Category Archives: fear and anxiety

Metta View: I can’t see me.

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.As I was twisting around in the mirror, turning lights to reflect illumination on the upper quadrant of my back, I thought about the ideas of “seeing” and “flexibility.”

I was bitten by a brown recluse spider three weeks ago and part of my morning ritual is now to go stand with my back to the mirror holding my phone on camera and trying to set up a clear shot at the inflicted area.

Almost immediately after I was bitten, the two puncture wounds showed themselves but over time with strong antibiotics and tetracycline cream, it is down to a distinct area of red. However,  I am under compulsion to view it. It is “behind” me. I cannot reach it easily. I cannot see it clearly. The ritual of self-protection is built in the monitoring of my body.

The entire OCD driven idea of assessing how I am at this moment, how my past decisions and actions impact on my physical, emotional, spiritual energy, is the place I have landed in my life.

The bite is no longer spreading. The dark ring around it is no longer turning black. The center is beginning to collapse inward as the online information had predicted. But what about the rest of me?

I keep coming back to the idea of blind spots or black boxes. There is an obstruction in knowing the self and it is held in the steel-like neurons that form a spider’s web of concepts.
I know I cannot turn easily to look at my spider attack but that information goes into the basket: “Must do yoga- I hate yoga.” It is filed away.

I watched a video today by a 92-year-old weight lifter who began his self-improvement beyond the age of 80. As I watched, I felt the flush of the warmth of excitement and passion for what I in my secret most heart want for myself. And as time elapsed I filed the intention in the: “Must work out more but don’t feel like it now” basket.

The issue I explain to my patterned self, my toy train on a track self that goes round and round and reaches only the same train station as it ever reached, is that I have a bankruptcy of using time.

Time is energy. Time is optimism. Time is the ultimate expression of the physical. Since I have been retired in 1999 I was outer directed as an artist. I prepared for shows. I worked to deadlines. I spent money in the hopes of making money. I “was” something.

over view

And then I opened the Airbnb for eight very successful years. I was once again outer-directed. The customers coming in would trigger action. The six to eight hours a day spent making beds, doing laundry, wiping down surfaces was not negotiable.

Now, at 75, I have my debt paid down. I have all the time in the world. The Pandemic has turned off the switch of the impulse of action triggered by the outside world and I twist around attempting to see myself.
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And what I see is the problem with “float”. I float in time because “I deserve it.” They tell me that. The inability to look forward to appointments, to trivial meetings with others, to pleasurable strolls through thrift stores to buy things I have no use for and store in the dark peripheries of my house has left me bereft.

Issues such as age, the constant mirroring back to me of what I am expected to do or be as a senior, an inborn faulty setting due to years of being a workaholic and one who has trained herself to jump for the reward cookie held in someone else’s hand haunt me now.

But when I drift in the mornings, I do it listening to coaches, watching videos, reading teachers.

training the mind

I think of the trips I took to Europe and how I spent so much time buying maps when I could have been learning a new language.

Always, always, always my mind runs like a sheep dog herding up scattering thoughts. I come back to the knowing surety that I am a construct. The habits that I build create my choices.

So can we ever know ourselves? How can we twist around enough to get a clear view?

I can only register in my mirror the actions that I am taking. Some of them are shaky, unskilled, full of frustration. But some of them have removed countless moments of drama and struggle that used to occupy my ego.

The spider bite is healing because I followed doctor’s orders even though the antibiotic was very unpleasant. The food I eat is kind to my body and supports my health. The friends I have around me are loving and supportive.

Each day is another construction site. Each day is another laying down of more track for my train to go further, to explore more, to not be so tightly wound.

Ultimately it is a better use of my time to focus on the use of my time instead of looking behind me to see if there is any scarring from past poison. I see my mind grabbing at me for security and I understand the fear that drives that grasping.

Can I loving schedule my time so that I am being rewarded for each minor victory? I begin. I begin again. I begin each every now. Eyes forward.

Day 22. But who is counting?

