emotions

*Perhaps the best thing I’ve read about the connection between the mind and the body. EVER.
Hands down!
I know Liz did the wise thing and cautioned everyone regarding this method—but I say DO IT!
DO TRY THIS AT HOME!
What have you got to lose?

I advise the people who ask me, to talk to their body. Make friends,with it. It doesn’t matter if it’s weight, a “bad” knee or cancer. Your body is NOT your enemy you guys, it’s your ally and it wants to partner with you to achieve balance and health so you can both lead the best life ever!
Carry on to health,
xox

“PERHAPS I AM STRONGER THAN I THINK” — Thomas Merton

Dear Friends-
I’ve spent the last eleven days hiking in the Italian Alps.

And that is a sentence that — 15 years ago — I would never have imagined myself ever writing.

I used to have a bad knee. It started during my divorce, when every part of me was falling apart — head to toe, inside and out. But my left knee was the worst of it. I twisted it one day, and it was never the same again. I couldn’t even walk up a flight of stairs without pain. At the time I went to see a doctor about it, who said simply, “Well, that’s why they call it getting older, and not getting younger.” (Thanks, doc.)

For years, I babied my knee. I identified myself as someone whose knees were “bad”, the way certain dogs and neighborhoods are called “bad”. If I took a yoga class, and the teacher asked if anyone had any physical limitations, I dutifully raised my hand and explained that I had a bad knee. I was given special movements, and told to be extra careful. Every new doctor was told about my bad knee. My friends knew about my bad knee. I iced it and heated it and put braces on it and took tons of ibuprofen and kept my range of motion limited because of it. I visited all kinds of professionals — traditional and alternative, alike.
But my knee never stopped hurting.
Until 5 years ago.

Now listen — before I go on here, please don’t do anything stupid to your body because of what I’m about to say, OK? I’m not a medical professional, and you must be a wise steward of your own lovely physical being.

But here is what happened to me.

One day — and it did happen suddenly, one day — about five years ago, I asked my knee what it wanted from me.
I literally spoke to it. I got very quiet, and very sleepy, and I said, “Tell me what you need from me, dear knee. I’m listening. I’ll do whatever you say. Surgery? A replacement? More gentle care? More acupuncture? A change of diet? Reiki? Just give me the word.”

Then I got very quiet, and my knee told me what it wanted. I heard the answer in the depths of my mind, as clear as day. It said, “GO FASTER.”

Go faster, said my knee. Go running. Go climbing. Go dancing. Use me. Jump up and down on me. I am a KNEE. There is absolutely nothing wrong with me. I am wondrously designed, said my knee. I am not a weak point, but a strong one. I am part of your body, and I want to be used. I am not a symbol of your divorce. I am not a sign of aging. I am not a problem. Don’t baby me. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being treated like a Victorian invalid lady who has to take to her bed because of her fainting spells. I am not weak. Stop this. Please, please, please — said my “bad” knee to me — please stop using me as an expression of your weakness, fear, and emotional fragility. Please talk to your therapist about whatever troubles are ongoing in your mind, but don’t blame for everything. Please just trust me. Please just use me as I was designed. Use me as a freaking KNEE.

The next day — hand to God — I went running for three miles and I was fine. I’ve been fine ever since.
Again — PLEASE don’t go and do anything physically stupid to yourselves because of this story. I can barely explain it myself — how suddenly my “bad” knee was no longer bad. I have never been able to speak to a body part so clearly again, and I know it seems crazy that it happened at all.
But it happened.

There was pain (remember — that was my “divorce knee”) and then I was finally ready to put the pain away, and to stop using my knee as a pain-memorial.

All I know is this — that pain is a complicated and multi-layered force. Nobody experiences pain the same way, which is why it’s so difficult to treat. Some of our pain abides in the body, and some of it abides in the mind, and some of it abides in our histories. As pain moves through us, it passes through what scientists call “amplification centers” in our beings. Our emotions are amplification centers. our fear is an amplification center. Our imaginations are amplification centers. Our anger, too. All of these parts of ourselves amplify the pain in our mind, and sometimes commit to that pain fully — forever.

I had a friend once who injured her back during a hard time in her life, and it didn’t recover for years. One day, a doctor finally asked her, “What was the first thing you thought, when you felt your back go out?”
My friend said, “I thought, ‘This is going to hurt me for the rest of my life”.
The doctor, very kindly, said, “Maybe it’s time for you to stop thinking that.”
Her healing began there.

