Hello great peoples. This week I am thinking about Rejection, Withholding, and Sneezes. So, let's kick into gear and do it!
This week, Bill has received several rejection letters from agents in regards to his most recent novel he's currently sending out. Emotionally, he has come a long way in terms of coping with a process he has often considered frustrating and painful. I've seen him receive other letters of this nature and seen him take charge of his thoughts and emotions and simply not take himself to the bad place conclusion. This week, however, it was more challenging and he found himself , as I sometimes say, "at the bottom of the pond". He went with it. He went with the old thought that What He Wants is simply not to be. What could be more painful than that? And then, he started blaming himself, looking for the ways in which he has been "wrong" or had done something "wrong" because why else would he be "failing?"
Bill's pain wasn't the inevitable outcome of some rejection letters (as he's received others before and not been take so low), it was a result of rejecting himself at that moment and wanting to Control what was happening outside of him which leads one to a place of despair and feeling powerless.
This week, also, Sawyer took a somewhat unofficial, yet powerful stand against Moving his Bowels. And so, much of the week was spent with us as eye-witnesses to his dedicated state of Withholding. And it wasn't pretty a couple times, as there is only so much the body will tolerate before it starts to DEMAND you do the right thing by it. But still, he continued, until finally one day when Bill was arguing with him and asking that he sit upon the mighty throne once again, Sawyer howled out, "I AM GOING TO DO IT MY WAY!" I looked at Bill. There it was, couldn't be any clearer. Yes, of course, he has to do it his way, and of course he has to be in command, and of course, that is what every parent wants for their child -that the child take the reigns and lead themselves, guide themselves, trust themselves, make choices, decisions, pathways for themselves. Autonomy is the name of the game, always, in parenting, for one is always striving to help the child become more able to act independent of you. Here's the catch.
Sawyer's approach to obtaining a sense of Command was not unlike the approach many of us try. He decided to take charge by trying to Control SOMETHING. He chose a bodily function. But the problem was, the more he tried to Control, the more out of control he began to feel, and the more out of control the thing he was trying to control became. The sense of safety and command-over that he wanted became more and more elusive as what he really wanted was to feel his own authentic POWER not, actually, power over externals.
Both Bill and Sawyer wanted a sense of their own power, and both fell into a pattern of trying to control in order to feel it. Bill felt that the letters were standing between him and feeling good and so he inadvertently started rejecting the rejectors and then rejecting himself in order to gain some feeling of power. But rejecting himself just made him feel awful. Sawyer, also, wanted control over how he was feeling, but the tact he took was also a BATTLE AGAINST HIMSELF, and one which he was sure to lose.
Recently, I found myself thinking of an old song I used to listen to when I was a kid. It is a Barbra Streisand song in which she describes wanting diamonds, fancy gowns, hats with plumes etc. (as a child). And she determines that if she should sneeze, it will all come to her. So, she begs the powers that be to let her sneeze. Then, the song goes on to describe how time passes and she's realized she doesn't really want all those things. And she sings her decision, "Once I was slave to a sneeze, but sneezing it just a disease. A rose is a rose, and a nose, just a nose."
We often think that if we can just GET something, or STOP something from happening, or BE something different than we are, we will be happy. If we can just control the externals, we'll be able to feel good, finally. But that is just our "sneeze" we're waiting for. Whether it's rejection letters, or our body, or our child's behavior, or the way we look, or the way another person has responded to us, we're still a slave to waiting for something outside us, or trying to control something outside us in order to feel good.
Sawyer did it "his way" but of course, he could have done it his way and not put himself (and his body) under that stress.
So, this week, I want to do it my way, without putting myself under the stress of BATTLING AGAINST anything (myself included). And, in this way, THRIVE. And, of course, I wish the same for all of you!
Lots of love.
All is Well.
Jen
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Neutrality (written 5/21/07)
Hello wonderful people. I'm glad you're here! This week I'm thinking about Neutrality, Judging, and Folding Laundry. This week ONLY : 30% more relevant news!!! Come see!
I was grocery shopping the other day and feeling a little unwelcome in the world (I don't know - people just didn't seem friendly, I guess) when I came across a woman from the art store I go to sometimes. She works at the same store I used to many years ago, and my coworker from long ago, who still works there, has introduced us. I have spoken with her from time to time. Her name is Tina and I have never felt all that comfortable with her. She is an asian woman with long, thin black hair and a somewhat worn expression. And although she seems sweet, she can give off a kind of gruffness (what I've interpreted as dislike) and is very quiet.
So, here she was before me, carrying her grocery basket, me pushing my cart. I said, "Hi - I recognize you!" Uncomfortably she acknowledged me, but said nothing. I thought of saying something else to make the interaction feel more complete, but I thought it best to leave her alone. My mind began to race. It started with deciding the interaction was "bad" and branched out into the specifics of why I thought so. It seems I was assuming she doesn't like me, was actually unhappy to have to deal with me, thinks I'm a jerk, overly cheerful etc. As my mind started to DO THIS, I suddenly realized that I didn't have to. I could put myself in a more NEUTRAL position and see the interaction plainly. Here's where I started:
I DON'T KNOW TINA.
From there I allowed that thought to branch out. I don't know if she's shy, socially awkward, pre-occupied, hurt, scared, angry in general, confused, tired, worn out, ill, happy, perfectly fine, perfectly miserable. I don't know what she was thinking, feeling, or anything about her actual perceptions of me. I really couldn't say. Yes, I can guess. But there is always more to the story; there is always the balance. As I took the time to recognize this, something happened. The Interaction returned to its Original Neutral State and seemed benign. I ignored the urge to think those judgments and decided to just let it be NEUTRAL with no tags of interpretation or personalizing on it. And then, an interesting thing happened, I started to think about what I really wanted -which was to feel friendly and good with other people. And as my trip to the grocery store progressed I ended up interacting with this old Arab woman who was warm and enthusiastic and when I left, my checker said how much she had enjoyed talking with me. And I had enjoyed talking with her! And so there it was: I'd had the kind of experience I wanted, because instead of fixating on negative judgments on Tina (and me) and taking things PERSONALLY, I used my experience with her to help me focus on what I did want and allowed the original experience to sort of Fade Away. I just left it.
Here's another example:
Last night, Bill came to me and asked me to fold the laundry. I don't know if you remember from a previous JEN NEWS, but I've had some issues with folding the laundry - which is my job, but one that I prefer doing on my own volition with no outside prompting. It's very early in the week, so I'm not running behind, but it was already piling up. As per usual, I didn't like him coming to me. There seems to be a feeling of SHAME that overtakes me before anything else can be said, and then I'M MAD. At any rate, his innocent request was met with inner Annoyance and outward Cooperation. But as the evening wore on, I FORGOT. And at 10:30 I happened to enter the laundry room and REMEMBERED. Now I was really mad, because now I was tired, and now I was feeling VICTIMIZED. My throat tightened and this sense of Unreasonable Frustration seemed to urge me on to some form of babyish retaliation. So, the judgmental thoughts began - that would be my form of fighting back, with me the only victim (unless Bill had the unfortunate inclination to walk by).
I knew I didn't want to be in this frame of mind and remembering my Tina Experience,wondered how I could allow this experience to be NEUTRAL, also. And then it occurred to me: I had made Bill bad and wrong for asking, and then I'd gone on and made myself bad and wrong for forgetting. And the whole reason I had made Bill bad and wrong for asking was that I had made myself bad and wrong for some how not having ALREADY gotten to the laundry.
So, there it was.
Did there have to be anything actually bad and wrong about Bill asking? No. Did there have to be anything bad and wrong about me forgetting? No. And when I determined this, it allowed me to no longer PERSONALIZE the experience and leave behind any Emotional Charge. It wasn't a seamless transition from Snippy to Sublime, but I did understand that I have the power to influence my experience by resisting the urge to judge and allowing situations to NOT BE ABOUT ME, but instead, be USEFUL TO ME as a guide toward what I really want.
This week I'm going to strive not to judge things, for I'm finding my sense of power comes not from determining what's good or bad, but in determining what I want and working to create that.
All is Well.
Lots of Love,
Jen
I was grocery shopping the other day and feeling a little unwelcome in the world (I don't know - people just didn't seem friendly, I guess) when I came across a woman from the art store I go to sometimes. She works at the same store I used to many years ago, and my coworker from long ago, who still works there, has introduced us. I have spoken with her from time to time. Her name is Tina and I have never felt all that comfortable with her. She is an asian woman with long, thin black hair and a somewhat worn expression. And although she seems sweet, she can give off a kind of gruffness (what I've interpreted as dislike) and is very quiet.
So, here she was before me, carrying her grocery basket, me pushing my cart. I said, "Hi - I recognize you!" Uncomfortably she acknowledged me, but said nothing. I thought of saying something else to make the interaction feel more complete, but I thought it best to leave her alone. My mind began to race. It started with deciding the interaction was "bad" and branched out into the specifics of why I thought so. It seems I was assuming she doesn't like me, was actually unhappy to have to deal with me, thinks I'm a jerk, overly cheerful etc. As my mind started to DO THIS, I suddenly realized that I didn't have to. I could put myself in a more NEUTRAL position and see the interaction plainly. Here's where I started:
I DON'T KNOW TINA.
From there I allowed that thought to branch out. I don't know if she's shy, socially awkward, pre-occupied, hurt, scared, angry in general, confused, tired, worn out, ill, happy, perfectly fine, perfectly miserable. I don't know what she was thinking, feeling, or anything about her actual perceptions of me. I really couldn't say. Yes, I can guess. But there is always more to the story; there is always the balance. As I took the time to recognize this, something happened. The Interaction returned to its Original Neutral State and seemed benign. I ignored the urge to think those judgments and decided to just let it be NEUTRAL with no tags of interpretation or personalizing on it. And then, an interesting thing happened, I started to think about what I really wanted -which was to feel friendly and good with other people. And as my trip to the grocery store progressed I ended up interacting with this old Arab woman who was warm and enthusiastic and when I left, my checker said how much she had enjoyed talking with me. And I had enjoyed talking with her! And so there it was: I'd had the kind of experience I wanted, because instead of fixating on negative judgments on Tina (and me) and taking things PERSONALLY, I used my experience with her to help me focus on what I did want and allowed the original experience to sort of Fade Away. I just left it.
Here's another example:
Last night, Bill came to me and asked me to fold the laundry. I don't know if you remember from a previous JEN NEWS, but I've had some issues with folding the laundry - which is my job, but one that I prefer doing on my own volition with no outside prompting. It's very early in the week, so I'm not running behind, but it was already piling up. As per usual, I didn't like him coming to me. There seems to be a feeling of SHAME that overtakes me before anything else can be said, and then I'M MAD. At any rate, his innocent request was met with inner Annoyance and outward Cooperation. But as the evening wore on, I FORGOT. And at 10:30 I happened to enter the laundry room and REMEMBERED. Now I was really mad, because now I was tired, and now I was feeling VICTIMIZED. My throat tightened and this sense of Unreasonable Frustration seemed to urge me on to some form of babyish retaliation. So, the judgmental thoughts began - that would be my form of fighting back, with me the only victim (unless Bill had the unfortunate inclination to walk by).
I knew I didn't want to be in this frame of mind and remembering my Tina Experience,wondered how I could allow this experience to be NEUTRAL, also. And then it occurred to me: I had made Bill bad and wrong for asking, and then I'd gone on and made myself bad and wrong for forgetting. And the whole reason I had made Bill bad and wrong for asking was that I had made myself bad and wrong for some how not having ALREADY gotten to the laundry.
So, there it was.
Did there have to be anything actually bad and wrong about Bill asking? No. Did there have to be anything bad and wrong about me forgetting? No. And when I determined this, it allowed me to no longer PERSONALIZE the experience and leave behind any Emotional Charge. It wasn't a seamless transition from Snippy to Sublime, but I did understand that I have the power to influence my experience by resisting the urge to judge and allowing situations to NOT BE ABOUT ME, but instead, be USEFUL TO ME as a guide toward what I really want.
This week I'm going to strive not to judge things, for I'm finding my sense of power comes not from determining what's good or bad, but in determining what I want and working to create that.
All is Well.
Lots of Love,
Jen
The Perfect Decision (written 5/14/07)
Hello fellow travelers. This week NEWS is about Decisions and Allowing yourself to be happy. More complicated and seemingly challenging than one might imagine. So, put on a big SMILE and let's go! How bad could it be?
Max's 12th birthday is coming up and we asked him how he would like to celebrate. Out of the gate, he said he did not want to celebrate it at all. Not just no party - no cake or ice cream. He was willing to concede on receiving presents. As is Max's way, as time passed, however, he reconsidered his original "NO". And once he started reconsidering his "No", he has clearly been overwhelmed with the possibilities and choices and seemingly daunting nature of making a DECISION. And so we've heard some "Yes's" and many "No's". We, as parents, have remained very quiet, and we have made varied suggestions. We have watched coins be tossed, tears flow; we've heard cries of exasperation and final declarations that it is too "complicated" "too much work" "too confusing" "too hard" and even, "Impossible".
On the drawing board, Max has "hosted" birthday parties to Game Works (a video game arcade), Seattle Center (amusement park), he has taken all his friends to a movie, and he has had a simple run-of -the-mill style party at home. But the one thing all these ideas have in common is Max's extreme angst over choosing any of them. The Decision seemed daunting and allowing us to decide, equally impossible.
Finally, this past weekend, I decided I wanted to help Max MAKE A DECISION. I wanted Max to have the experience of Listening to Himself, trusting his own guidance and know the feeling of being capable of making a decision. I felt that even though I'd thrown out suggestions and tried to be of use, that I'd never really supported him in figuring it out for himself, confidently. So, I focused with all my might on this objective and together we walked through the subject until we could access what he wanted, and TRUST whatever came. He arrived at a home-based party, with more invitees than I'd guessed he'd want, and some fun games and things to do. It was over. Max was finally able to ALLOW what he wanted, take a chance, and let it go. The invitations go out today.
Here's another tale of allowing the good and letting go, but from another angle.
A little less than a month ago, we started a new incentives program for Sawyer. If he stays on task and focused and does his homework on his own, he earns what we call a "Focus Medal". I started this program in the hopes that it would build on his confidence around his schoolwork and his capability to do it on his own. He's been very motivated by it, as the deal is that when he earns fifteen medals, he can get a toy of (pre)specified price.
Well, by this past Saturday, he was up to twelve focus medals. Amazingly close! However, because there's no homework on the weekends, he complained that he had no opportunity to earn more and get the toy sooner. In order to circumnavigate this glitch, he decided to ask for "Claw Crusher" - a cheaper toy that he believed should only require twelve medals. We suggested instead that he could do some math worksheets at home, earn the rest of the medals and get "Claw Crusher" (not a more expensive toy - as the last medals were not earned by homework). Off he went! Focus, focus, focus (one would never know this was the child who regularly drapes his tired and fit-throwing body over me in reaction to school work).
The next day, we took him to Toys R Us - a trip that should have been triumphant. Yes?
Upon arriving , he grabbed a more expensive toy off the shelf and told us he had changed his mind. When we explained that the deal was for "Claw Crusher", the tears began, the red face began, the overly-loud-attention-grabbing voice began. Eventually, we managed to extricate ourselves and our child from the store (Jeffrey the Giraffe was there!). Sawyer spoke much of failing, of not getting what he wanted, of us not allowing him "success". I pointed out that he'd had a plan - to get "Claw Crusher" and that he got it! What could define success more clearly? If one defines success as Getting What You Want, didn't he succeed? Ah, but the second he could have the experience of Success, his mind raced ahead and changed the terms - it was onto the next thing and so now, getting what was once wanted was no longer indicative of Success. Now the previously coveted Claw Crusher was CRAP! But was it really?
Upon arriving home, he built his toy and began playing with it joyously.
Here's my point, and I do have one, I think: Both the boys wanted their DECISIONS to make them HAPPY, but in the end, it was up to them to either Allow those decisions to serve them or not. It didn't matter whether Max chose a trip to an amusement park, or had one kid over or ten, it all had to do not with his Decision of place/time/people but with his Decision to be happy, to take a chance, and to trust. And the same goes for Sawyer - the other toy would have brought him no more joy, so why all the pain? It was because, in the moment of RECEIVING WHAT HE WANTED, he saw the next new thing he thought might be "better" and did not trust and allow himself to be happy with what he had in the moment, as well as dreaming the new dream.
So, the perfect Decision is only perfect if you decide it is so and when you decide that, Happy can't help but follow - because you've allowed it in.
Have a great week everyone!
All is Well.
Lots of love,
Jen
Max's 12th birthday is coming up and we asked him how he would like to celebrate. Out of the gate, he said he did not want to celebrate it at all. Not just no party - no cake or ice cream. He was willing to concede on receiving presents. As is Max's way, as time passed, however, he reconsidered his original "NO". And once he started reconsidering his "No", he has clearly been overwhelmed with the possibilities and choices and seemingly daunting nature of making a DECISION. And so we've heard some "Yes's" and many "No's". We, as parents, have remained very quiet, and we have made varied suggestions. We have watched coins be tossed, tears flow; we've heard cries of exasperation and final declarations that it is too "complicated" "too much work" "too confusing" "too hard" and even, "Impossible".
On the drawing board, Max has "hosted" birthday parties to Game Works (a video game arcade), Seattle Center (amusement park), he has taken all his friends to a movie, and he has had a simple run-of -the-mill style party at home. But the one thing all these ideas have in common is Max's extreme angst over choosing any of them. The Decision seemed daunting and allowing us to decide, equally impossible.
Finally, this past weekend, I decided I wanted to help Max MAKE A DECISION. I wanted Max to have the experience of Listening to Himself, trusting his own guidance and know the feeling of being capable of making a decision. I felt that even though I'd thrown out suggestions and tried to be of use, that I'd never really supported him in figuring it out for himself, confidently. So, I focused with all my might on this objective and together we walked through the subject until we could access what he wanted, and TRUST whatever came. He arrived at a home-based party, with more invitees than I'd guessed he'd want, and some fun games and things to do. It was over. Max was finally able to ALLOW what he wanted, take a chance, and let it go. The invitations go out today.
Here's another tale of allowing the good and letting go, but from another angle.
A little less than a month ago, we started a new incentives program for Sawyer. If he stays on task and focused and does his homework on his own, he earns what we call a "Focus Medal". I started this program in the hopes that it would build on his confidence around his schoolwork and his capability to do it on his own. He's been very motivated by it, as the deal is that when he earns fifteen medals, he can get a toy of (pre)specified price.
Well, by this past Saturday, he was up to twelve focus medals. Amazingly close! However, because there's no homework on the weekends, he complained that he had no opportunity to earn more and get the toy sooner. In order to circumnavigate this glitch, he decided to ask for "Claw Crusher" - a cheaper toy that he believed should only require twelve medals. We suggested instead that he could do some math worksheets at home, earn the rest of the medals and get "Claw Crusher" (not a more expensive toy - as the last medals were not earned by homework). Off he went! Focus, focus, focus (one would never know this was the child who regularly drapes his tired and fit-throwing body over me in reaction to school work).
