Category Archives: compassion

The Joy of Grief

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Stored grief, trapped grief, neglected and locked up in the basement or attic grief can be ignored. We are encouraged in our culture to imprison it immediately and never look upon its face again.

Stored grief becomes baseline anxiety. It haunts our system like a poltergeist. We may jump at sounds, flinch at a massage therapists touch, see personal attacks in the words or looks of another individual. Stored grief makes us frightened children. We are telling ourselves that we are not big enough, strong enough, mature enough, powerful enough to look at this grief with clear vision. Our culture tells us that we are not whole enough to experience the entirety of emotions.

Only some emotions are allowed in. But grief is already housed in us. We have suffered a plethora of grief stories by the time we are adults. It is a Netflix, Crave vastness of stories of loss, abandonment, physical pain. And we in our human condition are newborn soft. Our bodies are fragile. Our minds are untrained and nervous. Our yearnings are childish. We are walking the earth without armour plating.

And so IT happens. The loss shears away some part of our lives we thought was eternal. The abandonment occurs again and again. The insults to our spirits occur on a daily basis. The more that we are enduring, the more that we are obscuring.

Life strikes us

The only way that we can free ourselves of the fragility of our state is to understand it fully. The body will tell us when we are wounded. The breath will tell us when we are experiencing fear. In that moment, if we are to be adults, we must feel what is happening to us physically. We must stop and see the sadness that has just been triggered within us.

Thich Nhat Han says, “We must hold our grief like a baby.”
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To sit with the grief, the sadness, the wounding, the pain and hold it in our arms takes an adult spirit. To see that life costs us in so many ways and when the next loss appears, it is our duty to ourselves to hold it in our arms. And so we cry. And so we weep. We release the grief so that it will not haunt us every single day. We are unafraid to say that we are merely human. We are unafraid to say that right now, this day or this week, I am processing grief. It is different than clinging to grief so that we can get attention.

We can grow ourselves.

It is different than dragging grief behind us in the childish grip like a teddy bear.

We recognize the pain of being human when it arises so that we may release it. Only when we are no longer haunted by the locked up ghosts can we let the light and the joy in.

Let us shift the culture so that we allow others to feel both grief and, through releasing it, the joy that comes next. Anger is being worn like a cutting edge fashion statement at the current time.

And anger is neither here nor there.

Throw open your windows to all of life. Get rid of the ghosts.

Other People’s Victories

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When we compare ourselves to others we all lose. I am not as tall as she or he. They are not as short as I am. My skin is not as light, not as dark, not as tight, not as loose, not as radiant. We both come out behind.

No two people or things can ever reasonably be compared to one another. One stick is straighter and another branches. So which stick is the freak? Which broken off branch is not reaching its full potential as a manifestation of limb fractured upon the ground?

A comparison is always to designate the failure, the lesser than, the go home now, the “you are fired” mentality.

The mind that seeks to compare is the mind already set up to find fault. Is one of my ears bigger or smaller or higher on my head or lower than the other? Which ear is more perfectly an ear?

all in the brain

The ultimate ridiculous waste of intellectual calories is puzzling.

What is it we hope to achieve by comparing ourselves to others? What is the ultimate goal? Should we be thrown back into the waters before birth like some under limit fish?

To measure ourselves in terms of others is only in service of the puppet masters. The corporate holders of the psyche strings want us to feel that we are malformed, not special, lacking in some undiscovered attribute. It is when we are in that mindset that we buy a new oven or refrigerator in an attempt to catch up with others.

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My neighbour might have had a breakthrough in how to use the remote. Suddenly it clicked how to click the new device. She pushed through her frustration with technology and has begun to challenge her limits. It is as meaningful as if she had climbed a rock wall.

My friend might have set up a payment plan to pay off $25 dollars a month on the debt and it took every ounce of determination to get out of the mindset of rewarding pain by running up more debt. He has literally created a new future for himself. It is as transformative as if he had purchased a designer suit.

Some person sitting alone in front of the computer may have been in a frustration state so severe that that person wanted to scream and run away into the hills. But that person stayed in front of the blue screen light and learned how to use the new software. It was as frightening and courageous as if the person had gone sky diving, for them.