I believe that I did hurt my knee 15 years ago — but mildly, temporarily, and not in a way that it needed to cause me pain for a decade. I believe that my “bad” knee lived on inside my mind, not in my knee itself. When pain abides in the mind, it does not mean you are crazy, or that the pain is any less “real”. Trust me, my knee HURT. It just means that pain is living on within your body because — for some reason — it must. Because you are not done suffering. Because I was in heart-pain for ten years, and that pain needed a location. My poor knee took the pain for me. Until it didn’t want to any more.
Anyhow — what if you are stronger than you think?

I am all for people treating themselves with gentle loving care (and maybe part of my recovery from emotional pain was all about focusing on treating my knee like a poor, suffering baby — so that I could take care of myself with kindness at some level. Maybe that helped me to heal my heart.) But what if there are parts of your body that don’t want to be babied forever?

What if every single part of us longs to be USED?

What if our bodies long to be freed from the past, so that they can move as they were designed to move?

What if our hearts long to love?

What if our minds long to be creative?

What if our spirits just want everything to be forgiven?

What if your knee wants you to climb a mountain, to show you how powerful you actually are?

Wouldn’t that be crazy?

Wouldn’t that be freaking wild?

Wouldn’t that fill you with so much joy, you feel that your heart may burst from it?

ONWARD,
LG

http://www.elizabethgilbert.com

So…
I found this handy-dandy chart online and then I immediately lost the next two hours looking at the different energy centers—and self diagnosing.

Oh… anger is stored there…interesting…that explains SO much.

That old pit in the stomach. Fear. I knew that.

Shoulder and neck pain? Yeah, me too, like every day of my life. Carrying the weight of the world?
Hey! Me too! Wait a minute, If I’m carrying the world’s weight—and you are too—why does mine feel so freaking heavy?

I remember certain Yoga classes where a pose or a stretch would send me into an emotional tailspin, unleashing the Kraken and freeing up all the pent-up junk that had taken up residence inside my hips, torso and thighs. I would always feel a hundred percent better after class, a good cry, and an Epsom salt bath.

Yoga is great if you’re looking to release stored emotions. So is exercise. And dance. Anything that moves the body.

Rolfing is good too. Rolfing is a very deep tissue massage, you know, the kind that hurts so good. I don’t ever think I’ve left a Rolfing session without crying—partly from the pain, and partly due to the deep emotional release it triggers.

And that’s the thing you guys. You WANT to release those stored emotions, otherwise there’s a very good chance they’ll make you sick.

So get out there! Dance! Do some yoga! Walk in nature! Release! Release! Release!

Okay, I’m off to get a shoulder massage. I need to set the weight of the world down, just for a little while.

Carry on,
xox

This is from last summer but I like it — which is rare.
Happy Friday!
xox

At the center of your being you have the answer; you know who you are, and what you want
~ Lao Tzu

I can remember doing this exercise in one of Diana’s meditation workshops years ago after I had read about it in a book from my long distant past (please don’t ask me which one, that I can’t remember) I just remember being gobsmacked over the realization that the cells of my body may collectively know more than my brain, how I actually feel about things – so we tried it.

We being the women in the Wednesday group, and no men, you don’t need a uterus to try this exercise although it IS about observing the reaction your body has to certain words.

As a matter of fact one of my male friends says his butt puckers up.
Ha! I’ve got ya now…….keep reading, you’ll understand in a minute.

Words carry energy, on that we all agree, correcto?

Certain words can either feel expansive or contracting.

Expansive words/energy have to do with keeping your heart open, being receptive, being vulnerable.
Arms uncrossed, face and upper body open.

Contracting words/energy are all about fear, suppression, closing the gate, hoisting up the drawbridge and filling the moat with water – and a dragon.
Gathering in, armoring up and closing down.

Try this out, it’s visceral, the change may be subtle, but you will feel SOMETHING,
And that feeling is what you want to be on the lookout for.
Here goes. Say the word aloud:

Cancer
Money
Vacation
Commitment
Puppy
Deadline
Hospital
I Love you
Snake
Failure
Hate
I’m proud of you
Idiot

Did you feel it, that very subtle, or not so subtle opening and closing reaction as your body feeeeeeeels the energy of each word?