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Through this 22 days of semi-isolation I watched myself cycle up and down in energy. One day I am out in the garden walking 10 kilometres while hauling dirt and cleaning out the beds. The next I awaken with a headache and am stiff and sore all over. I have no interest in engaging with this new day. There isn’t enough passion in me for the beginning.

The underlying use of energy to keep myself afloat is obviously syphoning off what I would normally be doing this time of year. But managing the body, the emotions, the spirit take monitoring.

To be able to scan the self and see , “No. You cannot push me today,” written on the gauge means I must respect how the entire system I call ‘myself’ is operating.

Today I sat with a Metta Practice video for 30 minutes and I could feel it clearing me. It felt the same way that sliding an overworked, muscle torn body feels sliding into hot water in the bathtub. There was the first recognition that, yes, I was listening. Then the relief as I could feel myself letting go of even that which I did not understand until that moment had been a weight I was carrying.

As I worked my way through the practice, selecting first those who are easiest to love and sending them my wishes and moved on to those who are more challenging, I was floating in a tub of hot water. Each breath, each thought caused more release from my body. I became lighter.

The spirit craves simplicity. The soul yearns to love openly without worrying about being hurt, or attacked or wronged. We all share the desire to drop the protective shield that we are taught is the only safety.

The conspiracy theories are now plastered all over social media at various angles, They are crisscrossing one another out. This statement is untrue, that statement is untrue. Only we in our cult of reality know what is really going on. We hold the tablets with God’s word.

I see the clinging to groups more and more as we are more and more isolated. Our childlike need for the protection of belonging is highly activated now when we are not allowed to sit face to face.

“Show me you belong to my structured belief system group by posting pictures of black chickens,” someone will demand. We are separated into our families in one isolation chamber or we are floating alone in our homes without pets or other people. We need to prove to ourselves that we still hold social power.

And so we cycle. We talk about how nothing is true; more is true than we will ever know; the monsters are no longer in the closet or under the bed. They are everywhere. They are on the TV screen daily.
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And so surrounded by shadows that we see because we are so frightened of being on our own, we now accumulate more and more conspiracy theories.

The way out of our own, internalized, lies to ourselves and our sense of an unsafe world is through a deep appreciation of the efficacy of self-calming.

return to self

We go back to the child. We go back to the bursting out of our chest desire to love. We go back to making it safe for ourselves to trust and be compassionate.

I got out of the bath and left behind all of the spider webs of sticky thread imprisonment. I came back to the truth of being human.

We want someone to tell us it is safe to love others. We want our martial arts master to say we don’t need the sword; we can take off the armour.

And then I felt so much more present in my own body as I recited , “May you be safe. May you find joy. May you be released from suffering.” I said it for others, and I said it for myself.

Let go. Trust. Be of good heart. Nothing needs to be true except this breath, this now. Come home. Remember to love.

 

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.

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.

Where Am I, I?

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Since May time has been a bullet train to some outside force decided destination. I have the business to run. And being so much further up the mountain, I have the wisdom to know when the heat of summer arises I need to “cool my jets”.

The thirty minutes break in the afternoon laying under the strange Tardis looking free standing air conditioner is the only thing between me and the type of dementia that would send me clawing off all of my clothing and running into the street yelling, “I don’t understand. I don’t understand.”

Lately the unsolved technological problems have begun to be like a strange purple itchy erruption on my skin. There are so many spots of it and no matter how assiduously I ignore it, it is distracting and irritating.

So I put on my big girl panties, or my old lady drawers or some such metaphor meaning I covered up vulnerable areas carefully, and went after the problems.

I got my new cell phone to connect to my house wifi with the help of only two tech wizards. One referred me to the next one.

Now emboldened, I contacted a second IPower tech. The first one told me to do several things that simply flummoxed me.

I kindly told him, “I have reached my level of optimum frustration. I don’t understand anything you are saying. I am going to go away now.”

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(Notice how I snuck in my Red Bubble store in that paragraph).

