After a bit of soul searching, I am more dismayed about my perspective than I was dismayed about completing the project phase.

My life is in a constant state of flux, and I rarely know what I will be doing or where I will be doing it a week from now. I have so much going on at any given moment that most of my friends can’t keep up with me, and even my boyfriend never knows when my next flight will be. I rarely know when my next flight will be. My to do list is filled with projects and tasks that always seem to roll from one week to the next, regardless of size or complexity. I always get so close to finishing them that a few more hours at most would get them out of my mind. Instead I baulk, retreat, and assure myself that I will come back at another time.

These things I need to do are what provide me with stability in an uncertain and chaotic life. No matter what happens to me, no matter where I go, my to do list can come along. Physically or in my mind, it is always there. It is a constant companion. It does not tell me off, it does not judge me, and it is always ready to interact with me. Some of it is exciting, some of it is boring, but it always fills any sense of emptiness I might have.

Yesterday I decided that the backlog of things had to go. I dragged myself through tasks that left me wanting to scream like an unhappy preschooler. By the end of the day I was cranky, exhausted, and in desperate need of a break. It felt as if I had moved mountains, and I knew that when I reviewed it my to do list would have so many ticks that it would seem laughable to keep so many items for so long.

This morning, when I looked over it, I began to tick off items. But there were not as many ticks as I had expected. Then I realised how many things I need to do today were missing from it. Time critical things, such as picking Dad up from the airport and preparing the spare room. I quickly added them, and once again I have filled an entire week in my diary with stuff to be done. The list spilled over into next week, filling it into Wednesday.

Clearly this is not going to work in the long term.

I believe that the outside reflects the inside. This never ending stream of things I need to do is emotional stuff. It matches the physical stuff that I have been trying to declutter for years. I like to have a lot going on, but this is a dysfunctional way of achieving that. As long as I am fixed on low priority tasks, I will never have time for the high priority ones. As long as I keep making excuses or allowing myself to be distracted, I will never achieve what is important to me.

My project management book will be arriving with Dad tonight. I am going to examine everything on my to do list, and try to sort as much as possible into projects. When I rewrite the list on Sunday night, I hope that a lot of things will be converted to overarching subject areas. Perhaps by seeing my directionless pottering around as purposeful action, I can get a better perspective of how valuable my actions are for achieving my goals and dreams. I do work hard, but without a way to evaluate that I am left with fatigue and dissatisfaction. It just becomes emotional clutter, and I have more than enough of that.

In my class this week, we came to the place in the practice where I knew my teacher was going to say to me, “Now put your hands in position and push up into a wheel.” At that point, I usually think something like,” its too hard” or when I am grouchy, I think, “I hate wheel”.

Wheel forms my body in the opposite direction of how I normally hold myself. When I held myself in that first wheel of the day, I suddenly remembered that 5 years ago, I could not “push up into a wheel”. Suddenly I felt such appreciation for what my body does for me, and I appreciated that I can do things which are difficult physically, mentally, spiritually and emotionally. That wheel became a blessing that has stayed with me all week.

I found that quote in one of my journals from the year 2000. It said “page 119 Wisdom From Greater Community”. I don’t remember the book but, it is amazing how wisdom is timeless.

It is, indeed, hard to really discover who you are in isolation. For most people, relationships are a source of both pain and pleasure. Learning occurs as we bump up against our reactions to others and observe others’ reactions to us. We love and lose and hopefully, keep trying, to love ourselves as well as those with whom we choose to connect.

The longer I am alive, the more this process softens me toward myself and others. Most of us are really doing the best we can. We don’t emerge from the womb with a training manual. There are often things we simply have to figure out – sometimes more than once. That can be less than pleasant. It takes courage and commitment to really grow into your own fullness.

There is a delicate balance between authentic self expression and abandoning the self in deference to others. Both may feel like being in service to the greater good. The greater good, however, is only fully served when the giver and receiver are fed simultaneously. The giver receives when an authentic expression of who they are,  is truly received by another.

This doesn’t mean we should never over extend ourselves to someone in need. However, that should be occasional rather than habitual and it should conform to our code of ethics rather than coming from a need for approval or love. When we seek that kind of approval, it is a form of self rejection, a way of saying, “I’m not good enough.”

Not everyone is led (or driven) to discover their true function. There are certainly many ways to be distracted from that pursuit. In my experience passion and purpose are connected. They inspire both generosity and gratitude. So while it might be easier to watch a movie, play a game or even do laundry, it is globally important, that we include some introspection  and pay attention to the clues we get from our relationships.

If you are able to stay with yourself, as an observer, you will learn what expands you, brings you comfort, joy and peace. Of course, you will also learn what pushes you away or diminishes your spirit. The next step is not necessarily avoiding the things that diminish you. It is actually, residing peacefully within yourself, and allowing others to freely choose their own experience. I recognize this is not easy. It is however, freedom.

One would think that discovering and carrying out one’s “true function in the world” would be kind of a full time job and by the time you reached maybe, age 35 you would, at least, have taken care of the discovering part. Then you could just get on with the true function part. It doesn’t seem to work that way. Humans are complicated and are prone to change over the course of a lifetime. It requires time and attention to read our internal tea leaves.

