The summer intensity has been calling me back toward waterfalls again. This year, I’ve been playing with shifting my listening from one spot to the next, noticing how water bouncing off small rocks makes a tinkling sound under the noisy rush from heights above. The cascade’s separate sprays are like a crowd of different voices all talking at once, reminding me of the input overload so many of us feel these days. I try to hear one stream or another until I give up, listen to the whole chorus of voices together, and let it become one current, one being, one song.
Sounds lovely, right, but how on earth do we let the current of our modern times sing us a song rather than slip us off the edge and take us down with it? It’s more than just “go with the flow.” If we go with the flow of the collective, we are going down a dark vortex of strife and fear. So let’s pause for a moment from the many streams of deep grief, trauma, injustice, and tyranny and see if we can shift how we’re listening.
One of the aspects of waterfalls that strikes me this year is that the water only makes sound because of the rock. The flow is not separate from the hard places. I, like many, would usually prefer things go progressively forward in a direct line. But that’s not the way water, or life, moves. It curves over, under, and around the hard places, finding any way it can to keep flowing. We, too, must make contact with the rocky edges in ourselves and meander the curves to follow the course. The music is in keeping on.
I recently visited the waterfall I fell down a few years ago, and it, like many things, has changed. Time and weather has rearranged it. I’m a bit rearranged too, and maybe so are you. The way I see it, my Number One Job right now is to release negative thoughts and emotional tension as frequently as possible, so the waters don’t get muddied and stagnant, stuck in a puddle of doom. Letting go makes way for the flow to continue, showing the next right move at the next right time. We may want to get ahead of ourselves and hurry a plan, but like the water, the nature of life here on earth is that we move through what’s current before knowing what’s next.
Releasing and renewing sounds easier than it is to remember and do. But I believe in you because if you can take a moment out of your busy day to read this, it means you can take a moment to refresh your mind, body, and precious heart too. If that sounds improbable or impossible, it’s time for more support. Support from people, the water, the birds, the ground, the breath, the body–much is available when we ask and open to it.
May the chorus of the world sound to you like perennial permission to pause and re-source yourself, so you can get back up stronger again and again and again.
Feel like you’re being tested? Maybe you’re backtracking in something you thought you had healed or grown from. Or perhaps you’re moving forward, but trudging through deep mud to get there. When all your “stuff” is up, and you have responsibilities you can’t just drop, well… first thing I want to say is you’re in good company. Sometimes those in helping or leadership roles feel a pressure to have it together super consistently, in pretty much all areas of life. Let’s throw that trash into the recycling bin and start with the premise that:
It’s OK to be in the middle of a process and not at the end of it.
Last fall, my daughter and I stumbled into a huge gathering of turkey vultures, but one of those birds was not like the others. A ranger later told us it was called the crested caracara, otherwise known as the Mexican eagle. This fascinating winged one looks like a hawk, flies like an eagle, and acts and eats much like a vulture. This kind of versatility is certainly called for these days.
From the Hawk
It’s good to keep a keen eye on one’s prey, focusing only on the priority of this particular moment. Tuning in acutely to what is needed here and now brings the relief of one-pointed attention. Over time, it also becomesthe perseverance we need in action.
From the Eagle
Sometimes soaring above it all provides a better view. A little mental distance brings much needed perspective. We are just bitty things on this vast earth after all. The bigger pattern can’t be seen from our little corners of it. Also, let’s be real about our world context here. Is it not hubris to think we should be able to surf every rushing wave while watching others be pulled under the current? Like Krishnamurti said, “it is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.”
Now wait, hold up! Isn’t it paradoxical, saying we need to keep a wide view and also a narrow one? Yes. I can’t think of a better time to embrace complexity, adapting as we go.
And from the Vulture
It’s important to digest the losses we’ve incurred, and find some kind of nourishment in doing so together. These losses continue to accumulate relentlessly, yet the soul food of grief is assimilated slowly, piece by piece, moment by moment. With our wingmates nearer, we may find more resources in sharing.
