Hello Jen News recipients! I have been working on another story and so have no been so inclined to write weekly, but I'd still like to continue.
This week in the NEWS. . . What's wrong with Robby Lewenstein? Jen is Happy Even Though Her Child Throws Up Repeatedly, and finally, The Voice that Speaks Drama. Grab a cup of tea (not too roughly) and join me, won't you?
Years and years and years ago (about ten years into my time here on planet earth), I remember riding the school bus home and talking with some friends as Robby Lewenstein got off at his stop. Robby was a dark, fuzzy headed individual with a fair, soft complexion and a body which was not fat, but remained undefined and seemingly out of focus. He was not an energetic presence. As we watched him distractedly rise from his seat and awkwardly approach the doors of the bus, we engaged in energized discussion and thought that was of this fabric:
"He eats paste you know. Have you seen him? It is reported that he eats paste. I've seen him. Gross. (All concur). He picks his nose and eats it (general repulsion). Have you seen him? Have there been actual witnesses? We would never eat paste. Why would you eat paste? We would never pick our noses and eat it - that's disgusting, that's bad, that's gross. What is wrong with Robby Lewenstein? Why does Robby Lewenstein behave in this way? We should shun Robby Lewenstein; we should ignore him. We should not engage with him at all. He is his actions. Those actions are gross and we cannot distinguish Robby Lewenstein from his actions."
When we are feeling uncomfortable, unsafe, or distressed, it is not uncommon for us to ask ourselves What is Wrong?
What is wrong with Me? What's Wrong With You? What is Wrong with Him/Her?
And then, we spend a lot of time pondering this until we're really miserable. Because when we ask our brains the question What is Wrong, like an obedient dog, it runs to fetch everything that could conceivably be perceived as wrong . And we asked for it. And then, with this evidence, we believe this truth of "Wrongness" has been validated - scientifically proven. When, in fact, we could have just as easily asked what is right and been brought evidence of that.
When I think of how we related to Robby, I think of the ways in which we relate to ourselves. Understanding that we are not what we do; we are not what we think, or even how we present takes much more intelligence than sitting in judgment of another or ourselves. When we ask what is wrong with us or others, we set ourselves on a path of Not Seeing for we are participating in a kind of negativity rain dance, summoning the powers of dark thinking to enlighten us. And it doesn't work that way. No dark thoughts are going to help us see and understand better - not about ourselves, and not about others. And even though "What's Wrong?" seems to pose as a kind of important alarm system letting us know we need to fix something, jump into action or protect ourselves, the truth is what we need and want to do next is always much clearer from an unalarmed position. So, whether we're reacting to Robby Lewenstein or to some quality in ourselves we think is "wrong", we are identifying with wrongness, not the wholeness of who we really are. And as long as we have made ourselves or another wrong, we will never feel at peace, for no clarity, vision, or inspired action can arise from this mental position.
The other night, when I came into Sawyer's room to read with him before bed time, he was lying down under his covers. Usually, he is jumping around with two or three toys out, writing something, drawing, or building, with pieces of things all around him. What was wrong? Something was wrong. As the evening wore on, and Sawyer started vomiting and I started running around to grab paper towels, cleanser, towels, a large pot etc, I heard my mind bring me What Was Wrong.
"He's sick!!! And you might get sick too -ooh, imagine that. Do you want to be throwing up like this?! And what about Bill? Maybe Max will get it too? WASH YOUR HANDS. Wash them again. You really can't wash them enough. This is miserable. Oh, disgusting, revolting; awful; poor guy; poor me."
But as I was carrying the dirty blankets and towels to the laundry, some how, something happened in which the voice that spoke the Drama became separate from ME and I realized, I was still happy. Even though my child was sick and throwing up - repeatedly - I was still happy. I felt this rush of love for Sawyer (not worry or concern) and for life, and I was aware, suddenly, of his HEALTH and the strength of his body. I felt happy being alive and glad to be able to take care of him. And I felt like none of the details mattered. And this, fellow people, is not my usual M.O. Some how, without even being fully conscious of it, I had named The Drama Thought ("It's all wrong!") and in doing so, had stepped outside of it and what was happening ceased to affect my general state of well-being. The event, itself, had no power to pull me down, apparently, it was only the knee-jerk reactive thought that could do that - and I had already separated from that. I highly recommend this.
When we separate off from a thought, which is never who we are, it's like starting fresh; it's a clean slate on any situation or ourselves. We are not beholden to seeing ourselves or our situation in any particular way regardless of what is happening, we are free.
So, this week, see if you can feel how happy you really are, once separated from the big dramatic, reactive thought - whatever it is. It is very reassuring - much better than asking What's Wrong and trying to fix it.
With Much Love.
All is Well,
Jen
Saturday, July 26, 2008
The Freedom of Independent Thinking (written 2/25/08)
Hello great peoples. This week I want to write about Your Way, Opinions and Comments, and the Freedom of Independent Thinking. All right - let's hunker down and see what we come up with.