The next day, we took him to Toys R Us - a trip that should have been triumphant. Yes?
Upon arriving , he grabbed a more expensive toy off the shelf and told us he had changed his mind. When we explained that the deal was for "Claw Crusher", the tears began, the red face began, the overly-loud-attention-grabbing voice began. Eventually, we managed to extricate ourselves and our child from the store (Jeffrey the Giraffe was there!). Sawyer spoke much of failing, of not getting what he wanted, of us not allowing him "success". I pointed out that he'd had a plan - to get "Claw Crusher" and that he got it! What could define success more clearly? If one defines success as Getting What You Want, didn't he succeed? Ah, but the second he could have the experience of Success, his mind raced ahead and changed the terms - it was onto the next thing and so now, getting what was once wanted was no longer indicative of Success. Now the previously coveted Claw Crusher was CRAP! But was it really?
Upon arriving home, he built his toy and began playing with it joyously.
Here's my point, and I do have one, I think: Both the boys wanted their DECISIONS to make them HAPPY, but in the end, it was up to them to either Allow those decisions to serve them or not. It didn't matter whether Max chose a trip to an amusement park, or had one kid over or ten, it all had to do not with his Decision of place/time/people but with his Decision to be happy, to take a chance, and to trust. And the same goes for Sawyer - the other toy would have brought him no more joy, so why all the pain? It was because, in the moment of RECEIVING WHAT HE WANTED, he saw the next new thing he thought might be "better" and did not trust and allow himself to be happy with what he had in the moment, as well as dreaming the new dream.
So, the perfect Decision is only perfect if you decide it is so and when you decide that, Happy can't help but follow - because you've allowed it in.
Have a great week everyone!
All is Well.
Lots of love,
Jen
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Let the Good Come
Hellllooooo you cuties. Yes, you - overtired, grumpy, slightly irritable - adorable you! Or: You well-rested, vibrant, good-natured, go-with-the-flow YOU! Take your pick. You're all cute.
This week I'm thinking about Over-thinking, Good Deals, Checking, and the Power of Decision (again). Let's hop to!
I had two dreams this past week that seem to be working off of a similar theme. I won't tell the whole of them here (thank me later), but the gist is - in both dreams- I am in a store, ready to get a GREAT deal on something. The great deal involves a huge Sale (50% to 90% off!!) on certain items. But when it comes time to get checked out, by the checker person, that person always seems to cause me trouble. In one dream, the woman questions the value of the product, implying it is "ridiculous" and "doesn't work". In another dream, I am put in a position of having to have my purchases literally weighed by three different checkers, after having stood in three different lines. It is a long and seemingly pointless process which I announce to everyone around me. "What's the point," I ask, "of having three different people weigh the same things over again?" But double-checking for accuracy and certainty is the point and the "CHECKERS" are quite committed to this.
I recognize my MENTAL INCLINATIONS in both these dreams. Here, I am given a chance to have GOOD come to me easily with little investment on my part (represented by the remarkable sales) and yet I feel inclined to , at the moment of getting, check and double-check, think and over-think, and WEIGH the situation over and over again (as represented by the CHECKERS). And this is a drag; it slows me down, takes away the fun and I am left waiting longer than need be to get what I really want. Too Much Thinking! Here's another example from my other life - the one I have when I'm technically awake.
On Saturday I held a vague plan to drive downtown to the Olympic Park Sculpture Garden. I've never been there and had been told about it ( and will be going this week) and I thought it would be fun to go with the kids and Bill. I left off working fairly early so that we could leave right after lunch. But upon entering and making this proposal, Max fell into a Great State of Despair. And it wasn't to end for a LONG TIME. There were tears, proclamations of unfairness, of not wanting to go, of it being all wrong - culminating in him Googling the park and studying pictures of all the sculptures until he determined (now with evidence) that going would, in fact, be a disaster. He said something to the effect of, "I can understand how you wouldn't accept my saying 'No' before, but now I KNOW what it is and I WILL be bored!"
All right then, he had checked and re-checked, studied and re-studied until he'd managed to pound all hope of the possible pleasure of a drive to a new park on a fairly sunny day, out of existence. From another corner of the house came Sawyer's proclamation of "No" as well. But he didn't need research, he just declared that he wanted to stay home and play (something he'd been doing for the previous five to six hours). At this moment, I allowed Frustration to saddle me up and ride me around like a pony in a parade. It wasn't pretty. Bill, too, allowed himself to suffer with the situation.
We talked and talked, engaging in a low-level argument/debate with Max until finally I determined it just wasn't to be. Then, Max, engaged, clearly, in his own internal battle, came back with his coat zipped up and hood on, saying he would go. A resounding "No" echoed once more from Sawyer.
And so it went with each person then proposing their idea of what they wanted to do. Sawyer wanted to play frisbee; Max wanted to go for a run with Bill at the track. I wanted to jump off a cliff . So many different inclinations!
Why do I bring this all up? I don't know, but my guess is that I'm making the link of Over-thinking, checking and re-checking and how that can create such a feeling of being entrenched and unable to move forward. Of course Decision is always what moves energy, people, and events. But a Decision of "No" which is not then followed by a Decision of "Yes" does nothing more than keep us stuck. Even though Max's reluctant "Yes" was followed by Sawyer's vibrant "No", it did lead to more "Yes's" . Max said "Yes" to running at the track, Sawyer said "Yes" to going OUT to the track with Bill and Max. And I decided to say "Yes" to going back to the work I had left off prematurely . And with all these "Yes's" came a restoration of balance and MOVEMENT. And soon, we all liked each again!
So, my conclusion is this: Let the Good Come Easily to you, without checking and re-checking, weighing everything out, just let the Good Come in whatever form (whether it's a trip to the sculpture garden, or an opportunity to work on your own). It is here for us, but only as soon as we say, "Yes".
Thanks guys.
All is Well.
Lots of love,
Jen
This week I'm thinking about Over-thinking, Good Deals, Checking, and the Power of Decision (again). Let's hop to!
I had two dreams this past week that seem to be working off of a similar theme. I won't tell the whole of them here (thank me later), but the gist is - in both dreams- I am in a store, ready to get a GREAT deal on something. The great deal involves a huge Sale (50% to 90% off!!) on certain items. But when it comes time to get checked out, by the checker person, that person always seems to cause me trouble. In one dream, the woman questions the value of the product, implying it is "ridiculous" and "doesn't work". In another dream, I am put in a position of having to have my purchases literally weighed by three different checkers, after having stood in three different lines. It is a long and seemingly pointless process which I announce to everyone around me. "What's the point," I ask, "of having three different people weigh the same things over again?" But double-checking for accuracy and certainty is the point and the "CHECKERS" are quite committed to this.
I recognize my MENTAL INCLINATIONS in both these dreams. Here, I am given a chance to have GOOD come to me easily with little investment on my part (represented by the remarkable sales) and yet I feel inclined to , at the moment of getting, check and double-check, think and over-think, and WEIGH the situation over and over again (as represented by the CHECKERS). And this is a drag; it slows me down, takes away the fun and I am left waiting longer than need be to get what I really want. Too Much Thinking! Here's another example from my other life - the one I have when I'm technically awake.
On Saturday I held a vague plan to drive downtown to the Olympic Park Sculpture Garden. I've never been there and had been told about it ( and will be going this week) and I thought it would be fun to go with the kids and Bill. I left off working fairly early so that we could leave right after lunch. But upon entering and making this proposal, Max fell into a Great State of Despair. And it wasn't to end for a LONG TIME. There were tears, proclamations of unfairness, of not wanting to go, of it being all wrong - culminating in him Googling the park and studying pictures of all the sculptures until he determined (now with evidence) that going would, in fact, be a disaster. He said something to the effect of, "I can understand how you wouldn't accept my saying 'No' before, but now I KNOW what it is and I WILL be bored!"
All right then, he had checked and re-checked, studied and re-studied until he'd managed to pound all hope of the possible pleasure of a drive to a new park on a fairly sunny day, out of existence. From another corner of the house came Sawyer's proclamation of "No" as well. But he didn't need research, he just declared that he wanted to stay home and play (something he'd been doing for the previous five to six hours). At this moment, I allowed Frustration to saddle me up and ride me around like a pony in a parade. It wasn't pretty. Bill, too, allowed himself to suffer with the situation.
We talked and talked, engaging in a low-level argument/debate with Max until finally I determined it just wasn't to be. Then, Max, engaged, clearly, in his own internal battle, came back with his coat zipped up and hood on, saying he would go. A resounding "No" echoed once more from Sawyer.
And so it went with each person then proposing their idea of what they wanted to do. Sawyer wanted to play frisbee; Max wanted to go for a run with Bill at the track. I wanted to jump off a cliff . So many different inclinations!
Why do I bring this all up? I don't know, but my guess is that I'm making the link of Over-thinking, checking and re-checking and how that can create such a feeling of being entrenched and unable to move forward. Of course Decision is always what moves energy, people, and events. But a Decision of "No" which is not then followed by a Decision of "Yes" does nothing more than keep us stuck. Even though Max's reluctant "Yes" was followed by Sawyer's vibrant "No", it did lead to more "Yes's" . Max said "Yes" to running at the track, Sawyer said "Yes" to going OUT to the track with Bill and Max. And I decided to say "Yes" to going back to the work I had left off prematurely . And with all these "Yes's" came a restoration of balance and MOVEMENT. And soon, we all liked each again!
So, my conclusion is this: Let the Good Come Easily to you, without checking and re-checking, weighing everything out, just let the Good Come in whatever form (whether it's a trip to the sculpture garden, or an opportunity to work on your own). It is here for us, but only as soon as we say, "Yes".
Thanks guys.
All is Well.
Lots of love,
Jen
The Decision (written 4/30/07)
Hi Everyone. Sorry I missed last week's NEWS - I got caught up in things and decided not to write. The biggest event-type- thing that happened this week was the Launch Party (at a Bookstore) for Violet Bing and the Grand House. This happened this past Saturday evening and went great. I had the opportunity to talk about how Violet Bing and the story evolved as well as read and sign books.
This week, I'd like to talk about Choice, Decision, Intention and some thoughts I have about where Confidence comes from. So, let's all put on our best outfits and look smart - here we go!
While preparing for the Launch Party , I was ruminating over what I wanted it to be like, but even more to the point How I Wanted To Feel during it . I decided that if I could, I wanted to step out of the realm of anxiety and feel Calm and confident and relax with what was happening . This was my goal. I kept it in mind all week and when the evening came, I could fee l some impulse to become nervous, but strangely, I was able to choose another path. When I felt that impulse, I reminded myself of my intention and just my intention, alone, seemed to calm me. I could feel me very deliberately making these choices and how they really weren't all that hard to do. When it came time to talk before everyone, I was able to continue with this Decision. And that's all it was: a Decision.
Since then, I've been thinking about it and wanting to implement this approach all the time. But I started worrying that I would never be able to do it again. But then I thought " If I could do it then, why now always?". There is nothing that dictates I absolutely must feel a certain way in any particular situation. What kind of insane power might I tap into if I actually use my ability to Decide?!
Recently, Max was sitting at the dinner table, eating, when he suddenly clutched his stomach and told us he was in too much pain to continue. Max tends to be dramatic so we've had to learn to minimize our reactions (although we are not always so successful at this). He felt we should probably take him to the hospital. I began by asking him questions about when it had started. He told me three days earlier. I asked if he was always in this pain or if it came and went. He said always. I asked where exactly the pain was, if it hurt with pressure, if he thought it felt deeper inside him or closer to the surface. Finally, I asked if he's been doing sit-ups in gym class. He said "yes". I then asked when he began them. He said three days earlier. I explained the impact a sit-up can have on an untrained abdomen, and how that impact can be felt for several days. He was greatly surprised but extremely relieved. A day or so later, I checked in with him and asked how his stomach was feeling. He said it was a lot better and he told me that it had pretty much stopped bothering him as soon as he knew what it was.
Now, here's what I'm thinking. Once, he determined that he didn't HAVE to feel frightened, anxious, upset, he relaxed and the pain ceased to be an issue - and for all intents and purposes, it went away. Once he DECIDED there was no threat, nothing he needed to fight or run from, it was over: his distress was over. This is, I believe, what happens when we Decide (in terms of anything) that we don't HAVE to be afraid - that we are safe, that we can feel Calm - those feelings are then allowed in, we register them in our bodies and minds, and we gain greater CONFIDENCE that all is, in fact, WELL. And then, low and behold, we begin to create what we are actually wanting.
So, apparently, from my field-work, I can deduce that the DECISION is in our hands. I want to practice making it for my own good and see what other unwanted distress might just disappear - like Max's pain.
Hope you all had a great week!
Lots of love.
All is Well.
Jen
This week, I'd like to talk about Choice, Decision, Intention and some thoughts I have about where Confidence comes from. So, let's all put on our best outfits and look smart - here we go!
While preparing for the Launch Party , I was ruminating over what I wanted it to be like, but even more to the point How I Wanted To Feel during it . I decided that if I could, I wanted to step out of the realm of anxiety and feel Calm and confident and relax with what was happening . This was my goal. I kept it in mind all week and when the evening came, I could fee l some impulse to become nervous, but strangely, I was able to choose another path. When I felt that impulse, I reminded myself of my intention and just my intention, alone, seemed to calm me. I could feel me very deliberately making these choices and how they really weren't all that hard to do. When it came time to talk before everyone, I was able to continue with this Decision. And that's all it was: a Decision.
Since then, I've been thinking about it and wanting to implement this approach all the time. But I started worrying that I would never be able to do it again. But then I thought " If I could do it then, why now always?". There is nothing that dictates I absolutely must feel a certain way in any particular situation. What kind of insane power might I tap into if I actually use my ability to Decide?!
Recently, Max was sitting at the dinner table, eating, when he suddenly clutched his stomach and told us he was in too much pain to continue. Max tends to be dramatic so we've had to learn to minimize our reactions (although we are not always so successful at this). He felt we should probably take him to the hospital. I began by asking him questions about when it had started. He told me three days earlier. I asked if he was always in this pain or if it came and went. He said always. I asked where exactly the pain was, if it hurt with pressure, if he thought it felt deeper inside him or closer to the surface. Finally, I asked if he's been doing sit-ups in gym class. He said "yes". I then asked when he began them. He said three days earlier. I explained the impact a sit-up can have on an untrained abdomen, and how that impact can be felt for several days. He was greatly surprised but extremely relieved. A day or so later, I checked in with him and asked how his stomach was feeling. He said it was a lot better and he told me that it had pretty much stopped bothering him as soon as he knew what it was.
Now, here's what I'm thinking. Once, he determined that he didn't HAVE to feel frightened, anxious, upset, he relaxed and the pain ceased to be an issue - and for all intents and purposes, it went away. Once he DECIDED there was no threat, nothing he needed to fight or run from, it was over: his distress was over. This is, I believe, what happens when we Decide (in terms of anything) that we don't HAVE to be afraid - that we are safe, that we can feel Calm - those feelings are then allowed in, we register them in our bodies and minds, and we gain greater CONFIDENCE that all is, in fact, WELL. And then, low and behold, we begin to create what we are actually wanting.
So, apparently, from my field-work, I can deduce that the DECISION is in our hands. I want to practice making it for my own good and see what other unwanted distress might just disappear - like Max's pain.
Hope you all had a great week!
Lots of love.
All is Well.
Jen
It's Safe (written 4/16/07)
Hi, this week's JEN NEWS is about The Usefulness of HIVES and Going Forward .
So get the calamine and come on!
About a year ago, Bill was going through a big transition. He realized he hadn't been writing the kinds of stories he most wanted to write and had, unconsciously, curtailed himself in what he allowed himself to explore. One day he junked the book he was working on and struggling with, and started writing a new book that was what he was really interested in. For him, at that time, it felt like an enormous risk . He had, unconsciously, made up rules of how he had to write and what it had to be like in order to be "right". Inadvertently he'd set up a dynamic in which he had to deny many of his own drives and interests in order to be "successful" or to think he stood a chance at being successful. So, when he began writing his new book and freeing himself, it felt somewhat radical and dangerous to him, as though the thing someone had told him he should never tell, he was now blurting out all over the place.
Then, one day, he wrote a line that, apparently, was deeply symbolic of revealing this truth he had once believed he was never supposed to reveal. Writing this line was shaking to him. Soon thereafter, his body began to react. He got a hives-like rash on his arms and part of his torso, his ears turned red, and eventually, the "thing" landed around his eyes like the Lone Ranger's mask and made him puff up, peel , and scale for about a week. But all through it, he never went to the doctor, for his instinct told him, that, energetically, he had just removed a mask he had been insisting he wear for his whole life, and now his fear of this exposure was overtaking him. Eventually, his face stopped peeling off, his neck and ears calmed down and all returned to normal - once he had integrated the new information: that he was daring to move forward as himself.
Last Spring, Max was wrapping up elementary school and was preparing to go on to Middle School. He seemed to be handling it okay, when, as the days passed, his skin began erupting. I looked under his shirt and found his back covered with welts. He looked like he had been whipped. I recognized them as hives and watched as hour after hour, they would retreat and return, and show up in new places. All the while, he insisted he was fine and that they always calmed down when he got to school. I went with it for several days, hoping to see evidence of them retreating completely, when one day, his lip ballooned out. He looked so god-awful, so distorted, his back was still a mess, and his feet were swollen. I did not want to send him to school. Again, he insisted (although this time with screaming) that once he got to school it would be okay. It was then that I understood what was going on: he was afraid of the change of leaving his usual schedule. It wasn't so much that he loved the school and was torn about leaving it; he was afraid of the disruption of schedule and loss of order that he was USED to - the same old same old. So, every time he returned to school, his body would calm down because his emotions settled because they had their usual scheduled order, and when he returned home, thoughts and feelings of being without this schedule would fill him (consciously or unconsciously) and his body would go into its "allergic" reaction to the news, again.
That day we talked about leaps of faith and going into new things without knowing what is to come, and his body no longer had any need to react to the news with such panic.
Most recently, Sawyer has been going through a similar dynamic. It started several weeks ago when his special ed teacher let us know how "away" he had been - meaning he was in his head, pretending and difficult, if not impossible, to reach. When he arrived home that day, we witnessed his being more "away" than we had in a very long time. Bill and I hung in there, although it was so distressing, because we've seen Sawyer go into a big "retreat" at times when he is about to take another leap in his development. It almost seems like he is being pushed (from the inside and out) to change and grow and he becomes fearful and so leans on old more extreme habits of "being away" for comfort.