Now, more then ever, we need to understand and dismantle our defenses toward others and our denial of deep personal truth. If each of us claimed our freedom to be who we are,  if instead needing acknowledgement and agreement for our perspective, we simply wanted personal awareness of our external and internal world, the world would change in a powerful way.

No one can bestow on another, the authority to live authentically. That is a personal rite of passage. Through our relationships and interactions with others, we choose our place in the world.

They were the same words: “hot”. But that time she meant something completely different. And yet, she had no other words to express her new understanding than with the same word she had before.

It’s easy to explain a definition of a word. It is not so easy to change a perspective. My daughter gained a new perspective, experienced a paradigm shift – in an instant. But that was after months of learning nothing from being told the word “hot”.

I find this to be a challenge when teaching people. I want to be able to give over a new perspective, but am challenged by the fact that it takes people time to really be able to integrate those new perspectives. It’s not just about learning the ideas or definitions. They really need to be able to experience life in a different way.

The reason that this is a particular challenge is that there is another issue. If I just tell them what we are trying to accomplish, it kind of “immunizes” them from learning it properly. As soon as they hear about the idea, they make assumptions about it, or believe they understand the concept. And that colors their feelings about it even after the time it would normally take to learn it properly.

So I’m faced with an interesting dilemma: My goal is to shift a perspective, to change a person. But in order to do that, I find I must be somewhat hazy when speaking about our purposes, to only tell the general idea. Otherwise, I feel I sacrifice the richness of the learning experience.

Is there a better way to do this?

© 2011, Vicki Hinze

Days that try souls are all too common.  Yet during the Christmas season, the myriad of feelings that weary us and try our souls—feelings of being isolated and adrift, of being sad or depressed, our struggles—are magnified.

Maybe it’s because we’re more attuned to others attending parties and we’re not, gathering with family and we’re not, or gathering with family or friends or groups that we wish we were not (just keeping it real) and we must.

Maybe it’s because we’re bombarded with memories of Christmases past.  Ones where our children were small and at home and we enjoyed their wonder of Christmas, their joy.  Or we were small and we view our memories through a lens where time dulls the bad and magnifies the good.

Maybe we’re acutely reminded of all those we’ve loved who are no longer with us, and we miss them.  Or we remember a life that once was ours and is no more, and the change, whether good or bad, isn’t as significant as mourning the loss of what was.  Or what we dreamed would be that just didn’t happen.

Maybe we’ve lost the joy in the season under the lengthy to-do lists that leave us too exhausted to enjoy anything except the peace in a bath and a few hours sleep.

There are a lot of emotional triggers during the holidays.  Some we expect and can prepare ourselves for, but some we don’t know are triggers until we’re body-slammed by them.

We’re all confronted with difficult relationships, difficult situations, and difficult people who want or expect more from us than we wish to give or maybe than we can afford to give.  Financially, emotionally or spiritually.

We lose the wonder and awe and the magic under busy-ness and requirements, under obligations and command performances.  We lose the wonder and awe and the magic under changed circumstance.  (Think divorce or job loss or empty nest.  Think widow or widower, orphaned, injured or ill.  Think knowing it’ll be your last Christmas and craving a Norman Rockwell one and getting one where you spend the entire day alone.)

All this happens.  And when it does, we are hurt and sad and alone and isolated, and we are surrounded by others who are having a merry and joyful time.  And we are resentful and bitter because often even those who are shunning or ignoring or too busy to be bothered never once extend their thinking to how their actions are impacting others.  Often others they purport to love.

My point isn’t to drag you into the depths of despair.  My point is to make you aware that many—even those you wouldn’t suspect—are in the depths of despair.

Who in your world will be alone this Christmas?  Who needs to hear from you?  To spend time with you?  Whose Christmas can you make a little brighter simply by bringing them into your circle and welcoming them as family and friend?

Before you slough that off as more work and bother, pause a second and remember that one day, the person in that position might be you.

Even the most wonderful Christmas has moments of heartbreak and sadness.  Christmases past, those no longer with you.  Changes.  And when those strike, you crave comfort.

It’s hard to find.  Those you typically go to and discuss your troubles, big or small, are tied up with their own troubles, big and small, with their obligations and requirements and duties and nurturing their own needy.

Does that mean you’re doomed to suffer without comfort?  To stay sad or depressed or struggle alone?

No.  It doesn’t.

God is with us always.  Christ is with us always.  He’s not too busy or otherwise obligated.

When the Christmas blues strike, I always remember what Christmas is truly about:  the birth of Jesus Christ.  But I don’t think of that event in the way you might think.  I think …

The World Rejoices.  God Mourns…

I think of God, watching His son’s birth, knowing all that would happen to Him.  As a loving Father, his turmoil and the heartbreak He surely felt at knowing His son would be mocked and abused and betrayed and lied to and about, tempted and beaten and murdered.  God mourned.  If I, an imperfect parent, mourn at the mere thought of my child enduring any of that, imagine the pain and agony of a perfect Father knowing His child would endure all of it.  Imagine…

We protect our kids.  We’d take their place.  Suffer for them.  But God, who loves unconditionally, sacrificed His son knowing what would come.

I think of that, and the turmoil and mixed blessings and agony God endured that night and I weep—and I tell myself that if He had the strength and courage to do that for us, then whatever we face might loom large but is small in comparison.  If He can do all He’s done, we can do what we must do.