Years ago, when I was in art school, I was in a drawing class where each week we would be given a new assignment and start the piece in class. One day, we were drawing and the teacher did what she always did - circulated around the room and stopped by each person's station to comment on their work. She stopped at my table and looked at my piece. At that time, I liked charcoal and pastels and often erased a great deal in the process of discovering what I wanted to draw. As she looked at the first round of what I had put down, she began to comment. She pointed out potential problems I might have; things to address about the composition etc. I listened but I knew that the drawing she was talking about was not going to be the drawing I would end with. All she was reacting to was where I had started, but I could sense my direction. I had just taken a few steps out of the door of my house on my way somewhere and she was mistaking the first place I was standing for where I intended to go. So, nothing she said was actually relevant to me and what I wanted to do.
There was nothing wrong with what she was doing. She was telling us what she thought was working and what she thought was not. And for some of the students who were intending to end pretty much where they had begun, her advice on how to smooth out the presentation, made sense. But letting someone else's voice, comments, and opinion enter your thinking when you are in the process of connecting to what YOU want, is problematic at best. After all, you're the only one who can know what you want, and you're the only one who can decide the best way to go towards it for you. And if this is the case, which it is, you must trust your own (inner) voice first. Then if you are in the mood to listen to the Hoo and the Ha (the hooha) from others, you can swim in those waters as well. But only if you want.
Recently, I was talking with my Mom and she expressed her concern about Max's cough. He's had a cough for about a week now and it sounds, admittedly, awful. She wanted us to take him to the doctor and have it checked. Of course, we consider this every day. However, we have seen Max through many coughs and have learned that they always frighten us (at some point) and that it has consistently been a matter of giving them time to resolve. Then, the other day, my father expressed the same concern, bringing up the possibility of it being bronchitis and implying possible danger. His unease and fear were palpable just as my mother's had been. I had to pause. I had to pause in order to NOT join them. I had to pause in order to separate myself, to hear my own voice apart and to think independently so I could know what I actually thought.
Their comments were like an alarm going off, but if my own, true internal alarm had gone off I would have quickly taken action. But this was not the case. My alarm was not actually going off and they were ringing theirs. So, what to do? Act on theirs? The problem is that when someone else becomes uncomfortable, they want those feelings to GO AWAY and if they think you doing a particular thing might alleviate some of that for them, they can push pretty hard in that direction.
There is nothing wrong with taking Max to the doctor (and perhaps we will). There is nothing wrong with my parents expressing their concern. And, if I want peace of mind, I must check in with myself and not be in a knee-jerk reactive mode (self-activated nor activated by another). My sense of control rests not in trying to control any situation, but in making choices, moment by moment, based on my independent thought, unconcerned about the opinion of others. And this is freedom - to be me in the world, thinking as I think, acting as I wish to act, and feeling happy trusting my way. The only way to find our way in life is to do things the way that feels natural and right to us. And this is what allows us to grow our dreams because those dreams are rooted in who we are and if we trust who we are, the dreams naturally grow.
Back when I was a teenager, I remember asking my father how to be yourself and feel comfortable out in the world and he said that he had found that he would much rather make his own decisions and live with any of the possible resulting mistakes, than follow someone else's way and live with the ramifications of those choices. At the time, I didn't really understand how that answered my question, but now I think I do. When you hear yourself and follow your own way, it is much easier to be comfortable in the world, than if you don't. Your way is your path to authenticity and being authentic is the only way to be truly at ease in the world.
So, draw your own picture. Only you can feel what you want it to be. And let the opinions and comments of others represents possibilities - none of which you have to join, unless they match what you already know to be true.
All is Well.
Lots of love,
Jen
Years ago, when I was in art school, I was in a drawing class where each week we would be given a new assignment and start the piece in class. One day, we were drawing and the teacher did what she always did - circulated around the room and stopped by each person's station to comment on their work. She stopped at my table and looked at my piece. At that time, I liked charcoal and pastels and often erased a great deal in the process of discovering what I wanted to draw. As she looked at the first round of what I had put down, she began to comment. She pointed out potential problems I might have; things to address about the composition etc. I listened but I knew that the drawing she was talking about was not going to be the drawing I would end with. All she was reacting to was where I had started, but I could sense my direction. I had just taken a few steps out of the door of my house on my way somewhere and she was mistaking the first place I was standing for where I intended to go. So, nothing she said was actually relevant to me and what I wanted to do.
There was nothing wrong with what she was doing. She was telling us what she thought was working and what she thought was not. And for some of the students who were intending to end pretty much where they had begun, her advice on how to smooth out the presentation, made sense. But letting someone else's voice, comments, and opinion enter your thinking when you are in the process of connecting to what YOU want, is problematic at best. After all, you're the only one who can know what you want, and you're the only one who can decide the best way to go towards it for you. And if this is the case, which it is, you must trust your own (inner) voice first. Then if you are in the mood to listen to the Hoo and the Ha (the hooha) from others, you can swim in those waters as well. But only if you want.
Recently, I was talking with my Mom and she expressed her concern about Max's cough. He's had a cough for about a week now and it sounds, admittedly, awful. She wanted us to take him to the doctor and have it checked. Of course, we consider this every day. However, we have seen Max through many coughs and have learned that they always frighten us (at some point) and that it has consistently been a matter of giving them time to resolve. Then, the other day, my father expressed the same concern, bringing up the possibility of it being bronchitis and implying possible danger. His unease and fear were palpable just as my mother's had been. I had to pause. I had to pause in order to NOT join them. I had to pause in order to separate myself, to hear my own voice apart and to think independently so I could know what I actually thought.