If you’re a doctor the word hospital probably won’t trigger you negatively, although, if someone says to you: They had to rush Timmy to the hospital!
I doubt you’ll feel nothing.

The same thing with money. It can have a very expansive feeling for some, and make others want to jump off a bridge.
That word has felt different ways to me at different times in my life, same word, just different energy.

Puppy is a mixed word for me nowadays also. 😉

Snakes? Snakes make me shiver. ‘Nuf said.

Remember: Language is a powerful thing, it can harm people as efficiently as a weapon, or raise someone’s soul to new heights, so be careful – really.

It can also give you the insight you need when your mind is chewing on a problem like a dog with a bone.

Say the word or words that coincide with what you’re thinking about out loud, and see how it feels in your body. Voila! There’s your answer.

I quit
I’m pregnant
Marry me
Let’s move
I’m leaving
I’m sorry

It’s a good one, I know!
Keep practicing and you’ll get better and better at figuring out how you REALLY feel about things.

If you feel inclined to comment, please do below. Remember the tribe learns a lot when you share from the heart.

Much love,
xox

Hey Guys,
With the current, crazy, clean out the fridge of the smelly stuff in the waaaaay back energy out there; there is some residual pain coming up.
Or is it new pain?
Doesn’t matter. Pain is pain and it hurts like hell.

This is a great essay by Danielle LaPorte (she’s the boss) about this very subject. It is direct and to the point (just like we count on Danielle to be) no butterflies or rainbows — just truth.
I think you guys can handle that.
Love you BIG,
xox

Take it away Danielle:

Current Pain or Departing Pain? How to access your agony.

There is the pain you feel because it’s deep in your being, in real-time, working on you.

Current Pain and Departing Pain.

Current pain is the hurt you’re carrying with you today. It’s in the vicinity of your core. It doesn’t matter when the pain was inflicted — a few days ago in a meeting, or ongoingly in the way your partner withholds, or by a past childhood trauma. Lingering or acute, if it’s affecting you now — if you’re still healing, it’s real time pain.

Departing pain is, as it suggests, on it’s way out. It’s your current pain transforming, loosening, lifting. And Lord have mercy, this is just what you want to have happen — for the pain to leave you.

Except… departing pain isn’t any lighter or easier as it leaves your system. In fact, on it’s way out, departing pain can be wretched. It’s like the last few heaves of getting poison out of your system. Just when you thought you’d purged it all, your body lurches with one more hurl to make sure the toxins are good an’ gone. That last lurch can catch you off guard. Where did that come from? And it’s … extra painful.

Assessing your pain

So here’s what to do when you’re in pain: Identify if you’re in Current Pain or Departing Pain. Current pain says: I’m dealing with the pain. This pain needs my attention. Departing pain says: I’ve learned all I can from this pain. I’m letting go. This pain is leaving me.

Do you need more healing time?

Current pain needs time — a few weeks… a few decades, such is life. It requires tears and therapeutic conversations, pilgrimages and fires. It’s the spirit’s creative tension. It’s the recovery process we’re in. It’s what we’re managing to varying degrees of stifling darkness to occasionally triggered sadness.

Departing pain comes after you’ve fully felt the current pain. Let me say that another way: The pain starts to lift after you’ve gone through it. Let me put that differently: Once you’ve gone down with the pain, examined it, smelled it, talked to it, squeezed it, then it’s done it’s job and it’s ready to fully transform. One more time: Feel it to free it.

Are you ready? (Get ready because it’s going to hurt more. But it’s good.)

Let’s say you’ve done the work. You’ve felt that pain (you’re amazing and courageous). You learned so much from that pain. You’re so damn DONE with that pain. You’re feeling so free, so present, so moved on and then…WHAM. More of the SAME pain. What the hell?! Didn’t you work through this already? You were doing so well and then you want to curl up in a ball or break something. Isn’t this over with yet? (Yes, almost.)

Departing pain tends to catch you off guard. Which makes you get all judgey with yourself because you’ve come so far. Expansion/contraction. Expansion/contraction.

If you’re in Current pain over something, you’re going to keep doing your healing work. Keep calm and call your shaman. You can do this.

Or if you’re in Departing Pain, here’s what you’re going to do: You’re going to not judge yourself for being pathetic. You’re going to feel the pain like a champ. And you’re going to start making celebration plans because you are crossing the finish line. The pain is leaving! It’s never going to be this bad again!

