There were some surprises. Of course.

I realized I had let go of a very important relationship. Part of what is important to me is that “letting go” does not require banishment. It does mean that I do not judge him according to my criteria. He does not have to change or make other choices in order for me to accept him and love him.  This is quite a shift. I am establishing new boundaries which redefine our relationship, but I now believe the relationship can continue.  The painful aspects now feel like birthing pains – much good will come out of it, no matter what. I am so glad for that. I am so, so grateful for the lessons learned.

One of the things I have embraced is my role of “Auntie Dibbie” to nearly 3 yr old Hailey. I did not come into this relationship with any expectations. (I’m thinking there might be something in that!!) I let her show the way, I let her define the terms, and I responded.    It is freakin’ fantastic to be somebody’s favourite!! I love it!! (Of course, faced with a choice between me and a popsicle, I know beyond doubt that the popsicle would win!) Still.  Her eyes light up and somehow her whole body vibrates when I walk through the door. And you know the reverse is also true. I get great joy from being free to play, play, play with her. I love watching her personality emerge. I love seeing that her timidity in certain situations is part of her makeup, her nature.  It is not because she has been damaged in some way – it is who she is. She makes me look at myself with more compassion and understanding: perhaps what I have judged as “faults” are just who I am. Not bad or good. Not broken or defective. If I can love her so totally for who she is, (there can be no judgement attached – it is just not possible), then perhaps I can do the same for myself. More than perhaps. It is one of the gifts of being in this relationship.

As we move into 2012, I share with you a poem by the late Irish poet, John O’Donohue.

For A New Beginning

In out-of-the-way places of the heart,
Where your thoughts never think to wander,
This beginning has been quietly forming,
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire,
Feeling the emptiness growing inside you,
Noticing how you willed yourself on,
Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety
And the gray promises that sameness whispered,
Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent,
Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
And out you stepped onto new ground,
Your eyes young again with energy and dream,
A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not yet clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is at one with your life’s desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure;
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

[photo from here]

Question: In what way have I been living in the shadows in 2011? How might my life change if I came out into the light in 2012? What strengths could I discover and share if I gave up hiding my weaknesses?

Sometimes we stay hidden, fearful that others might see our wounds and blemishes. We think we’re the only ones who bear them. But I find that when I expose my weaknesses, I give others permission to expose theirs, too. There, beneath the light and in between the blemishes, we find we have strengths we never noticed before. Hiding becomes far less appealing and we’re drawn to living instead. In 2011, what were you hiding all year? What could you do to stop hiding in 2012? What treasures will you find when you step out into the light?

From me:

“Shadow hides. Light reveals.  I have been hiding in the shadows, reluctant to step out fully into the light for all kinds of reasons, most of which boil down to fear. Shadow time was a necessary time of incubation, however it has run its course. The cost now outweighs the benefits.”

That’s  what I originally wrote in answer to this question. That’s where I got stuck. It is all absolutely true, but there was something wriggling around that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.  Through a tarot reading recently, there was a lot highlighted about stepping into leadership, fully using my gifts, being fully seen. So, I thought my answer lay somewhere in the midst of that, something that I couldn’t quite articulate.

It was. And it wasn’t.

I woke up this morning with a word burning into my consciousness.

Weight.

Shit.

I do not want to think about weight. I have not wanted to think about it in 2011 or 2010 or 2009.  I do not want to Sam I Am. (And here she stomps her feet and clenches her hands and has a little hissy fit.) It has consumed me on a subconscious level for years. About 44 years to be exact – since I was 10 and not exactly the same size and shape as “everyone” else.   It has worn different disguises and manifested in different ways. And yet, it goes on and the cycle deepens and the sense of hopelessness grows. And I ignore it and ignore it and I push it further into the shadowland.

The irony that my word for the year seems to be “body” is not lost upon me.

I didn’t initially feel resistant to “body”. I knew there would eventually be some, but the idea of lying on the floor, doing a few stretches, maybe even signing up for an online yoga class…. that seemed do-able and quite necessary. Not all that threatening really. Not necessarily life-changing.