Their comments were like an alarm going off, but if my own, true internal alarm had gone off I would have quickly taken action. But this was not the case. My alarm was not actually going off and they were ringing theirs. So, what to do? Act on theirs? The problem is that when someone else becomes uncomfortable, they want those feelings to GO AWAY and if they think you doing a particular thing might alleviate some of that for them, they can push pretty hard in that direction.
There is nothing wrong with taking Max to the doctor (and perhaps we will). There is nothing wrong with my parents expressing their concern. And, if I want peace of mind, I must check in with myself and not be in a knee-jerk reactive mode (self-activated nor activated by another). My sense of control rests not in trying to control any situation, but in making choices, moment by moment, based on my independent thought, unconcerned about the opinion of others. And this is freedom - to be me in the world, thinking as I think, acting as I wish to act, and feeling happy trusting my way. The only way to find our way in life is to do things the way that feels natural and right to us. And this is what allows us to grow our dreams because those dreams are rooted in who we are and if we trust who we are, the dreams naturally grow.
Back when I was a teenager, I remember asking my father how to be yourself and feel comfortable out in the world and he said that he had found that he would much rather make his own decisions and live with any of the possible resulting mistakes, than follow someone else's way and live with the ramifications of those choices. At the time, I didn't really understand how that answered my question, but now I think I do. When you hear yourself and follow your own way, it is much easier to be comfortable in the world, than if you don't. Your way is your path to authenticity and being authentic is the only way to be truly at ease in the world.
So, draw your own picture. Only you can feel what you want it to be. And let the opinions and comments of others represents possibilities - none of which you have to join, unless they match what you already know to be true.
All is Well.
Lots of love,
Jen
Unfearing Ourselves (written 2/5/08)
Hello bold peoples. This week the NEWS is about Unfearing Ourselves and Softening our Reactions and Views.
Recently, I was in the kitchen with Sawyer and he turned to me and said, "Throw that away," pointing to some stray piece of food lying on the floor that had managed to escape the garbage. With his penchant for being overly sensitive to all-things-food that look gross to him, I recognized the anxiety in his voice and took a beat. This subject, and teaching him how to deal with his anxiety around it, has been of great interest to me. I've been taking it slow and gradually introducing the idea that he has the ability to shift how he is seeing things and to soften his reaction to them. And so, one can clear a plate with left over offensive sauce without having the veins pop out in one's neck, or shudder, or shout out. And so, I thought, here was my opportunity to break this thing down further. I took out a piece of paper towel and said, "How about if you pick it up and put it in the garbage?" "No, you do it," he said. I stopped and thought again. "Would you like to know what it is?" He seemed open to this. Upon examination, I discovered it was a piece of gristle from a chicken leg. I held out the paper towel and suggested he just scoop it up and put it in the garbage - handle it himself, since it was bothering him and then he would know he could do it. And low and behold, that boy took the paper towel scooped up the offending item and threw it in the garbage. I congratulated him and reminded him how calm he'd stayed and how easy it was. Since then, I've seen other instances of him taking greater initiative and having a greater sense of his own power in this area.
Yesterday, Bill, Sawyer, and I went out for a walk while Max was at home entertaining his friend. We went through the walking park, near our home, which consists of pretty paths and bridges crossing a body of water. There are ducks, seagulls, crows, beavers who have set up house, and even a blue heron. As we were entering, Sawyer decided to climb a little hill covered in pokey dried-up growing things. He announced this dramatically and proceeded to make his way up, announcing, "I am UNFEARING MYSELF OF EVERYTHING I AM AFRAID OF."
When he got to the top, his descent was less than valiant or sure footed, and ended with Bill helping him down the very small slope with which he didn't really need help. But still, he had DECLARED his intention. Towards the end of the walk, Bill went home before us, and Sawyer ran off in front of me. I followed the direction he went, but I could not see him. I called to him, but he did not answer. I turned the corner where I assumed he had run, but he wasn't there. I looked this way; I looked that way; I felt a little frustration, a tiny bit of worry. I called again. This time I heard a response and walked on. There he was, waiting for me. There was a part of me that wanted to give him a speech. The worried parent speech - the speech intended to somewhat shame and quiet the wild, inconsiderate impulses of the child. But, I decided I didn't need to feel unhappy about what he had done, and I decided that I knew he was safe, and I decided that, that was a door I did not want to open. I did not want to feel how I knew I would feel if I gave that speech. And so, I waited and watched.