In my mind, I sit at God’s feet with my head in His lap, and He strokes my hair and assures me everything will be all right.  I am not alone; He is with me.  And I am comforted.

Whenever feeling small and insignificant, hopeless or helpless, remembering what God sacrificed for us and how precious a gift it was and remains empties the desolate spaces inside us of sadness and angst and refills them with comfort and gratitude and the reassurance of His grace and unconditional love.

And then I wonder.

I wonder that we seldom choose to serve ourselves well when the Christmas Blues strike.  We seldom choose to pause and remember or to ask and answer a question that deserves far more attention from us than it gets:

On that night when His son was born and the world rejoiced and He mourned, who comforted God?

Blessings,

Vicki

The word that led me there today was “faith”. I wasn’t exactly thinking about religious faith. The definition that related to my pondering was, “firm belief in something for which there is no proof”.

I think it is much harder to have faith in ourselves and in the world than it is to have religious faith. Religious faith is usually affirmed by a group that is endowed with respect and authority, family, church, peers, etc.

Faith in ourselves seems to be much more challenging. When we recognize that we need to try something different or even stick with something a little longer, we face our fears of disappointment, failure and inadequacy. Sometimes those fears are linked to our history; the feedback we received about who we are and the observations we made about what was good or right in the world. Sometimes our fears are linked to the unknown; the unspoken awareness of our own vulnerability and mortality.

There are so many things over which we have no control. Changing, growing and moving  forward in our lives is often an act of faith. This is the type of faith I have been thinking about. When we experience loss or failure, we usually initiate tried and true approaches that have predictable outcomes. When those outcomes fail to meet our needs, we are forced to look for something new and different. This is where both faith and fear come into play.

Sometimes we get away with small changes that make a difference. We find knowledge or a teacher that guides and supports us in a proven way that works better than what we did before. I am always grateful when growth is that way. Sometimes we are shocked, stripped bear and lost in the woods with no smart phone and no GPS. That’s when fear and faith duke it out. That’s when we get to decide how much illusion we want to let go of.

Some might argue that illusion lies in faith; the belief in something which is unproven. I believe it lies in fear. Here is why. Fear stops us. Faith on the other hand moves us. Even if we fall into potholes or get tangled in weeds, faith will move us until we find what is useful, true and good.

When I think about that, it makes so much sense. After all, what was it that initially created the wound? What was the harshness or lack of kindness that gouged out that hunk of wholeness? More importantly, what would heal that? Perhaps kindness is the place to start.

That seems like really good news to me. No atoning, no evaluating, no second guessing and no regretting; just being kind. Sometimes however, it is far easier to be kind to others than to ourself. Wounding, like trauma, changes our sense of who we are in a way that is self-diminishing. As a result of their wounding, people sometimes forget who they truly are and feel undeserving of kindness.

I hope today, that you will remember that you are enough. I hope today you will suspend any harsh, critical, internal voice. I hope today you won’t listen to doubts about your worthiness. I hope today you are able to appreciate your life and  practice kindness.

I don’t advocate that we ignore all of these things and certainly, if we have a reasonable ability to contribute to positive change, we should consider that. It is important however, to recognize how we spend our time, thoughts and emotions. Particularly, the feelings of personal fear and doubt.

A few years ago I had the thought, if I could have a super power, I would want the ability to make people forget. I would, without a doubt, erase any negative impressions  others held about me. But, I would also,  make people forget their wounds and grudges, I would make them forget all the bogus feedback they had received about their abilities and maybe, I would make them forget what “perfect” is (since it is rarely attainable).

We are surrounded by messages that encourage us to hold a focus on what is missing, all of the subjectively important things we have yet to acquire, accomplish or maintain and all the “misguided” attitudes and behaviors of others. While for some, this may be a source of motivation, it is mostly a source of misery. The “if onlys” in life, sow fertile seeds of discontent that germinate into chronic anger or sadness. The “if onlys” often cast a hypnotic spell that blinds us to the the priceless large and small things that occur and exist effortlessly and by happenstance.

Perhaps we should make a list that would enumerate the pleasure of giving and receiving, the smells of rain, freshly cut grass,  or warm chocolate chip cookies, the sounds of nature or music, the moments of deep contact with a friend or loved one, the sharing of laughter or even tears. When we look for what is missing, we bond with others in misery and we form barricades that keep out that which we truly seek.

So far, I have been unable to manifest my amnesia superpower. Therefore, it is up to each of us, to exercise wisdom in the messages we take in about ourselves and the world. Each day we have the option to learn from our challenges and to surrender to the very real uncertainty of life. It has never been certain and it never will be. What is certain is that every moment has infinite potential and the gift of life allows us to experience this in accordance with our personal vision and beliefs. We each have the power to choose how we see life. We can see what is there or we can be blind to that and focus on what is missing. We can live in fear and anger over our lack of perfection and we can struggle against the experience of powerlessness that underlies that, or,  we can notice the simple things. The things that show up unexpectedly or are so common that we no longer notice their occurrence. These things, are perhaps, the truer reflections of our innate super powers.

Sometimes energy is expressed in a storm. sometimes it is more subtle and harder to observe. It requires that we “look” in a different way. For some people, this different way of seeing is hard to turn off. For others, that awareness has been subjugated and is a bit rusty.

If it is not natural for you, you might wonder, “Why bother?” Here is the big truth. Being aware of energy is one of the most important tools you can use to support your health, safety, relationships, longevity and overall well-being. It enhances discernment exponentially allowing for wiser choices and greater freedom.