I learned that the crested caracara, though a falcon, often walks on the ground and even collects material to build a nest. Bringing this all down to earth, it’s easy to spout wise words, not as easy to live them on a daily basis. This is especially true if you’re used to being the one supporting others, not needing support yourself. Yet all beings have something to offer, and all have blindspots and vulnerabilities too. If you’re faltering, please tell the truth to yourself about this, ask out loud for help, and be willing to receive it. Support may or may not come from the sources you expect it from, but a nest can be made from all sorts of material that shows up. May we make good use of what we find and create safe spaces to care for all the young, dear parts of ourselves that still need some holding.
With love and respect for the unique creature you are,
I’ve never liked the saying, “if you need something done, give it to a busy person.” To me, it sounds like, “pass the work to the person already overloaded with responsibility, and let everyone else chill.” The intention may be to get something done, but the effect is to ask more of someone who may have trouble saying no. Of course, it’s up to each one of us to maintain healthy boundaries and turn down requests we don’t have the bandwidth for. The problem is, busyness is like a force of nature–once you’re rolling fast, it’s easier to keep rolling than to slow down.
If you’ve ever had a pattern of over-fuctioning, you know what I’m talking about. You can put your head down and push through busy times, but you can also end up exhausted and depleted from the effort. When there’s finally time to rest, rather than celebrate a job well done, you may just need to recover. It’s not sustainable or even efficient to be on “give” mode all the time.
What if there were another way though?
What if when you took on more responsibility, you also received more of what replenishes you?
Here’s the new deal: the more we take on, the more we need to take in. That means rather than overdoing it, we “over-give” to ourselves so we can continue to give to others. What does this look like?
Blocking out self-care and renewal time during prolonged periods of high stress. Doing this on purpose, even though at first it may seem inconvenient and impossible. This means you actually schedule in time where no one is asking anything of you, including yourself!
Treating yourself to more support than you’ve ever had before, in new and different ways that refresh your spirit and bring vital energy and inspiration into your life.
Releasing the idea that there’s not enough time or resources, and opening to the possibility of doing things differently, making room for your capacity to expand. Changing old patterns may be scary, but it’s a worthy risk if it means you can enjoy giving again.
Does this sound good? Impossible? It is certainly a lot harder to make these changes within the same cultural context that tells us we are only worthy if we are doing something productive, income-producing, and/or for someone else. Balance would be easier in a community that supports slowing down, respecting cycles, and stopping when there’s enough. Rather than repeating the unhealthy patterns of what Mark Silver aptly terms “late stage capitalism,” why not be part of a cultural shift? If you tend towards having a lot on your plate, and you’d like some support changing the way you hold all of it, check out the New Year Release & Empower Women’s Circle. It’s women who give a lot to others empowering themselves to set boundaries, receive more, and prioritize their well-being. It’s time to balance these cycles of giving and receiving and co-create the world we want to live in. It’s time to keep commitments to ourselves the way we keep them to our loved ones. We heal these patterns together.
Sending big love to you in your holidays, your family dynamics, your grief, your gratitude, and all the other challenges and blessings this end-of-year brings,
Have you ever thought you knew someone well and later discovered a side of them you had never seen before? My brother has been transcribing some letters my grandmother wrote when she was engaged to my grandfather but living apart in New York and Chicago. Nineteen-year-old Helen Yarmush teases her beloved with tales of her dates with other men and says things like, “It’s been a beautiful day today–a day to run in the wind (which I did) and laugh and sing.” The Helen Zimmerberg I got to know three decades later was a mother of four who had already lost her first daughter to ovarian cancer and was undergoing chemo and radiation for lymphoma herself. I’ve cherished my memories of Helen’s sense of humor and ability to make the best out of most anything, and I delight in this free spirit I’m seeing now at her 20th yahrzeit (death anniversary). What a gift it is to discover something new in someone I haven’t seen for so long and to be reminded of how multi-faceted we all are.