Soon after, he broke out in hives. Just as those had pretty much gone away, a new batch arrived only this time with a vengeance. His face ballooned out, his feat ballooned out, his neck, his arms, his back and torso; it was like a wave of energy rushing through him. One moment, his face looked battered, the next, it was much calmer, but his neck had a web of red on it. And so on. And this has been going on for several days now. Yesterday, his feet were so swollen he said he couldn't walk, but by evening, he was walking; today he says they are only bothering him a little. There is an urge, as a parent, to panic (and leap into action), but the truth, that I'm discovering is, it is always FAITH that soothes; it is always TRUST that calms and the willingness to ride the waves knowing they will be okay is what transfers to the children the information they are most desperate to receive: THEY ARE SAFE. And IT IS SAFE FOR THEM TO GO FORWARD.
So, there it is. It is safe for you to go forward - in whatever area of your life is now presenting itself - as YOURSELF for yourself.
I hope this letter finds you all doing great.
Much Love.
All is Well,
Jen
So get the calamine and come on!
About a year ago, Bill was going through a big transition. He realized he hadn't been writing the kinds of stories he most wanted to write and had, unconsciously, curtailed himself in what he allowed himself to explore. One day he junked the book he was working on and struggling with, and started writing a new book that was what he was really interested in. For him, at that time, it felt like an enormous risk . He had, unconsciously, made up rules of how he had to write and what it had to be like in order to be "right". Inadvertently he'd set up a dynamic in which he had to deny many of his own drives and interests in order to be "successful" or to think he stood a chance at being successful. So, when he began writing his new book and freeing himself, it felt somewhat radical and dangerous to him, as though the thing someone had told him he should never tell, he was now blurting out all over the place.
Then, one day, he wrote a line that, apparently, was deeply symbolic of revealing this truth he had once believed he was never supposed to reveal. Writing this line was shaking to him. Soon thereafter, his body began to react. He got a hives-like rash on his arms and part of his torso, his ears turned red, and eventually, the "thing" landed around his eyes like the Lone Ranger's mask and made him puff up, peel , and scale for about a week. But all through it, he never went to the doctor, for his instinct told him, that, energetically, he had just removed a mask he had been insisting he wear for his whole life, and now his fear of this exposure was overtaking him. Eventually, his face stopped peeling off, his neck and ears calmed down and all returned to normal - once he had integrated the new information: that he was daring to move forward as himself.
Last Spring, Max was wrapping up elementary school and was preparing to go on to Middle School. He seemed to be handling it okay, when, as the days passed, his skin began erupting. I looked under his shirt and found his back covered with welts. He looked like he had been whipped. I recognized them as hives and watched as hour after hour, they would retreat and return, and show up in new places. All the while, he insisted he was fine and that they always calmed down when he got to school. I went with it for several days, hoping to see evidence of them retreating completely, when one day, his lip ballooned out. He looked so god-awful, so distorted, his back was still a mess, and his feet were swollen. I did not want to send him to school. Again, he insisted (although this time with screaming) that once he got to school it would be okay. It was then that I understood what was going on: he was afraid of the change of leaving his usual schedule. It wasn't so much that he loved the school and was torn about leaving it; he was afraid of the disruption of schedule and loss of order that he was USED to - the same old same old. So, every time he returned to school, his body would calm down because his emotions settled because they had their usual scheduled order, and when he returned home, thoughts and feelings of being without this schedule would fill him (consciously or unconsciously) and his body would go into its "allergic" reaction to the news, again.
That day we talked about leaps of faith and going into new things without knowing what is to come, and his body no longer had any need to react to the news with such panic.
Most recently, Sawyer has been going through a similar dynamic. It started several weeks ago when his special ed teacher let us know how "away" he had been - meaning he was in his head, pretending and difficult, if not impossible, to reach. When he arrived home that day, we witnessed his being more "away" than we had in a very long time. Bill and I hung in there, although it was so distressing, because we've seen Sawyer go into a big "retreat" at times when he is about to take another leap in his development. It almost seems like he is being pushed (from the inside and out) to change and grow and he becomes fearful and so leans on old more extreme habits of "being away" for comfort.
Soon after, he broke out in hives. Just as those had pretty much gone away, a new batch arrived only this time with a vengeance. His face ballooned out, his feat ballooned out, his neck, his arms, his back and torso; it was like a wave of energy rushing through him. One moment, his face looked battered, the next, it was much calmer, but his neck had a web of red on it. And so on. And this has been going on for several days now. Yesterday, his feet were so swollen he said he couldn't walk, but by evening, he was walking; today he says they are only bothering him a little. There is an urge, as a parent, to panic (and leap into action), but the truth, that I'm discovering is, it is always FAITH that soothes; it is always TRUST that calms and the willingness to ride the waves knowing they will be okay is what transfers to the children the information they are most desperate to receive: THEY ARE SAFE. And IT IS SAFE FOR THEM TO GO FORWARD.
So, there it is. It is safe for you to go forward - in whatever area of your life is now presenting itself - as YOURSELF for yourself.
I hope this letter finds you all doing great.
Much Love.
All is Well,
Jen
Nothing There (written 4/9/07)
Howdy! The emotional terrain's been tricky, but I want to keep going! Here's what's on my mind this week: To Suffer or not to Suffer and Letting it Go. Here we go!
To Suffer or Not to Suffer. . . .
About eight years ago, Bill and I were looking at houses, hoping we'd be able to buy one. At the time, we were living in a TownHouse apartment which was quite nice, but only had two rooms, and we'd just had Sawyer. The search was not so easy as we didn't have an inordinate amount of money to work with, and we didn't want to move far away from the area we liked. At one point, Bill had gone out with the real estate agent and returned excited. They'd seen the most spacious house so far, in good shape - it wouldn't need any fixing up at all. It had a large yard etc. Bill pressed me to go and see it soon, as he felt we were under some pressure to act. And so we went.
As soon as we arrived, my heart sank. There was nothing beautiful about this house, but then, perhaps, we couldn't be so choosy. We went inside - as Bill showed me how perfectly fine the whole house was and I saw, for myself, how much room there was, and even when I went downstairs to the basement which was large and bright and would be right for my studio space -I was feeling a heaviness that was becoming unbearable. Gradually, it was getting more and more painful for me to be there. My mind understood how this house fit the description of what we were needing and looking for, but my emotional self was completely overwhelmed and upset. Finally, almost unable to breath, I left with them and once we got in the car, I burst into tears. I had felt something in that house that was so strong and so unhappy I could barely stand it - never mind, buy it and live in it. Neither Bill nor the real estate woman had felt it.
Later, we found out a little about the house. The man who was selling it - a strange, depressed sort (as described by Bill) had lived just down the street from his parents who had lived there since it had first been built. They had also died there. As my memory recalls, there was implication that either one or both had suffered a hard, prolonged illness there.
This story came back to me yesterday when I was considering the emotional struggles/patterns I routinely return to. I realized that when I feel upset or uncomfortable about something, about ANYTHING, I am making a choice to Suffer it. And when I make that choice, I am saying, in essence, "I know being in that 'place' makes me feel awful, makes me hurt, fills me with pain and discomfort, but I must go back in there!" Just like that house. Except that I would never have asked myself to even WALK past that house again, but in terms of My House of Emotional Misery, I am willing to send my Self back in there again and again. And I tell myself I must go back "in there" because I believe that by enduring the distress, I will end the pain, conquer it and become strong enough to never feel it again. But it is not our job to think negative and painful thoughts and then attract negative, painful experiences that we then have to endure and prove ourselves through. It's our job to create what is loving and nurturing, to take care of ourselves.
Now I ask myself , "How long do you want to suffer this?"
Because the decision is in my hands. And if the answer is, "No more" then I must say, "I'm done." and I don't get to send my energy, my Self, my spirit back into that painful place. No matter how much I think I "have" to feel that way, or think that way, I decide NOT to follow and develop those trains of thought that are so painful, knowing now that it is the emotional distress, itself, that is cluing me in that I am on the wrong track.
Every now and I again, I have dreams of losing my teeth. And they're quite dramatic - a lot of screaming and panicking - usually it's a few teeth or just one. There is always a sense of disbelief. In one tooth dream, I was very upset, holding the teeth in my hand, still somewhat panicked, when I became LUCID. I said to myself - "I think this is a dream. If this is a dream, when I open my hand and drop these teeth, nothing will hit the floor." And that's what I did, and nothing hit the floor. And I knew and I awoke.
I think that in life, when we let go of what we're so afraid of, of suffering the "evidence" of it, we realize there was nothing there in the first place. I think that choosing not to Suffer With, to calm yourself, to open your hand and Let It Go (the thoughts/the lies/the painful ideas) you are holding, always results in the problem going away, always results in healing. I believe it, I believe it, I believe it. Now I have to practice it!
All is Well.
Lots of Love,
Jen
To Suffer or Not to Suffer. . . .
About eight years ago, Bill and I were looking at houses, hoping we'd be able to buy one. At the time, we were living in a TownHouse apartment which was quite nice, but only had two rooms, and we'd just had Sawyer. The search was not so easy as we didn't have an inordinate amount of money to work with, and we didn't want to move far away from the area we liked. At one point, Bill had gone out with the real estate agent and returned excited. They'd seen the most spacious house so far, in good shape - it wouldn't need any fixing up at all. It had a large yard etc. Bill pressed me to go and see it soon, as he felt we were under some pressure to act. And so we went.
As soon as we arrived, my heart sank. There was nothing beautiful about this house, but then, perhaps, we couldn't be so choosy. We went inside - as Bill showed me how perfectly fine the whole house was and I saw, for myself, how much room there was, and even when I went downstairs to the basement which was large and bright and would be right for my studio space -I was feeling a heaviness that was becoming unbearable. Gradually, it was getting more and more painful for me to be there. My mind understood how this house fit the description of what we were needing and looking for, but my emotional self was completely overwhelmed and upset. Finally, almost unable to breath, I left with them and once we got in the car, I burst into tears. I had felt something in that house that was so strong and so unhappy I could barely stand it - never mind, buy it and live in it. Neither Bill nor the real estate woman had felt it.
Later, we found out a little about the house. The man who was selling it - a strange, depressed sort (as described by Bill) had lived just down the street from his parents who had lived there since it had first been built. They had also died there. As my memory recalls, there was implication that either one or both had suffered a hard, prolonged illness there.
This story came back to me yesterday when I was considering the emotional struggles/patterns I routinely return to. I realized that when I feel upset or uncomfortable about something, about ANYTHING, I am making a choice to Suffer it. And when I make that choice, I am saying, in essence, "I know being in that 'place' makes me feel awful, makes me hurt, fills me with pain and discomfort, but I must go back in there!" Just like that house. Except that I would never have asked myself to even WALK past that house again, but in terms of My House of Emotional Misery, I am willing to send my Self back in there again and again. And I tell myself I must go back "in there" because I believe that by enduring the distress, I will end the pain, conquer it and become strong enough to never feel it again. But it is not our job to think negative and painful thoughts and then attract negative, painful experiences that we then have to endure and prove ourselves through. It's our job to create what is loving and nurturing, to take care of ourselves.
Now I ask myself , "How long do you want to suffer this?"
Because the decision is in my hands. And if the answer is, "No more" then I must say, "I'm done." and I don't get to send my energy, my Self, my spirit back into that painful place. No matter how much I think I "have" to feel that way, or think that way, I decide NOT to follow and develop those trains of thought that are so painful, knowing now that it is the emotional distress, itself, that is cluing me in that I am on the wrong track.
Every now and I again, I have dreams of losing my teeth. And they're quite dramatic - a lot of screaming and panicking - usually it's a few teeth or just one. There is always a sense of disbelief. In one tooth dream, I was very upset, holding the teeth in my hand, still somewhat panicked, when I became LUCID. I said to myself - "I think this is a dream. If this is a dream, when I open my hand and drop these teeth, nothing will hit the floor." And that's what I did, and nothing hit the floor. And I knew and I awoke.
I think that in life, when we let go of what we're so afraid of, of suffering the "evidence" of it, we realize there was nothing there in the first place. I think that choosing not to Suffer With, to calm yourself, to open your hand and Let It Go (the thoughts/the lies/the painful ideas) you are holding, always results in the problem going away, always results in healing. I believe it, I believe it, I believe it. Now I have to practice it!
All is Well.
Lots of Love,
Jen
Violet Bing (written 4/2/07)
Hey guys - here's a poster I put together for a local bookstore window here. I thought you all might like to see what the book looks like (the resolution of the cover image file I have isn't as high as it is in print) and have a sense of what I've been working on. Violet Bing is out in bookstores on April 5th - this Thursday!
This week I've been thinking about Taking Charge of my Thoughts. My goal is that when I am feeling unhappy with a situation that I look at what seems to be missing : hope, joy, perspective, optimism, insight, love, warmth - whatever and look upon that deficit as something I can bring to the table rather than hoping that other people will or the situation will change to make me feel better. Take Charge. I want to channel the good feeling for which I am searching. I think EVERYONE can bring these qualities to any situation at any time, the question is: are we all waiting for each other to do it- to reassure, to comfort, to lead.
Hope you all have a great week.
Lots of love.
All is Well,
Jen
Thoughts That Take You Down (written 3/27/07)
Hello - I'm sending you all LOVE! Now get ready for this one because I've been thinking about CRYING, and why things hurt so much sometimes.
This last week was an intense one for me. On Thursday, I decided it was time for me to take some of my pictures ( from my book) and the cover image and get them made into a small poster, as well as a promotional bookmark. I've been working on the bookmark for a long time, but it's been difficult for me the whole way. I have "designed" a bookmark and the poster (a small poster for a bookstore window here in Seattle), but I've been very insecure about actually getting them produced , as I don't know much about production or the technical end of things. So I've been dreading going to Kinkos. But on Thursday, I forced the issue , collected my files and brought them in.
When I arrived, I was met by a woman, who, interestingly enough, is an illustrator trying to find work in children's books. She was, needless to say, extremely, almost painfully attentive to me. She is a woman in her early fifties (maybe take a few years) with short medium brown hair and a shorter, stouter body (not fat). After first chastising me somewhat about my lack of knowledge (see you really can attract your fears to you!) of production and explaining that my bookmarks could not be done as they are, she went on to champion the poster. However, the cover image file printed out poorly, which left her resorting to experimentation with the color copier in order to try and get a decent reproduction. Although she was extremely generous with her time, It was too much time learning about her, and feeling crummy about myself, and an exorbitant and uncomfortable amount of attention payed to me when all I wanted to do was leave, really. In the end, we produced a poster that was okay and would do in a pinch, if need be.
I exited Kinkos in severe discomfort over all the attention having been payed me, and the conspicuousness of my presence to the other Kinko employees and customers. Upon arriving home, I walked past Bill and his questions as to how it went, and got in the shower and wept hysterically. "Why?" you might ask. "Why the drama?" I don't know exactly; I felt like I was splitting in half. The feeling of not knowing "HOW" to do what I thought I needed to do, the torment of thinking that I couldn't do what I most wanted to do, of feeling so inadequate to the moment. . . . which brings me to my next story of crying.
Years ago when I was attending college (not art school, the Evergreen State College), I had spent about half a year writing a children's novel. It was the first time I'd written any story over five pages long. I had worked alone on "contract" with one of the professors there. The project, to my mind, had been successful. I completed a children's novel and felt pretty good about it. But then, it was time to figure out what to study next. I wasn't sure. I knew I wanted to illustrate the book, but I also knew I couldn't really draw. I looked into drawing classes and finally found a course called, "Studio Project". Studio Project was a full course-load program that required four hours a day working in the studio. Now, I'd never drawn for four hours and I'd never been in a studio, and it seemed intimidating. Also, registration in the class was to be determined by an interview with the professor. I went for the interview and was accepted.
But as the time to go approached, I fell apart. I have a vague memory of calling my father - hysterical, and considering leaving school all together - as there was "nothing" I wanted to study. I don't remember what he said, but my guess is it was a "let's see what happens" kind of response. When I got off the phone, I proceeded to cry harder ( I believe) than I have ever cried. I cried so hard and so intensely that I soon developed the worst throbbing headache of my life. My friend and roommate at the time, Margo, tended me. But I was nuts. It was extremely hard for me to calm down. Again, "Why?" Although I wasn't aware of it, I believe it was the same dynamic operative over the Kinkos Trauma: I wanted something very much, but was simultaneously convinced that I couldn't do it - that I was some how deficient to the challenge. And so, this is painful. Here's my last crying story - and then, hopefully, we can put the kleenex away.
When I was attending art school, I decided I very much wanted to take Video, but I had an image of people who did video as being different than me. I saw them as sort of "cool" and I saw myself as a sort of emotional, fearful type. Video seemed to demand some boldness whereas (I believed) drawing and painting left room for one to remain safe and timid, if need be. But, still, I wanted to take Video and so I did. The assignments in the class were given weekly and each of us had to sign up to take a camera out. So, on our day, each of us would go to the school, sign out the camera for 24 hours and then promptly return it for the next student. And so, that's what I did. With great anxiety, I would bus over to the school, get the camera, return home, set the equipment down, get into the shower and wail and weep. Why - again? Because it was something that I very much wanted to do from the heart (from the inside out), but the outside of me - my personality- was convinced and fearful that I COULD NOT -that I was going to find myself unable and/or incapable. Once I dried off, calmed down, I would set to work and do just fine. Over time, I believe, I was able to bring video equipment into my home and not fall to pieces.
Here's the point: When "it" hurts, when I feel like I just "can't", when I am tormented by feelings of inadequacy, of pain, of not KNOWING WHAT TO DO, it is often related to very much wanting something on a soul level, but my thoughts and my beliefs about myself and the situation are in conflict with what I really want. And that's incredibly painful. You want to be loving and supportive of your child, but you think you're not a good enough parent - that's painful. You want to write a book, but you think you can't or you believe you're no good at it or too lazy - that's painful. You want to feel beautiful, but your thoughts are about how your hair's ugly, or your body's not the right weight, or you've got this or that going on - PAINFUL. It's not the dream or the wanting that needs to go, it's the thoughts that don't support it.
The day I went to Kinkos, I had no support. I had no support because what I wanted most was not being supported by what I was choosing to think about myself. And that was painful. And THAT was what I was attempting to wash off in that very long shower. Perhaps what I needed to hear from myself was, "It's great that you're taking this on and it's great that you're learning and you can keep learning and asking."
Yes. I wish you all the best and hope that this week you support your own dreams with your thoughts. I know you would never tell me to give up or be down on myself, so, certainly, encourage yourselves too. And I will strive to do exactly that also!
Lots of Love.
All is Well.
Jen
This last week was an intense one for me. On Thursday, I decided it was time for me to take some of my pictures ( from my book) and the cover image and get them made into a small poster, as well as a promotional bookmark. I've been working on the bookmark for a long time, but it's been difficult for me the whole way. I have "designed" a bookmark and the poster (a small poster for a bookstore window here in Seattle), but I've been very insecure about actually getting them produced , as I don't know much about production or the technical end of things. So I've been dreading going to Kinkos. But on Thursday, I forced the issue , collected my files and brought them in.