In the west, there continues to be a bias that over values hard science and “objectively” verifiable data. Most of us really enjoy pinning our opinions to these types of possibilities. We assign credibility to outside media and experts and ignore vast inner truths about ourselves and our world.

When we ignore the soup of energy around us we sometimes become entrenched in consensus reality. Patterns of perception and behavior develop that limit our options to incubate and innovate to more interesting or advanced ways of being. Through repetition, we actually develop deep ridges in the brain that make change  difficult.

If you wish to develop your ability to sense beyond the five senses, you must first exercise your imagination. Imagination is the link between the denser physical world and that of subtle energy. You can imagine things about people, places and situations. It is not uncommon, to find some level of accuracy if you verify the validity of your imaginings.

Further cultivation of this skill comes with practice. The natural abilities that people have in this area can be broad and diverse. Some people are more visual. Others might connect with information through sound, a felt sense or direct knowing.

An interesting factoid about the applied use of this, is that people who consider themselves to be lucky, consistently access this subtle information. They call it trusting their hunches or trusting their gut. It warns them of danger and gives them extra possibilities for success, happiness and serendipitous good fortune.

The world around us contains infinite possibilities. So the next time you find yourself in a storm, perhaps you will sense into the energy around you and find the deep and subtle possibilities, to move beyond the static.

Lusseyran describes his first impressions as a young blind boy. He states “I had entered a new world, there was no doubt about it, but I was not its prisoner.” He  acknowledges his altered experiences of light, sounds, smells and shapes and gives kudos to his parents. They held and acted upon their own vision of their son’s wholeness. This shaped his future. Lusseyran wrote, “mine were parents willing to admit that their way of looking at things, the usual way, was perhaps not the only possible one, and to like my way and encourage it.”

Most of us are not forced in this way to expand our perceptions. Our “normalness” as well as our innate desire to belong, construct artificial boundaries around our own possibilities. Many people come from families who love them best, for the ways they can agree with their family’s perspective. Then again, there are those whose extreme rejection of  family and societal norms causes them to over value rebellion, which can be equally self-defeating.

Lusseyran was fortunate in the vision his parents held of him, in their ability to embrace and support his uniqueness, while fully including him as their son. The effect that the past has on the future is undeniable. However, the choice we make about what we see, at some point becomes our own. Ultimately success, innovation, growth, resilience or healing are about picking your view. Ultimately, we must build or acquire a variety of lenses through which we view ourselves, others and the possibilities available to us.

We acquire these lenses through our associations with other people, through valuing curiosity and its satisfaction, and by being, in some way adventurous. Certainty about what is right or  true often brings a level of comfort or satisfaction. When certainty solidifies however, it can be like looking through a lens that is fogged or scratched. Sometimes truth is found by looking very closely at what is going on. Sometimes that perspective blinds us to new approaches and opportunities. When we change the lens we are able to see what was always there but it looks different. Sometimes new possibilities are only visible when we change the lens.

But being diagnosed with dementia is different. When we left the doctor’s office 5 years ago after my husband, Dave, was diagnosed with Frontotemporal dementia, we were given NO hope. No hope for treatment, certainly no hope for a cure, and no ‘game plan’ on living a quality of life with this disease. We are in the new generation of baby boomers living with dementia.

I recently watched a Larry King Special on Alzheimer’s and it definitely wasn’t an uplifting program. But then what did I expect from a program on CNN where pain and suffering make headlines? Anyways, I learned a few things such as how little money goes into research for this brain condition. Larry said that 5 Billion dollars is spent on cancer research and 6 Billion dollars on AIDS compared to 500 Million on Alzheimer’s. There are 5.4 million people with Alzheimer’s in the United States. Not sure if that is all people with dementia or the most common form–alzheimer’s. And there are over 15 million unpaid primary caretakers.

The epidemic of the century. If people weren’t afraid or paranoid about getting Alzheimer’s before this program they might be now. The picture isn’t pretty. I realize that I am not dealing with the end-stage of dementia but my experience has been a personally growing and eye-opening one. I wouldn’t trade the lessons and insights that I am gaining for my life before Dave was diagnosed. Sure I am experiencing losses every day–but my gains are greater. They are greater because I am stepping back and looking at the person I”m becoming. The one with more patience when I’m in a traffic jam, or with the 20 tele-prompts before I speak with a human being on the phone, or with flights that are cancelled due to bad weather. When I’m riding my bike I’m not in a hurry like I used to be. I love to stop and feed alfalfa to the horses–savoring their ‘horsey’ smell and the feel of their soft noses as I kiss them.

I am learning (from Dave & practice) to live more in the present moment instead of worrying about how fast Dave is going to progress, or how I will handle it. I am more aware of little things like the beautiful sound of our cat purring, or the 2 blooming roses that escaped being eaten by deer. I have learned how to quiet the chatter in my mind by meditating for a few minutes in the morning, or by being aware of my breath throughout the day. Our neighbours, friends and family help me with the chores around the house because they feel good and don’t expect anything in return. For the first time in my life I can feel joy and peace without it being a sunny day or having loads of money in the bank. What a gift to feel this peaceful; a gift that didn’t happen overnight and not without lots of tears and inner work.