Bringing “weight” into the picture though removes all of the fantasy airbrushing and leaves all of my cracks and wrinkles and flabs and jellyrolls and sweaty pits showing. It’s where my legs rub together. It really is the shadowlands. It is where I have been hiding out.

Gaining weight and holding onto this weight has allowed me to stay stuck. It has allowed me to more fully identify with my mother’s role in the world, particularly her relationship with my father. (This is a piece I’ve only just become aware of.) It has allowed me to NOT move fully (literally and metaphorically) into the world of creation and performance and teaching. It has allowed me to live small by wearing this protective coating.

God, I wish it wasn’t New Year’s. This is such a freaking cliche! Survey says: top three resolutions are lose weight, eat healthy and get organized. The survey also says 80% of people fail at their resolutions within 3 weeks or less.

I so do not want to go down this path that I have failed at so many times before. My gut wrenches. There is no more Christmas chocolate left standing between me and what comes next. But with awareness comes responsibility. I have steadfastly avoided responsibility to myself and for myself.  I have ignored my responsibility even in the face of negative consequences. I have deferred to others and hoped that the answers would come from the outside and take care of all my worries, without my actually having to do anything about it.

The message I have received over and over during this last year (on a different, but related topic), is that it is time for  me to step out and step up. Stop looking for someone to follow. Stop looking for a mentor, a teacher,  someone to show me how it is done, someone to tell me what to do. There is no path. The road is one that I must walk myself. I have plenty of support from people in my life. I know I am supported by whatever you want to call that force that is bigger than ourselves.

I do not know what treasures I will find as I step out into the light. I can guess at a few, but I’d really like to be surprised. Ahhh, there is a welling of tears here. Deep breath.

Here’s what I do know: this is a matter of life and death. Perhaps not literally, perhaps not physically – a lot of fat people live long lives. Not necessarily good lives. But I want more.

One of my favourite quotations is by Henry Miller (a writer and lover of all things clown):

The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware.

Hiding has become far less appealing: I am drawn to living.

The time is now. I choose life.

Image from here.

DECEMBER 26 QUESTION #1
From Patti Digh
Topic: Body (Bendiness)

Question: Where have I learned and lived in 2011? In my head, in my body, or both? What would living more fully in my body in 2012 bring to me? How can I embody life and learning as I move through this liminal space between now and next? How can I more fully learn from the neck down in 2012?

In our hyper-intellectualized disembodied world, we sometimes allow technology to take the place of our bodies, don’t we? We sit, with only our arms moving as we type. We’ve even begun to distrust what our bodies say to us. Instead, we learn from the neck up, when learning from the neck down and fully embodying life will provide us with such greater riches. What do you allow yourself to really feel in your body, without the need to clarify, intellectualize, provide proof, capture with data, or block? What can you allow yourself to really feel in your body in 2012?

From Deb:

It is embarrassingly simple: be, rest, move. Something of a contradiction? So much is about finding balancing the polarities, the all or nothing. It is getting harder and harder to do any of these (be, rest, move) with consciousness. I’m a master ignorer. But it is also getting more and more imperative.The challenge of picking things up off the floor, putting on socks, playing with my niece, the pain involved in walking – these are all cries to pay attention and then to take action – sometimes that action means lying on the floor and being still; sometimes gentle stretches and breathing, sometimes more movement. Hmmmm. I think actually, that my word for the year is “body”. Yes indeed. I believe it is. And this is good.

I’d love to hear from you.

Image from here.

This was a question posed on a coaching call last week. It resonated strongly with me. In others words: “Ouch!”.

Like the rest of you, I don’t necessarily do things just to be appreciated. I don’t necessarily do things expecting a “thank you”.  I don’t anticipate the glowing, “Oh my gosh, really, you shouldn’t have. It’s so beautiful; it must have taken you forever. I’ve never seen/received/been blessed with anything as thoughtful. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” Blah, blah, blah.