If you feel different from who you were a couple years ago, perhaps your friends do too. Maybe you’ve lost some relationships, accepted casualties in these divisive times. What if you’ve lost yourself a bit too? In transition, most everything is incomplete and tender. You may feel in between what is no longer authentic and what is not yet grown. Are we willing to meet anew in this wobbly place, or will we try to connect the way we did before and seek only the parts of each other we used to know? I believe there is an in-between place, a place to cherish the familiar, unique essence which doesn’t alter over time while making room to see what else is emerging–in ourselves and in each other. We meet at this crossroads when we unfurl the grasp on old ideas and become willing to not understand. Like this walk through the fog at dawn, perhaps we begin by trusting the path that shows itself, finding beauty in what is not yet clear.
My grandma Helen had strong opinions, yet what was special about her was that she would change those opinions in an instant when more information came in. This wasn’t confusion or ambivalence; it was a permission she gave herself to change her mind and to make new choices as she learned better. It reminds me of something anyone who has been in a workshop, retreat, or the release and empower women’s circle with me has probably heard me say: “Let’s not hold onto anything that’s shared here. These are snapshots of present moment experiences, ones we honor but don’t carry around as your identity forever more. You’re free to show up the same or differently every time.” I’d like to offer this same invitation to anyone reading these words today. To you, who has gifted your attention here, willing to join me in the field of unknowing. Let’s let each other change and evolve, as slowly as we need to.
Have you ever sat by a waterfall in the forest, relaxed in a hammock on the beach, or watched an impressively colorful sunset and felt… nothing? Beauty and peace surround you, yet you’re lost in your own troubles. Maybe you’ve even had that experience with helping professionals, going to therapists and bodyworkers and life coaches and doctors and still, you remain caught in the same struggle that brought you there. It’s an awful feeling, like being handed a beautiful gift made just for you, only you can’t reach out your hands to accept it. You might decide the gift is not right for you and continue your search for more and new and better gifts. But what will help you to receive them?
As many of you know, I am a huge proponent of what I call “self-healing.” This phrase wasn’t super popular long ago, but much like “mindfulness” and “energy work,” it’s becoming so commonplace, it’s losing all meaning. So let me clarify the essence and the hype, as I see it.
What self-healing is not
When we are suffering, the darkness feels more real than the light. Finding solutions to problems in that dark place can seem pointless and burdensome. Self-healing, contrary to its name, is not about pulling yourself up by your bootstraps and applying that independent, self-reliant, cowboy attitude to recovering from burnout and trauma. It’s not about undergoing a multitude of different therapeutic modalities or taking every nutritional supplement or psychedelic medicine available on this earth, though your own self-healing process may certainly include some of these wonderful tools and teachers. Self-healing is also not about manifesting everything you desire or replacing social needs with spiritual pursuits. And just like an outside person can’t make a change happen in you, no “self” can force you to think and feel differently either.
What self-healing is
Self-healing is an opening. It is being able to see and acknowledge whatever kind of angsty mess we might find ourselves in for the moment. It is surrendering from the struggle to make it all better, a giving up on the attempt to figure it out. Self-healing, in the way I practice and understand it, is being willing to accept life on its own terms and to follow the step that shows up next like one would follow a flashlight through a dark cave. The actual steps are unique to each of us and the timing is as important as what actions we take. In essence, though, self-healing includes both some stepping up and some stepping back:
We accept we can’t delegate our ability to feel better about ourselves and our lives to outward circumstances or to someone else. We don’t wait on what is outside our control to change. We give up the quest for the final answer being out there somewhere someone else has hidden, and take loving responsibility for our own internal experience of this life. We tell the truth to ourselves about how we’re doing and use our will to be willing.