We can never know how much of a victory others are achieving in their daily lives if we are only using the status ruler. It tells us nothing. It tells us nothing about our own lives or about others.

As I sat at an intersection the other day I suddenly got the blinding clarity of understanding as car after car turned left into the lane next to me by travelling through an intersection. I thought of how each of those drivers had learned a skill, and decided to follow the rules of the society. Each was determined to keep his or her focus inside his or her own car and make that turn without danger to others. And I was flooded with love for the decisions each had made to make that turn. No one was racing to see who was first, who was the most deserving to make that corner first. It was an agreement to just keep the attention inside his or her own particular vehicle. And it was beautiful.

What if we could do that with out thoughts? Stay inside your own life, stay in your own lane and be focused on what major tiny achievements you are able to learn. Congratulate yourself and acknowledge how you pushed through a block of a challenge.

It makes us all so much more grounded and at peace. It makes us so much more likely to be at home in our own lives. It makes the world safer for all of us.

Christmas Choices

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We are told in books such as Switch: How to Change when Change is Hard that self discipline is a muscle. At the happy holiday season, the expectations are like vultures circling overhead. I saw people at Home Depot the other day entranced by the display.

This year new lights are shelved. New delights are displayed. Whatever you have done previously, is not enough. This year the lights are all white, or have 10 possible selections for sequencing. It is a brilliant, sparkling display of exactly what drives the population.

The fear of being out of step stems from ancient DNA encoding. If we were shunned; if we were denied food, shelter, companionship the only possible future awaiting us was to walk deep into the forest and await the inevitable manifestation of our particular death. The houses of the medieval village were no longer sanctuaries. The forgiveness of the church was no longer available. At the best, all we could hope for would be a quick death. At the worst, our souls would be damned to eternal hell fire and a very physical torture.

And so we are desperate to “fit in” to the rhythm of our society. People discard the old round Christmas lights and get the newly designed ones that signal importance and status. Shining out into the cold darkness of winter, is the message that this household is important. This household knows how to fit into the village. We have status.

As I was walking between the people with their carts filled with the newly designed badges of belonging, my rebellious in dwelling imp got out of control. I stopped and said,” Do you know Canadians have the highest credit card debt of any society on earth. We are #1.”

We are the love we seek

Some husbands turned and looked at their wide eyed, pupil dilated wives who had been pointing out what “new” items to put in the cart. There were looks exchanged.

And then I laughed. “It always feels good to be #1.”

What we learn from behaviour studies is that when we put too much pressure on ourselves to please others; when we require of ourselves that we go out to ten events in two weeks; when we take on heavy duty responsiblities that are out side our normative behaviour we become like a weight lifter that has lifted to fail.
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It is when it becomes too much that we turn to sugar, alcohol, screen addition, the quick fix of the credit card. Christmas is specifically designed like a no exit room to keep us in thrall to choices that do not serve us.

We become too exhausted to do anything more than make choices that are already made for us.

A woman at Michaels’ was buying a giant wooden sign that said Ho, Ho, Ho with glittery letters. And once again my pugnacious persona started laughing. It was a long line of people grasping at happiness with their baskets full of decoration.

I said, “What a good sign. After Christmas you can turn it around and it will read, “Oh, Oh, Oh to reflect your feeling when you read your credit card bill.”

Surprisingly enough all ten people in line laughed,  Maybe there is hope for us. Maybe we are always understanding even in the throws of addiction that we are in the throws of addiction.

And I am just glad, I don’t get sent to the principal’s office when my imp shows up.

My best practice now is to think, “If I were totally adult and sane right now… what would I choose?” It is something to consider. Merry Mindful Christmas.

 

We are only Human after all

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The stint of long distance stamina cross country marathon working pumping my limbs toward my goal of paying down my $110,000 reverse dowry (paying for my freedom from marriage) has been a great success. I have buckled down, buckled in, sucked it up, muscled up, stayed the course and bent my back into my airbnb business. As one of the top ten airbnb places in Kelowna, I have been so very grateful for the guests who have stayed with me. Their reviews, their company, their sweet thank yous have filled my life with light.

almost done

I have in a six year period gone from $110,000 in debt from the single check that I had to write in order to buy myself free down to a paltry $6,000 currently. However, the seven days a week of work for 8 months straight , of cleaning, of laundry, of restricting my movements so that I could be available to my guests, of living abstemiously ; of putting as much back into the business and the debt as my adolescent screaming on the inside could manage, has been demanding. There were openings of respite. I have gone on trips; purchased the odd new to me pieces of clothing and allowed frivolous expenditures like flowers for my garden that were not absolutely “necessary.” The unrelenting focus on paying down the debt and keeping my reviews at the Super Host status level has been a success.