I do, give, make because I want to. It gives me pleasure. It gives me satisfaction.

Yes, I have the other person in mind. I don’t offer my sister-in-law tickets to the opera.  I don’t give sugar-laden goodies to Jovanna. I don’t make butter cookies for vegan Margaret.  So, yes in that way it is also about the other person.

But I give because I want to. In some ways it is all about “me”!

How is it then, that when I give, I expect the other to respond according to my rules? This is a long-standing bug-bear in my family. One person – who shall remain nameless – is notorious for not saying “thank you”. Notorious for not remembering birthdays. Notorious for not noticing what others have done. The thing is, it’s not personal or specific to me. It is the way he operates in his world.

But, my rules say that you say “thank you”.  MY rules say you show appreciation. MY rules say you show gratitude.

But those are MY rules. And if I try to impose them on someone else, it totally takes away my joy. It steals my satisfaction. So now I’m pissed off and I no longer have the joy of having given, and that #($*@_@ person who didn’t follow my rules is oblivious. He/she is not suffering! I AM!

So, this holiday season, I will continue to work on letting go of my expectations of needing others to play by MY rules.  It’s not a matter of letting the other person off the hook. It’s a matter of letting myself off the hook: I am not hostage to rules that do not serve me. It is a gift to myself.

What gift will you give yourself this holiday season? I’d love to know.

picture from here

If you could give yourself one thing for Christmas – what would it be?

My immediate response?  An iPad 2.

With an apple green protective cover. Please.

I don’t think that’s what she meant though. And I’m sure I don’t need to explain it to you.

So, what would I give myself if I could give myself one thing?

I could go big, and say “health”. That would be good.

A bit smaller, but still big and still good would be “energy”.

I’m thinking that Meadow meant the answer would go beyond my ability to deliver.

But I’ve done that a million times or more. And while I appreciate the value of dreaming big, it doesn’t seem right for me this time around. Not delivering is a pattern I want to shine a little light on.

So what can I give myself that I can deliver?

Kindness. Compassion. Understanding.

When I cancel out on friends at the last minute, what do I want from them?  What do I need from myself? Kindness

When I break a commitment, when I do not follow through on what I said I would do, when I don’t do what I think I should be doing, what do I want from myself?

Kindness. Compassion. Understanding.

We do the best we can. Sometimes our best is not what we would like. But it is what is.

In the poem, In this passing moment, Shodo Harada Roshi writes

I vow to choose what is:
If there is cost, I choose to pay.
If there is need, I choose to give.
If there is pain, I choose to feel.
If there is sorrow, I choose to grieve.
When burning — I choose heat.
When calm — I choose peace.
When starving — I choose hunger.
When happy — I choose joy.
Whom I encounter, I choose to meet.
What I shoulder, I choose to bear.
When it is my death, I choose to die.
Where this takes me, I choose to go.
Being with what is — I respond to what is.

And that needs to be enough. Because it is.

photo from here

A friend, Darienne, passed along this duck story in another form. In looking for a version I could post here, I learned that it had been somewhat altered on its way to becoming urban legend. It is an example where the details – the who, what, when, where – don’t really matter.

What does matter is the “why”. That’s where the heart is. And this made my heart sing.

But wait there’s more!!! It happened again the next year.

This warmed my heart on a rainy grey November day. Whether you are in sunshine or snow or rain, warm or chilly, I hope it does the same for you.

Louie Schwartzberg is an award-winning cinematographer who has been “filming time-lapse flowers 24-hours a day, seven days a week, for over 35 years.”

That, all by itself, is awe-inspiring to me. But wait! There’s more!

He says, “To watch them [flowers] move is a dance I’m never going to get tired of. It fills me with wonder and it opens my heart.”

Could one ask any more from life than that? To be filled with wonder and live with an open heart is something I would aspire to. I would aspire to it if I could remember it as an aspiration. To be in that place on a daily basis is not something that comes naturally to me, and the last 2 weeks have been particularly lacking in that regard.