So I was like a warrior with two heads in a pile and was ready to kill another enemy freaking frustration. I got the Ipower tech on the line and learned how to empty my cache and cookies. I felt renewed.

At that point my Paypal went down and I don’t even know how I managed to get CPR on that system to get it back on its feet.

Craving more power… I contacted a local video school to ask for a student to solve my WTF is happening when I load my photo booth video clipped to the wonderful intro a friend made for me. The two connected in IMovie.0.0.9 just smush the video blog and it looks like Cybil Shepherd’s scenes in Moonlighting. There is vaseline on the lense.

The sense that there are times of growth and times of maintenance is strong. Learning to attend to new challenges is not something I embrace. My strength is in the super self-discipline of doing what must be done. So, really, when I define myself by what I do or can do, it is erroneous.

I just never know. Very much. At all.

Control is Not Controlling

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As I sat at breakfast with a talented dancer and yoga teacher, I enjoyed her presence, the sun on the patio and not so much the big white dog licking my butt between the iron boundary fence.

seeing flow

I am so entwined with work, discipline and control issues that I have to be skilled and respectful. Removing some of the ties to my usual method of living has to be done with a surgeon’s care. Issues that came up when she asked me to breakfast were deeply set into my habit mind like some glistening stone.

She is a dancer and does not have a lot of money. She has to work hard, travel and squeeze out survival by being a gypsy hustler. Intentionally dismissing these thoughts I remembered that it is my wholeness that allows me to accept gifts, love, care and help.

Being in control is exhausting and ultimately cruel to others. Can I grow my spirit enough to simply rest in the present without making it some kind of reality game where in I keep track of who holds the greatest power? So often, I have paid for others, I have helped people to move from one place to another, I have given free coaching advice, given away clothing. And down down down in the deepest darkness I have come to realize it is a bribe. It is a “Please love me” bribe.

The greatest attachment wound I carry is that I believed for decades that I was not loveable. And with that metal flack jacket over my heart, I have protected myself from injury. Or so I thought.

It is a tasty herb that viagra buy can be added to your order to account for the shipping. Horny Goat Weed has been used to treat impotence, increases sperm production and enlarges levitra generika find out address the penis. With easy online bookings, you are sure tadalafil 10mg to be there but then what makes peace in one’s life is the sheer amount of love, affection and joy that we get at home from our spouses. The acquired factors including that testicular dysfunction caused by testis injury accidentally, infection of orchitis or vesiculitis disorders and so on lead to the disease of erectile dysfunction such as excessive intake of alcohol, the side effect of some of the drugs, the excessive masturbation in the boyhood, the aging process, buy tadalafil from india and the heart has to be in good shape to keep pumping that blood around.) Potassium also helps. When I taught up North for nine years and a fellow teacher was leaving, I said to her, “I don’t have any other friends here. Nobody likes me. I haven’t dated because nobody is interested in me.”

As she watched the home made cinnamon buns rising in the over to take with her on her journey to the south, she told me her truth.

“You never let anybody close to you. You never see people trying to help you. You are constantly proving you are strong, independent and have no time for trivialities like friendship.”

After she left, that observation stayed with me. I wasn’t able to heal or solve the problem at that time… but it was like a first injection of the cure. It took more experiences, more failures, more heartbreaks to come to a place where I understood that I alone was keeping the bitter plant of “not being loveable” alive where my heart should be.

With the constant flow of people through my house staying at my bed and breakfast, I have been exposed to much joy. I make the beds with the intention of providing a clean, calm healing space for people. But it is not an adrenaline driven attempt to compensate. It is sufficient to smooth down the sheets, to put a small bouquet of flowers on their night stand.

And I am able to let more energy in. I pick up the money and thank the person in my mind. I touch the little note the couple has left me and think of how beautiful they are. I put the present someone left me in front of my Buddha on my altar. And as I sit at breakfast with a beautiful, strong dance professional, I think that I am finally learning that trying to control, measure and monitor the exchange of love is a mugs’ game.

We are in an energy dance and sometimes I lift up others and sometimes they lift me up. The choreography is perfect.