We slow down and let in the support that is already available. Maybe there’s a passerby that makes eye contact and smiles, a cardinal that lands on a nearby tree branch, a cooling tea with just the right herbal blend, a song, a movement, or a powerful ally or ancestor unseen by others. The form the support takes is irrelevant–what matters is we’ve let down our guard and allowed the spirit of what is present to touch us. The natural flow of life is healing itself when we stop blocking it. We learn how to receive, which, most simply put, is how to relax around what is.
We think we need to feel better; often what we really need is to release resistance to what we actually feel and allow the everyday magic to do its thing.Healing as a noun is still a verb—it’s a process unfolding all the time. Shit happens and you can befriend yourself through it or abandon yourself. Self-healing is about learning to be your own champion, your own rescuer, your own beloved. Not because you have a big ego and can do all those things, but because you know you can’t. It’s like the little fuzzy caterpillars I’ve been seeing on my morning walks these days. I was looking at them and thinking about how they will become butterflies. Then I saw one being eaten by a chipmunk. All is not light and wonder. Healing is transcendence but not always through outer transformation.
The individual’s decision to accept rather than resist is a turning point, not the whole story. We are each unique beings, but we are also part of a much larger organism, beyond our own families and loved ones. We are not separate from the earth we walk on nor the child on the other side of the globe. We affect each other. We can trigger each other like crazy, but we can also heal together in depths we can’t reach alone. There is quite a lot of stepping up and stepping back that needs to be done in community as well. Self-healing is essential: only you can choose to be willing and open. Self-healing is incomplete: like trees in the forest, we may seem separate above ground, but our roots are interconnected.
I hope whatever you’ve got going on this summer, you’re reconnecting in a way that is nourishing for you. For the empaths and the sensitives, that way may look quieter and more intentionally slowed down, and that’s absolutely OK. For some of us, re-entry to society is harder than turning in to the introvert’s cave of quarantine. We’re all working things out somehow though. Thank goodness we’ve got ourselves and each other for company on this wild ride.
I am beyond excited about the next cycle of the Release & Empower Women’s Circle, where self-healing in community moves beyond theory to practice. Women who give much of their time and attention to others are coming together in a sacred space for their own self-healing. We are upleveling the energetic container of the online experience, returning to a closed group model, and syncing up with the rhythms of nature this year, amplifying what has already been a nourishing and powerful experience for more than fifty women in the past couple years. Women have started signing up for the fall term with the early registration discount.Read more about the women’s circle here to see if it would be a good fit for you or to apply.
The other day, my 10-year-old asked if she could teach me how to paint wildflowers. While I am a person who delights in all forms of creativity, art has always been the most challenging for me. I can throw some colors on a piece of paper, but ask me to visually represent a specific object, and you’ll receive something that looks like a young child made it. My daughter, however, has taken many hours to master the art of small flower watercolor painting. As she demonstrated her techniques, I followed along but couldn’t quite get my messy blob petals to match her delicately formed ones. “Beautiful mistakes,” we decided to call my stray colors. “Because when you make a mistake, you can keep going and make something new and beautiful out of it.”
I try to be mindful of my language around this topic, as even the word “mistake” implies there is one right way you can get wrong. Some of us learned early: good girls follow directions. If you do what you’re told, you won’t stand out or get into trouble. We can hide behind this facade of who we think we’re supposed to be for decades. What starts as protection from criticism can easily become a cage with no room for individuality or creativity. Keeping up appearances by trying to stay inside the lines can drain our essential life force to near empty.
The old way, the way of perfectionism says:
Get it right the first time. Don’t make a mess. Don’t be a bother.
Really though, haven’t we had enough of this already? Life is messy! It just is. The artistry of my life–my decisions, the ways I fail, the ways I grow–doesn’t match the artistry of yours, and thank goodness! Our messes make us unique. I think of a flower with a torn petal. Shall we toss it to the wind for being imperfectly symmetrical, or will we cherish its fragile beauty?