Sometimes my health issues make it seemingly impossible to pay attention to anything more than what I’m dealing with on a physical level. I say “seemingly” because although I do get lost in the fog of illness, I also know that the choices I make within that fog can be life-giving or life-denying. Too frequently they are the latter. As I continue to grow in awareness about these choices, I know that choosing to pay attention to gratitude and wonder are keys to living fully.

Today I give you two videos from TED that affirm both gratitude and wonder. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have. I will be taking them as medicine in times to come. (Oh, and go “full screen” on these. Definitely.)

Thank you to Oriah for pointing the way to these.

A message heard and received. Again and again. Again and again.

You are a miracle. Oh yes, you are.

I am a miracle. Oh yes, I am.

On Hiro’s blog, she asks

Free of the Not-Enoughs and Shoulds–the Have-To’s and Maybe’s and But’s–may you discover, celebrate and share the miracle that is you.

Play with me! I’d love it if you’d share, in the comments, one or two or three things about you that are miraculous. Begin by affirming this truth: “I am a miracle!” Then tell us how you express your miraculous self in your world.

I’d love to hear from you. Affirm and share your miracle you.

When I say “doing”, I mean I signed up. I made the commitment.

I paid the moolah.

I get the daily emails and the weekly voice recordings.

I’ve downloaded one section of yoga practice.

What I haven’t actually done is unroll my yoga mat and get on it. (I did find it yesterday and put it out in plain view.)

I’ve been feeling more than a bit squirmy about this. I am now into week 2 of not doing 30 Days of Yoga and I cringe when Marianne’s email shows up in my box each evening.

So, I ask, “Why?” Why have I not done what I paid for, what I committed to? And why do I squirm?

The answer, or I should say, answers, have shown themselves over the past few days.

There are some truly practical reasons, the main one being sleep. My system cannot be relied upon to send me into dream land at a consistent time. On one night, ten o’clock is perfect, and my ideal.  Last night, it was around 4 am. (Of course with daylight savings, it was really only 3 am!! Yes, I too got an extra hour of sleep. Sort of.)

For obvious reasons then, I find it difficult to plan my day. I find it difficult to… (she stops here, searching desperately for something to insert that does not sound like an excuse, does not make her sound pathetic, does not make her feel like a loser. She fails.)

Really. Come on. I’m not asking myself to train for the New York Marathon. I’m not even asking myself to get dressed. I’m just asking myself to lie down on the floor and breathe for 10 minutes. I do not “have” to even do any real yoga. Breathing is enough. Marianne says so. She says even 5 minutes is enough.  Showing up is enough. Being is enough.

Ahhh-hem. That is at least part of it. That being business. That showing up business.

Because, after all, who am I showing up for?

You? Well, if it were you, then I would almost certainly show up. Or at least I would really, really try. You know that, don’t you? I make a promise to you? I keep it. I keep my commitment.

I make a promise to myself? It quickly and “easily” goes by the wayside.

In my life, showing up for myself is absolutely the hardest thing for me to do.  Show up when there isn’t homework or something to make me accountable to someone else. Show up when there isn’t a class or a call-in or a check-in, all of which involve someone else. Show up when there is just me. Face to face with myself.

By not showing up, I  let myself down. I’m quite used to that.

There is a shift though. The very fact that I notice this, and that it bothers me, is a shift. Hey!! I. don’t. like. letting myself down! I don’t like it any more than when I let you down. That nagging voice in my head (Jen Louden calls them “the hounds”) is shifting from beating myself up to saying, “That’s sad, Deb. That’s so sad, sweetie.” There’s compassion in that voice. There is kindness. There’s a soft, cozy blanket of comfort being pulled around my shoulders as I write this. It is okay. Being able to notice, instead of ignore, is a big step.

So, today, I am grateful for noticing. For feeling sad about letting myself down.

What does this have to do with love?

Everything. Simply everything.