When I arrived, I was met by a woman, who, interestingly enough, is an illustrator trying to find work in children's books. She was, needless to say, extremely, almost painfully attentive to me. She is a woman in her early fifties (maybe take a few years) with short medium brown hair and a shorter, stouter body (not fat). After first chastising me somewhat about my lack of knowledge (see you really can attract your fears to you!) of production and explaining that my bookmarks could not be done as they are, she went on to champion the poster. However, the cover image file printed out poorly, which left her resorting to experimentation with the color copier in order to try and get a decent reproduction. Although she was extremely generous with her time, It was too much time learning about her, and feeling crummy about myself, and an exorbitant and uncomfortable amount of attention payed to me when all I wanted to do was leave, really. In the end, we produced a poster that was okay and would do in a pinch, if need be.
I exited Kinkos in severe discomfort over all the attention having been payed me, and the conspicuousness of my presence to the other Kinko employees and customers. Upon arriving home, I walked past Bill and his questions as to how it went, and got in the shower and wept hysterically. "Why?" you might ask. "Why the drama?" I don't know exactly; I felt like I was splitting in half. The feeling of not knowing "HOW" to do what I thought I needed to do, the torment of thinking that I couldn't do what I most wanted to do, of feeling so inadequate to the moment. . . . which brings me to my next story of crying.
Years ago when I was attending college (not art school, the Evergreen State College), I had spent about half a year writing a children's novel. It was the first time I'd written any story over five pages long. I had worked alone on "contract" with one of the professors there. The project, to my mind, had been successful. I completed a children's novel and felt pretty good about it. But then, it was time to figure out what to study next. I wasn't sure. I knew I wanted to illustrate the book, but I also knew I couldn't really draw. I looked into drawing classes and finally found a course called, "Studio Project". Studio Project was a full course-load program that required four hours a day working in the studio. Now, I'd never drawn for four hours and I'd never been in a studio, and it seemed intimidating. Also, registration in the class was to be determined by an interview with the professor. I went for the interview and was accepted.
But as the time to go approached, I fell apart. I have a vague memory of calling my father - hysterical, and considering leaving school all together - as there was "nothing" I wanted to study. I don't remember what he said, but my guess is it was a "let's see what happens" kind of response. When I got off the phone, I proceeded to cry harder ( I believe) than I have ever cried. I cried so hard and so intensely that I soon developed the worst throbbing headache of my life. My friend and roommate at the time, Margo, tended me. But I was nuts. It was extremely hard for me to calm down. Again, "Why?" Although I wasn't aware of it, I believe it was the same dynamic operative over the Kinkos Trauma: I wanted something very much, but was simultaneously convinced that I couldn't do it - that I was some how deficient to the challenge. And so, this is painful. Here's my last crying story - and then, hopefully, we can put the kleenex away.
When I was attending art school, I decided I very much wanted to take Video, but I had an image of people who did video as being different than me. I saw them as sort of "cool" and I saw myself as a sort of emotional, fearful type. Video seemed to demand some boldness whereas (I believed) drawing and painting left room for one to remain safe and timid, if need be. But, still, I wanted to take Video and so I did. The assignments in the class were given weekly and each of us had to sign up to take a camera out. So, on our day, each of us would go to the school, sign out the camera for 24 hours and then promptly return it for the next student. And so, that's what I did. With great anxiety, I would bus over to the school, get the camera, return home, set the equipment down, get into the shower and wail and weep. Why - again? Because it was something that I very much wanted to do from the heart (from the inside out), but the outside of me - my personality- was convinced and fearful that I COULD NOT -that I was going to find myself unable and/or incapable. Once I dried off, calmed down, I would set to work and do just fine. Over time, I believe, I was able to bring video equipment into my home and not fall to pieces.
Here's the point: When "it" hurts, when I feel like I just "can't", when I am tormented by feelings of inadequacy, of pain, of not KNOWING WHAT TO DO, it is often related to very much wanting something on a soul level, but my thoughts and my beliefs about myself and the situation are in conflict with what I really want. And that's incredibly painful. You want to be loving and supportive of your child, but you think you're not a good enough parent - that's painful. You want to write a book, but you think you can't or you believe you're no good at it or too lazy - that's painful. You want to feel beautiful, but your thoughts are about how your hair's ugly, or your body's not the right weight, or you've got this or that going on - PAINFUL. It's not the dream or the wanting that needs to go, it's the thoughts that don't support it.
The day I went to Kinkos, I had no support. I had no support because what I wanted most was not being supported by what I was choosing to think about myself. And that was painful. And THAT was what I was attempting to wash off in that very long shower. Perhaps what I needed to hear from myself was, "It's great that you're taking this on and it's great that you're learning and you can keep learning and asking."
Yes. I wish you all the best and hope that this week you support your own dreams with your thoughts. I know you would never tell me to give up or be down on myself, so, certainly, encourage yourselves too. And I will strive to do exactly that also!
Lots of Love.
All is Well.
Jen
The DO-NOT-KNOWs (written 3/19/07)
Hello, you great individuals! This week I want to write about Decision Making, DO NOT KNOWs, and the most valuable decision of being supportive of yourself regardless. Hang on to your hats people - here we go!
When I was studying art at Cornish College of the Arts here in Seattle, I was certain of two things: my own vision and drive and my fear of the work not being good enough. My drive to do my work was very strong and luckily, I was never the type who could squeeze herself into a different form or approach with the hope of pleasing someone else. But although I couldn't make myself purposefully change my work in order to seek approval, I could certainly think it should be different and also fear showing the work. During my early days in art school, I worked diligently to follow the requirements and any implied requirements. I heard that they "encouraged" the students to try EVERYTHING - all of the disciplines. And although I wasn't interested in sculpture and printmaking, I took the classes because I felt I was supposed to. Those were my two worst experiences at art school.
I worked very hard during this time - anxiety filled, crying often over projects and deadlines, mostly internal pressure with which I did not know how to cope. At one point, I had made a painting on a wood panel that my teacher wanted me to submit for a juried art show. I was to hang it in the hallway with the other submissions and see if it was selected. She pushed me to enter the piece. I had made something I liked and felt good about; it had meaning to me and I wanted to participate in the show. All the elements were there, but I felt taxed and stressed by the decision to enter. I forced myself along and worked to hang it, that day, at the last minute with my teacher's help. I still remember the final moment of lifting that picture (which wasn't that heavy) and feeling sudden pain in my back.
I'd had back trouble before but nothing major. But that moment was to be the turning point in which the weak link in my body was to finally " break" under the pressure and stress of how I was feeling. It wasn't that I shouldn't have tried for the juried art show, it was that my perspective was out of balance, unsupportive , and unloving of myself. I was consumed with fear of how others would perceive it, rather than standing behind myself and my efforts.
(I was to go on to much chiropractic care, much exercise, and many cycles with my back before it returned to stability - really greater stability than before.)
Here's another clue:
When I was working on the cover for my children's book, my editor, the art designer and I selected one of my drawings we thought would work well. I set to work, and on the first day, completed a color version I liked very much. I felt a rush of excitement and pleasure over it, but then, quickly afterwards rescinded on my opinion and decided that I needed to work on a background for the image. I had no inspiration for a background and didn't know what to do for it. The NOT KNOWING stressed me out- or rather, I stressed myself out over the not knowing and over the next few days (perhaps a whole week) I continued working away with no feeling of connection and a very strong feeling of POINTLESSNESS. But the thing was: I THOUGHT I should continue; I thought I should know what the background was and I would not relent. In my heart, after I painted the original, I felt DONE. But my brain said that I could not be. It turns out it could because that first color picture was the one they used.
I did NOT KNOW what the art designer and editor would think of the cover; I did NOT KNOW what others would think of my painting. I did NOT KNOW what others would think of me choosing not to take sculpture and printmaking. The lack of willingness to take those risks, to stand in support of myself wreaked havoc on me. In each case, I actually KNEW the decision I wanted to make, but stressed myself over the part I did not know - the part that has to do with other people's perceptions. And that's what slowed me down and caused me pain and distress every time.
I don't think the DO NOT KNOWS are of importance. They are what we cannot control and perhaps, they are what we do not need to control. I am striving to release myself from concern and worry over what I don't know, so I am free to focus on the food and fuel of what I do know and hopefully the decisions will flow much more easily as I learn this.
I wish you all great luck in your decision-making for this week.
All is Well.
Lots of love,
Jen
When I was studying art at Cornish College of the Arts here in Seattle, I was certain of two things: my own vision and drive and my fear of the work not being good enough. My drive to do my work was very strong and luckily, I was never the type who could squeeze herself into a different form or approach with the hope of pleasing someone else. But although I couldn't make myself purposefully change my work in order to seek approval, I could certainly think it should be different and also fear showing the work. During my early days in art school, I worked diligently to follow the requirements and any implied requirements. I heard that they "encouraged" the students to try EVERYTHING - all of the disciplines. And although I wasn't interested in sculpture and printmaking, I took the classes because I felt I was supposed to. Those were my two worst experiences at art school.
I worked very hard during this time - anxiety filled, crying often over projects and deadlines, mostly internal pressure with which I did not know how to cope. At one point, I had made a painting on a wood panel that my teacher wanted me to submit for a juried art show. I was to hang it in the hallway with the other submissions and see if it was selected. She pushed me to enter the piece. I had made something I liked and felt good about; it had meaning to me and I wanted to participate in the show. All the elements were there, but I felt taxed and stressed by the decision to enter. I forced myself along and worked to hang it, that day, at the last minute with my teacher's help. I still remember the final moment of lifting that picture (which wasn't that heavy) and feeling sudden pain in my back.
I'd had back trouble before but nothing major. But that moment was to be the turning point in which the weak link in my body was to finally " break" under the pressure and stress of how I was feeling. It wasn't that I shouldn't have tried for the juried art show, it was that my perspective was out of balance, unsupportive , and unloving of myself. I was consumed with fear of how others would perceive it, rather than standing behind myself and my efforts.
(I was to go on to much chiropractic care, much exercise, and many cycles with my back before it returned to stability - really greater stability than before.)
Here's another clue:
When I was working on the cover for my children's book, my editor, the art designer and I selected one of my drawings we thought would work well. I set to work, and on the first day, completed a color version I liked very much. I felt a rush of excitement and pleasure over it, but then, quickly afterwards rescinded on my opinion and decided that I needed to work on a background for the image. I had no inspiration for a background and didn't know what to do for it. The NOT KNOWING stressed me out- or rather, I stressed myself out over the not knowing and over the next few days (perhaps a whole week) I continued working away with no feeling of connection and a very strong feeling of POINTLESSNESS. But the thing was: I THOUGHT I should continue; I thought I should know what the background was and I would not relent. In my heart, after I painted the original, I felt DONE. But my brain said that I could not be. It turns out it could because that first color picture was the one they used.
I did NOT KNOW what the art designer and editor would think of the cover; I did NOT KNOW what others would think of my painting. I did NOT KNOW what others would think of me choosing not to take sculpture and printmaking. The lack of willingness to take those risks, to stand in support of myself wreaked havoc on me. In each case, I actually KNEW the decision I wanted to make, but stressed myself over the part I did not know - the part that has to do with other people's perceptions. And that's what slowed me down and caused me pain and distress every time.
I don't think the DO NOT KNOWS are of importance. They are what we cannot control and perhaps, they are what we do not need to control. I am striving to release myself from concern and worry over what I don't know, so I am free to focus on the food and fuel of what I do know and hopefully the decisions will flow much more easily as I learn this.
I wish you all great luck in your decision-making for this week.
All is Well.
Lots of love,
Jen
Desire for Connection (written 3/12/07)
Hello everyone! This week's NEWS is about realizing and reaching for your true priority and going towards that. Let's take a look.
Over a year ago, Sawyer (as I've described before) was having a very hard time. He was in an Inclusion Program at his school which offered support for him while he attended a regular classroom throughout the day, but he was taxing their resources because he was in need of so much attention. He was unable to sit at his desk for very long; he was acting out, pretending, and off in his head almost all the time. His behavior was inappropriate often, his voice too loud, his ability to modify what he was doing was near to nil. He'd had such a significant language delay that he was still running far behind the curve in terms of his receptive and expressive language which made it even more stressful for him to be there. Being over-stimulated by the classroom sent him off into pretending and pretending, of course, is not conducive to following directions, listening, or staying on task. I was extremely worried and fearful.
Then one day, I came across a book about a family who had worked with their child with Autism. Their son, who had been born in the late sixties, was completely unresponsive and consumed with his own world. At eighteen months, he would make no eye contact, refuse being held, and would engage in repetitive behaviors they called "isms". From a lack of external resources/support and a strong desire to have a relationship with him, they developed their own program to help bridge the gap between where he was to the "outside" world. One of the main concepts in the book has to do with what they call "Joining". "Joining" is the act of participating in the behavior the other person's engaged in, in order to be doing something with them, be in relation to them. So, if you've got a kid who won't come out of where they "are" to be with you on your terms, you, instead, go to where they are. At least, this way, you have put yourself in greater relation to them. What happens is that when you join a child like this, where they once ignored you, they often now start to recognize you because instead of trying to drag them into your world, you're showing a willingness to enter theirs.
I started working with this concept with Sawyer. When he ran back and forth, flapping his hands and pretending, I ran with him. I flapped with him. Soon, he told me not to "copy" him, but when I explained that I wanted to play with him and didn't relent, he started taking the lead and what was, at first, isolated play, became a game we played together. It wasn't long before he started looking for me to copy him and join him. Bill and I both applied ourselves to spending more time with him, to being with him on his terms and to gradually attempting to introduce a broader range of experience. Having any kind of closer relationship with Sawyer became the priority that allowed us to start building the bridge to the outside world for him. Whereas before our priority had been on How He Had to Be and How Things Had to Be in order to be OK, now it was just about wanting to be closer to him - and that was achievable.
After we started this, the special ed. teacher at his school experienced a huge turn around in his behavior and their ability to work with him. And from there, he was on a new course. It is a long road and there is still much for all of us to learn, but it was the SHIFTING OF OUR PRIORITIES that changed the course of our experience. We shifted off of how we thought things had to be and onto what we really wanted which was to feel close, connected, and loving with Sawyer. With that intention, a lot of confusion began to clear.
Here's another clue:
Recently, I got very down and fearful and felt that I had many things to do and a dread around all of them. These were all related to promotional things I felt I should do for my book. Suddenly nothing felt good or right; I felt that failure was in the air; every action seemed pointless. I was worried about each step I was taking and I was worried about taking a step because I wanted it to be the right one and I was afraid that it wouldn't lead to what I wanted. Then one day, after many days of this self-torture, I found myself wondering this: "What if it's actually more important for me to be Calm and Peaceful than to make sure everything turns out a certain way? What if it's actually more important for me NOT to worry than it is for me to get these things done?"
I started turning this idea over. What would it mean to make my first priority: Not Worrying or Being Calm & Peaceful? Could it actually be more important than those things? I tried it on and I experimented with letting go of this sense of URGENCY I was continually feeding and building upon. What if the urgency was false? What if it wasn't real? What if it didn't have to be?
In shifting my priorities over to Not Worrying, over to this sense of Calm, I was shifting over to being more loving towards myself. It meant putting down the BATTLE and the FIGHT and joining myself, not just trying to get myself to be or do certain things. And just like with Sawyer, it is an opportunity to be closer, to have what I actually want which is the experience of connection and love. And out of connection and love grow stability, security, and the confidence to reach out which always leads to Doing, but this time from a place of joy.
Take your priority off of what you think has to be and how it has to be in order for you to feel good and let the worry subside. Replace it with the willingness and desire for CONNECTION however it comes. Because you just know that it will be enough.
Thanks you guys. I wish you a great week.
Lots of love.
All is Well.
Jen
Over a year ago, Sawyer (as I've described before) was having a very hard time. He was in an Inclusion Program at his school which offered support for him while he attended a regular classroom throughout the day, but he was taxing their resources because he was in need of so much attention. He was unable to sit at his desk for very long; he was acting out, pretending, and off in his head almost all the time. His behavior was inappropriate often, his voice too loud, his ability to modify what he was doing was near to nil. He'd had such a significant language delay that he was still running far behind the curve in terms of his receptive and expressive language which made it even more stressful for him to be there. Being over-stimulated by the classroom sent him off into pretending and pretending, of course, is not conducive to following directions, listening, or staying on task. I was extremely worried and fearful.
Then one day, I came across a book about a family who had worked with their child with Autism. Their son, who had been born in the late sixties, was completely unresponsive and consumed with his own world. At eighteen months, he would make no eye contact, refuse being held, and would engage in repetitive behaviors they called "isms". From a lack of external resources/support and a strong desire to have a relationship with him, they developed their own program to help bridge the gap between where he was to the "outside" world. One of the main concepts in the book has to do with what they call "Joining". "Joining" is the act of participating in the behavior the other person's engaged in, in order to be doing something with them, be in relation to them. So, if you've got a kid who won't come out of where they "are" to be with you on your terms, you, instead, go to where they are. At least, this way, you have put yourself in greater relation to them. What happens is that when you join a child like this, where they once ignored you, they often now start to recognize you because instead of trying to drag them into your world, you're showing a willingness to enter theirs.
I started working with this concept with Sawyer. When he ran back and forth, flapping his hands and pretending, I ran with him. I flapped with him. Soon, he told me not to "copy" him, but when I explained that I wanted to play with him and didn't relent, he started taking the lead and what was, at first, isolated play, became a game we played together. It wasn't long before he started looking for me to copy him and join him. Bill and I both applied ourselves to spending more time with him, to being with him on his terms and to gradually attempting to introduce a broader range of experience. Having any kind of closer relationship with Sawyer became the priority that allowed us to start building the bridge to the outside world for him. Whereas before our priority had been on How He Had to Be and How Things Had to Be in order to be OK, now it was just about wanting to be closer to him - and that was achievable.
After we started this, the special ed. teacher at his school experienced a huge turn around in his behavior and their ability to work with him. And from there, he was on a new course. It is a long road and there is still much for all of us to learn, but it was the SHIFTING OF OUR PRIORITIES that changed the course of our experience. We shifted off of how we thought things had to be and onto what we really wanted which was to feel close, connected, and loving with Sawyer. With that intention, a lot of confusion began to clear.
Here's another clue:
Recently, I got very down and fearful and felt that I had many things to do and a dread around all of them. These were all related to promotional things I felt I should do for my book. Suddenly nothing felt good or right; I felt that failure was in the air; every action seemed pointless. I was worried about each step I was taking and I was worried about taking a step because I wanted it to be the right one and I was afraid that it wouldn't lead to what I wanted. Then one day, after many days of this self-torture, I found myself wondering this: "What if it's actually more important for me to be Calm and Peaceful than to make sure everything turns out a certain way? What if it's actually more important for me NOT to worry than it is for me to get these things done?"