Since October 20th I worked seven days a week from February 1st without a day off. And then I remembered  last year in October when I was shaky all over from the daily effort to bend my will, to put on the harness of discipline daily when I said out loud, “I need a break.” And then I fell down the stairs and fractured my wrist.

This year, I said to myself, this year you will stop before you are on your last torn shred of nerve. And so I blocked out all of November. I felt rebellious. I felt naughty. I felt outrageously irresponsible. How could I do that when I had debt left? How could I just ruthlessly cross off the chance to make thousands of dollars before my debt was disappeared.

I see a counsellor once a month and use her as my life coach. I check in with her to articulate what behaviours I am instilling in myself and what areas of wounding still drive my life. She worked with me for three continuous months gently suggestion that I could “let up on myself” before I saw a row of zeros on the debt counter.  I finally said, “I will be free at $10,000 stilll owing.”

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Today, I sit with $6,000 left on my debt in the month of November. I created this space of time off when I wildly crossed out all the days on  November’s calendar. And with a few days impetuously blanked out in October,  now I am living into 6 continuous days off. It comes home to me exactly how used up I am. I have no urge to travel, to start a new project, to explore the world, or myself.

The focus has been on meditation, sleep, teaching myself how to be a social being in the outside world again. I work out 5 days a week building muscle mass and I wait. I wait for the feeling that some magical glowing pathway will shine up into the gray befogged landscape of the present. I wait for the sense of joy and curiosity to return. I am no longer an indentured slave. I am no longer straining to put down the burden I have incurred by making an unenlightened choice of a mate. I have been buying off my own freedom. But I am tired.

What I find strange is that I had no idea exactly how pervasively exhausting and engaging this last six years has been. Having a purpose and a carefully defined struggle is a wonderful anesthetic. There are few decisions to be made. There are fewer possibilities  of going wrong. The harness is restrictive and comforting.

restrictions

And now, I cool my heels while my body recovers. I abide while I gain confidence that I am ready to deal with the outside world and finally walk toward my bigger dreams. My focus is on opening myself up to possibilities. So many of my delusions around deserving, around the heart hardening concept of toil, the crazily distorted mirrors which have reflected back who I think I am  are about to shift into the sheer joy of taking chances. It is right there in front of me and I am patient with not being quite able to see quite yet.

Autumn: What is happening?

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Autumn is a high wire act. The peak performance summer with its heat, 600 forest fires and 4 new guests every day into my home is one end of the wire. The other end is deep winter with its muted sounds, its sentinel plants poking up through the snow, its folding in on itself like a blanket around a reluctant person. In between, there are days that bring motivation. The gray coolness will be cut open with a sun knife and the clouds parted. The heat from the sky available in certain spot light areas.

As people turn up their furnaces, change blankets on the beds, structure new types of exercise into their lives the focus is on preparation.

How fitting it is that in the USA preparation for November 6th is also under way. The tribal disparities in belief systems have never been more virulent. Each side is now in a viral anger against the other. The background orchestral anxiety music is now playing so loudly it is causing a visceral reaction. Something is happening…. but it is impossible to see what it is.

We wait for winter hoping it will not present itself according to the predictions of the Farmer’s Almanac… a fierce and memorable assault. We wait for the election results in the USA with breath held. We wait to see if the disaffection with politicians and governments will fuel the rise of the hard cold presence of the conservatives here in Canada.
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Around the world there is a sense that we are only just maintaining our balance in a confusing time.

The work is to know we, each of us, walk alone together. Only the individual can stay in compassion and thereby show others a way of extending kindness. Only the individual can remain committed to healthy practices and thus show others it is possible to disengage from the self destructive distractions presented to us. Trusting our bodies is central. Trusting our in born values is more important than ever. Staying in a “self re-set” state is what past traumatic situations can teach us. The road of history is strewn with the psyches of those who trembled in fear. But those who know how to trust, know we are simply walking between two structures. Autumn turns to winter. Civilizations self destruct. Failing system fail. And now we take a breath. And now we find our balance. We hold onto the balance pole of love and stay focused.