Then, he disappeared again. He was fast. I knew his direction but not where he was. I followed the path out of the park, assuming he'd be waiting for me on the sidewalk, ready to cross the (busy) street together. But when I arrived, he was already on the other side. He had crossed (there are no lights there, just a crosswalk; it's not an intersection) alone. Again, I paused, looking at his beaming face, his summoning, waving hand, encouraging me to hurry and catch up to him. And so, I crossed. And again, I thought of giving the speech: the one where he gets to be wrong and I get to be right; where he gets to need protection and I am the protector, where he gets to be worried about and I get to worry, but I gave it another thought. I watched, again, as he ran ahead, and watched again as he crossed at the crosswalk as the signal turned to "walk", by himself. And when I finally caught up to him, I hugged him from behind and told him how independent he is, how capable he is of doing so much on his own now, and does he realize it? He quietly agreed. And then, as I watched him run ahead of me once more, I was very clear on what I want for him - and how everything he had just done - could easily be seen as IT. He took care of himself; he was focused; he was independent; he was autonomous. So, I did, in the end, get to give a speech; it just happened to be one that left me feeling good. And in the end, he did just what he said he was going to do, "Unfear" himself, which is what I want most for him. And I got out of his way by softening the way I was seeing the situation and my reaction and allowing for something good to come through, allowing myself to act and think from a broader perspective, not from fear.
Sawyer softened the way he was reacting to things and this allowed him to reclaim more of his power. No garbage, no sauce, no idea , no situation, no NOTHING should ever strip us of our power . If it does, all this means is, we have temporarily strayed from our true path and it is time to Unfear ourselves again by quieting our reaction and softening our view.
Here is to softer, easier thoughts and all the good that comes from them.
Lots of love.
All is Well,
Jen
Recently, I was in the kitchen with Sawyer and he turned to me and said, "Throw that away," pointing to some stray piece of food lying on the floor that had managed to escape the garbage. With his penchant for being overly sensitive to all-things-food that look gross to him, I recognized the anxiety in his voice and took a beat. This subject, and teaching him how to deal with his anxiety around it, has been of great interest to me. I've been taking it slow and gradually introducing the idea that he has the ability to shift how he is seeing things and to soften his reaction to them. And so, one can clear a plate with left over offensive sauce without having the veins pop out in one's neck, or shudder, or shout out. And so, I thought, here was my opportunity to break this thing down further. I took out a piece of paper towel and said, "How about if you pick it up and put it in the garbage?" "No, you do it," he said. I stopped and thought again. "Would you like to know what it is?" He seemed open to this. Upon examination, I discovered it was a piece of gristle from a chicken leg. I held out the paper towel and suggested he just scoop it up and put it in the garbage - handle it himself, since it was bothering him and then he would know he could do it. And low and behold, that boy took the paper towel scooped up the offending item and threw it in the garbage. I congratulated him and reminded him how calm he'd stayed and how easy it was. Since then, I've seen other instances of him taking greater initiative and having a greater sense of his own power in this area.
Yesterday, Bill, Sawyer, and I went out for a walk while Max was at home entertaining his friend. We went through the walking park, near our home, which consists of pretty paths and bridges crossing a body of water. There are ducks, seagulls, crows, beavers who have set up house, and even a blue heron. As we were entering, Sawyer decided to climb a little hill covered in pokey dried-up growing things. He announced this dramatically and proceeded to make his way up, announcing, "I am UNFEARING MYSELF OF EVERYTHING I AM AFRAID OF."
When he got to the top, his descent was less than valiant or sure footed, and ended with Bill helping him down the very small slope with which he didn't really need help. But still, he had DECLARED his intention. Towards the end of the walk, Bill went home before us, and Sawyer ran off in front of me. I followed the direction he went, but I could not see him. I called to him, but he did not answer. I turned the corner where I assumed he had run, but he wasn't there. I looked this way; I looked that way; I felt a little frustration, a tiny bit of worry. I called again. This time I heard a response and walked on. There he was, waiting for me. There was a part of me that wanted to give him a speech. The worried parent speech - the speech intended to somewhat shame and quiet the wild, inconsiderate impulses of the child. But, I decided I didn't need to feel unhappy about what he had done, and I decided that I knew he was safe, and I decided that, that was a door I did not want to open. I did not want to feel how I knew I would feel if I gave that speech. And so, I waited and watched.
Then, he disappeared again. He was fast. I knew his direction but not where he was. I followed the path out of the park, assuming he'd be waiting for me on the sidewalk, ready to cross the (busy) street together. But when I arrived, he was already on the other side. He had crossed (there are no lights there, just a crosswalk; it's not an intersection) alone. Again, I paused, looking at his beaming face, his summoning, waving hand, encouraging me to hurry and catch up to him. And so, I crossed. And again, I thought of giving the speech: the one where he gets to be wrong and I get to be right; where he gets to need protection and I am the protector, where he gets to be worried about and I get to worry, but I gave it another thought. I watched, again, as he ran ahead, and watched again as he crossed at the crosswalk as the signal turned to "walk", by himself. And when I finally caught up to him, I hugged him from behind and told him how independent he is, how capable he is of doing so much on his own now, and does he realize it? He quietly agreed. And then, as I watched him run ahead of me once more, I was very clear on what I want for him - and how everything he had just done - could easily be seen as IT. He took care of himself; he was focused; he was independent; he was autonomous. So, I did, in the end, get to give a speech; it just happened to be one that left me feeling good. And in the end, he did just what he said he was going to do, "Unfear" himself, which is what I want most for him. And I got out of his way by softening the way I was seeing the situation and my reaction and allowing for something good to come through, allowing myself to act and think from a broader perspective, not from fear.
