaster striking in my life. How funny that my main two sports are comprised of tiny muscle movements (did I mention I am a klutz?)  that act in combination with uncontrollable variations in terrain.  This should have been a huge red flag that these sports were going to stretch my physical and emotional growth!  It certainly makes me wonder about my sanity and tendency towards masochism.  Topping it off is knowing that when I get scared or frustrated, I don’t just quit and go in for a beer….I am likely to do the same bloody thing over and over again until I die trying or someone locks me up because they can’t stand the brutality of it all. Somehow I seem to think if I keep doing it until I cannot stand it anymore it will get better.  It never seems to occur to me to examine exactly WHY I was having so much trouble with a relatively easy set of instructions or actions.  It simply starts with the conviction, before I even grab a club for the first swing or as I pick up speed at the  start of the a turn,   that chances are good that I am going to fail miserably and either get hurt, or worse, look like a fool.  And yet, I keep doing both sports  - and many other things in life,  repeatedly as long as I can,  until I am physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted.

In investigating how to improve my golf game, my skiing and life in general,  I began to look deeper in to why I struggle with sports that I SHOULD be able to grasp easily given my strength and physical abilities. One of the primary things you are taught in golf is that your “swing thoughts” impact every movement your body makes thus affecting the outcome of every swing.  As I am standing over the ball, here are what my swing thoughts are like:  “Okay, Neil is watching me. I have to keep my arms straight. I am never going to do this right. Don’t forget to be slow. Wait my hands are too tight – I am strangling the baby bird!  Oh, geez I never hit well with this club. Take a backswing.  Oh God, that was way too big. This ball is never going to go straight. Don’t forget to release the club head.  Uh oh, that was too late.  AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!! It is taking a sharp right hook!  FORE!!!!!!!!!!!! I am NEVER going to fix this.  I can’t believe he stays with me.  I bet he would MARRY someone that could hit the freakin’ ball.  I am such a failure……this is a stupid game. Why do I do this? Oh, look I found another ball.  I wonder if I can…..”.

I don’t think you have to be a golfer to understand that all that negative talk in the middle of a second or two worth of action cannot possibly result in a positive outcome.  Recently an LPGA pro asked me about my last swing thought before I hit a ball.  My response?  “Oh Crap”.  She looked at me in horror before saying dryly, “We need to get you a new one.” And this is what I think nearly every time I pick up a golf club – which, depending on the round, might be 80 times in 4+hours.  Imagine what my inner life is like when I am not playing golf! If I am that hard on myself when I am playing a GAME how hard am I on myself about my role at work, being a parent, what I see in the mirror, what kind of writer I am? Somehow I often see myself or my actions towards a goal as inherently flawed at the beginning, with little hope of a positive outcome. Being so hard on myself and having so little faith in my ability to accomplish my lofty goals (a little golf joke there!) results in me lacking the commitment to myself and my actions I need in order to be the person I want to be — much less to be able to complete a golf swing.

When I was diagnosed with cancer I really didn’t spend a whole lot of time in the “why me” place of the diagnosis, instead I dug into that thoroughly stubborn part of me and plowed onward. Maybe I felt that this too was just another example of how the adage “shit happens” always seems to apply directly to me. But the action of committing to the steps towards health felt different somehow than changing my belief that I would never be a good golfer.  In the face of impending disaster I rarely ever give up, but now I had to come to terms with the fact that just because I am stupidly tenacious in my actions does NOT mean that I am completely committed to the outcome I actually want to see.  So many times  playing golf, I WANT to hit the ball well; I know what I should do and I know where it should go; but I give up at the last second and somehow do not follow through physically because I did not believe  in potential for the positive end result of my actions.  With such an immense health crisis in front of me I had to believe wholeheartedly that while there were many possibilities for health at the end of it all, there was no question that health was what I was going to achieve.  I learned to use my strength of character – that tenacity I had previously used to prove what a dork I was – to get me through long physically and emotionally painful days on my road to a new life as a survivor.