Each passage from one structure of shared reality to another is giving us lessons. We are here to learn. It is a journey. Keep your balance.

Learning my boundaries: country of self

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I am constantly bumping into my limitations. There were days on end when the heat and smoke and working seven days a week were teaching me my capacity. How long can you go in a state of optimistic, accepting calm, woman? Hey. Let us find out.

When I stepped on a mass of dry twigs and three (so far that is the number that shot out of the resultant infection in my foot) shards were embedded; when my right eye stopped seeing clearly; when I found it difficult to breathe, I slid into a deep down knowing that the world was a crap lined cave of granite imprisonment. I forced myself to do the hours of work to prepare for guests every day but I settled for a grim existence.

stressors teach us

It makes me think of the experiences of my ancestors. The city is a fortress but it is surrounded by the invading hoards that have cordoned it off. No relief is in site. So for generations (on both familial trees) stoicism and indifferent detachment from one’s own suffering was the key to survival. I shift into “lock down” mode. I shift into disassociating mode.

Evidence of this arises frequently. After, I couldn’t see… I allowed three days to elapse before I got to the opthamologist.  Because the thought that something was happening to my vision was terrifying me, a person who is highly visually acute; an artist; a gardener, I buried it deep. Because my foot had an infection and stepping on it was painful, I just sat more. It was two weeks later that I showed it to my daughter and she suggested I actually soak it in epsom salts to encourage it to eject the intruding darts of lavender formed into weapons.

It was only when I sat with my counselor and explained some of the symptoms I was experiencing in my body that I heard her say, “Do you think you could be disassociation?”
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When the number and type of stressors I am experiencing ramps up, I go into lock down. I tell myself that the way out is to simply work harder on meditation and not see the events as negative. And then all hell breaks out. The bottom gear in my humanity is always blaming myself for my humanity.

no air

I have soaked my foot until all three pointy stick weapons were released by my body. I have begun to eat more salt to make sure my heart pumps blood to my eyes. I have once again made an effort to reach out to others to connect and not shut myself into my tower of protection.

And as I hang the laundry, once again, on the line I think about how my intention to build habits needs to be reinstalled… like failing software. Shut down the entire system. Then reboot and reinstall.

It is not like a war. The ground I am conquering is not myself. I am not a foreign country that needs harrowing and rebuilding. I am a garden. And weeding frequently, with love and conscious attention is working. Softly on the ground. Softly, softly on the ground.

Why Does It Keep Happening?

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I spend my mornings after I have prepared the house for guests seeking wisdom by listening to wonderful teacher. The lesson today is that we have established circuitry of thoughts and feelings.

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So the old story is actually embedded in our brains… the neurological patterns that limit our manner of process information comes from our childhood experiences.
The story of losing, anxiety, not enough time, not enough money, fear of damage… are all laid down much like roadways that we run upon.
It is why meditation, mindfulness and writing is so important in order to allow us to first see the old rutted highways.

all about the circuitry

Then like a wise developer of our own lives… we need to understand what the new pathway should look like for us to have a calm, satisfying and compassionate existence:
1. See it clearly. know how your being stuck is just a protective device left over from under the age of seven. The voice you hear in your head is “the protector” that tries to keep you from harm. But now, you are an adult not a child. You in the present are your own best guardian.
2. Be gentle with your stuckness, with that cycling through the same problem again and again. It is for a reason… it is so that you can learn and grow stronger.
3. Be very clear about how you intend to process information in the future:….I will see every moment as this moment and not as something to throw away.
4. Then begin to work with your body… how it works. Be very clear about only attempting baby steps for a new habit. All growth is through creating habits. Habits create new neurological pathways. Be very clear that what you are seeing is basically a lie (a left over story from your past) and set your intention to see the truth about life.
5. Now do the actions that are needed to build the new processing system in your brain without expectation of immediate success. Know it will work. You can change it.
First truth     1. We are each of us perfect. There is nothing wrong with you.
Second truth 2. Your connection to each experience creates your feelings about that experience.
Third truth    3. There is no failure. There is only learning. There is only growing.
Fourth truth  4. Every sadness, every anger, every sense of failure is not about now and never has been. Now…is an open field of exploration; of possibilities; of unlooked for joy.