Sawyer softened the way he was reacting to things and this allowed him to reclaim more of his power. No garbage, no sauce, no idea , no situation, no NOTHING should ever strip us of our power . If it does, all this means is, we have temporarily strayed from our true path and it is time to Unfear ourselves again by quieting our reaction and softening our view.
Here is to softer, easier thoughts and all the good that comes from them.
Lots of love.
All is Well,
Jen
In Line With Our True Priorities (written 1/23/08)
This week, the NEWS is about INDIAN GIVING the power of understanding that sometimes a Gift is really just a Loan, and remembering our true priorities.
When I was a child, around six, I was friends with a girl named Maria who lived next door t o me in Connecticut. Maria was one of two children. I don't remember much about Maria except that she was a strong person with a mother who I considered crazy and scary.
One day Maria showed me a skateboard that she and her father had made together and then she proceeded to give it to me. By the next day, however, she returned, wanting it back. At this time, there were many children on the street who would ride bicycles together and hang in groups to play, and those kids happened to be around, lingering and listening in. I argued with Maria that I should get to keep the skateboard - after all, she'd GIVEN it to me. It was officially MINE. The other kids gathered round, racing to my defense and Maria's persecution and called her an "Indian Giver".
The standard definition of Indian Giver is one who gives a gift and then takes it back -just like what Maria was doing . But, of course, the term has been used with derogatory and erroneous assumptions made about an entire group of people. Many believe that the expression actually came to be because the white people thought they were being GIFTED by the Native Americans when in fact they were being given loans, and had misunderstood the terms of the exchanges.

So, Maria was an Indian Giver, according to the other kids. And, I'll never forget how in the middle of her grabbing it from me, her disturbed mother leaned out the upper story window of their home and laughed and laughed - like a witch ( I thought at the time) cackling over our struggle. In the end, the skateboard, made of an old, worn piece of wood and rubber wheels went back to Maria. And I scarcely missed it at all.
I have no memory of really wanting that skateboard and I have no memory of having great, fun plans for that skateboard. I don't think I had even known what to do with it when she gave it to me. I do remember feeling some interest and vague desire upon first sight, but beyond that, the skateboard, even once given, felt foreign. So, why the big fight?
In the moment in which Maria decided she wanted the skateboard back, I had a choice before me. I could line up, emotionally, with what she wanted or thought she wanted; I could line up with what I wanted and felt - which was actually indifference at this point; or I could line up with an idea my mind thought was RIGHT. And that's the path I chose. And from that place, struggle can easily ensue.
Sometimes we fight fiercely over an idea of what we think is right or should be, when in truth, it is not lined up with how we actually feel about the situation. If I'd thought about it, I could have easily released the skateboard, chocked it up to Maria having made a hasty decision the previous day, and let it go . But the Argument and issue of Right and Wrong caught my attention so fiercely that I was tempted to ride the wave of self-righteousness and bask in it as long as I could. But the truth was, it didn't feel great calling her an Indian Giver, nor did it feel good trying to hold onto something that I didn't even really care about. But Maria cared, and Maria was the one who had spent time building that skateboard with her father. So, who was "right"?
In the end, it was a matter of misunderstanding - a misunderstanding of my own priorities. In truth, Maria's and my feelings matched up well: she wanted the skateboard; I didn't really care about it. And if I'd remembered that my main priority was wanting to feel good and be happy, the scenario would have played out quite differently. If I'd remembered that sometimes in life a gift turns out to be a loan and that's okay, I wouldn't have been so tempted to try to prove my "rightness". But I payed little attention to these facts. If I had, there would have been no verbal lynching of Maria that day, nor any bizarre and frightening cackling from her mother, and perhaps, we could have just continued on, playing happily together - with that skateboard.
Sometimes what we think is a gift turns out to be a loan and the terms of the agreement seem to change and this can seem very wrong, and maybe even frightening. But these situations and feelings are worth looking at again and remembering exactly what our real priorities are. And then, we can more easily let go and move on. After all, there are always more gifts on their way.
Lots of love to you .
All is Well,
Jen
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
How to Dispose of a Feeling (written 1/15/08)
Hi all you great people. This week's NEWS is about How to Dispose of a Feeling and T.I.A.A. (=Throwing It All Away. I've written about this before). Join me, join me, join me and let's find out where we can go next.
The other day, Sawyer received his first package from Lego Brickmaster. This is something for which my parents signed him up - as a birthday gift - something he desperately wanted. Every two months, Lego Brickmaster sends him a small build-able toy in the mail. He also receives a copy of the Lego Magazine. So, when he received it, he was very excited. Inside the padded manila envelop was also a letter (quickly thrown aside) and two five dollars-off coupons, brought to me with many fervent questions. He wanted to know how they work and when we could use them. After explaining that they were for on-line purchases only (so we couldn't use them in the store), I mentioned that they have expiration dates on them, but that the expiration dates are not for a long time (one lasts almost a year).
His interest in the coupons died down to a dull roar until the next morning, following a discussion he had with Max, unwitnessed by me. Later, when I launched an investigation as to why my youngest son had traipsed outside in his pajamas, barefoot, and left a cardboard shipping box with the coupons inside it on the doorstep of our neighbor's house, I discovered the nature of their exchange.