When you’re in pain, you have to feel it to free it.

Take heart! The final round of agony is a purification process.tweet It’s not wounding you deeper, it’s cleaning you as it says goodbye. You’re not stuck, you’re about to fly — higher than ever.
Please be encouraging. We all need more of it. Forward this piece to someone who is in the throes.

All Love,
Danielle

www.daniellelaporte.com

Mindfulness is “the intentional, accepting and non-judgemental focus of one’s attention on the emotions, thoughts and sensations occurring in the present moment”, which can be trained by meditational practices derived from Buddhist anapanasati.

So let me get this straight, these little kids have figured out what has taken me YEARS to grasp?

I want to feel bad about myself…that late bloomer thing and all…but I can’t get past the exhilaration.

What an incredible future lies in store for the world if this catches on.

What amazing students they’ll be;

What incredible employees and business owners;

Imagine the children they’ll raise!

You guys, this is getting so good.

Carry on — mindfully,

xox

You know that phenomenon that occurs when you spill red wine? How it is attracted to anything residing in the white color palette?

And even though it was only half a glass (okay maybe 3/4 of a glass – it was shitty day) the spillage appears to be more like an entire bottle and requires four rolls of paper towels to clean up.

You familiar with that scenario?

One glass of wine that has now ruined:
1) Your new silk and linen blend light beige pants that you’re wearing for the first time.

2) The white flokati rug that has the nerve to sit under your friend’s coffee table. (Who has white rugs?)

3) Your reputation as someone who can balance a glass of wine, a cocktail napkin, eat some kind of tartlet stuffed with cheesy goodness — and tell a funny story, without spilling a single drop.

What about a drop of black dye in a cup of water?
It swirls and undulates, acting as if it’s alive as it permeates every molecule.

Until in a matter of seconds it appears as if by magic that the entire contents of the cup had turned the color of midnight.

A single drop.
An entire glass.
Saturation.

When I wake up in the mornings, even before I get out of bed, I practice gratitude.

I’m thankful that I had the good fortune to wake up, that I can smell coffee in the other room, and that I don’t have to be woken up by the shrill ringing of an alarm.

I do that to get myself into a good feeling place. To keep my imaginary glass of water clear. It makes for a smoother, better day all around.

Most days I can stay there on pretty solid footing.

Other days I can’t make it to the bathroom without the spilled wine worries invading my thoughts; staining everything I think.

Recently, it seems as if black ink has been saturating me right as I come to consciousness. I think one nice thought and I get hijacked. BLAMO!

Black ink in the form of a troubling thought is swirling in my head as I try to find my balance; it’s reminding me of something awful, making gratitude the boulder I’m now struggling to push up the mountain of my mind.

If it takes hold I’m screwed. Covers over the head, might as well go back to sleep and reset, kind of screwed.

You all know how that goes. Once the wine or the ink stains your brain, once it permeates the entire glass of water, it is such an effort to escape –– it can ruin a whole day.

Then I remembered what my husband told me he was doing. Instead of letting an awful thought take hold and then attempting to play catch-up all day; he just kept his gratitude driven thinking going 24/7.

It took work but he was up to the challenge. The alternative was unacceptable –– it felt like hell.

“You can’t process thoughts from opposite parts of the brain at the same time.” He reminded me. “It’s impossible! Try being sad and grateful at the same time. Or happy and anxious. Love or hate. You just can’t do it. So I just drive around these days, ALL day –– feeling appreciation and gratitude. It keeps my thoughts from going dark”

He was right! (Damn, I hate when he’s right – insert forehead slap here) but what he’s doing is SO much easier than trying to turn your emotional ship around after its run aground.

You have the choice to pick a better thought. You do. I challenge you to try it.

Don’t get me wrong, some days are going to be a fight.
A fucking fist fight street brawl.

It will feel like using a tweezers and a magnifying glass to look for a needle of happiness inside of a haystack of sad.

But don’t give up. I know you; you won’t. You’re scrappy like me.

Feeling grateful, or something above despair, even in the shit times, is like those drops they give you to take to the Amazon to clear the water of all those swimming amoebas that’ll kill ya.

You swirl it around for a couple of minutes and viola! Your cup is full of crystal clear drinking water.

Let gratitude clear your glass of water. If gratitude is too far of a reach try a happy place moment.