rebuild the brain

We shut ourselves down… we shut the world down when we turn off the lights and then say it is dark. But we like the feeling. We like the victim. We like the self abuse because we are used to it. Society also rewards us when we sing the victim song. We get attention. People like to feed off of our sadness. They gather around.
We think being miserable somehow protects us from being really, really miserable.
So working on your circuitry and rebuilding your neurons… is the only way out.
It is not something you do after you have sacrificed the goat of hard work; after you have climbed the mountain of martyrdom; after you have gotten everyone in the village to bless you because you are so “nice”.
It is first. Working on your way of processing information is always the only real long term solution to old problems.
You have a relationship with your problems. It is an interaction. Look at them and ask: “why are you here?” “What are you trying to teach me?”

all in the brain

Be gentle with them and with yourself. And draw up a new development plan. Start working on your circuitry. You have everything to gain.

Attachment attitude: What is it?

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As I work in a daily, rhythmic manner running the airbnb I notice the thought arising: too much. It is interesting to see how jaded my attitude is to work. It has been my saviour as I worked 70 hour weeks most of my life as a teacher.

Our family embraced labour as an anaesthetic. Gabor Mate explained in his recent on line class that those who have been abused have “itchy” limbs. They seek to move in order to dispelling the trapped energy.

pink pinwheel catches the wind

I spent year after year watching myself and assessing my relationship with work. Scarcity mind set created an adrenaline fuelled kind of desperation. If life is too difficult, then everything is too difficult. This next “thing” is a struggle.

“And let me prove it to you,” my ego said. “Keep moving. Keep in the struggle. You cannot remove the dancing shoes, Princess.”

I no longer feel as if I am falling through uninhabited universes one after the other alone when I am not doing the cortisol/adrenaline dance. The sense of yawning emptiness that will melt my very existence no longer horrifies me. I know how to see it and release it.

intentional sanctuary

The secret is in checking my body. These are the signs that I am not abusing action:

1. I feel as if there is enough time for everything
2. I am not competing in my head with my past, with others, with some societal projection of success.
3. I feel at home in my body. I feel the ground beneath my feet, the space around me upholding me, the in flow of new energy in a smooth and untroubling manner.

I have shifted from making a copious to do list, the kind that takes up two sheets in my journal, to just touching intention in the same gentle way I touch a new blooming rose. I feel its texture. I breathe in its smell. I see the beauty of it.

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close up beauty

And then at the end of the day, when I was coming off of work addiction I structured a transition.  I had to write a list of what I had done without the rigidity of me trying to survive anything, or block out anything.

What most surprised me is that I would create as many intentions while moving through the day, as I did when I sat and forced myself to task. What surprised me is I was elated to see that I could trust myself.

Digging my heels into a donkey was my old way of working. But I came to see I was not a stubborn mule. I was a race horse filled with joy to just be kicking up my heels. There did not need to be a whip, or a jerking on the reigns.

I wanted to move and explore and learn. And I have found a way to do that that is more organic and less fear drive.

So when I feel a tightness in my chest from working 7 days a week, when I feel the old violin sawing irritation music, I remind myself to sink into the senses.

As I make the beds after hanging the candy colored sheets wave on the line, I select which brilliant pillow cover to place against another. Everything is art. Everything is creating. Everything is play. And I am spreading love energy in my house, thinking of the guests that will sleep peacefully.

the beauty

Can I know where I am headed by being frightened of it? I am beginning to see how the anxiety has handicapped me, now I am calm and trusting. Where ever I am, I am supported. Where ever I am, regenerating energy surrounds me.

And if I am beyond my limits after making beds for 153 people in four months, there is always a Netflix Brooklyn 99 binge retreat available.

I know how to take care of myself, finally. And it took over 70 years of learning to get here. But it is pretty “Toit”.

Is It Me?

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When I awoke this morning I came out of a two week darkness. I have been productive and sad. I have been friendly and grieving. I have been doing my job of running my bed and breakfast and at the same time being emotionally sluggish.