Turns out Max had shared his experience of once receiving like coupons. Apparently, he had waited so long, that the expiration came and went and he was no longer able to use the coupons by the time he wanted to. Hearing this story, Sawyer became alarmed. "What if," he worried, "this happens to me?" And he cooked this idea until he soon came to the point where his concern over the coupon expiring before his desire was met became unbearable. He had to get the coupons out of his sight in order to end the torment of this possibility.
After sending him back out to retrieve the package of confusion and garbage he'd left for our innocent neighbor, I had to stop and think.
Why hadn't he just thrown them away? After all, using the trash can is faster than delivering a package.
But the thing is, Sawyer didn't actually want to extinguish the coupons and their potential for getting something he wanted, he simply wanted to dispose of the FEELING of fearing he wasn't going to be able to get what he wanted. So, the best he could come up with was to safely package and abandon them - like a baby left on someone's doorstep - and hope they would be cared for and come to no harm. Somewhere inside he knew he was seeking relief not from the coupons, but from his own problematic thinking. In this light, the garbage would have put much too much of a final end to something that wasn't even the actual problem.
When Max was very young, I noticed a pattern in his behavior that was to endure throughout the years and went like this: something went wrong; something happened he didn't like; he felt something he didn't like feeling, and then he would, what I would later term : T.I.A.A. (which stands for Throw It All Away). I can recall his being around five years old and very upset with me over something ( I cannot remember the specifics) and wanting control over the situation - control that I seemed to have taken. In his fierce and determined little hand was a delicious chocolate chip cookie that he had wanted very much. As he argued his point vehemently, I remember him opening the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink and threatening to throw his cookie away. It made me crazy at the time: why would he throw away something he wanted?
Perhaps he too was looking for a way to dispose of, not that great cookie, but how he was feeling. And the quickest thing, for Max, seemed to be to Throw it All Away. In other words, if there was no tangible item in sight involved in the current conflict, he would seek out anything he had ever wanted and look to throw it away. I have witnessed this impulse in him many times, as he marches through the house with his box of game-boy games and paraphernalia, on his way to the garbage or ebay in his dramatic but erroneous effort to get rid of WANTING in general.
And he wants to get rid of wanting because he believes he has witnessed evidence that says: You Can't Have What You Want and You Don't Have the Power to Create It. And there is nothing harder on us than wanting something and thinking we can't have it. And in many of us the impulse to throw away or ignore anything we want can become strong in order to try to squelch and be done with the torment of wanting in doubt and fear.
Our lives are filled with evidence of having things we want; they surround us, but we must allow ourselves to have and feel having them. And in that having and appreciation, comes the sense of power that both Sawyer and Max and I seek - the knowing we can create whatever we want.
So, enjoy the cookie, and hold onto that coupon. You might already actually have what you want or be able to get it sooner than you think.
Hope you're all great.
Lots of love.
All is Well,
Jen
The other day, Sawyer received his first package from Lego Brickmaster. This is something for which my parents signed him up - as a birthday gift - something he desperately wanted. Every two months, Lego Brickmaster sends him a small build-able toy in the mail. He also receives a copy of the Lego Magazine. So, when he received it, he was very excited. Inside the padded manila envelop was also a letter (quickly thrown aside) and two five dollars-off coupons, brought to me with many fervent questions. He wanted to know how they work and when we could use them. After explaining that they were for on-line purchases only (so we couldn't use them in the store), I mentioned that they have expiration dates on them, but that the expiration dates are not for a long time (one lasts almost a year).
His interest in the coupons died down to a dull roar until the next morning, following a discussion he had with Max, unwitnessed by me. Later, when I launched an investigation as to why my youngest son had traipsed outside in his pajamas, barefoot, and left a cardboard shipping box with the coupons inside it on the doorstep of our neighbor's house, I discovered the nature of their exchange.
Turns out Max had shared his experience of once receiving like coupons. Apparently, he had waited so long, that the expiration came and went and he was no longer able to use the coupons by the time he wanted to. Hearing this story, Sawyer became alarmed. "What if," he worried, "this happens to me?" And he cooked this idea until he soon came to the point where his concern over the coupon expiring before his desire was met became unbearable. He had to get the coupons out of his sight in order to end the torment of this possibility.
After sending him back out to retrieve the package of confusion and garbage he'd left for our innocent neighbor, I had to stop and think.
Why hadn't he just thrown them away? After all, using the trash can is faster than delivering a package.
But the thing is, Sawyer didn't actually want to extinguish the coupons and their potential for getting something he wanted, he simply wanted to dispose of the FEELING of fearing he wasn't going to be able to get what he wanted. So, the best he could come up with was to safely package and abandon them - like a baby left on someone's doorstep - and hope they would be cared for and come to no harm. Somewhere inside he knew he was seeking relief not from the coupons, but from his own problematic thinking. In this light, the garbage would have put much too much of a final end to something that wasn't even the actual problem.