I have learned there are many possible actions that can still result in successful outcome. Sometimes I play what is called military golf – I hit the ball  to one side of the fairway and then to the other side (right,left, right, left) .  Maybe it will never be fairway center like a “good shot” but I may still hole it in par.  I don’t always hold the same fall line in my skiing either, but enjoy the variety of turn shapes and speed that I do reach before I hit the chairlift a turn behind Neil.  I am learning to not hold onto one idea of the right way to golf, one idea of beauty or wholeness, or one definition of what is a good relationship.  In accepting the many possible options for a “good” outcome, it has become easier for me to let go of trying to control the impossible and let my committed actions bring me closer to what I want.

Not only did I change my follow through, but I changed my thinking in order to achieve the results I hoped for. Any golfer will tell you that if you are worried about hitting the tree (or a person in the fairway) you are GOING to hit it.  The fairway could be 200 yards across with a 12“ wide tree in the middle (and you NEVER hit a straight shot) and you will hit it if you are thinking about it.  Funny that even though golfers tend towards the fairly conservative male variety, what they are really talking about is belief in yourself (positive or negative) and the power of manifestation.  No matter how unlikely it is that we will hit the perfect shot to hit that freakin’ tree – much less twice when the first one hits it and ricochets back at us – we tell ourselves “I am going to…” and it happens. How magical is that?  And if it happens every day to ordinary guys on the golf course imagine what we are doing to ourselves when we say “I don’t have enough…..”, “ I am not ….” , “They will…..”.  We can choose to believe that we are powerful, beautiful, creative beings, or we can choose to remember the nasty things that our last lover, employer, former friend or evil inner twin said to us and believe that we are not worth the air we breathe, that everything we do is screwed up and we are never going to amount to anything. That thought determines our actions and our actions determine the outcome.  If tiny little muscle movements are governed so easily by our thoughts imagine how big the repercussions of those thoughts  are in our lives. How is it that we can so completely believe that things are going to get screwed up and yet are unable to hold with equal conviction the belief that we can create the positive outcome we want?

A huge part of commitment is learning to find in myself the person who was worth all this effort. I have had to look deep within and decide what I really wanted and to believe without question that what I wanted was within reach. I have learned to not be afraid of the possibility of a negative outcome…. and when something went haywire to not let it stick to me in the same way I had adhered myself to other potential failures.  I for one have let the negative power of belief rule far more of my life than would be apparent to anyone on the outside.  I have been told horrible things about myself by people I once trusted  and even though FAR more people have said amazing, beautiful things about me I choose to believe the worst.  I have lacked commitment to myself and in my actions in life because I believed  – wrongly – that the chances of disaster were greater than the chances of success.  I didn’t allow myself to believe in the many potential good outcomes for my actions. I failed to remember the tree in the fairway theory – you stand a far greater chance of hitting the mark you choose if you choose to believe you will hit the mark.

I have a cut out piece of a Starbucks coffee cup that sits on the windowsill over my kitchen sink where I have to read it several times every day.  Starbucks had a campaign going at one time where patrons could send in a quote or statement and it could end up on a coffee cup –it was like a fortune cookie, and sucker that I am I drank more coffee at Starbucks during this time so that I could see what the cosmos had to say to me that day.

The irony of commitment is that it’s deeply liberating — in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.

– Anne Morriss

Reading this quote every day has been instrumental in the previously unknown  endurance of my relationship and my job;  has increased my contentment in  my home and enjoyment of my playtime and ultimately has helped save my life. I am freed by the choice to believe in the possibility that  what I want to have happen just might happen .  I needed  to be reminded  that all those fears that seem so justified were not the “protector” I thought they were.  That type of protection kept me from writing, from maintaining the healthy relationships with people who love me, and from seeing the world as opportunistic instead of a place where I must continually push hard with tenacity to get even a fraction of what I need.  Now days, when Neil harps on my “lack of commitment” while we are out playing, I think “buddy, you have NO IDEA” –  he does not see the work that I have done to tackle so much of this issue internally.  But he is finding less occasion to see that lack of commitment externally as I change my perspective. The fact that I don’t always complete a golf swing is an indicator of a much larger problem that I am trying to tackle with each ball in a large bucket at the driving range, each high speed arching ski turn, and each day I spend deeply committed to my life and those that I love.

And I really am working on developing a new swing thought for life………….