If you’re someone who finds her/his/their self caught in this perfectionist prison, what would happen if you fell out of character once in a while? It can be scary to forgo the filter and start responding authentically. Being raw and real, even with self-consciousness, is a service though: we help other humans feel better about making mistakes and being seen too. When we forgive ourselves for not always getting it right, we don’t become more self-absorbed and narcissistic. We become more available.There is more of us to give to others when we’re not busy fighting ourselves.
Old patterns get entrenched and so often release slowly, with intentional practice. My personal practice lately has been about embracing with compassion, curiosity, and humor what I’ve been calling “life U-turns”. A life U-turn is when we get invested in a new idea for change and go full throttle towards it, only to say “never mind” some steps in. When we do a U-turn, we head back to where we came from with a different point of view. Was it a personal flaw that caused us to move toward that new direction in the first place? Was precious time wasted doing the wrong thing? Or is it possible the “mistake” re-affirmed some essential value we still hold, allowing what was too familiar to be discovered anew.
Mistakes clarify direction; coloring over the lines helps us think outside the box. I say “Hallelujah!” to this trial and error path forward. As we return to public life, what used to be commonplace feels novel and pretty bumpy. I hope to appreciate even the awkward moments, navigating new boundaries and getting used to each other again. Shall we give it a try, even with our differences? Slowly, let’s stumble forward and rediscover each other’s wholeness again.
Wishing you ever deepening breaths and the gift of seeing beauty in unexpected places,
If you’ve been curious about working together in 1-1 sessions, listening to the first 10-15 minutes of this recent podcast interview will give you a better idea of what my practice is like. If you listen further, you’ll also hear stories about how I became a therapist and what working as an interfaith hospice chaplain taught me. While the title of the interview is Grief and Loss, and we do talk quite a bit about death and dying, it’s also about embracing the inherent discomfort of change. Give a listen if you like!
The current season of the Release & Empower Women’s Circle is coming to a close, and we will be having our final closing ceremony next week. If you’re curious about joining us in the fall, check it out here. We’re going back to the closed group model so the women participating will get to dive deep with each other. We’ll also be syncing up with intention, ritual, and accountability in new ways, so stay tuned for more details by signing up for my mailing list.
Spring has arrived fully here in central Texas, with wildflowers sprinkling the meadows, trees bursting with green, and birds singing across the skies. Of course this spring feels different from years past, as the death that came through winter’s freeze presents itself starkly alongside the rebirth. The once proud agave cacti are heavy and drooping; browned palm trees struggle to stand while fallen branches rest defeated upon the ground. What’s fresh and new is intertwined with what has perished. Nature seems to be mirroring the paradox of our strange re-opening world, where excitement over returning to former freedoms goes hand-in-hand with the grief and uncertainty that remains.
If you feel both hopeful and unmotivated, depleted and on the brink of change these days, it doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong. You’re living through a complex time with complex emotions, and it’s not easy to move forward in ambiguity. Part of the challenge, as I see it, is we haven’t fully shifted out of modern culture’s warrior mentality towards growth. A plethora of personal development and wellness memes tell us to focus on what we want and manifest our truest desires. It’s empowering to realize how much we can affect change through awareness and intention. But as many of the cultures we destroyed and/or subjugated know, growth happens in cycles, with loss and gain inseparable. To support growth, we can observe what’s actually happening and learn to work with rather than against the natural forces more powerful than we are.
When we push too hard for what we want to happen, we may end up exhausted from the effort of trying. When we don’t do anything because we lack the energy, we may get stuck in hiding rather than take a risk. Perhaps there is another way, a way that accepts and intends, slows down and progresses. With spacious mind and generous heart, something both new and old may emerge, integrating where we’ve come from, where we want to go, and where we actually are.