From the outside, living with ‘D’, seems horrific but there is more to this picture than is portrayed in the media. I realize that I’m only in my 50s and I have decades of building on the life experiences I am gaining from living with someone who has dementia–someone who is losing more than me–yet is surrendering to his reality.

“We need a renaissance of wonder.  We need to renew, in our hearts and in our souls, the deathless dream, the eternal poetry, the perennial sense that life is miracle and magic.”  E Merrill Root

I am a curious person and I am always wondering about all kinds of things.  I think having a sense of wonder opens and expands our minds.  Children are born with a sense of wonder and everything around them is mysterious and magical.  Babies love bright colors and moving objects and children can watch a worm for hours with a sense of wonder.  An adult may walk right past that same worm without even noticing.

One thing that get’s in the way of wonder is judgment.  We are taught to judge as a way of understanding how we fit in the larger scheme of things and from that prospective it is important, but when it becomes a habit of mind chatter that amounts to exclusion and narrow focus, it is not.

The dictionary defines wonder as the emotion aroused by something awe-inspiring, astounding, or marvelous: gazed with wonder at the northern lights. An emotion comparable to surprise that people feel when perceiving something rare or unexpected.  A feeling of surprise mingled with admiration, astonishment, or marvel caused by something beautiful, unexpected, unfamiliar, or inexplicable.

How would life change if we kept our sense of wonder?  Imagine walking out of the house each day with anticipation and excitement about what might unfold.  Imagine meeting a stranger who has a different opinion than you have and leaving your mind open with wonder to hear what he has to say.  Imagine see each person as an new opportunity to learn and expand who you are.  Imagine looking at a flower and seeing the depth of color, the beads of dew, your reflection in the beads of dew, the tiny bug crawling up the stem, the aura around it and the vibration of the color against the green grass or blue sky.  Imagine seeing all of the angles in a situation and pondering which might be best for your.  Imagine the possibilities!  This is childlike wonder.

I can’t go any farther without mentioning Wonderland.  Everyone loves the story of Alice In Wonderland because it is so magical and it evokes a sense of wonder in children and adults.  Wonderland is described as an imaginary place of delicate beauty or magical charm, an imaginary realm of marvels or wonders and a place that excites admiration and wonder. Because Lewis Carroll remained child-like as an adult it gave him entrée into the psyche of the child.  He never left behind his child-like wonder of the world.  He let his mind expand and didn’t censor himself and Wonderland emerged.

What would you do if you suddenly found yourself in Wonderland? In reality we do live in Wonderland.  It is still the same world we marveled at as children we just don’t see it in the same way. We live in the world that Lewis Carroll was inspired by.   Rainbows are still magical arches of color, roses are still visions of rare beauty and hummingbirds are still marvels of nature.

How would your life change if you started each day with excitement and anticipation? What would happen if you were truly open to everyone you met and what if you noticed the spectacular beauty all around you?  What if you didn’t judge who might be a good connection and who wouldn’t?  People are attracted to wonder and excitement!  It is magnetic!  I imagine if we approached life with a complete sense of wonder, dropped expectations and remained open there would be a massive explosion of excitement, anticipation and imagination.  This expansion of imagination would change the world!

To descend down a rabbit hole, to push through a mirror in a drawing-room, to enter that “other world” of the imagination is Alice’s destiny, as it might be said to be our collective destiny, if only we value it and cultivate it. I challenge you to put on your wonder glasses and look at the world through this lens for just one day. Find the rabbit hole in your psyche and drop down into it.   I think your world will change too.

Mantra for the day: I live in anticipation, wonder and gratitude.

Let’s  start a renaissance of wonder and a revolution of beauty!

Reprinted from Magnetic Business Women Blog

I followed up by phone call with some of the participants at the Jacksonville Birthing Project’s baby shower.  Some of them couldn’t be reached.  I’d unknowingly called a shelter, a place where these women (young girls, many of them) found themselves perhaps just as unexpectedly. My mind went to the conditions that brought them there.  It’s hard to describe the feelings this brought.  I guess, like my professor, I wondered why.

I wondered why.

In their worlds, did God and homelessness co-exist?

I was walking on the beach today and thought- what if everything I see is perfectly designed for me, like in that Jim Carey movie where he’s in a reality show and doesn’t know it.  I thought- what if life was really like that, only the people setting the scene were divine forces?  What if every shell was there for me to observe; what if every seagull, every boat and surfer and random dude walking by in a hurry were a clue, or the key to a closed door, and what if all experience were viewed from this perspective?

Hmm…Dr. Bengall couldn’t take the great mind leap, but I can.  I can choose to see that everything- whether it’s judged “good” or “bad”- is seeded with potential.  Just like the women in the shelters of downtown Jacksonville or the oppressed women in India and across the world are seeded; just like we all are.  The struggles we face only serve to nourish the seed, to help it grow.  Crisis and suffering can be trusted as much as anything else- they will always bring us to something new. Unless of course we get stuck in the Holocaust.

In the faint light of the attic, an old man, tall and stooped, bent his great frame and made his way to a stack of boxes that sat near one of the little half-windows. Brushing aside a wisp of cobwebs, he tilted the top box toward the light and began to carefully lift out one old photograph album after another. Eyes once bright but now dim searched longingly for the source that had drawn him here.