I started turning this idea over. What would it mean to make my first priority: Not Worrying or Being Calm & Peaceful? Could it actually be more important than those things? I tried it on and I experimented with letting go of this sense of URGENCY I was continually feeding and building upon. What if the urgency was false? What if it wasn't real? What if it didn't have to be?
In shifting my priorities over to Not Worrying, over to this sense of Calm, I was shifting over to being more loving towards myself. It meant putting down the BATTLE and the FIGHT and joining myself, not just trying to get myself to be or do certain things. And just like with Sawyer, it is an opportunity to be closer, to have what I actually want which is the experience of connection and love. And out of connection and love grow stability, security, and the confidence to reach out which always leads to Doing, but this time from a place of joy.
Take your priority off of what you think has to be and how it has to be in order for you to feel good and let the worry subside. Replace it with the willingness and desire for CONNECTION however it comes. Because you just know that it will be enough.
Thanks you guys. I wish you a great week.
Lots of love.
All is Well.
Jen
No Resisting Uncertainty (written 3/7/07)
Hi you guys. It's a bumpy road for old Jen these days, but here's what's surfacing: Re-alignment, Letting it Happen, Pain, and Faith. Climb aboard - everything is going to be all right!
Last year, around Christmas, I developed a PAIN . The pain was located in my upper stomach area(on one side) and I believed it to be a rib that had popped out of place (I've had this before). Usually, I am able to work through this pain and it goes away, but this time, it was persisting. With this sort of pain, I can feel it in the front and in the back and it can be quite uncomfortable. As time went by and it wasn't going away and even seemed to be worsening, I grew more concerned.
At this time, Sawyer was having an extremely difficult time at school. He is enrolled in public school in a special education Inclusion Program which offers extra support and help throughout his school day spent in a regular classroom with "typically developing" children. So, a special ed teacher or assistant would come by and see if he needed help with work or behavioral issues . But at this time, the staff found that they had to be with him all the time, instead of just once in a while. He was acting out and receiving up to five time-outs a day. He was becoming more and more difficult to reach. I was stressed out of my mind because I knew that they might have to boot him out of this program because they were unable to address his needs. And so, my Pain evolved.
Finally, I decided to go to a chiropractor, Dr. Gita Vasudeva, to see if she might help by popping the rib back into place. When I arrived she was more interested in how screwed up my neck was, how, apparently, I wear my shoulders like earrings, and how my head is on crooked. She worked diligently to fix me while I hoped and prayed she could. But somewhere, deep down, I knew, the solution was not going to come from her.
Chiropractors have a small, gentle tool they can use called an attenuator; they also have the crack and pop hands-on system we're all familiar with. I've always chosen the tool, but this time, she was encouraging me to allow the cracking, twisting version. I acquiesced and was okay the first time or two, but soon, I could feel something growing in me that was very much like RESISTANCE. I didn't want her to force me back into place, force me back the way I should be - even if I was going to feel better. Apparently, I wanted to do it myself. It seemed irrational and just plain dumb, but I knew this was the undercurrent of my experience with her, so I stopped going. That night, I took Dr. Gita's earlier advice and forced myself to breath deeply and fully into and through that area; that was the first time in weeks I felt any real kind of relief and the healing progressed from there.
Another clue:
Years ago, Bill, Sawyer, Max, and I were at the park and I needed to go back home (the park is five minutes from our house). Bill was pushing Sawyer on the little kid swing and I was walking away waving goodbye to him as I went, but the thing is, I just kept looking at Sawyer and waving, looking and waving, looking and waving, until I'd unintentionally walked myself right into a bleacher and stabbed myself in the solar plexis . Gasping for air, I looked over to see if Bill or anyone was noticing, but they were not. It hurt and it took a few minutes to regroup, but afterwards, I knew why it had happened. It was hard for me to Let Go of Sawyer, emotionally, and I had just acted it out. And I'd also acted out the repercussions of not being able to let go - one loses one's breath, ease, and, in the end, one hurts oneself.
Last clue:
Over seven years ago, we went on a family vacation to Cannon Beach in Oregon. Sawyer was only about a year and a half ; Max had just turned five. I had recently started writing my children's book and I was going to be going to a Writer's Conference. The months before I'd found myself growing increasingly stressed over the drawings for the story, and my eyes had begun to get very dry, and then my right eye started hurting terribly, and then once that resolved I got diarrhea, for a long time. It was still going on when we went on vacation and I'd just realized I'd dropped some weight, so I was feeling very skinny, very off, very wrong and ugly. And then, my hair started falling out excessively - not clumps - but lots of extra hair. I went to the doctor but the tests provided no guidance. A sense of panic grew and I started having that nightmare mentality momentum in which I dread the days and just can't seem to feel good. My days became tortuous and every moment was painful. I didn't know what I was fearing; I didn't know what was wrong; I just knew I was spinning out. Bill was exhausted listening to me. Every moment was an exercise in fear and self-consciousness; I didn't want to be seen and I didn't want to see. Everything hurt.
My friend Gail, who lives in Oregon with her daughter, came to visit us at the beach. I told her what was going on and she said, "Let it happen." And with those words, I began paddling back to shore. Each moment, I would repeat them to myself: "Let it happen" - every time I was fearing the next moment: "Let it happen". For the first time in my life, I was consciously practicing letting it go - no longer fighting for my survival or safety, but striving instead to establish FAITH.
Here's what I'm thinking:
My emotional pain over not being in a place of enough Allowing and Trusting in regards to Sawyer was so strong that it became physical. I had clamped down on my experience to the point of pinching myself off from feeling good as my mind diligently strove to try to gain control over things I simply could not control. And the same goes for my mental/emotional/physical response to striving to send my work out in the world; I became so frightened of what might happen next for me, of my vulnerability "out there", that again, my mind worked overtime striving to resist the uncertainty. But there is no resisting uncertainty. One must, instead, work to create what one wants and let the rest go.
This is a BIG one for me. Lots to learn.
Hope you're all learning lots.
All is Well.
Much Love,
Jen
Last year, around Christmas, I developed a PAIN . The pain was located in my upper stomach area(on one side) and I believed it to be a rib that had popped out of place (I've had this before). Usually, I am able to work through this pain and it goes away, but this time, it was persisting. With this sort of pain, I can feel it in the front and in the back and it can be quite uncomfortable. As time went by and it wasn't going away and even seemed to be worsening, I grew more concerned.
At this time, Sawyer was having an extremely difficult time at school. He is enrolled in public school in a special education Inclusion Program which offers extra support and help throughout his school day spent in a regular classroom with "typically developing" children. So, a special ed teacher or assistant would come by and see if he needed help with work or behavioral issues . But at this time, the staff found that they had to be with him all the time, instead of just once in a while. He was acting out and receiving up to five time-outs a day. He was becoming more and more difficult to reach. I was stressed out of my mind because I knew that they might have to boot him out of this program because they were unable to address his needs. And so, my Pain evolved.
Finally, I decided to go to a chiropractor, Dr. Gita Vasudeva, to see if she might help by popping the rib back into place. When I arrived she was more interested in how screwed up my neck was, how, apparently, I wear my shoulders like earrings, and how my head is on crooked. She worked diligently to fix me while I hoped and prayed she could. But somewhere, deep down, I knew, the solution was not going to come from her.
Chiropractors have a small, gentle tool they can use called an attenuator; they also have the crack and pop hands-on system we're all familiar with. I've always chosen the tool, but this time, she was encouraging me to allow the cracking, twisting version. I acquiesced and was okay the first time or two, but soon, I could feel something growing in me that was very much like RESISTANCE. I didn't want her to force me back into place, force me back the way I should be - even if I was going to feel better. Apparently, I wanted to do it myself. It seemed irrational and just plain dumb, but I knew this was the undercurrent of my experience with her, so I stopped going. That night, I took Dr. Gita's earlier advice and forced myself to breath deeply and fully into and through that area; that was the first time in weeks I felt any real kind of relief and the healing progressed from there.
Another clue:
Years ago, Bill, Sawyer, Max, and I were at the park and I needed to go back home (the park is five minutes from our house). Bill was pushing Sawyer on the little kid swing and I was walking away waving goodbye to him as I went, but the thing is, I just kept looking at Sawyer and waving, looking and waving, looking and waving, until I'd unintentionally walked myself right into a bleacher and stabbed myself in the solar plexis . Gasping for air, I looked over to see if Bill or anyone was noticing, but they were not. It hurt and it took a few minutes to regroup, but afterwards, I knew why it had happened. It was hard for me to Let Go of Sawyer, emotionally, and I had just acted it out. And I'd also acted out the repercussions of not being able to let go - one loses one's breath, ease, and, in the end, one hurts oneself.
Last clue:
Over seven years ago, we went on a family vacation to Cannon Beach in Oregon. Sawyer was only about a year and a half ; Max had just turned five. I had recently started writing my children's book and I was going to be going to a Writer's Conference. The months before I'd found myself growing increasingly stressed over the drawings for the story, and my eyes had begun to get very dry, and then my right eye started hurting terribly, and then once that resolved I got diarrhea, for a long time. It was still going on when we went on vacation and I'd just realized I'd dropped some weight, so I was feeling very skinny, very off, very wrong and ugly. And then, my hair started falling out excessively - not clumps - but lots of extra hair. I went to the doctor but the tests provided no guidance. A sense of panic grew and I started having that nightmare mentality momentum in which I dread the days and just can't seem to feel good. My days became tortuous and every moment was painful. I didn't know what I was fearing; I didn't know what was wrong; I just knew I was spinning out. Bill was exhausted listening to me. Every moment was an exercise in fear and self-consciousness; I didn't want to be seen and I didn't want to see. Everything hurt.
My friend Gail, who lives in Oregon with her daughter, came to visit us at the beach. I told her what was going on and she said, "Let it happen." And with those words, I began paddling back to shore. Each moment, I would repeat them to myself: "Let it happen" - every time I was fearing the next moment: "Let it happen". For the first time in my life, I was consciously practicing letting it go - no longer fighting for my survival or safety, but striving instead to establish FAITH.
Here's what I'm thinking:
My emotional pain over not being in a place of enough Allowing and Trusting in regards to Sawyer was so strong that it became physical. I had clamped down on my experience to the point of pinching myself off from feeling good as my mind diligently strove to try to gain control over things I simply could not control. And the same goes for my mental/emotional/physical response to striving to send my work out in the world; I became so frightened of what might happen next for me, of my vulnerability "out there", that again, my mind worked overtime striving to resist the uncertainty. But there is no resisting uncertainty. One must, instead, work to create what one wants and let the rest go.
This is a BIG one for me. Lots to learn.
Hope you're all learning lots.
All is Well.
Much Love,
Jen
Fighting For (written 2/26/07)
Hi fellow travelers. I hope you are well and focused on what you want - which his sometimes, a little tricky. This week I'm thinking about the Urge to Change, Resistance, taking out the garbage, haircuts, and The New Jen . Here are my stories.
Bill and I tend to divide up all the chores quite equitably. He washes the clothes, I fold them. I do Sawyer's homework with him; he reads with him. When there's no homework, we trade off on the nights we read with him. Back and forth turns with the dishes, and who cleans the bathroom and the living room each week. One chore we share is taking out the kitchen garbage and recycling. This is an area in which Bill wins the Blue Ribbon and I come in a humble: Participated Without Honors. In the past, I've had a kind of complacent apathy. You could call it procrastination; you could call it laziness; you could call it annoying. I wait LONGER than the average man named Bill to take it out. And this can get to said man. So, this has been a point of contention between him and me since we began living together. He has learned to deal with it, by taking it out for me(even though I do get to it -eventually). This solution has displeased me greatly as I always feel GUILTY and angry. I've always experienced his taking out the garbage (when it's my turn) as a kind of passive aggressive statement of disapproval. Now, one would think I would have changed because of these uncomfortable feelings. But I have not. This dynamic has continued to occur on and off with the same emotional charge around it.
Recently, I saw that the recycling was stuffed. Sometimes, when "my" recycling is overfilled and the garbage is not yet full, Bill will take it and empty it for me. This time, I decided to do it for him. Upon my return I found myself saying out loud, "Bill is going to be stunned! This is all part of the new Jen!" And as I was doing it, I found myself wondering what else nice I could do for Bill. And then, it occurred to me: his taking out the garbage for me all those years had been a NICE thing. I had been so busy feeling bad about myself, I'd never felt grateful. I then decided to take out his garbage for him that week. And when I did, and he noticed, I told him that it was in thanks for all the times he'd done it for me. And we were both so triumphant about the moment that we hugged! I realized then, from the expression on his face, how I had so missed the boat in my stubborn position. He looked genuinely happy. It meant something to him. I had been fighting against something all these years, but I'm not even sure what - resisting something I thought really SHOULD BE RESISTED. But clearly, I was way off track.
All right, we need more clues. One more story.
I cut Max's hair. I don't do a fabulous job; sometimes it's better than other times. Overall, it's fine and he's fine with it. Usually I have to harangue him into cutting it. He often makes the argument that he "likes it this way". His hair is thick and wavy and gets to looking a bit like an ill-groomed wig by a certain length. He refuses to comb it and so I 've believed, in the past, that the smartest approach is to keep it pretty short. This time, he needed a hair cut, but I decided not to mention it. I decided that we should let his hair grow out a bit, and maybe, I could try to cut it differently. I often feel like my haircuts are not quite up to snuff ( a little training might help). At first Max was comfortable with this as he always resists haircuts, but then, after a while, he decided he needed one, but I did not want to cut it. So, for a while, he was kind of haranguing me to cut his hair. All of a sudden, where once was a boy who didn't want a haircut and didn't want it so short, there was now a boy asking for it to be cut as short as possible and as soon as possible. I delayed. And because of Max's distractedness, he forgot.
Finally, it had gotten long enough so that I felt ready. He complained again, and this time I told him I would cut it. He told me to remind him and I did, but when I when I did, he refused! I tried again several times, and again, he refused. I felt this frustration, irritation, self-righteousness emotional cocktail rise within me. I was about to make a worse mess, when I pulled myself from the interaction and strove to think about it in a different way. What was going on? He wanted a haircut; he'd told me he did.
Later I realized that he was angry and why would you want a the person you're angry with to cut your hair? You wouldn't. I wouldn't want a chef I was angry at to cook my dinner and I wouldn't want a doctor I was angry at to perform my operation. And that's when I understood that the whole household was a bit off. Everyone's mood was a little irritable and distracted, and Bill and I weren't paying particularly good attention to the kids. There it was. Bill and I regrouped, had a family day the next day, changed our focus a bit, and the next thing I knew Max was happily ready for his haircut. No problem.
There is a reason for RESISTANCE and it's not useful to explain it as stubbornness. This doesn't provide insight. Everyone wants something; we all want to feel good. I was resisting complying with Bill's garbage request because I felt I didn't like the kind of attention he was paying me; I felt unappreciated and berated. Max didn't like the kind of attention and energy he was receiving. He was feeling bad too. So, we both put up resistance. But all resistance does is block the flow and makes you lock onto the painful feeling you wish to be rid of. When I stopped resisting , my perspective changed. When I stopped fighting against, I started wanting to fight for - for the good between me and the people I love. And the flow returned. And there was no unreasonable compromise requested of anyone; there was no cowing to, complying with; there was no loss of personal power for anyone involved, in fact, just the reverse, power was restored to ALL INVOLVED. And so was balance.
I send you all much love.
All is Well.
Jen
Bill and I tend to divide up all the chores quite equitably. He washes the clothes, I fold them. I do Sawyer's homework with him; he reads with him. When there's no homework, we trade off on the nights we read with him. Back and forth turns with the dishes, and who cleans the bathroom and the living room each week. One chore we share is taking out the kitchen garbage and recycling. This is an area in which Bill wins the Blue Ribbon and I come in a humble: Participated Without Honors. In the past, I've had a kind of complacent apathy. You could call it procrastination; you could call it laziness; you could call it annoying. I wait LONGER than the average man named Bill to take it out. And this can get to said man. So, this has been a point of contention between him and me since we began living together. He has learned to deal with it, by taking it out for me(even though I do get to it -eventually). This solution has displeased me greatly as I always feel GUILTY and angry. I've always experienced his taking out the garbage (when it's my turn) as a kind of passive aggressive statement of disapproval. Now, one would think I would have changed because of these uncomfortable feelings. But I have not. This dynamic has continued to occur on and off with the same emotional charge around it.
Recently, I saw that the recycling was stuffed. Sometimes, when "my" recycling is overfilled and the garbage is not yet full, Bill will take it and empty it for me. This time, I decided to do it for him. Upon my return I found myself saying out loud, "Bill is going to be stunned! This is all part of the new Jen!" And as I was doing it, I found myself wondering what else nice I could do for Bill. And then, it occurred to me: his taking out the garbage for me all those years had been a NICE thing. I had been so busy feeling bad about myself, I'd never felt grateful. I then decided to take out his garbage for him that week. And when I did, and he noticed, I told him that it was in thanks for all the times he'd done it for me. And we were both so triumphant about the moment that we hugged! I realized then, from the expression on his face, how I had so missed the boat in my stubborn position. He looked genuinely happy. It meant something to him. I had been fighting against something all these years, but I'm not even sure what - resisting something I thought really SHOULD BE RESISTED. But clearly, I was way off track.
All right, we need more clues. One more story.
I cut Max's hair. I don't do a fabulous job; sometimes it's better than other times. Overall, it's fine and he's fine with it. Usually I have to harangue him into cutting it. He often makes the argument that he "likes it this way". His hair is thick and wavy and gets to looking a bit like an ill-groomed wig by a certain length. He refuses to comb it and so I 've believed, in the past, that the smartest approach is to keep it pretty short. This time, he needed a hair cut, but I decided not to mention it. I decided that we should let his hair grow out a bit, and maybe, I could try to cut it differently. I often feel like my haircuts are not quite up to snuff ( a little training might help). At first Max was comfortable with this as he always resists haircuts, but then, after a while, he decided he needed one, but I did not want to cut it. So, for a while, he was kind of haranguing me to cut his hair. All of a sudden, where once was a boy who didn't want a haircut and didn't want it so short, there was now a boy asking for it to be cut as short as possible and as soon as possible. I delayed. And because of Max's distractedness, he forgot.
Finally, it had gotten long enough so that I felt ready. He complained again, and this time I told him I would cut it. He told me to remind him and I did, but when I when I did, he refused! I tried again several times, and again, he refused. I felt this frustration, irritation, self-righteousness emotional cocktail rise within me. I was about to make a worse mess, when I pulled myself from the interaction and strove to think about it in a different way. What was going on? He wanted a haircut; he'd told me he did.