I go to a beach on Maui on a seventy-two degree day, with zero wind, perfect rolling waves, warm water and my twenty-five year old body…sadness, at a least for a few minutes – out of sight, out of mind.

It’s a start, and SO much better than an entire day of feeling bad.

That’s all.

Carry on,
xox

Saturday I went against my better judgment, because I was gobsmacked, and I spoke up.

It’s not as if the Universe hadn’t given me a bazillion, (okay, four) chances to do it in the past. It just never felt right before and it’s not my nature.

Now, as you know, there’s not a lot that I would consider “against my nature”, but going up to a celebrity or public figure just isn’t my thing. Maybe because I dealt with celebrities when I was a jeweler and I’ve witnessed how even the most benign interaction can go off the rails.

Leave them alone, they know they’re awesome, keep walking, that’s it, look away.

Now, when I get famous and Meryl Steep is playing me in the movie of my life, PLEASE don’t hesitate to come up and tell me you love me. I’m someone who cannot hear that enough, let’s just get that straight right here and now.
Anyway…

There is a woman who works at the right hand of a major public figure.
As I watched a documentary series a few years back, about that public person and this woman, her Executive Everything, caught my eye. She really lit up for me. I watched how she conducted herself in meetings, her humor, creativity, smarts and general awesomeness really marked me. She was professional, yet approachable. She clearly adores said public figure, so she moves heaven and earth to make sure everything they want comes to pass.

She is a force to be reckoned with and I find her extraordinary.

Over the last few years it just so happens she has crossed my path, and into the orbit of my ordinary life.
Kind of feels like a Universal tease, right?

I see her in the airport, or in a restaurant, or get a seat a couple of rows behind her on a plane. Numerous times.

I always squeal when it happens and tug at my husband’s shirt.
There she is again, can you believe it!?
But I never approach her. I want to respect her privacy I suppose. Truthfully, I’m afraid I’ll get all tongue-tied and fan-girl stupid like I did with Liz Gilbert. AWKWARD…

So I relish the moment and then go on with my life without even a hello.

Saturday I went with a friend to see Abraham. I try to go whenever he/she/they’re in town. I have for over twenty years. Www.abrahamhicks.com

By the time we arrived all the prime real estate in the front by the stage was spoken for, so we literally walked the room until we decided two seats to the right of center would be just fine. As I arranged all my “stuff”, I looked to my left to see who I’d be sharing the next four hours with and…there she was, the extraordinary one!

“Oh my God, it’s you!” I blurted out loud.
Apparently my editing reflex shut down due to the close proximity of greatness. The look on her startled face said: Do I know you?
There she was, next to me at Abe, I couldn’t be stopped.

“You don’t understand – I see you everywhere, and I never say anything, because I don’t want to bother you, but look at this, here you are, right next to me – at Abraham of all places, ha, go figure!”

It was an avalanche of emotions too powerful to be held back any longer. I stuck out my hand, “I’m Janet, so great to finally get a chance to meet you.” Or at least I’m pretty sure that’s what I said. I could feel my mouth moving and I know words were coming out, but I was hovering out-of-body, somewhere up near the ceiling.

Her friend came back from his errand and interrupted our little meet and greet, THANKFULLY.
Otherwise, I think I’d still be there gushing away.
She was as gracious as can be,(of course she was) and I composed myself enough to come down off the ceiling and take my seat.

Let me just say this: I LOVE when famous people, or famous adjacent people (friend, spouse, etc.) are down to earth, and normal. Don’t you? She couldn’t have been kinder.

I LOVE that the Universe conspired to surprise me with a visit from “her” in the MOST unlikely of situations.

I LOVE that my authentic joy overrode my “cool”. FINALLY!

And most of all I love that I got to tell her at the end of the day, when I had recovered my wits enough to pull down my freak flag – that I felt she was extraordinary.

She took it in and we hugged.

Because honestly, what was I ever afraid of? Who doesn’t want to hear that? Even from some crazy lady at Abraham?

Carry on,
Xox

I had coffee with a friend this week and she mentioned the blog, Hala! and God bless her.

She was particularly triggered by the post I wrote about paying people compliments, and the fact that we can be pretty stingy with our admiration.

“You know why I don’t get compliments?” she asked me, apparently not expecting an answer because she didn’t let me get a word in edgewise.