When Max was very young, I noticed a pattern in his behavior that was to endure throughout the years and went like this: something went wrong; something happened he didn't like; he felt something he didn't like feeling, and then he would, what I would later term : T.I.A.A. (which stands for Throw It All Away). I can recall his being around five years old and very upset with me over something ( I cannot remember the specifics) and wanting control over the situation - control that I seemed to have taken. In his fierce and determined little hand was a delicious chocolate chip cookie that he had wanted very much. As he argued his point vehemently, I remember him opening the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink and threatening to throw his cookie away. It made me crazy at the time: why would he throw away something he wanted?
Perhaps he too was looking for a way to dispose of, not that great cookie, but how he was feeling. And the quickest thing, for Max, seemed to be to Throw it All Away. In other words, if there was no tangible item in sight involved in the current conflict, he would seek out anything he had ever wanted and look to throw it away. I have witnessed this impulse in him many times, as he marches through the house with his box of game-boy games and paraphernalia, on his way to the garbage or ebay in his dramatic but erroneous effort to get rid of WANTING in general.
And he wants to get rid of wanting because he believes he has witnessed evidence that says: You Can't Have What You Want and You Don't Have the Power to Create It. And there is nothing harder on us than wanting something and thinking we can't have it. And in many of us the impulse to throw away or ignore anything we want can become strong in order to try to squelch and be done with the torment of wanting in doubt and fear.
Our lives are filled with evidence of having things we want; they surround us, but we must allow ourselves to have and feel having them. And in that having and appreciation, comes the sense of power that both Sawyer and Max and I seek - the knowing we can create whatever we want.
So, enjoy the cookie, and hold onto that coupon. You might already actually have what you want or be able to get it sooner than you think.
Hope you're all great.
Lots of love.
All is Well,
Jen
On Falling & Landing (written 1/3/08)
Happy New Year to you all! This week I want to talk about Falling, Landing, and what to do in between. Let's begin with a dream I had.
The dream goes like this (although there was some before that I will not bother with here): I have returned to my car. It is a dark green Subaru Forester (which is what we actually own). All the doors to it are wide open and I am digging through as though in the middle of cleaning it or searching for something. Just then, I realize that it is rolling forward. At this point, I am standing right beside the car, towards the back passenger seats. I believe the rolling is no big deal as there is growth - bushes and trees - in front of it which seem like they would keep it from going very far. But before I know it, that growth seems to sort of part or disappear and the car continues rolling. Then I see that it is on the edge of a precipice. The drop is dramatic. Although I have the perspective of standing outside the car, looking down this cliff, I am in the car, lying down in the back, as it rolls off the precipice. As I realize what is happening I cry out, "NO, NO, NO!" And then the car and I begin to fall. As it falls (slowly), I hear a voice saying to me, "Relax and be still. Relax and be still." over and over again. I focus on relaxing myself and quieting my reaction and I lie there as still as ever I've been. I am aware that if I relax deeply, the impact will not jar or hurt me, but if I tense up, I think of how my jaw might be injured or my teeth damaged. So I am to not fight it at all and, the implication seems to be, if I don't, I will be okay upon landing.
The other night, Bill awoke in the middle of the night and had a very hard time going back to sleep. Earlier that day he had discovered the heel of one of his feet was cracked and dry. He'd never had this before and so Googled information on it. The site he went to spoke of a particular ointment to use but warned that one shouldn't use it if one has diabetes. They then went on to describe some of the symptoms of diabetes: cracked dry skin, and poor circulation. So, Bill awakens in the middle of the night having been sleeping with his hands in a somewhat odd position and they're tingling. His mind jumps to the description on the website and the Worry About Whether or not He Has Diabetes Party begins. From where he is in his life at that moment, from his feeling of vulnerability at the moment (because of other things, perhaps), his mind goes on a hunt to fill in reasons why he should feel vulnerable and frightened. And this diabetes stuff is handy information.
So, he finds himself in a car (= a thought) that is rolling off a precipice. So, what to do?
If he fights against the thought, it will probably become stronger because trying to turn away from something out of fear or stomp it out, just creates more energy around it. So, for every, "Oh, I probably don't have it." There could easily be a , "But I might." So, there's no movement there. And from a position of being challenged, his mind races off to retrieve other bits of examples and evidence that support the diagnosis or at least the anxiety. But what if, he lies still and relaxes? What if he just let's himself free fall through that thought, lying there very still and relaxed, knowing that he is upping his chance of being unscathed when he lands if he takes a non-resistant position? Because the truth is we always land. It is as inherent a law to our inner landscape of thought and feeling as gravity is to our outer landscape of action. Thoughts always land. And when they're airborne, we feel ungrounded and unsafe, and afraid, and when they land, we feel better. The question is how beaten up do we wish to become in the process?
I've heard that in automobile accidents, it is best to relax your body upon impact as you are less likely to sustain an injury and so, I think the same thing applies to a thought accident or really, anything that seems to be going in a direction we don't want.
Recently, I returned from a trip and arrived in the train station expecting Bill to be there to pick me up. He was not. I stood around for a bit, thinking he'd arrive any moment. I considered calling him on the pay phone. I needed to go to the bathroom very badly, but was concerned that he would arrive, not see me, and go off on a hunt. So, I stood there, considering all my options, feeling the medical emergency my bladder was about to produce, when I decided, actually, there was nothing to do, that I would just go to the bathroom and let the situation resolve itself. And so, into the ladies room I went and when I returned, there was Bill.