Yesterday, I awoke with a smashing headache, a stiff neck and a sense of the eternal weather of gloom around me.

What makes/made it even worse is that I know this weather system is from old geography.

I am highly aware that my self criticism is left over scar tissue. The conjunction with reality and my perception of reality is so blatantly out of line that even in my most unforgiving moments, I see it.

I say to myself, I  have nothing to be depressed about. My house is gorgeous. My garden is spectacular. The fences surrounding my queendom are sparkling white with fresh paint. My deck is sanded and freshly painted. My body is strong and healthy. My children know how to love their children. The signs of building a positive life are all around me.

But there is always something. There is one friend who always criticizes me. She bends to pluck a weed out of the garden, or points out something that is wrong in my life. I can feel the extra weight of her inspection piled on top of the scale. When she speaks to me, it shines a light on how fragile I am. Her thumb pushes down on a pile of weight I have already placed there. My own disparagement is already unbearable. And the heaviness of it appears more clearly when her voice is added to the deprecation dialogue running in my head.

When my counsellor said yesterday that my attachment bonding is wounded, I began to cry. Not a nice Victorian lady like drip that can be swept away by a lace handkerchief. It was a break in the retaining wall. It was a breech of the encapsulated story. I felt the grief of it and all that it has cost me.

And so I know that while my hands, my focus, my skills have created so much that is positive for me. I have a yearning to no longer be ostricised by my own mind. I was never good enough and so now I am never good enough for me. I could never help the pain around me as I was growing up and so now I try valiantly to heal the pain around me. But the pain within me… that is “sinning” I explained to my therapist. To carry the yearning for more than I have is somehow a transgression into evil.

The counselor asked me what it was I wanted to be. She asked me why I try so hard to be perfect and the words poured out.
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Toronto Love

I want to be “blameless” I said. I want to be not responsible for any failure. I desire once and for the rest of my life to be able to say that I am above reproach, beyond criticism, above suspicion, irreproachable, unimpeachable, in the clear, not to blame, without fault, exemplary, perfect, virtuous, pure, moral, upright, impeccable, unblemished, spotless, stainless, untarnished.

Untarnished. And there it is. “Nothing you did to me hurt me or handicapped me.”

The constant criticism in my head is where I carry the greatest damage. I yearn for connection, for expression, for the freedom to be the ferocious spirit of my soul.

And the methodology I intend to embrace is being “good enough.” I cannot protect myself from the violence that lies in my past.

“Can you be more loving to yourself?” she asked me. And it is exactly what I say to my clients. So I get it.

Processing is such a bitch.

Gathering Data

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He or she stands aside from society, in order to observe, in order to understand what the “game” is that is going on. A writer, an artist moves from the position of “in the game” and then “out of the game.”

There is a certain solitude that is both a gift and a curse. It is like watching people eating poi in a joy filled ceremony and thinking, “That looks delicious.” However, after tasting the culturally infused dish, the artist is reinforced in the separateness. Poi is tasteless, joyless, unsatisfying.

So making the decision to be at peace with not being at peace is vital. Disabusing oneself that the idea of being “in ” the circle, or “out” of the circle of inclusion is the answer is an important step.

Byron Katie in her systematic analysis of thoughts calls it “The Work”. The important moment is when a person stands facing another and in that moment knows clearly what it is the individual wants from that other person.

to see the small details

I frequently ask: What are my expectations for being in my society; what are my expectations for being a cultural anthropologist who simply observes the behavioural choices?

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the underpass

It is frequently the artist/seers who were most out of tune with their own culture who propelled the society forward. Matisse was vilified. His vision became the norm.

Artists/writers/seers move in and out of society. Their lives cycle from boredom, to risk and excitement. They come to trust the inner compass more fully as they mature.

One has to trust that the path is created by the step forward. And there are always those well lit places with flat land where the group gathers and shares their maps. There are those inspiration stops where the exchanging of ideas are vitally energizing.

Finally, the question of “Do I fit in?” becomes irrelevant. And the question, “Who am I now?” becomes the call to clarity. The relationship with self calls for the practice of compassion in movement, or in stillness. All is correct. Just observe and witness.