“Because I deflect them. I’m like a superhero with a shield. They make me so Goddamn uncomfortable that my face and chest get bright red, and I either start laughing or I tell the person to shut up.”

Did I hear that right? I’d seen her blush, maybe even giggle, but the shut up part…
She could tell by the expression on my face that her statement needed further explanation.

“I just did it the other day, the guy at the car wash complimented my choice of vehicle and I ran away. Like a nine-year old. But before I did, I told him to shut up. It was like a reflex, a hit and run, I just blurted it out…Shut Up!” she was clearly mortified, but on a roll.

“Hey, you have nice eyes. Shut up! Fuck you, Perv!” Now she was acting it out, with hand gestures and everything.

“Nice job on that report. Shut up! Asshole! Raise your bar! You need higher standards!

Oh My God whats wrong with me? It’s like I have Compliments Tourette’s.”

We were both laughing, yet at the same time I realized that what she does is more common than we’d all like to admit.

Why can’t we take a compliment gracefully? The key word here being: grace.

I used to be terrible at it too. I’d look at my feet and mumble a very insincere thank you, when all I wanted was for the perpetrator of the abomination to disappear. Insecurity I suppose. Feeling unworthy? You betcha.

Back in the day, people used to compliment me on my big, white teeth, (now thanks to Crest White Strips they are a dime dozen) and it made me cringe. I had done NOTHING whatsoever to earn those teeth. Okay, maybe worn braces and brushed, but honestly, they were just the luck of the draw. Like winning at Poker. So it never felt like it was right to say thank you.
Now I do. I jump at the chance. Sure, God and my parents gave me great teeth, but I’ve maintained them and appreciated them EVERYDAY. Plus after fifty you’re just so grateful when someone says anything without prefacing it with Ma’am.

These days I also chase that good feeling you get when you give a compliment.
Like an addict with a drug.
I give out compliments like Tic Tacs. Because people deserve them. AND it gets me high.
Just saying’.

“Oh but wait” she warned, holding her palm up to face me, “It gets worse. If you don’t hate me already, you will after this!”

“Well Okay – Don’t leave a sister hanging – spill it!” I was playing along with her game of ‘true confessions’.

“I don’t pay ANYONE a compliment, doesn’t matter what they did, even if I’m thinking it, I don’t say it because I want to save them the humiliation that I feel.
That’s fucked up…right?”

I wouldn’t dare judge her. That made perfect sense to me and it actually possessed more altruistic overtones than not wanting to make a fool of yourself, which was the most common reason I used to come up with for not complimenting the people who deserved them.

We had a laugh and a damn good cup of coffee. But it really got me to thinking…

What do you guys think about this?
Are you like my friend? Is it all just too humiliating for words?
Does that humiliation override how good it feels to give or get a compliment? Or have you become so grateful, like me, when someone throws one your way that you can’t say thank you fast enough?
Have you developed grace or are you still searching for it, like my friend? How did it happen for you?

I’m curious. Tell me in the comments.

xox

The Sound Of Silence
-By Simon and Garfunkel

“Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted
In my brain still remains
Within the sound of silence.”

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed Monday.

I went to sleep in lovely Los Angeles, California and woke up on the dark side of the moon.
It was desolate, deplete of oxygen, and I found myself suffocating in sadness.

I had nightmares all night long, you know the ones. You can’t for the life of you remember anything except how awful they left you feeling upon awakening.
A pit in your stomach, a heart full of dread and a bitter aftertaste as a parting gift.

The dogs are fine, our health is good, the weekend was unremarkable…

So what gives?
There was no apparent reason to feel such malaise, but I have the kind of mind that searches for a reason, so I spent an hour digging up the corpses of buried woes.
It’s the opposite of a gratitude list.
It reminded me of a mutant case of PMS on steroids.
I’m sure you can relate.

Starting with Woe Number 378:
Why can’t I lose that stubborn twenty pounds so that I can be the weight I was MY WHOLE LIFE – until I turned fifty? There is not a bag of potato chips big enough to sooth me. Could it be because I eat the same amount of food that my 6’4″ – 250 pound husband does. Sometimes more? Nah. I didn’t think so.

Number 217
God dammit, some days I’m so God damn old.
I wrote the previous post about it. Hey, maybe that’s what sent me off the deep end.

BTW – I couldn’t write on Monday – just wasn’t feelin’ it. I couldn’t have found an inspirational thing to say to you if you’d have paid me a million dollars. Seriously.
Not sure today is any better, but misery loves company, so I thought I’d share.