It began with the fond recollection of the love his life, long gone, and somewhere in these albums was a photo of her he hoped to rediscover. Silent as a mouse, he patiently opened the long-buried treasures and soon was lost in a sea of memories. Although his world had not stopped spinning when his wife left it, the past was more alive in his heart than his present loneliness.

Setting aside one of the dusty photo albums, he pulled from the box what appeared to be a journal from his grown son’s childhood. He could not recall ever having seen it before, or that his son had ever kept a journal. Why did Elizabeth always save the children’s old junk? he wondered, shaking his white head.

Opening the yellowing pages he glanced over a short entry, and his lips curved in an unconscious smile. Even his eyes brightened as he read the words that spoke clear and sweet to his soul. It was the voice of the little boy who had grown up far too fast in this very house, and whose voice had grown fainter and fainter over the years. In the utter silence of the attic, the words of a guileless six-year-old worked their magic and carried the old man back to a time almost totally forgotten.

Reminded that he had kept a journal of his business activities over the years…Opening a glass cabinet door, he reached in and pulled out an old business journal. Turning he sat down at his desk and placed the two journals beside each other. His was leather-bound and engraved neatly with his name in gold, while his son’s was tattered and the name “Jimmy” had been nearly scuffed from its surface.

As he opened the journal, the old man’s eyes fell upon an inscription that stood out because it was so brief in comparison to other days. In his own neat handwriting were these words:

Wasted the whole day fishing with Jimmy. Didn’t catch a thing.

With a deep sigh and a shaking hand, he took Jimmy’s journal and found the boy’s entry for the same day, June 4. Large scrawling letters pressed deeply in the paper read:

Went fishing with my dad. Best day of my life.

These past few years have been a time of massive personal growth and uncovering the ‘real’ Holly. It isn’t an easy process but definitely worth the sweat and tears that come along with it. Living with a husband with dementia has taught me about unconditional love, patience, surrendering to what is, and living in the present moment. In addition, when our investments collapsed I had to search for a deep knowing or trust that I would feel happy again–despite my external circumstances.

This morning I was listening to a meditation about self-love in one of my energy/intuitive coaching courses. It seems that no matter how many times I practice or become aware of the need to love myself, I always learn a little bit more about how to do it. I’m finally understanding that if I’m to truly love someone without conditions, then I have live it myself. When I judge another person I am really finding something inside of me that I don’t like. For 57 years I have been looking for love outside of me when all this time, it has been inside.

Loving myself is far more difficult than I imagined. I didn’t realize how often I look in the mirror and pinch the extra soft tissue around my belly or upper hips. Or notice the abundance of wrinkles multiplying daily. How about the endless times that I beat myself up for the mistakes I made in investing our hard-earned money. How many more times do I have suffer? When will I truly surrender or accept what is and learn from it? When will I understand that I always do my best and that mistakes are fertile ground for learning. And in regards to my body image…how about learning to let go of my judgments and loving every bit of ME. Me–because I’m unique—just like YOU.

To help you on your path to loving yourself unconditionally, here is a shortened version of what I learned this morning. It helps if you are in a quiet area with your eyes closed or slightly opened and relaxed.

First of all think about someone you LOVE with all of your heart and soul. Take a second and find out where you feel this emotion in your body. For example, when I remember the moment our son or daughter was born, I feel a huge ball of love in my chest area. It feels so good to think about my family, pets, patients in my physiotherapy practice,  friends, and our home in the country.

Now I want you to focus on your heart or wherever you feel your love and turn up the volume on it. Turn it up as high as you want and feel it spread throughout your body. Then put your hand on your chest and say out loud…”I LOVE me” 3 times. Notice how you feel and whether it gets easier on the 3rd time. Turn up the volume knob again (without effort) and really feel the love you have for yourself. Then take a couple of ‘easy’ breaths and slowly open your eyes. Look around and notice how you feel and whether the room looks any brighter or sharper.

Like any new lesson, it takes ‘conscious’ practice before it becomes easier. To help you out over the next 21 days (that is how long it takes for a habit to form), I want you to look in the mirror every morning, and while looking into your eyes say…”I Love you, thank you for being so wonderful and for being you”.

Don’t forget…to give love you need to love yourself first.

When someone is upset or having an angry moment, my sister says, “there’s a pony in there somewhere” (ie. A golden lesson). This past week I phoned her because I needed to ‘vent’ about a persistent bear hanging around our bird feeders. She used her pony line with me and it broke the tension. We laughed; we believe that everything happens for a reason but we couldn’t find the pony in my bear dilemma. That is…until I finally stopped paddling upstream and stopped resisting Mother Nature. It will make more sense after you read my story…

Once upon a time there was a black fluffy bear roaming Campbell Creek Valley. One day in October he came upon a stash of GOLD—a winter’s supply of fruits and nuts. There are plenty of ripened chokecherries and a dozen bird feeders filled with sunflower seeds. When the homeowners wake up the next morning they were upset to find that several of their feeders are damaged–all of them are empty. They knew immediately who the visitor is. So they salvage a few of the feeders because they love to watch and listen to the birds. They built a pond and planted various berry bushes that attract large number of birds.

Mrs. E—the mother of the household—is determined not to let this young bear ruin her bird sanctuary. She decides to outsmart him by hanging one of the feeders in a tree about 20 feet off the ground.

