Archive for December, 2009

A Blessed Mess

December 28, 2009
I wasn’t going to write this week. I’ve been in a bad way and wanted to hide. I didn’t want to dump my downward spiral on you, especially at the holidays. Then I remembered a friend saying she liked that I didn’t have it all together because it gave her permission to not have it all together either.
 
So here you go, Merry Christmas! You hereby have permission to be a total mess!
 
I’ve been feeling like Ally McBeal in a dream she once had where a surgeon cracks open her chest, looks into the cavity at her scar-covered heart and says, “This heart’s been broken! This heart’s been broken a thousand times!”  
 
Broken with regret, healed by forgiveness; broken with disappointment, healed by acceptance; broken with impatience, healed by trust. Does it ever stop? I think only when we’re six feet under.
 
Now, dear reader, beware, for what I’m about to admit, I would be kicked out of every workshop I’ve ever taken, flunked by every coach I’ve ever worked with, and deemed a prime “DON’T” in every self-help book I’ve ever read. For this is the strategy I decided to take on Christmas:
In order to take a break from heartache, I will no longer continue to hope that my dearest dreams are going to come true someday. Yes, they may still be possible, yet with all the time, money, and complete mind, body and soul energy I’ve put into creating my dreams, my heart is worn out and it just doesn’t seem up to me any way. 
 
And wouldn’t you know that despite this valiant, multi-day effort at negativity, self-pity and resignation, a new kind of hope is being born in me. Hope that when I finally let go of trying to make it happen, I’ll be shown what I’m really meant to experience, express and give in this lifetime. Hope that when I take a break from trying to get it right, I’ll get to just be me and let the chips fall where they may. They may just be beautiful.

Last night I listened to a Rob Bell sermon on those who hunger. In it he conveys that we are blessed IN the confusion, screw-ups and pain of our lives, not just when we finally “get it all together.”
 
I hope it is not the case, but if your heart is hurting this holiday season and your dreams are taking a whole lot longer than you’d like, I hope you’ll hang in there and let the ache transform you.
 
The mess is blessed. It’s ok to be here. Something good is happening.

Under the Tinsel

December 21, 2009

I confess… I didn’t get a Christmas tree. I intended to on Saturday, but got snowed in. So instead, I wrapped lights around my ZZ plant (Zamioculcas Zamiifolia to be exact!) The lights are my favorite part anyway. I love Christmas; I love Christmas trees; and I love all of my ornaments and each of their stories, yet something in me is feeling drawn to a more simple expression this year.

I want to feel what’s underneath the tinsel of Christmas. The quieter, more contemplative side. I don’t have children of my own yet, so it’s easier to be outside the rush of those who are anxious to “do Santa” for their little ones and to do it perfectly.

When I hear people totally stressed about the holiday, I have to check myself. Where am I rushing to “do something” and do it “right” – something that is meant to be so fun and beautiful? My life! I’ve constructed such a huge tree decorated with all my hopes and dreams and strewn with all my regrets, mistakes, successes and gifts. Constantly trying to avoid doing something wrong and causing the whole thing to come crashing down.

So what am I without all my ornamentation? Without the layered on tinsel of being this, becoming that, giving this, and wanting that? What’s left at the core? What is it that the light of my eyes illuminates?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for sparkly earrings, lip gloss and world-saving aspirations yet only after being sure of what’s underneath. What’s real about me?

What’s real about you? Who are you underneath your tinsel? I want to know you. Not the self-critical you who is always trying to do it better or perfectly. I want to know the pure, flawed, adorable you.

In that place, there is no worry about the tree crashing. There is no care of whether the neighbors have a bigger Santa in the yard. There’s just us. And love.

Unadorned. Lit up from the inside.

How would you love if…

December 14, 2009

Yesterday was the first anniversary of my father’s death. Those who have been through the loss of a loved one (or perhaps a cherished pet) know that in the last few weeks, days and minutes, you feel completely powerless. There is nothing you can do to keep them here and little you can do to ease their suffering… except to love. Unabashedly and for once, unconditionally.
 
It’s of course quite human that it takes death to lead us to that purest and simplest of all acts.
 
Gone are the all the years of trying to get your parent, sibling or dog to do what you want and to be in some way different than how they are. All those “I wish you would…’s” don’t matter anymore. When you realize that the unfathomable is near, love is all that’s left. It’s effortless then.
 
Yet here we are, back on Earth, in the middle of the holidays. Sometimes, even though it’s what this season is about, pure love isn’t so easy when the potential for family dinner table chaos is just around the corner.  We dread being off center, away from our routine and plunged into old dynamics we thought we’d outgrown. It is easy then to begin focusing on the shortcomings of our loved ones. Easy, when we think they’ll be around forever. 
 
This morning in yoga I thought, “How I would love someone if he or she were holy?” As if he were perfect just as he is. As if I were in complete awe of his presence and felt deep respect for what he had come here to be and to do. There would be no expectation. No holding on.  No tweaking.
 
And what would it be like to love as if I were holy. I imagined that I would look upon this person with an open heart, compassion for her soul and genuine yearning for her happiness. I believe it would be a feeling of unconditional love. 
 
The thing is, we are holy. Maybe not saint like and certainly not perfect, but I believe we do have a bit (more than a bit) of the holy inside us. I believe it is possible to love like that. Not consistently or flawlessly mind you, and definitely not without commitment and practice.
 
If you try it – holding someone who really matters to you as if he or she were holy – I bet you will feel it. Even for just a fleeting moment.
 
For me it is most possible to do when I first take time to come home to myself, to the place that is really and deeply me. In this place, I don’t need someone else to be a certain way so that I can feel whole, safe or at peace. I am already whole, already safe and I’ve created my own peace.
 
When the holidays get busy and the party wine starts flowing, feeling grounded in ourselves may take a bit more attention and effort – perhaps a slightly longer workout or a few more minutes of meditation. Our growing ability to love another unconditionally and to be witness to their holiness is worth it. 
 
I invite you to give this gift this year to those you love. You never know how many more chances you’ll have.

The Year of Love!

December 6, 2009

When my sister and her husband were starting to create their family, she declared to him, “This is going to be the year of sex!” (It worked!)

So, on my 41st birthday, I’m declaring that the year ahead is going to be the year of LOVE! And since love always works (even in those mysterious ways that we don’t quite understand at the time), I know it’s going to be a super-powered, super-fun, super-fabulous year!

I commit to you today that I will make good on my declaration by: contributing love to my community by sharing what I have… discovering and creating love through my work in myriad forms… loving my body and taking care of my heart… expressing selfless love for and experiencing fabulous love with a man (whoever he may be!)… and channeling love to my family and friends through prayer, encouragement, laughter and acceptance.

In yoga this morning, my teacher Kyra read a poignant story* about Mother Teresa’s choice to start serving the West and her reasoning that while we may not be starving for actual bread on any comparable level to the people of Calcutta or Bombay, we are starving for the spiritual food of love.

When she received the Nobel Prize, Mother Teresa was asked, “What can we do to promote world peace?” She answered, “Go home and love your family.”

So, today, this little missive will be shorter than usual because a) love – generating it within yourself and sharing it with others – is all you need, and b) I have to go get a birthday pedicure (lovin’ my toes!)

xo for your own coming year!