Later I realized that he was angry and why would you want a the person you're angry with to cut your hair? You wouldn't. I wouldn't want a chef I was angry at to cook my dinner and I wouldn't want a doctor I was angry at to perform my operation. And that's when I understood that the whole household was a bit off. Everyone's mood was a little irritable and distracted, and Bill and I weren't paying particularly good attention to the kids. There it was. Bill and I regrouped, had a family day the next day, changed our focus a bit, and the next thing I knew Max was happily ready for his haircut. No problem.
There is a reason for RESISTANCE and it's not useful to explain it as stubbornness. This doesn't provide insight. Everyone wants something; we all want to feel good. I was resisting complying with Bill's garbage request because I felt I didn't like the kind of attention he was paying me; I felt unappreciated and berated. Max didn't like the kind of attention and energy he was receiving. He was feeling bad too. So, we both put up resistance. But all resistance does is block the flow and makes you lock onto the painful feeling you wish to be rid of. When I stopped resisting , my perspective changed. When I stopped fighting against, I started wanting to fight for - for the good between me and the people I love. And the flow returned. And there was no unreasonable compromise requested of anyone; there was no cowing to, complying with; there was no loss of personal power for anyone involved, in fact, just the reverse, power was restored to ALL INVOLVED. And so was balance.
I send you all much love.
All is Well.
Jen
Our Own Source of Hope (written 2/19/07)
Let's go for a walk this week. I need it.
Here's what I'm thinking about: giving yourself HOPE, waving babies, old men, and what it takes to pull your attention from despair to HOPE. Lace up, it's time to go!
My family moved from Rhode Island to Washington the summer I turned eighteen and I planned on going to The Evergreen State College in Olympia. It was kind of an uneasy summer, with living at my Aunt's and Uncle's house for a while, and then renovating my parents new house for the last part of the summer. When it was time to go to college, I wanted to go very much.
When I arrived at college, I liked it. I liked the people and I liked my classes, and I started discovering things about myself I liked. I found writing the papers exciting and satisfying. I drew people to me, and I enjoyed being around them. They made it easy for me; they came to me. It didn't take long, though, before I discovered something about myself that wasn't as positive. I discovered I was actually quite afraid. I realized that during my high school years I had built my life in a very restricted and limited fashion- much of it, unconsciously- in order to feel safe. Now that I was outside of this previously constructed life, it was harder to feel secure. All of a sudden, I was seeing my limitations revealed and it was painful and disheartening. And it wasn't NEW fear, it was fear I'd always had but had cleverly navigated around. But now, it was getting increasingly more difficult to navigate. And now, I was really starting to hurt from all those years of restrictive, fearful thoughts.
Then one day, I wanted to take the bus to to the grocery store, but my friend Kelley didn't want to go with me. When she said she couldn't go, I felt panicked. I was able to get around campus, to go to my classes, but there were many other things I found too frightening to take on. She pointed out that I was always unwilling to go places (off-campus especially) without her and this was a problem for her, but more importantly, for me. She challenged me to deal with it. I was ashamed and I resolved to go to the store on my own the next day and begin to break the pattern.
That night, I was in such a panic over my trip that I asked my dreams for help. And they gave it.
I dreamt I was walking along a narrow , very long city street at dusk. On either side were city buildings, quite worn and dilapidated and there were street people lingering about. As I walked, the people would pull on me, grab, or touch me. I was unnerved and frightened, but continued. My eyes were on the horizon line where I was headed and I walked on in dread. Soon, my pace slowed and it was hard to move my legs and feet, then I found myself crawling, then barely crawling, then it was hard for me to see, and then I was virtually blind struggling along to make progress.
I awoke distressed . And then found myself trying to remember what I had planned to do the next day and I remembered my bus trip to the grocery store. It was then that I realized it was just a bus trip to the grocery store. I would not be facing that street, or that inability to move forward. A weight lifted off me and although I still had some anxiety, it was manageable and after that experience, I began building on getting out more and freeing myself.
I had felt scared when Kelley told me she wouldn't go with me. I felt hopeless in regards to me out in the world because I didn't understand my power. It's easy to feel resentful of other people when you've restricted yourself greatly, because you've restricted yourself specifically because of this sense of hopelessness about yourself. Other people become your reassurance, your hand to hold. Why did I need Kelley there when I didn't need Kelley there? There was an unanswered question in me that I tried to answer with her so I wouldn't have to look into where it hurt. I still feel the remains of that pattern. But if I want to grow, I have to release my attachment to seeing others as some how more powerful than me.
Sometimes, these days, I go for walks and listen to my ipod as I go. It's a favorite activity. This past week, I went for a walk and I was walking along feeling great and happened to look over at an old man in a lawn chair sitting out on his front yard. Even though I was "plugged in" and didn't know him, I mouthed "Hi" and smiled. He raised his whole arm up high and greeted me with great enthusiasm. I walked on feeling even better than I had before. And then yesterday, I was walking my same route and happened to look over at a house I look at often, only this time, there was a baby boy standing at the window, dressed in a blue sleeper, and he was waving to me.
One of my biggest challenges is to be willing to provide my own HOPE, to be willing to trust myself that I'll spot it around me , that it will come to me ( like the old man and the baby), and that I have the capacity to generate it . When you know you can generate hope, you are onto FAITH - faith in yourself and faith in something greater that draws good to you through your own expression of good. At those moments of despair, I believe that one is looking for evidence of one's own power and is afraid it is not there. That's the time to CREATE IT. That is the time to focus upon something we want, something we love, something that matters to us, and generate that good feeling. And in doing so, we become our own source of HOPE. And that then answers the question of our own power, because now we're feeling it - our ability to create something new.
Start where you are and build up from there, and know you can - that's what I've been thinking about.
Lots of love.
All is Well.
Jen
Here's what I'm thinking about: giving yourself HOPE, waving babies, old men, and what it takes to pull your attention from despair to HOPE. Lace up, it's time to go!
My family moved from Rhode Island to Washington the summer I turned eighteen and I planned on going to The Evergreen State College in Olympia. It was kind of an uneasy summer, with living at my Aunt's and Uncle's house for a while, and then renovating my parents new house for the last part of the summer. When it was time to go to college, I wanted to go very much.
When I arrived at college, I liked it. I liked the people and I liked my classes, and I started discovering things about myself I liked. I found writing the papers exciting and satisfying. I drew people to me, and I enjoyed being around them. They made it easy for me; they came to me. It didn't take long, though, before I discovered something about myself that wasn't as positive. I discovered I was actually quite afraid. I realized that during my high school years I had built my life in a very restricted and limited fashion- much of it, unconsciously- in order to feel safe. Now that I was outside of this previously constructed life, it was harder to feel secure. All of a sudden, I was seeing my limitations revealed and it was painful and disheartening. And it wasn't NEW fear, it was fear I'd always had but had cleverly navigated around. But now, it was getting increasingly more difficult to navigate. And now, I was really starting to hurt from all those years of restrictive, fearful thoughts.
Then one day, I wanted to take the bus to to the grocery store, but my friend Kelley didn't want to go with me. When she said she couldn't go, I felt panicked. I was able to get around campus, to go to my classes, but there were many other things I found too frightening to take on. She pointed out that I was always unwilling to go places (off-campus especially) without her and this was a problem for her, but more importantly, for me. She challenged me to deal with it. I was ashamed and I resolved to go to the store on my own the next day and begin to break the pattern.
That night, I was in such a panic over my trip that I asked my dreams for help. And they gave it.
I dreamt I was walking along a narrow , very long city street at dusk. On either side were city buildings, quite worn and dilapidated and there were street people lingering about. As I walked, the people would pull on me, grab, or touch me. I was unnerved and frightened, but continued. My eyes were on the horizon line where I was headed and I walked on in dread. Soon, my pace slowed and it was hard to move my legs and feet, then I found myself crawling, then barely crawling, then it was hard for me to see, and then I was virtually blind struggling along to make progress.
I awoke distressed . And then found myself trying to remember what I had planned to do the next day and I remembered my bus trip to the grocery store. It was then that I realized it was just a bus trip to the grocery store. I would not be facing that street, or that inability to move forward. A weight lifted off me and although I still had some anxiety, it was manageable and after that experience, I began building on getting out more and freeing myself.
I had felt scared when Kelley told me she wouldn't go with me. I felt hopeless in regards to me out in the world because I didn't understand my power. It's easy to feel resentful of other people when you've restricted yourself greatly, because you've restricted yourself specifically because of this sense of hopelessness about yourself. Other people become your reassurance, your hand to hold. Why did I need Kelley there when I didn't need Kelley there? There was an unanswered question in me that I tried to answer with her so I wouldn't have to look into where it hurt. I still feel the remains of that pattern. But if I want to grow, I have to release my attachment to seeing others as some how more powerful than me.
Sometimes, these days, I go for walks and listen to my ipod as I go. It's a favorite activity. This past week, I went for a walk and I was walking along feeling great and happened to look over at an old man in a lawn chair sitting out on his front yard. Even though I was "plugged in" and didn't know him, I mouthed "Hi" and smiled. He raised his whole arm up high and greeted me with great enthusiasm. I walked on feeling even better than I had before. And then yesterday, I was walking my same route and happened to look over at a house I look at often, only this time, there was a baby boy standing at the window, dressed in a blue sleeper, and he was waving to me.
One of my biggest challenges is to be willing to provide my own HOPE, to be willing to trust myself that I'll spot it around me , that it will come to me ( like the old man and the baby), and that I have the capacity to generate it . When you know you can generate hope, you are onto FAITH - faith in yourself and faith in something greater that draws good to you through your own expression of good. At those moments of despair, I believe that one is looking for evidence of one's own power and is afraid it is not there. That's the time to CREATE IT. That is the time to focus upon something we want, something we love, something that matters to us, and generate that good feeling. And in doing so, we become our own source of HOPE. And that then answers the question of our own power, because now we're feeling it - our ability to create something new.
Start where you are and build up from there, and know you can - that's what I've been thinking about.
Lots of love.
All is Well.
Jen
Pedalling Towards What You Want (written 2/12/07)
Hello people. People of my people. You're wonderful and you know it! Here's what I've been thinking about this week: garbage dumpsters, holes, learning to ride, and FAILURE. Let's roll!
A while back, while Sawyer and I were out for our morning before-school walk, we passed the large green dumpster in the alley, outside of the pizza place on the corner near where we live. If we take our usual route, we always pass this dumpster. However, this time there was something ON IT. This something seemed to have dripped down the front and formed a big mess - as though someone had vomited all over it (I'm sorry - I hope none of you are eating right now) and it was red in color. This mess both fascinated and greatly upset Sawyer who had to stop and stare and go into low level histrionics over it. What was it? Why was it there? It was gross! It was disgusting! He opted to turn away and walk a different direction rather than just simply walk past.
The next days were filled with much of the same as it became a bit of an obsession with him to check to see if the mess had been cleaned up or not. And when it hadn't been he would talk about it, focus on it, and stare at it in such a way that it would register in his body and make him start to wretch and gag. From the sidelines, I attempted to coach him away from the repugnant subject matter - the thing that was making him feel bad. I explained he could assume it would go away or get cleaned up soon, that it was only a dumpster, only some garbage and that was that. Suffice it to say, I encouraged him to pull his attention away from the offending material and get on with our walk. And we did. But he was hooked . Every day after that, until the mess was gone, he would examine the site (from a distance) to assess what remained of it and what was better. He was waiting for the external condition to release him from feeling bad; I was encouraging him to release himself regardless of the external condition.
Here's another example of something I think is relevant:
Sawyer wears sweat pants and recently, a hole opened in the knee of one pair; it was a small hole and I planned on sewing it up to get more use out of them. However, one day, I looked down at his pants and realized that he had so worked the hole with his finger that it could now accommodate his entire hand if he chose to stick it in there (which apparently, he had). He had taken something small and had focused upon it so relentlessly that he had made more and more of it. Now, when one looked at those pants, it was near to impossible NOT to think of the hole.
One more:
In the past, Bill and I have worked with the boys to learn to ride their bikes. We've worked with Max especially, as he is older, but not without great DRAMA on his part over the travails and challenges of THE BICYCLE. There was often so much screaming and melodrama over every step, each halt, bump, trip, leaning, that Bill and I grew to dread taking them out (as Sawyer was also challenging) and, at one point, Max himself gave the effort the kabash, declaring complete disinterest in riding his bike.
Over the last few days I started working with Sawyer on it again. Although he demanded the return of his Training Wheels, I explained that there's no way to learn to ride without training wheels if you've still got the training wheels on. It's quite the conflict, but one must give up one's original sense of security , in order to gain greater independence and ability. As we worked together he kept claiming "failure" and I kept emphasizing that there was no failure - there was only learning to BALANCE. I cried out "Success" at every point I could and by the end he was sufficiently and appropriately brainwashed into understanding the process of learning had been a SUCCESS and he went on to describe his experience to Bill in these terms.
Yesterday, we all went out for more bike riding lessons. Max, to my surprise, decided he wanted to go also. What I discovered with Max is that he already knows how to do it, but what he chants is, "This is hard! This is so hard! You don't know how hard this is!" over and over again. And every time he said that, coupled with any mechanical difficulty or awkwardness, he was convinced of FAILURE . He shared his screams, screeches, and exasperation openly with the neighborhood as he started and stopped, steered into things, dropped the bike, announced physical pains and repeated injuries, bowed his head in shame over his own exaggerated behavior and began again.
His mind found a hole, a dumpster in effect, upon which it fixated. More than the bike and the task at hand, he was wrestling with his THOUGHTS. How challenging it can be when you've found a "hole" to avoid unconsciously or consciously making it worse. But if you do make it worse, just like Sawyer's pants, you then EXPAND THE PROBLEM. And then it's even harder to focus on creating what you do want. Like Sawyer and the dumpster, Max was waiting for his EXTERNAL experience to release him from any difficult feelings, and the more he seemed to witness what he didn't want to have happen, the worse he felt, the more convinced of failure, and the hole got bigger and bigger and harder and harder not to focus on. That was what was so hard for Max, as, in actuality, he already has the mechanics of bicycle riding down.
From the other end of the street Bill could be heard working with Sawyer, teaching him to say , " I can do it" and Sawyer, who, for all his resistance and insecurity , will go ahead and embrace a NEW THOUGHT sometimes. And so, amidst toppling over, rolling out of control, peddling and temporarily gaining control he could be heard saying, " I can do it." over and over again. And so gradually, my dumpster-obsessed , hole-expanding son, took control of his THOUGHTS (and therefore his emotional state which reacts to what you're thinking), and peddled his way further and further away from what he didn't want, and closer and closer to what he does want: BALANCE.
It can be done.
One must leave the dumpsters and the holes and the belief in FAILURE behind. And when we close that door, our energies are freed to enter and infuse WHAT WE DO WANT.
With much love to you all this week.
All is Well.
Jen
p.s. by the end, Max did experience some "I can do it", and definite progress, although I'm not sure he sees it that way. . . yet. (Soon!)
A while back, while Sawyer and I were out for our morning before-school walk, we passed the large green dumpster in the alley, outside of the pizza place on the corner near where we live. If we take our usual route, we always pass this dumpster. However, this time there was something ON IT. This something seemed to have dripped down the front and formed a big mess - as though someone had vomited all over it (I'm sorry - I hope none of you are eating right now) and it was red in color. This mess both fascinated and greatly upset Sawyer who had to stop and stare and go into low level histrionics over it. What was it? Why was it there? It was gross! It was disgusting! He opted to turn away and walk a different direction rather than just simply walk past.
The next days were filled with much of the same as it became a bit of an obsession with him to check to see if the mess had been cleaned up or not. And when it hadn't been he would talk about it, focus on it, and stare at it in such a way that it would register in his body and make him start to wretch and gag. From the sidelines, I attempted to coach him away from the repugnant subject matter - the thing that was making him feel bad. I explained he could assume it would go away or get cleaned up soon, that it was only a dumpster, only some garbage and that was that. Suffice it to say, I encouraged him to pull his attention away from the offending material and get on with our walk. And we did. But he was hooked . Every day after that, until the mess was gone, he would examine the site (from a distance) to assess what remained of it and what was better. He was waiting for the external condition to release him from feeling bad; I was encouraging him to release himself regardless of the external condition.
Here's another example of something I think is relevant:
Sawyer wears sweat pants and recently, a hole opened in the knee of one pair; it was a small hole and I planned on sewing it up to get more use out of them. However, one day, I looked down at his pants and realized that he had so worked the hole with his finger that it could now accommodate his entire hand if he chose to stick it in there (which apparently, he had). He had taken something small and had focused upon it so relentlessly that he had made more and more of it. Now, when one looked at those pants, it was near to impossible NOT to think of the hole.
One more:
In the past, Bill and I have worked with the boys to learn to ride their bikes. We've worked with Max especially, as he is older, but not without great DRAMA on his part over the travails and challenges of THE BICYCLE. There was often so much screaming and melodrama over every step, each halt, bump, trip, leaning, that Bill and I grew to dread taking them out (as Sawyer was also challenging) and, at one point, Max himself gave the effort the kabash, declaring complete disinterest in riding his bike.
Over the last few days I started working with Sawyer on it again. Although he demanded the return of his Training Wheels, I explained that there's no way to learn to ride without training wheels if you've still got the training wheels on. It's quite the conflict, but one must give up one's original sense of security , in order to gain greater independence and ability. As we worked together he kept claiming "failure" and I kept emphasizing that there was no failure - there was only learning to BALANCE. I cried out "Success" at every point I could and by the end he was sufficiently and appropriately brainwashed into understanding the process of learning had been a SUCCESS and he went on to describe his experience to Bill in these terms.
Yesterday, we all went out for more bike riding lessons. Max, to my surprise, decided he wanted to go also. What I discovered with Max is that he already knows how to do it, but what he chants is, "This is hard! This is so hard! You don't know how hard this is!" over and over again. And every time he said that, coupled with any mechanical difficulty or awkwardness, he was convinced of FAILURE . He shared his screams, screeches, and exasperation openly with the neighborhood as he started and stopped, steered into things, dropped the bike, announced physical pains and repeated injuries, bowed his head in shame over his own exaggerated behavior and began again.
His mind found a hole, a dumpster in effect, upon which it fixated. More than the bike and the task at hand, he was wrestling with his THOUGHTS. How challenging it can be when you've found a "hole" to avoid unconsciously or consciously making it worse. But if you do make it worse, just like Sawyer's pants, you then EXPAND THE PROBLEM. And then it's even harder to focus on creating what you do want. Like Sawyer and the dumpster, Max was waiting for his EXTERNAL experience to release him from any difficult feelings, and the more he seemed to witness what he didn't want to have happen, the worse he felt, the more convinced of failure, and the hole got bigger and bigger and harder and harder not to focus on. That was what was so hard for Max, as, in actuality, he already has the mechanics of bicycle riding down.