Later that night Mrs. E is outside with her dogs when she hears some clanging and commotion in the tree. She looks up to find the young bear munching his snack from the feeder. Mrs. E is NOT happy. She immediately takes the dogs inside and brings out a ‘bear banger’–fireworks that are supposed to scare away bears. But her plan backfires. She shoots the banger but it only sends the trembling bear higher in the tree.

Since Mrs. E knows that it is almost time for the bear to hibernate, she works with his nightly schedule and brings all of the feeders in after dusk.

Winter came and went. It is the beginning of May and once again Mrs. E notices that her feeders are missing from their posts. Parts of them are scattered on the grass and under the trees. She instantly knows that her furry friend is back. Not only has he returned but also he is very hungry and hangs around for most of the day. This puts Mr. & Mrs. E and their dogs on a constant alert.

For 4 weeks the struggle continues…always looking out the windows, bringing the feeders in and out of the house, and grabbing them quickly as the bear hisses from 15 feet above.

One afternoon Mr. E’s best friend–a biologist, is visiting and tells them they need to stop feeding the birds if they want to get rid of the bear. Mrs. E is feeling sad because she loves the sounds and sights of birds. It’s taken her 19 years to build up this population and in one week she is going to lose it all—just because of ONE stubborn bear.

The next couple of days are sad and very quiet. Every time Mrs. E spots a bird looking for one of the feeders she gets upset and a little madder at the bear. Mad because she can’t control this wild creature–or this situation.

But it gets worse. Mr. and Mrs. E return home after a day at the lake to find that Mr. Bear has destroyed the 2 remaining hummingbird feeders. Mrs. E has reached her tipping point. She doesn’t have any more ‘fight’ left in her. She sobs and sobs like she hasn’t done in years—if ever. She knows her tears are for something far bigger than losing her birds but she doesn’t stop to think about it. She feels the pain and cries until there are no tears left.

The next morning when the bear arrives, Mr. and Mrs. E and their dogs don’t scare it away. They watch from their den window as he finishes eating a few scattered seeds on the ground. Within 5 minutes he is on his way. No fuss, no muss—just ease. And since that day, he hasn’t returned to the feeders.

Here are 5 life lessons that I learned from my bear experience:

#1 Don’t assume anything. I assumed that bears don’t climb trees and wouldn’t be able to access the feeder in the tree. (picture of a bear in a tree) I also assumed that I would lose all of my bird population if I didn’t feed them for a few days. Wrong on both accounts. I have as many species, although the numbers are down. This isn’t all bad because it means less bird food (less expensive to buy) and fewer birds that die from flying into our windows

#2 Feeling into sadness or anger. I think this is the 2^nd time in my adult life that I have allowed to let the tears flow without stopping or suppressing them. I am learning to be okay with the darker emotions. I have a tendency to run away from them because they don’t feel very good and besides…strong girls don’t cry. But ‘suppressed emotions’ take a toll on the body—mentally, emotionally & physically. Science has proven that over 85% of our physical pain and illness is due to emotions stuck within our body.

#3 Turning the ‘effort’ knob down. When I realized that my effort or fight was wearing me down, it was time to turn down my effort knob. As Byron Katie says…”fighting reality is like teaching a cat to bark”. Since the day I relaxed and decided to work with the bear (after all we are living in his territory), he hasn’t returned. Go figure!

#4 Looking under emotions for a deeper meaning I knew that my tears over losing the birds were the tip of the iceberg. What is below them is the frustration and powerlessness in trying to control things in my external world. I should tape the Serenity Prayer to my desk to remind me…”God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference”. This bear experience is like trying to control the progression of my husband’s dementia. It is not to be controlled—only my response towards it.

#5 There’s always a pony in a painful experience—it takes time to find it. I found many ponies (or golden lessons) in dealing with a black fluffy bear. I’m discovering that every painful situation or experience in my life is another opportunity for learning and growth. It’s not fun going through them–but well worth it.

Last month I was speaking with a fellow colleague and telling her about my list and she simply said…”it  doesn’t have to be hard”. I thought for a moment and replied…”you’re right, it doesn’t have to be”. The lightbulb turned on. It’s my choice to make it hard or not. So before my next course in Colorado, I tested this theory out. Every time I felt tension in my neck or head, I simply turned down the imaginary Effort knob. I was able to get ready with very little stress and the actual time it took to organize everything was far less than I thought.

Gardening and weeding is another area of overwhelm for me. When I turned my knob down, I decide to weed for 10 minutes every morning when I take the dogs out for their pee. You should see the progress I’m making. Who says I have to spend hours doing it?

I am making this blog short and sweet because it’s less effort. I just want to remind you that when you feel like your are struggling–or life seems overwhelming–turn down your Effort knob.

Then ask yourself 2 questions:

1. is it really hard?

2. if the answer is Yes–then ask how can I make this situation easier? You will be surprised at how much simpler and easier life can be. As a bonus, you will feel more rested and happy because you won’t be dipping into your physical, emotional and mental energy reserves. Have fun!