It's not that this is remarkable, only that there were many tacts I could have taken in Thought. I could have convinced myself that going to the bathroom was too risky, that I had to call, that something was really wrong as Bill is always early for these kinds of things. But that would have been tensing up, that would have been resisting and that would have left me a bit bruised upon landing.
In my dream, I land. And in the next part, I am shaken but fine, and I am in my old Rhode Island childhood home, telling my Mom about my experience of falling. And so you see, we can make it through any fall, any kind of thought or experience that has us frightened, and we can make it through unbroken and unhurt. But it's up to us.
For 2008, let us take all the accidents (thought or otherwise) of the previous year, and let us be still and relaxed and let them fall. And let us land safely and begin from a place we love.
Here's to New Great Things coming your way.
Lots of Love.
All Is Well,
Jen
The dream goes like this (although there was some before that I will not bother with here): I have returned to my car. It is a dark green Subaru Forester (which is what we actually own). All the doors to it are wide open and I am digging through as though in the middle of cleaning it or searching for something. Just then, I realize that it is rolling forward. At this point, I am standing right beside the car, towards the back passenger seats. I believe the rolling is no big deal as there is growth - bushes and trees - in front of it which seem like they would keep it from going very far. But before I know it, that growth seems to sort of part or disappear and the car continues rolling. Then I see that it is on the edge of a precipice. The drop is dramatic. Although I have the perspective of standing outside the car, looking down this cliff, I am in the car, lying down in the back, as it rolls off the precipice. As I realize what is happening I cry out, "NO, NO, NO!" And then the car and I begin to fall. As it falls (slowly), I hear a voice saying to me, "Relax and be still. Relax and be still." over and over again. I focus on relaxing myself and quieting my reaction and I lie there as still as ever I've been. I am aware that if I relax deeply, the impact will not jar or hurt me, but if I tense up, I think of how my jaw might be injured or my teeth damaged. So I am to not fight it at all and, the implication seems to be, if I don't, I will be okay upon landing.
The other night, Bill awoke in the middle of the night and had a very hard time going back to sleep. Earlier that day he had discovered the heel of one of his feet was cracked and dry. He'd never had this before and so Googled information on it. The site he went to spoke of a particular ointment to use but warned that one shouldn't use it if one has diabetes. They then went on to describe some of the symptoms of diabetes: cracked dry skin, and poor circulation. So, Bill awakens in the middle of the night having been sleeping with his hands in a somewhat odd position and they're tingling. His mind jumps to the description on the website and the Worry About Whether or not He Has Diabetes Party begins. From where he is in his life at that moment, from his feeling of vulnerability at the moment (because of other things, perhaps), his mind goes on a hunt to fill in reasons why he should feel vulnerable and frightened. And this diabetes stuff is handy information.
So, he finds himself in a car (= a thought) that is rolling off a precipice. So, what to do?
If he fights against the thought, it will probably become stronger because trying to turn away from something out of fear or stomp it out, just creates more energy around it. So, for every, "Oh, I probably don't have it." There could easily be a , "But I might." So, there's no movement there. And from a position of being challenged, his mind races off to retrieve other bits of examples and evidence that support the diagnosis or at least the anxiety. But what if, he lies still and relaxes? What if he just let's himself free fall through that thought, lying there very still and relaxed, knowing that he is upping his chance of being unscathed when he lands if he takes a non-resistant position? Because the truth is we always land. It is as inherent a law to our inner landscape of thought and feeling as gravity is to our outer landscape of action. Thoughts always land. And when they're airborne, we feel ungrounded and unsafe, and afraid, and when they land, we feel better. The question is how beaten up do we wish to become in the process?
I've heard that in automobile accidents, it is best to relax your body upon impact as you are less likely to sustain an injury and so, I think the same thing applies to a thought accident or really, anything that seems to be going in a direction we don't want.
Recently, I returned from a trip and arrived in the train station expecting Bill to be there to pick me up. He was not. I stood around for a bit, thinking he'd arrive any moment. I considered calling him on the pay phone. I needed to go to the bathroom very badly, but was concerned that he would arrive, not see me, and go off on a hunt. So, I stood there, considering all my options, feeling the medical emergency my bladder was about to produce, when I decided, actually, there was nothing to do, that I would just go to the bathroom and let the situation resolve itself. And so, into the ladies room I went and when I returned, there was Bill.
It's not that this is remarkable, only that there were many tacts I could have taken in Thought. I could have convinced myself that going to the bathroom was too risky, that I had to call, that something was really wrong as Bill is always early for these kinds of things. But that would have been tensing up, that would have been resisting and that would have left me a bit bruised upon landing.
In my dream, I land. And in the next part, I am shaken but fine, and I am in my old Rhode Island childhood home, telling my Mom about my experience of falling. And so you see, we can make it through any fall, any kind of thought or experience that has us frightened, and we can make it through unbroken and unhurt. But it's up to us.
For 2008, let us take all the accidents (thought or otherwise) of the previous year, and let us be still and relaxed and let them fall. And let us land safely and begin from a place we love.
Here's to New Great Things coming your way.
Lots of Love.
All Is Well,
Jen
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