Where does love live in my body?
In my eyes?
When they observe in gentleness
in no hurry to sneer or blink?
In my blood?
Rushing mile after mile, there and back
until every thirsty cell has its needed drink?
In my lungs?
Deeply breathing in the essential now
without thought for what comes next?
In my muscles?
Springing into action and relaxing
This poem was inspired by a meditation in the book, Practice You by Elena Brower.
(Thank you, Allison Graves, for the conduit of awareness.)
I’ve posted this quote from http://www.notsalmon.com before, but thought it might be time for a repeat.
Stop the blame-and-shame-train with “What was I learning?”
Otherwise, it’s not just me that will suffer.
I will beat others up with my…
intolerance of others’ mistakes
destructive judgements and projections
When my life feels watered down is it usually because I have been too busy dodging life rather than corralling the power I need to master it.
Today, a personal inventory revealed a sucking hole in my center, and a trail of ho-hum results and interactions; all completely avoidable, had I just used a few of my breaths for observation and reflection before diving in.
The shocking truth, though, is how easily I can be fooled into thinking I am fine without making this effort.
Especially when the day seems run-of-the-mill.
Especially when everything seems just fine.
Especially when I think I’ve got this.
I didn’t realize it was so common. You show up for the first time to a class on the day of the exam and feel so confused about why, oh why, you haven’t been coming to the class all semester. My class is like Calculus. What was I thinking?
(see Psychology Today article: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/radical-teaching/200909/recurring-final-exam-dream)
Lately, the dream has shifted to managing a nightmarish shift in a restaurant, wondering where I was when everything cratered?
Whatever the setting, both dreams alert me to an inner state of feeling utterly under-prepared.
But, the really cool thing about having the dream is the opportunity to peer into my sub-conscious and be totally honest with myself.
Breadcrumbs on the path to authenticity.
And authenticity is the foundation of joy.
People who are driven by mission are awesome, unless:
- They won’t shut up about the mission
- Mission is such an obsession that they don’t see the people around them
I am a mission-driven person. I have so much I want to accomplish, but, there is nothing more noble to accomplish than to give great energy to whoever is around me, right now. Losing sight of that makes my mission frickin’ annoying.
When I have done the most whacked-out, embarrassing, things…is was usually because I was hiding something.
The most self-destructive people I know have often had an undealt-with painful “secret.”
The times I caused others pain could often be traced to a well-disguised ego issue.
The best preventative I have found is…
Owning all of my stuff without shame.
“The only way to get rid of your past is to make a future out of it. God will waste nothing.”
When Amy Cuddy reluctantly admitted in a TEDTalk that she had been plagued with feeling like an imposter, she connected with millions who have also lived in fear of being caught by the “fraud police.”
Had I known that I wasn’t the only one, I would have:
- realized this feeling was part of the human experience
- quit apologizing for being myself
- been a lot more free to be authentic without shame
- “brought my boldest self to my biggest challenges”
When my story about myself is one of being inferior to others, I shrink.
When my story is one of being enough, I occupy a larger space in the world.
We never have to apologize for being anywhere in this world.
Click on the photo above to hear how to program our body language to change how we feel about our own right to be here.
Lift your head with resolve
Relax your grasping hands and your furrowed brow
Drop the skeleton of your thwarted dreams
And walk away with a firm step planted in this good earth
The fading victim
(Just yesterday, so strong and threatening)
Has, at last, yielded
To unexpected joy
(Written in memory of myself, rescued by the inspiration of a myriad of angels, women, and men whom the world was not worthy to know.)