I function at a pretty high happiness level, so this felt like shit and I was desperate to feel better.

Sat down to meditate…it felt like the express elevator into the abyss, so I took a pass.

I took off on my power walk like I always do in the mornings. It helps balance me.
That’s when I listen to all the inspirational talks I have on my phone. It sets the mood for the day, and usually when I get back – I’m pumped! AND I’ve accomplished the 10,000 steps needed to keep a flat “writer’s ass” at bay.

Every step from that point on is gravy. Even the ones to the fridge. It’s the law.

But Monday I was so low that the walk only got me to a place where I could suppress the ugly cry.
Tears were right at the surface.
Big ones. Unspecific but insistent, with sobbing and snot and oy, oy, oy-ing.

Number 442
The boxer-shark-puppy has dug up half the back lawn and it is a continuous mud pit. The dried mud is everywhere, paw prints, nose prints, butt prints, you name it; to the point where I’ve stopped sweeping or washing or hosing the outside living area. We all just sit in the filth.
She has also become extremely destructive, eating our plantation shutters, chairs, and a carefully curated list of items she knows I really love.

When I returned from my calming, centering, inspirational walk, the puppy had breached the defensive fort my husband had built to keep her away from the shutters, finding an opening and then dropping in from above, like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible.
The old dog just watched while she gnawed a shutter-slat into a toothpick.

So I had to beat my dog. Number 12.
There came the tears. I hate training and punishment. I cried my head off – she filed her nails and popped her gum like the brat she is. (Relax – it’s one of those flimsy little coupon flyers wrapped in a plastic bag, so it sounds worse that it feels – followed by a time-out in a small bathroom.)

At noon I recovered enough to go help a friend brainstorm some work stuff, which focused my mind and actually felt really good. As I walked up the driveway upon my return, a light rain was falling. I was at once reminded of the puppy destruction displayed in the side window, the fact that our gutters are filled with leaves and our trim needs paint along with the pit of impending mud in the back.

That acted like a one way ticket straight back to hell.

Which led to the “Come to Jesus” talk last night.

Not the puppy and I – me and my husband.
I think he was a little scared of me in my melancholy state. Probably because I started with the declarative statement: “I know I’m a piece of work right now, and you love me but you’re probably not in love with me – anyway…”
Looking at me like you do a wild beast that’s about to rip you to shreds, he backed away, shaking his head, and silently (that silent part is SO smart) got the crate back down from the attic so that the puppy will live to see another day, and we can salvage some window coverings and continue to sit on chairs with legs.

Then I watched “When Harry Met Sally” to remember how to smile, and went to bed.

Some days are beyond salvaging.

All this to say: Holy Shit! I have horrible days. I do!

Dark side of the moon, sounds of silence, I can’t meditate, so don’t ask me to, beat the dog, see every flaw, cry baby, demon possessed, post menopause PMS, wild beast, unreasonable, pick a fight, non-salvageable days.

Here’s praying today’s a better day.

Dear God (or Source or Whomever),
Every day is a gift.
Filled with potential.
Please don’t let me spend another day in hell.
I won’t call the day wasted, even though it sure felt like it.
I’ll just consider it part of the ebb and flow of life.
It will make me appreciate the good days that much more.

…Oh, that’s sneaky God. That thing you do.

Water never tastes as good as when you’re really thirsty.
Food never tastes better than when you’re famished.
It never feels as good to sleep as when you’re exhausted.

Okay.
I get it.
Wise guy.

Xox

Hi Loves,
Holy Moly…
Transformation is messy, and difficult and at times infuriating! Don’t loose hope. Don’t throw in the towel at the 11th hour.

Remember, before the caterpillar’s transformation into the beautiful butterfly is complete – it is literally soup.

Don’t open the chrysalis before you’re cooked.
Don’t take score too soon.

We are ALL in the process of transformation, the journey from one point to the next spanning our entire lives. You WILL get to your destination – you WILL metamorphose, of that I am sure.

The grander, more ambitious and fantastical the transformation – the more hellacious it seems during the process.

Don’t listen to the soup. The soup is well…soup. It’s uncomfortable and ugly and incomplete. The soup does’t know shit and it doesn’t give good advice.

Soon you’ll take flight,
Love you!
xox