I’m guessing if you’re reading this, there may be changes you desire for your life. It has been a long hard year, and being shut in and shut down has certainly clarified what’s not working. Maybe some of the changes you’re feeling called to are not quite happening, or perhaps you’re getting waylaid and pulled in unforeseen directions. When confused between growth and acceptance, rather than asking, “What’s wrong with me? Why isn’t this working? or Why do I feel this way?” a better question might be: “What is the very next step for now?”
The best thing I’ve done for myself lately was to take a day off to get lost in the woods. Wandering without trying to get anywhere, I feel free. It feels like true relief to trust the meandering path that shows itself rather than bushwhacking what might or might not be a shortcut. There is magic in following trails unknown, not trying to figure out the map. And all along the way, it helps to tell the whole truth–to one’s self more than anyone else. It helps to speak out loud to the trees, the river, the birds, or even the dry creek bed, “Show me the way and help me to trust it.”
I hope you’re being gentle with yourself these days, especially when there are more questions than answers. Top of the list for What I Can Do (a much shorter list than What I Am Not In Control Of) is the practice of being tender with the parts of us that are frustrated and confused. A few steps forward, however many back, I imagine that viewed from high above, together we walk the labyrinth of healing, getting closer in, moving farther out, yet somehow being led towards center.
Wishing you some vitality, inspiration, and peace each day, to receive deeply and share wildly,
Have you ever heard a fox cry? A week or so ago, I was in the hill country and heard what sounded like a child screaming, “Help!” in the night. It was a little disconcerting until we realized it was a fox. My friend and I responded by sounding out a similar cry. The more we called back, the closer the fox seemed to approach us. She came near but never all the way to where we stood. We continued to stay in conversation for a while though, until she moved on.
If this fox actually was crying for help, the help she needed was not for someone to go and rescue her. She seemed to find her own way eventually. Maybe she just needed to be heard, to know someone else was out there crying too. I feel a similar dynamic evolving in this next phase of the pandemic together. In the old paradigm, there were damsels in distress and rescuers. There were people in need and people who helped. This dichotomy was always false though. We carry both of these archetypes within us; we are each vulnerable and strong. Pretending there are some who have it all together and others who only fall apart has led to situations like the current mental health crisis for therapists and real burnout for healthcare professionals in general.
These are intense times, so if you’re not always doing so well, that seems about right to me. We’re not meant to feel always cozy and well in a sick and troubled society. We are meant to be uncomfortable as much as we are meant to be brave. Who says we have to be stoic about any of it? One of my favorite memories of last year was when I stepped outside one morning in Colorado and heard my dear friend and neighbor screaming at the top of her lungs on her front porch. I immediately responded with a loud roar of my own. We laughed about it when we saw each other later, but in the moment it just felt good to be in our own messiness and know we were not alone.
Being heard feels risky, I know. As a therapist, I’ve been well-trained to not show too much of myself, good or bad. Helping professionals are taught to be clear mirrors for others. We’re not supposed to fog up those mirrors with our own personhood. We hold space for other people, not take up space ourselves. I don’t buy it as a way to live a whole life though. I can express what’s within me in contexts I feel safe in, and also show up with presence, compassion, and my full attention for someone else. We all have gifts, and we all have burdens. There is room in this world for the humanity in us all. I’d like to shed all pretenses of “helpers” and “helped” and instead sing out loud with you the music that arises from our dashed dreams, our triumphs, our sorrows, and most of all, our love.
When we cry out like the fox and hear another’s cry too, it’s not just about venting. It’s about remembering: this life on earth didn’t come with a promise of feeling happy most of the time or everything working out a certain way. You’re not failing at that game. This life is an adventure of growth and change, an opportunity to feel and experience everything. Our stories are heroic tales of resilience. You’re here, and you’re doing it. We all are!
Please share your voice, and know I am rooting for you.