From the other end of the street Bill could be heard working with Sawyer, teaching him to say , " I can do it" and Sawyer, who, for all his resistance and insecurity , will go ahead and embrace a NEW THOUGHT sometimes. And so, amidst toppling over, rolling out of control, peddling and temporarily gaining control he could be heard saying, " I can do it." over and over again. And so gradually, my dumpster-obsessed , hole-expanding son, took control of his THOUGHTS (and therefore his emotional state which reacts to what you're thinking), and peddled his way further and further away from what he didn't want, and closer and closer to what he does want: BALANCE.
It can be done.
One must leave the dumpsters and the holes and the belief in FAILURE behind. And when we close that door, our energies are freed to enter and infuse WHAT WE DO WANT.
With much love to you all this week.
All is Well.
Jen
p.s. by the end, Max did experience some "I can do it", and definite progress, although I'm not sure he sees it that way. . . yet. (Soon!)
Willingness (written 2/5/07)
Hello cute people.
This week, I've been thinking about FEAR - the big "F", trying to stay safe and being seen. Here we go!
Bill and I went to Costco (if anyone doesn't know - it's a giant warehouse store where you can buy large amounts o f things for cheaper) recently and had a check-out-person who was a man in his thirties with a face covered in what looked like acne. Every inch of his face had a red mark on it. He was a shorter man, thicker but not heavy, with hair that reached down to the base of his neck. It was a medium brown color and thin, and thinning on top. His face was very full looking with a rounder pug style nose and small eyes. I suppose, you could say that even without the acne, he would not have been very attractive , but there was nothing prohibitive about his looks - other than the acne - but even that, I felt equipped to overcome. But, it seemed, he did not.
Gruffly, he asked the woman behind us if a particular item was hers. He never looked up; he never made eye contact with me or Bill. There was no warmth to his voice, no effort to connect. He didn't want to be seen and he didn't want to take the chance on seeing anyone. I found myself wanting him to look up just for a moment, so I could connect to him a little, both for myself and to let him know that although the acne was seen, I was capable of seeing him as well. But clearly, he did not want to risk it. The experience emphasized for me how shame about yourself (in any way) closes you off from good. He looked like he was hating himself and hating us for seeing him. And this position leaves no room for anything better to come in.
This week, also, after having been interviewed about my book for my elementary/junior high alumni magazine by this lovely woman, she wrote me to ask if I might have a picture of myself to send. I had counted on her only running a picture of the cover of the book. When she asked for the picture, I have to admit, dread rolled through me. The desire not to be seen is fully present in me - just as it is in the unfriendly Costco worker. It doesn't matter that he seems to have a REASON and I don't; the feeling is there. This woman is so kind and unassuming, she assured me that if I wasn't comfortable with sending anything, it wasn't necessary. Quickly, my mind slipped this scenario on to see how it fit. Maybe it seem fine to pass! But it was no glass slipper to my cinderella self. I would have to cut off a toe or part of my heel (like the ugly stepsisters did ) to cram my foot into that one. Doing that was only going make me feel uglier inside and less authentic, confirming my already suspect belief there is reason to hide. Just like denying himself, and striving not to show ANY part of himself, was making our Costco friend feel uglier and less himself every moment. It's a tempting inclination, but one that only makes the situation worse.
I find myself thinking of a drawing my favorite art teacher made a long time ago. It was a very large (poster-sized) cartoon of a prisoner, dressed in his black and white striped uniform and hat. Attached to his ankle was a ball and chain, but the chain had broken and now the weight was separated from him. He was free! But his expression was of horror. She pointed out to us that sometimes when we find ourselves free, we're frightened of our new freedom. The "ball and chain" (whatever our version is), although restricting, makes us feel safe and grounded in some way even if we think we hate it and wish it gone.
I wonder if the Costco man's ball and chain of his skin condition isn't both hated by him for its RESTRICTION and also, on some level, clung to, for its SAFETY - after all, this way, he has given himself permission not to open to the world and take the risk of being and expressing his full self - which always requires letting go of worrying about what other people think, anyway. Is that the freedom he's afraid of? He may not be able to just step out of having the acne, but his thoughts are CHOSEN. He is free to think whatever he wants, he can step out of those thoughts if he summons the strength to make his choice from a place of caring about himself.
So willingness to be seen, known, heard, is freedom. And our unwillingness to compromise the integrity and authenticity of what we are, will enable us to find the slipper that does fit and will bring forth our Cinderella Self, the beautiful we already are.
I guess I'll be taking some pictures this week.
Lots of love to you.
All is Well.
Jen
This week, I've been thinking about FEAR - the big "F", trying to stay safe and being seen. Here we go!
Bill and I went to Costco (if anyone doesn't know - it's a giant warehouse store where you can buy large amounts o f things for cheaper) recently and had a check-out-person who was a man in his thirties with a face covered in what looked like acne. Every inch of his face had a red mark on it. He was a shorter man, thicker but not heavy, with hair that reached down to the base of his neck. It was a medium brown color and thin, and thinning on top. His face was very full looking with a rounder pug style nose and small eyes. I suppose, you could say that even without the acne, he would not have been very attractive , but there was nothing prohibitive about his looks - other than the acne - but even that, I felt equipped to overcome. But, it seemed, he did not.
Gruffly, he asked the woman behind us if a particular item was hers. He never looked up; he never made eye contact with me or Bill. There was no warmth to his voice, no effort to connect. He didn't want to be seen and he didn't want to take the chance on seeing anyone. I found myself wanting him to look up just for a moment, so I could connect to him a little, both for myself and to let him know that although the acne was seen, I was capable of seeing him as well. But clearly, he did not want to risk it. The experience emphasized for me how shame about yourself (in any way) closes you off from good. He looked like he was hating himself and hating us for seeing him. And this position leaves no room for anything better to come in.
This week, also, after having been interviewed about my book for my elementary/junior high alumni magazine by this lovely woman, she wrote me to ask if I might have a picture of myself to send. I had counted on her only running a picture of the cover of the book. When she asked for the picture, I have to admit, dread rolled through me. The desire not to be seen is fully present in me - just as it is in the unfriendly Costco worker. It doesn't matter that he seems to have a REASON and I don't; the feeling is there. This woman is so kind and unassuming, she assured me that if I wasn't comfortable with sending anything, it wasn't necessary. Quickly, my mind slipped this scenario on to see how it fit. Maybe it seem fine to pass! But it was no glass slipper to my cinderella self. I would have to cut off a toe or part of my heel (like the ugly stepsisters did ) to cram my foot into that one. Doing that was only going make me feel uglier inside and less authentic, confirming my already suspect belief there is reason to hide. Just like denying himself, and striving not to show ANY part of himself, was making our Costco friend feel uglier and less himself every moment. It's a tempting inclination, but one that only makes the situation worse.
I find myself thinking of a drawing my favorite art teacher made a long time ago. It was a very large (poster-sized) cartoon of a prisoner, dressed in his black and white striped uniform and hat. Attached to his ankle was a ball and chain, but the chain had broken and now the weight was separated from him. He was free! But his expression was of horror. She pointed out to us that sometimes when we find ourselves free, we're frightened of our new freedom. The "ball and chain" (whatever our version is), although restricting, makes us feel safe and grounded in some way even if we think we hate it and wish it gone.
I wonder if the Costco man's ball and chain of his skin condition isn't both hated by him for its RESTRICTION and also, on some level, clung to, for its SAFETY - after all, this way, he has given himself permission not to open to the world and take the risk of being and expressing his full self - which always requires letting go of worrying about what other people think, anyway. Is that the freedom he's afraid of? He may not be able to just step out of having the acne, but his thoughts are CHOSEN. He is free to think whatever he wants, he can step out of those thoughts if he summons the strength to make his choice from a place of caring about himself.
So willingness to be seen, known, heard, is freedom. And our unwillingness to compromise the integrity and authenticity of what we are, will enable us to find the slipper that does fit and will bring forth our Cinderella Self, the beautiful we already are.
I guess I'll be taking some pictures this week.
Lots of love to you.
All is Well.
Jen
Waiting For Us (written 1/29/07)
Anything is possible you great people. Tell yourself what you most want to hear and let yourself feel glad to hear it.
This week I've been thinking about my rubber tree plant, freedom, and change. Let's get it all going!
Back in the spring of 2006, I was working to complete the drawings for Violet Bing. It was taking longer than I'd anticipated; I was anxious about how I would do and getting them in on time. Every day was a challenge. I even had a CD on affirmations/spiritual self-help that I played daily as I sat down to work. It took a monumental effort, at that time, to calm my nerves, to believe that I could do it, to push aside the doubt and the pain from the doubt, and simply allow myself to work. But I did - and it gradually got easier. I told Bill that I didn't want to "white knuckle" through; I wanted to remain connected to how much I wanted this work, willing, and grateful for the opportunity. I wanted to grow through the experience not just make it through. I'd gotten myself used to being terribly afraid of challenges, and then forcing myself to face them. But when I white knuckle through, I've found, there is a high likely hood that the fear simply returns and more importantly my concerns about my not being able to handle those fearful feelings return. And I'm no freer nor confident in the end.
I remember being in the kitchen at that time and looking over at my rubber tree plant. It had only two leaves at the top of a long stem. Its' soil was dry; everything about it looked held in a state of perpetual almost- dying. And for some reason, that day, I decided that I was truly going to care for it. I was going to pay attention and make a point of tending it. I realize that this seems much more logical than not caring for it but I have a long history of neglecting my plants in which I forget to water them for long periods of time. Only when I finally see them at death's door, do I finally give them the nourishment they need - returning quickly to the same pattern of neglect. I'd come to think of myself as a kind of negative life force that unintentionally tortures plants. I had tried to accept this about myself by periodically throwing out near to dead plants and vowing never to buy another, but there was something about this position that never seemed to stick and I often found myself back with one or two plants in need of attention.
And so, on that fateful day, I began watering my rubber tree- but this time it was different because I wasn't just watering it to prolong its misery, I was watering to nurture and with the intention of continuing . And I did continue. Over the next month things changed. Immediately, the bud that had been there frozen in time for years, instantly opened and bloomed into a new leaf. I was quite gratified and praised and complimented the plant (part of my new loving relationship to it). Then, week after week, more and more buds appeared and more and more leaves. It was as though all of this growth and new life had been there all along, just WAITING for me. And every time I saw a new leaf, I felt a sense of validation of my work on my book and my own (saved up) growth I was allowing to bloom.
Bill just left his job (as I wrote about the other week) and the other day we realized that all those years he was waiting for freedom to come to him, for something outside to set him free (from a job he didn't really want) he was really wanting to know he could change things and set HIMSELF free.
The plant wasn't locked in a state of non-growth. Bill wasn't locked in a place of non-growth. I wasn't locked out of growing and never could be (although that was my fear). Regardless of what we do or the apparent state of of things, we are all STORING our growth within us. The danger is that I might wait so long for the plant to PROVE TO ME THAT IT WILL THRIVE BEFORE I'M WILLING TO CARE FOR IT that I actually might weaken it. I think, sometimes we wait for life to show us we're able and free but life is actually WAITING FOR US . Our new lives, our new selves, our expanded selves are WAITING for us. And when we give that potential attention and care, we bloom. Free at last, always having, in fact, been free.
"You are so free you can create bondage."
- Abraham-Hicks
All is Well.
Lots of love,
Jen
This week I've been thinking about my rubber tree plant, freedom, and change. Let's get it all going!
Back in the spring of 2006, I was working to complete the drawings for Violet Bing. It was taking longer than I'd anticipated; I was anxious about how I would do and getting them in on time. Every day was a challenge. I even had a CD on affirmations/spiritual self-help that I played daily as I sat down to work. It took a monumental effort, at that time, to calm my nerves, to believe that I could do it, to push aside the doubt and the pain from the doubt, and simply allow myself to work. But I did - and it gradually got easier. I told Bill that I didn't want to "white knuckle" through; I wanted to remain connected to how much I wanted this work, willing, and grateful for the opportunity. I wanted to grow through the experience not just make it through. I'd gotten myself used to being terribly afraid of challenges, and then forcing myself to face them. But when I white knuckle through, I've found, there is a high likely hood that the fear simply returns and more importantly my concerns about my not being able to handle those fearful feelings return. And I'm no freer nor confident in the end.
I remember being in the kitchen at that time and looking over at my rubber tree plant. It had only two leaves at the top of a long stem. Its' soil was dry; everything about it looked held in a state of perpetual almost- dying. And for some reason, that day, I decided that I was truly going to care for it. I was going to pay attention and make a point of tending it. I realize that this seems much more logical than not caring for it but I have a long history of neglecting my plants in which I forget to water them for long periods of time. Only when I finally see them at death's door, do I finally give them the nourishment they need - returning quickly to the same pattern of neglect. I'd come to think of myself as a kind of negative life force that unintentionally tortures plants. I had tried to accept this about myself by periodically throwing out near to dead plants and vowing never to buy another, but there was something about this position that never seemed to stick and I often found myself back with one or two plants in need of attention.
And so, on that fateful day, I began watering my rubber tree- but this time it was different because I wasn't just watering it to prolong its misery, I was watering to nurture and with the intention of continuing . And I did continue. Over the next month things changed. Immediately, the bud that had been there frozen in time for years, instantly opened and bloomed into a new leaf. I was quite gratified and praised and complimented the plant (part of my new loving relationship to it). Then, week after week, more and more buds appeared and more and more leaves. It was as though all of this growth and new life had been there all along, just WAITING for me. And every time I saw a new leaf, I felt a sense of validation of my work on my book and my own (saved up) growth I was allowing to bloom.
Bill just left his job (as I wrote about the other week) and the other day we realized that all those years he was waiting for freedom to come to him, for something outside to set him free (from a job he didn't really want) he was really wanting to know he could change things and set HIMSELF free.
The plant wasn't locked in a state of non-growth. Bill wasn't locked in a place of non-growth. I wasn't locked out of growing and never could be (although that was my fear). Regardless of what we do or the apparent state of of things, we are all STORING our growth within us. The danger is that I might wait so long for the plant to PROVE TO ME THAT IT WILL THRIVE BEFORE I'M WILLING TO CARE FOR IT that I actually might weaken it. I think, sometimes we wait for life to show us we're able and free but life is actually WAITING FOR US . Our new lives, our new selves, our expanded selves are WAITING for us. And when we give that potential attention and care, we bloom. Free at last, always having, in fact, been free.
"You are so free you can create bondage."
- Abraham-Hicks
All is Well.
Lots of love,
Jen
Factor X (written 1/22/07)
Hello you Individuals with your own preferences, opinions, ways, and ideas. You're looking particularly glorious today. Really. Better than ever. And so am I, I might add! Here's what I've been thinking about this week: Overflowing, Overreacting, Scratch, Scratch, FACTOR X, and Letting Go.
Let's start.
I'm striving to learn to let things go. One thing I've determined is that in order to "let go" I must detach from the drama of any situation. That means that I've got to back up and gain greater perspective, I don't get to squirm around in story details and emotional reactions . I have to put that aside and work to allow something better to unfold.
Here's an example of me struggling with this.
Just the other day, I was using the bathroom and had finished. ( In an attempt to be polite, but still communicative, I will tell you that it wasn't only pee.) I looked down into the toilet and saw that there was hardly any water there. I know from previous experience (with a toilet that likes to overflow) that this is a sign of trouble to come, and most likely, with the next flush, it will. But, rather than heed what I knew, intellectually and instinctively, I flushed. The toilet water rose uncontrollably up and up. I yelled (as though surprised ), threw open the cabinet door where the main water control is and turned it off - just in the nick of time. Now it was time to plunge - I knew this. But yet, instead of simply doing it and doing my best, I screamed out in anger, blame, irritation through the bathroom door, out to the living room where I knew Bill was, so he could hear how upset I was. I was yelling about the impossibility of the situation, all the while (really) knowing that it wasn't so impossible. After engaging fully and shamelessly in the DRAMA, I settled in to work and with hardly any mess or bother, normalcy was returned. The water was turned back on and so was my sanity. Sort of.
I was not happy with my behavior and now had to make a short speech of reflective apology to Bill, wondering out loud, why I had chosen to get myself so distressed and make the situation WORSE. I didn't have a clear answer. And the day wore on only to reveal more of my penchant for this sort of thing when I inadvertently switched off an e-mail I was working on for a while and couldn't find it. The ugliness I let spew forth as Max and Bill cautiously approached trying to help, is embarrassing. Again, I knew that this needn't be made into a big deal. I could write the e-mail again. It wasn't really all that important to me. I didn't even know if I felt good about sending that particular version of it, etc. But still - something in me - let's call it FACTOR X- cried out for control.
Now, here's an example that's not about me (finally).
Sawyer has often had an inclination to get itchy spots. Often, this has occurred at night when he is trying to settle in for sleep (not an easy project for him). He'll scratch away in the dark, then appear at the doorway of his bedroom, with one hand over his eyes to block the light, and the other hand clutching the problem limb - usually a leg. In the past, I've taken a cold wash cloth to it, and then blown on it a little, reminded him how it must be left alone and reassured him it will go away quickly. He has been satisfied with this in the past. Recently, however, he has been scratching more and successful at raising more little bumps on his skin. He scratches his belly and different spots on his arms and legs. Because of whatever discomfort or lack of ease is running through him, he will scratch an area that is problem -free and manage, in a short amount of time, to create a problem. It is amazingly FRUSTRATING to watch someone in this process of first Creating a Problem, and then going on to OVER focus on it and SCRATCH at it until it becomes WORSE.
Just like Me, Sawyer is getting Signals. These signals are coming from his intellect, intuition, and emotional self and they're letting him know something is UP. It is time to proceed with caution, to actively, deliberately choose what he wants. It is the moment of choice - of deliberate creation.
At this point, for everyone whose received a signal, It's time to take hold of our thoughts and make a choice, but if we ignore the signal, and don't become conscious of what we really want, what happens is, SOMETHING needs to take control and command and so steps in FACTOR X which operates completely from the premise of trying and wanting to control everything OUTSIDE of ourselves. And, of course, as soon as we do this, we feel OUT OF CONTROL, because we know, in our hearts, it simply cannot be done. So, in learning to Let Go - what exactly, needs to be let go of? I would guess: FACTOR X because it is a poor substitute for a genuine need, which is to take true command, in the moment, and work to create what we really want.
So, the next time I find myself scratching away and making a situation worse, I am going to strive to remember who I really want in control: FACTOR X or the Real Me and let the Drama (and the scratching) and the Problem go away.
It's a somewhat long road people, but it changes regularly, and I'm glad to be traveling it with the likes of you.
Take Care.
All is Well.
Love,
Jen
Let's start.
I'm striving to learn to let things go. One thing I've determined is that in order to "let go" I must detach from the drama of any situation. That means that I've got to back up and gain greater perspective, I don't get to squirm around in story details and emotional reactions . I have to put that aside and work to allow something better to unfold.
Here's an example of me struggling with this.