Every time I experience pain or loss in my life I remember this song. And despite how deep a pain penetrates I wouldn’t have missed the dance. This past week there was a sad situation involving a wounded deer. She was a young doe and was trying to eat from our bird feeders. I shooed her away but she didn’t move very quickly. It wasn’t long before I saw that her lower jaw was dislocated and hanging loose. Then when she turned around to look at me, I saw a large open gash on her left forequarter and she was limping. I started crying—in fact it was an ugly cry as my sister would call it—because I was helpless to help her. To make the situation worse there was a coyote circling around waiting to capture her. I couldn’t watch any longer. This scene along with red-tail hawks snatching white-crowned sparrows out of the sagebrushes, or pygmy owls knocking hairy woodpeckers to the ground and then flying away with them are difficult for me to see. But am I willing to give up the peacefulness and calm that goes along with country living? Not a chance.

The dance of owning pets is another one that I wouldn’t miss. When I was young my parents gave away our pets when they reached a year old. Not sure why although it might have something to do with moving houses every couple of years. One of our pets, my beloved Mitzi, a standard poodle, lived with us for 7 years. Then my parents gave her away to a good family. On that day I promised myself that when I grew up I wouldn’t own a pet because I didn’t want to experience the pain of losing them. But that promise didn’t last long. One day my husband and 2 young children came home with a 7-week golden retriever named Jake. He received Jake as payment for one of his duck carvings. Jake was the cutest puppy I had ever seen—red fur and a little red colour. I was hooked instantly. Since that day we have never lived without a dog—in fact we have 2 dogs (I’m resisting buying a 3^rd one), a ginger cat with white boots, Marty and about 40 goldfish in our outdoor pond.

This morning I was hiking with the dogs and thinking about being a care partner with Dave. I wonder if I would have said ‘I do’ in 1978 if I had known “the way it all would end, the way it all would go”. Would I have married Dave if I knew he would develop dementia in his 50s? Well I will never know how I would have felt in 1978 but in 2011 I wouldn’t trade my life–or Dave–for anyone else’s. Despite the challenges and pain of slowly losing my husband I wouldn’t miss the dance—lessons on living and loving the present moment, loving without conditions including myself, surrendering to what is, and compassion. I never imagined that life could feel this peaceful or calm regardless of what is happening in my outer world.

Just like the song says…”Yes my life is better left to chance. I could have missed the pain but I’d of had to miss the dance”.

Earlier this week Dave wanted to go into town and do a couple of errands. The roads are a bit icy so I drove him to the nearest city bus stop—10 km. away. When we are pulling up to the bus stop, Dave sees a young man waiting for the next bus. He is really pleased that he doesn’t have to wait long. Sometimes the wait is up to an hour.

Before Dave is out of the car, he asks the fellow “if he is waiting for the bus”. He politely says “yes” although I’m wondering if he’s thinking—what a dumb question. As Dave continues to slowly get out of the car, he proudly tells him… “so am I”.

Getting out of the car is getting more difficult all the time for Dave. He has to lift his legs with his arms and then puts both of his hands on top of the passenger door as he hoists himself to a standing position. Never a complaint…he just adapts.

After dropping Dave off, I turn my car around to head home. I wave as I go by and notice Dave wearing his ball cap with ear flaps (keeps out some of the noise and wind), and his camouflage knapsack to carry the 2 items he’s picking up at the grocery store. He gives me the biggest smile and ‘thumbs up’ because he is going on an adventure. Can you imagine looking like you won a million dollars just because you are getting on a bus to go to the bank and do an errand?

Such simple pleasures and yet sometimes life is too busy to notice. Looking back on the morning I realized that I was given a simple gift—a gift in the form of a smile and a ‘thumbs up’. That was worth more than a million dollars.

There is much to learn from those people with dementia…simpler life and simple pleasures.

Dave's thumbs up as he says goodnight!

An example of perspective is one of two people who see the same movie.

One person sees the movie and they see a beautiful story of two people falling in love. The story she sees is about a girl who lives in a land where she is a princess and all she wants is to have someone love her for her, not for her title. She happens to fall for a boy who is a prince but she doesn’t know it. Both characters give up their public identities and transforming in to their true self for the other. Their story ends up with the two of them together and happy with a few songs thrown in for good fun. They get married and live happily in their palace.

Her friend, who goes with her, sees the movie in another way. She sees a classic story of misogyny, where women only want a man who will take care of them. The main character has to “give up her voice”, which is the most beautiful in the land. That means she is seen and not heard. Then she gives up her “tail” and gets legs (because she has to change for men to love HER) and now she can spread them and have babies. Without her voice the “prince” can objectify and project his ideals on to her and make her “his”. All so he can marry her and have someone clean his palace.

Who has the accurate perspective? Both. The example is that they assign meaning to the story without asking the author what they meant. They are projecting their history and experience on to the actions and words of the author and characters. And so the movie shows them their truth about the world.

The challenge of life is that we do this in our daily life; projecting our truth and experience on to the world. What is your projector? Is it your heart? Or is t the stories of the past which the current world may not even know. Can we change the lens and have Ho’omaka, a new perspective?

Can you choose to see the same event and hold back judgment? When you see someone make a face or “do” something that annoys you, can you sit in compassion and observe your own reaction. Now, instead of judging, can a question begin with something like, “I wonder: what does that means for them?”

In finding the question we can learn about them, if we want. If it is someone who is passing, perhaps in traffic, then we can let them go and surrender to the next moment. And in the surrender is balance; a point of not-knowing allowing your center to be and all else to flow around.

Find your balance. Allow the flow to happen and observe. Ask questions. Surrender your past.

And in case you were wondering, the movie is “The Little Mermaid”.