PS: If you are helping other beings through this pandemic, and you feel like more is going out than coming in for you, please check out the women’s Release & Empower Group.We have a few spaces open this month, with either month-to-month subscriptions or a nice discount if you make a three-month commitment to yourself. Also new, 10% of the group’s profits are being donated to grassroots community healing work led by BIPOC women. Current recipients include SanArte Healing & Cultura Clinic and Black Women’s Health Imperative. Help others and help yourself too.
“I feel so much permission to just be however I am in this group. The journaling, the movement, the breathing, the sharing–it’s all what I’ve been needing to do more of for myself and now I feel like I’m making room for it again. I feel so thankful for the women here, and know that as I am going through some changes in my life, this is just where I need to be.”
“This is an amazing experience. I don’t think anyone could come away from this unchanged.” -past workshop participant
We’re moving into 2021 folks, and if there was ever a time to take responsibility for loving ourselves, releasing the past, and stepping forward with courage, this is it. You may have already heard me talking about the Release & Empower Online Community, and if you’ve been curious, here’s a chance to try it out! With therapeutic writing, movement, music, and guided meditation, this FREE and ONLINE workshop is a mini-retreat to:
Start this year by honoring your own rhythms
Hear what’s really going on inside your being
Move and vocalize in ways that unleash what’s been held too tightly
Relax into a loving wholeness and receive the guidance you need
I’ve been living in the same neighborhood for ten years now, and given that I take a walk at least once a day, I’m pretty familiar with my surroundings. There’s the blue house with the big cactus out front, the little library around the corner, the “for sale by owner” sign two blocks away… you get the picture. Seeing the same things every day can, as you may well know, get a little monotonous. Yesterday though, it occurred to me that I could walk in a different direction. That sounds obvious, I know, but taking a left from my front door means crossing a busy street, so I never go that way. Yesterday however, I turned left, waited to cross the street, and found myself in a neighborhood I had never seen before.
Listen, it wasn’t as if I discovered Shangri-la. It’s just another neighborhood, right? But yesterday it felt like grace, getting happily lost on unfamiliar streets with new sights to see. Of course this mini-adventure only came about because I decided to quit walking around in the same circles and instead notice what was already there. I tell you this simple story that’s barely a story at all because it’s reminiscent of a message that keeps coming to me these days: enough already, and already it’s enough.
What have you had enough of already? I don’t just mean walking around in circles, the pandemic, politics, limitations on travel, zoom calls, etc. I mean what are you tiring of inside your own experience? Maybe it’s regretting the past, the “shoulda coulda woulda” internal conversation that never seems to resolve itself. Or maybe it’s complaining, comparing, blaming, guilting, or some other heavy pattern that has become so entrenched it’s easy to forget there is any other way to respond. What I’ve noticed in my own life, as well as in my experience supporting others through shadow work, is that if we get to know these patterns well, we can learn to recognize when they’ve taken hold, say “Enough already!” and experience a real shift. I’m not talking about some grand and fabulous transformation where you’re demanding a brand new you. Pushing yourself (or anyone else) into new awareness just does not work. What I’m talking about is, in your own time, finding the “no” that shows the way to your “yes”.
Take disappointment for example. If you’ve ever felt disappointed for a long stretch of time, whether that be by relationships, jobs, circumstances–you name it–you know that people and situations don’t always change and relieve you of feeling disappointed. If at some point, however, you say “enough already” and claim your needs as worthy of your own attention and love, no matter if the outside world fills them or not, you may feel a profound sense of power returning. When we acknowledge what didn’t happen and love who we are and what we have anyway… now that’s something new.
December is all about more, not less, in our modern culture. Yet here we are at the end of the fall season, a time when the trees lose the last of their leaves, and the sun sets into the darkening sky earlier each day. All is quieting, simplifying down only to what is most essential. This year we face limitations on our choices, and we grieve losses big and small. So I ask you, what still remains? What in your life is already enough?
I hope there is laughter in your tears and tears in your laughter in these changing times. We all could use some of both, I think. And thank you for reading these messages this year. May you find the courage and gentleness you need to keep going, no matter what.