Just the other day, I was using the bathroom and had finished. ( In an attempt to be polite, but still communicative, I will tell you that it wasn't only pee.) I looked down into the toilet and saw that there was hardly any water there. I know from previous experience (with a toilet that likes to overflow) that this is a sign of trouble to come, and most likely, with the next flush, it will. But, rather than heed what I knew, intellectually and instinctively, I flushed. The toilet water rose uncontrollably up and up. I yelled (as though surprised ), threw open the cabinet door where the main water control is and turned it off - just in the nick of time. Now it was time to plunge - I knew this. But yet, instead of simply doing it and doing my best, I screamed out in anger, blame, irritation through the bathroom door, out to the living room where I knew Bill was, so he could hear how upset I was. I was yelling about the impossibility of the situation, all the while (really) knowing that it wasn't so impossible. After engaging fully and shamelessly in the DRAMA, I settled in to work and with hardly any mess or bother, normalcy was returned. The water was turned back on and so was my sanity. Sort of.
I was not happy with my behavior and now had to make a short speech of reflective apology to Bill, wondering out loud, why I had chosen to get myself so distressed and make the situation WORSE. I didn't have a clear answer. And the day wore on only to reveal more of my penchant for this sort of thing when I inadvertently switched off an e-mail I was working on for a while and couldn't find it. The ugliness I let spew forth as Max and Bill cautiously approached trying to help, is embarrassing. Again, I knew that this needn't be made into a big deal. I could write the e-mail again. It wasn't really all that important to me. I didn't even know if I felt good about sending that particular version of it, etc. But still - something in me - let's call it FACTOR X- cried out for control.
Now, here's an example that's not about me (finally).
Sawyer has often had an inclination to get itchy spots. Often, this has occurred at night when he is trying to settle in for sleep (not an easy project for him). He'll scratch away in the dark, then appear at the doorway of his bedroom, with one hand over his eyes to block the light, and the other hand clutching the problem limb - usually a leg. In the past, I've taken a cold wash cloth to it, and then blown on it a little, reminded him how it must be left alone and reassured him it will go away quickly. He has been satisfied with this in the past. Recently, however, he has been scratching more and successful at raising more little bumps on his skin. He scratches his belly and different spots on his arms and legs. Because of whatever discomfort or lack of ease is running through him, he will scratch an area that is problem -free and manage, in a short amount of time, to create a problem. It is amazingly FRUSTRATING to watch someone in this process of first Creating a Problem, and then going on to OVER focus on it and SCRATCH at it until it becomes WORSE.
Just like Me, Sawyer is getting Signals. These signals are coming from his intellect, intuition, and emotional self and they're letting him know something is UP. It is time to proceed with caution, to actively, deliberately choose what he wants. It is the moment of choice - of deliberate creation.
At this point, for everyone whose received a signal, It's time to take hold of our thoughts and make a choice, but if we ignore the signal, and don't become conscious of what we really want, what happens is, SOMETHING needs to take control and command and so steps in FACTOR X which operates completely from the premise of trying and wanting to control everything OUTSIDE of ourselves. And, of course, as soon as we do this, we feel OUT OF CONTROL, because we know, in our hearts, it simply cannot be done. So, in learning to Let Go - what exactly, needs to be let go of? I would guess: FACTOR X because it is a poor substitute for a genuine need, which is to take true command, in the moment, and work to create what we really want.
So, the next time I find myself scratching away and making a situation worse, I am going to strive to remember who I really want in control: FACTOR X or the Real Me and let the Drama (and the scratching) and the Problem go away.
It's a somewhat long road people, but it changes regularly, and I'm glad to be traveling it with the likes of you.
Take Care.
All is Well.
Love,
Jen
Decide Ahead of Time (written 1/15/07)
This week I've been thinking about kleenex, lozenges, and the raw, chapped skin under my nose. Yes, my whole body (primarily my head) has been thinking about a COLD. I've also been thinking about introducing the new, leaps of faith, and creating/loving what I want. The cold is clearing; hopefully my thinking is too. Let's give this a whirl.
This week, Bill told people at the restaurant where he works that he will be leaving his job come January 27th. He has been working with a woman who owns her own company, doing some technical/copy writing. She has not promised him a job, but she has let him know that it is a distinct possibility; he is becoming her support staff with her intention to create a team, hiring two other people (besides Bill) to flesh it out. Bill has worked at this restaurant for over sixteen years. He has worked as a waiter for twenty. During this time, his plan was to keep writing his books and when one of them got published and made lots of money, he would leave the restaurant. The restaurant became a kind of jail he was waiting to get out of. In fact, when he announced to his coworkers that he was leaving, every single one of them said, "Oh, you're getting out." Apparently, seeing themselves as somewhat compromised, stuck, and trapped is part of the experience there.
I have listened to Bill fight for his limitations (in this area) for many years, whenever we discussed the topic of him leaving the restaurant (without it coming from the success of one of his books). I have watched him in agony over the painful thoughts he's believed about himself and lack of opportunity, and I've also gotten to watch (over the last 1-2 years) him shift out of this perspective and open himself up to something NEW, new ways of seeing himself and the situation. What he once thought was immovable, "real" and the the "truth", he is now trading in for other ideas of what can be "real" and the "truth". And, regardless of what happens, exactly, with this new work, he is stepping outside of his old paradigm and taking the leap of faith to a new paradigm.
Last week, I wrote about the essay I'm working on for a children's book writers/illustrators publication about writer's block and getting stuck. This week, in working on it again, I realized that I've always thought that if I just faced my fears, I would get to experience transformation and freedom. But facing fear does not actually equal transformation nor freedom. You can spend your life facing fear after fear, remain fearful, and simply generate more things to feel afraid of, white knuckling your way through without real change.
Facing fear is part of the equation - the part where we stand before the door and open it. The second part, requires us to EMBRACE THE NEW THOUGHT - the thought that makes us feel better, more hopeful, and encouraged than the thought we were thinking when we were so afraid. And when we invest in that thought, we step through the door. That's when true change comes. Because when we choose to believe something new about ourselves and our potential and opportunity, we are embracing the fact that we are creating our lives. We put ourselves back at the wheel, empowered. Then, facing our fear becomes an opportunity not just to experience a little movement in the moment (minus the limitation of that current fear) but to experience a more freeing way of seeing our lives.
A while back, I was listening to a cd and the man told a story about an elderly woman. She was very old and her husband of many years (something amazing like 70 years together) had just recently died. She was legally blind and had other medical problems and so had to leave their beloved home of many years to go into an assisted living apartment. The person who was helping her move told her of the apartment in plain, descriptive terms to give her a sense of what she was going to. She said, "Oh, I just love it!" and the person said, "But you haven't seen it and we haven't arranged the furniture yet." And the woman said, "It doesn't matter. I've arranged it in my mind. I've decided ahead of time to love it!"
When we make a commitment to that new thought, it's like that woman embracing her new apartment. It is an act of love of life to decide "ahead of time" to embrace and appreciate what is yours- whatever it is in the moment and whatever is coming to you. And in deciding ahead of time both what you want and what you love, you are activating your ability to work with whatever is before you and decide HOW you want to feel about it; you are taking a leap of faith and are finally "getting out" from whatever jail you've been in. Just like Bill is doing and just like all of us can.
Thanks for listening everyone. I appreciate it.
Lots of love.
All is Well,
Jen
This week, Bill told people at the restaurant where he works that he will be leaving his job come January 27th. He has been working with a woman who owns her own company, doing some technical/copy writing. She has not promised him a job, but she has let him know that it is a distinct possibility; he is becoming her support staff with her intention to create a team, hiring two other people (besides Bill) to flesh it out. Bill has worked at this restaurant for over sixteen years. He has worked as a waiter for twenty. During this time, his plan was to keep writing his books and when one of them got published and made lots of money, he would leave the restaurant. The restaurant became a kind of jail he was waiting to get out of. In fact, when he announced to his coworkers that he was leaving, every single one of them said, "Oh, you're getting out." Apparently, seeing themselves as somewhat compromised, stuck, and trapped is part of the experience there.
I have listened to Bill fight for his limitations (in this area) for many years, whenever we discussed the topic of him leaving the restaurant (without it coming from the success of one of his books). I have watched him in agony over the painful thoughts he's believed about himself and lack of opportunity, and I've also gotten to watch (over the last 1-2 years) him shift out of this perspective and open himself up to something NEW, new ways of seeing himself and the situation. What he once thought was immovable, "real" and the the "truth", he is now trading in for other ideas of what can be "real" and the "truth". And, regardless of what happens, exactly, with this new work, he is stepping outside of his old paradigm and taking the leap of faith to a new paradigm.
Last week, I wrote about the essay I'm working on for a children's book writers/illustrators publication about writer's block and getting stuck. This week, in working on it again, I realized that I've always thought that if I just faced my fears, I would get to experience transformation and freedom. But facing fear does not actually equal transformation nor freedom. You can spend your life facing fear after fear, remain fearful, and simply generate more things to feel afraid of, white knuckling your way through without real change.
Facing fear is part of the equation - the part where we stand before the door and open it. The second part, requires us to EMBRACE THE NEW THOUGHT - the thought that makes us feel better, more hopeful, and encouraged than the thought we were thinking when we were so afraid. And when we invest in that thought, we step through the door. That's when true change comes. Because when we choose to believe something new about ourselves and our potential and opportunity, we are embracing the fact that we are creating our lives. We put ourselves back at the wheel, empowered. Then, facing our fear becomes an opportunity not just to experience a little movement in the moment (minus the limitation of that current fear) but to experience a more freeing way of seeing our lives.
A while back, I was listening to a cd and the man told a story about an elderly woman. She was very old and her husband of many years (something amazing like 70 years together) had just recently died. She was legally blind and had other medical problems and so had to leave their beloved home of many years to go into an assisted living apartment. The person who was helping her move told her of the apartment in plain, descriptive terms to give her a sense of what she was going to. She said, "Oh, I just love it!" and the person said, "But you haven't seen it and we haven't arranged the furniture yet." And the woman said, "It doesn't matter. I've arranged it in my mind. I've decided ahead of time to love it!"
When we make a commitment to that new thought, it's like that woman embracing her new apartment. It is an act of love of life to decide "ahead of time" to embrace and appreciate what is yours- whatever it is in the moment and whatever is coming to you. And in deciding ahead of time both what you want and what you love, you are activating your ability to work with whatever is before you and decide HOW you want to feel about it; you are taking a leap of faith and are finally "getting out" from whatever jail you've been in. Just like Bill is doing and just like all of us can.
Thanks for listening everyone. I appreciate it.
Lots of love.
All is Well,
Jen
Your Best Effort (written 1/8/07)
Hello busy, striving people. This week I've been thinking about SUPPORT, looking for support from others, feeling unsupported, and learning what real self-support is and losing your mind (temporarily) when you think you don't have it.
Saturday was Sawyer's eighth birthday and I spent the week thinking about it and running around doing errands to pick out presents, the cake, party decorations, pinata etc. I found the tasks much more time-consuming than I'd imagined, the planning more , and the lack of interest (emotional or otherwise) and participation from Bill disconcerting. I shook his tree, but hardly any fruit fell. I shook again, nothing. And one last time, zilch. He was preoccupied with the new work he's been endeavoring to learn (technical/copy writing); he also had some sadness about Sawyer's lack of friends which I also felt (we had a family party instead), and withdrew a bit because of it. In general, he just kind of dropped out attention and presence-wise.
Quietly, I judged him harshly, felt unsupported- maybe even unloved, filed it away under "Poor me" and "Reasons I am Right" and went on taking care of things. Or so I thought. By Thursday , I was buying presents in the morning, and baking and frosting cookies for Sawyer's class in the afternoon. I was in good spirits, actually, as I wanted to be doing what I was doing. Still, lurking in the background was resentment towards Bill and an eerily familiar "There's too much on me." thought. But I continued. Bill returned home from his day shift to find me apron-ed, bustling, and proud. All the cookies were baked, now I was spreading the icing and adding the decorative sprinkles. I was impressed with myself. I showed him the presents; he approved. All was well - was it not?
Next, Max returned home from school and joined our conversation as I wrapped up the icing/decorating. Carefully, I began layering the cookies between sheets of wax paper in a plastic tupperware-like container. There were twenty seven cookies and they seemed a little cramped in the container, but still, I thought they'd be alright. I sealed up the lid. But, the thought that I'd overstuffed the container concerned me and so I opened it again and took a look. To my great distress, the cookies were not actually as dry as I had thought and they were sticking to the wax paper.
"All right. There's no need to panic; these are just cookies; they certainly can be salvaged; maybe it's not so bad."
No, none of these thoughts went through my mind when I made this discovery, I am sorry to say. Instead, I chose to take all of my frustration, sore feelings at Bill, overwhelmed feelings, feelings of not being supported, and turn them into one of the ugliest displays of sheer frustration one could hope to witness. Groaning and screaming could be heard, wax paper melodramatically crumpled, stomping, storming, slamming of cabinet doors resulting in bruised and somewhat swollen (later) thumb, marching self-righteously away from one's mistake into the cold backyard in one's apron, standing in full pout with one's back to one's responsibility-driven house, filled with children and a husband (evil) who just brings you more things to do, or leaves them for you to do. Then, the stinky, rotten return, more pouting, followed by profuse apology for the obvious and grotesque overreaction.
Now, what the heck was that?
Well, here's what storm hit me - I think. Although I wanted to do everything I did in preparation for Sawyer's party, there was something missing. And because Bill was conveniently checking out a bit, I was able to direct my anger at him. However, the anger was really at me. Feeling a sense of support always has to come from within (first). Self-support comes from absolute trust in your own knowing what is true for you. Your unprovable truth is what you know and feel to be, even if another has not experienced this. Although I was doing the things I wanted , I was not validating myself; I was still looking for external validation to provide the support I needed. So, even though my tasks were humanly do-able, by the time I arrived at my Cookie Mistake, it was clear to me that I would NEVER get that validation from outside - because the cookies looked like _____ and I was angry!
It is more than legitimate to want and ask for help. This is a good thing. If you're carrying six bags, and he's carrying three, asking him to take two makes sense . That's working together and mutually supportive. And Bill and I had that conversation. But then, there's the issue of looking to Bill to give me something he simply CANNOT. And what I realized, after a week and a half of this, is that although I want him "checked-in", what I really need is to feel self-support, support of myself from me and there is no way Bill can give that. He can tell me those cookies look good from now till Sawyer goes off to college (or gets his first tattoo) but it is not the same, nor as necessary as my own validation and support of my own efforts. I can look to him all I want, but the truth is I don't want to be DEPENDENT on him for support.
I think a true feeling of deep support comes from being giving to yourself, validating your own way, your own truth and actively appreciating your best effort and what is meaningful to you. Surely, that must be the source of real backbone, strength of character, and support.
With much love.
All is Well,
Jen
Saturday was Sawyer's eighth birthday and I spent the week thinking about it and running around doing errands to pick out presents, the cake, party decorations, pinata etc. I found the tasks much more time-consuming than I'd imagined, the planning more , and the lack of interest (emotional or otherwise) and participation from Bill disconcerting. I shook his tree, but hardly any fruit fell. I shook again, nothing. And one last time, zilch. He was preoccupied with the new work he's been endeavoring to learn (technical/copy writing); he also had some sadness about Sawyer's lack of friends which I also felt (we had a family party instead), and withdrew a bit because of it. In general, he just kind of dropped out attention and presence-wise.
Quietly, I judged him harshly, felt unsupported- maybe even unloved, filed it away under "Poor me" and "Reasons I am Right" and went on taking care of things. Or so I thought. By Thursday , I was buying presents in the morning, and baking and frosting cookies for Sawyer's class in the afternoon. I was in good spirits, actually, as I wanted to be doing what I was doing. Still, lurking in the background was resentment towards Bill and an eerily familiar "There's too much on me." thought. But I continued. Bill returned home from his day shift to find me apron-ed, bustling, and proud. All the cookies were baked, now I was spreading the icing and adding the decorative sprinkles. I was impressed with myself. I showed him the presents; he approved. All was well - was it not?
Next, Max returned home from school and joined our conversation as I wrapped up the icing/decorating. Carefully, I began layering the cookies between sheets of wax paper in a plastic tupperware-like container. There were twenty seven cookies and they seemed a little cramped in the container, but still, I thought they'd be alright. I sealed up the lid. But, the thought that I'd overstuffed the container concerned me and so I opened it again and took a look. To my great distress, the cookies were not actually as dry as I had thought and they were sticking to the wax paper.
"All right. There's no need to panic; these are just cookies; they certainly can be salvaged; maybe it's not so bad."
No, none of these thoughts went through my mind when I made this discovery, I am sorry to say. Instead, I chose to take all of my frustration, sore feelings at Bill, overwhelmed feelings, feelings of not being supported, and turn them into one of the ugliest displays of sheer frustration one could hope to witness. Groaning and screaming could be heard, wax paper melodramatically crumpled, stomping, storming, slamming of cabinet doors resulting in bruised and somewhat swollen (later) thumb, marching self-righteously away from one's mistake into the cold backyard in one's apron, standing in full pout with one's back to one's responsibility-driven house, filled with children and a husband (evil) who just brings you more things to do, or leaves them for you to do. Then, the stinky, rotten return, more pouting, followed by profuse apology for the obvious and grotesque overreaction.
Now, what the heck was that?
Well, here's what storm hit me - I think. Although I wanted to do everything I did in preparation for Sawyer's party, there was something missing. And because Bill was conveniently checking out a bit, I was able to direct my anger at him. However, the anger was really at me. Feeling a sense of support always has to come from within (first). Self-support comes from absolute trust in your own knowing what is true for you. Your unprovable truth is what you know and feel to be, even if another has not experienced this. Although I was doing the things I wanted , I was not validating myself; I was still looking for external validation to provide the support I needed. So, even though my tasks were humanly do-able, by the time I arrived at my Cookie Mistake, it was clear to me that I would NEVER get that validation from outside - because the cookies looked like _____ and I was angry!
It is more than legitimate to want and ask for help. This is a good thing. If you're carrying six bags, and he's carrying three, asking him to take two makes sense . That's working together and mutually supportive. And Bill and I had that conversation. But then, there's the issue of looking to Bill to give me something he simply CANNOT. And what I realized, after a week and a half of this, is that although I want him "checked-in", what I really need is to feel self-support, support of myself from me and there is no way Bill can give that. He can tell me those cookies look good from now till Sawyer goes off to college (or gets his first tattoo) but it is not the same, nor as necessary as my own validation and support of my own efforts. I can look to him all I want, but the truth is I don't want to be DEPENDENT on him for support.
I think a true feeling of deep support comes from being giving to yourself, validating your own way, your own truth and actively appreciating your best effort and what is meaningful to you. Surely, that must be the source of real backbone, strength of character, and support.
With much love.
All is Well,
Jen
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