healing

* Hi Loves,
Recently I tried to rush someone’s healing process.
Right? Shame on Me! I’ve been there, I know better!
So I needed to re-read this to remind – myself.
Maybe you need it too.

Healing takes time! Time to find the silver lining, to look on the bright side, to discover the purpose, to remember that this too shall pass.
Sorry.
Carry on-

Barn’s burned down,
now I can see the moon.
~Masahide~

Oh, so I get it!

Don’t worry about the loss of that beautiful, useful, building you’re still paying for, now you have a view…of the moon…on the nights when you’re outside sobbing over your lousy luck and the shit the insurance company’s putting you through.

Only then can you take a second to raise your snot covered face to the sky,
“Oh never-mind, why am I so devastated? – that is so beautiful…now that the barn’s gone…I can see the moon”.

NOT!!

I wish to God Almighty I could always be that enlightened in the face of crisis and chaos!

Car got totaled,
now I can get some exercise…
How practical.

Or how about,

Husband left me,
now I can catch up on my reading…
Ommmmm…perfectly Zen.

Don’t get me wrong.
I love the message behind these spiritual sayings,
and they really do give me pause to do a reality check, but honestly! Who lives like that?
Maybe me on a good day.
But it would have to be my best day ever.

I take it as a suggestion of an ending place, a goal, a place to aspire to.
Because, if I live under the impression that that’s where I should be immediately, it makes me want to scream and cry, and punch somebody in the face.
It may take me awhile to get there, shit, it could take years!

If the proverbial barn burns down, I’m gonna freak out.
I’m gonna get mad.
And sad.
And scared.
Maybe all at the same time.
Because in that moment, that’s appropriate.

I’m going to use every profanity known to man,
in every language I can think of, and some that haven’t been invented yet.
I’m going to yell them loudly – and often.
As verbs and nouns and adjectives.
They will start and end every sentence I speak.

Maybe NOT appropriate, but amazingly cathartic.

Then, only after the dust has settled, and I’ve had a good cry and a glass of wine and regained my composure…
THEN and only then…will I appreciate the fuckin’ view.

Xox

You must never allow something that happened to you to become a morbidly treasured heirloom that you carry, show people, put back in its black velvet pouch and then tuck back into your jacket where you can keep it close to your heart.”
~Augusten Burroughs

Same topic. Wounded-ness. Forgiveness. Healing.
Seems to be in the air these days.
Everyone’s got an axe to grind.

What if one day you took that pouch out of your jacket pocket and diamonds spilled out instead?

How could you tell your sad little story when all you held in your hands were…diamonds? Not your morbid heirlooms, just beautiful crystals forged under pressure from the blackest of coal.

What if your heart had transmuted your sad stories into diamonds through the alchemy of forgiveness?

What if we all refused to enable each other’s wounds?
Because we were so dazzled by the diamonds we found there, in our pockets. We could finally see our stories transformed into the gems they really are.

THAT is the power of forgiveness my loves.
Let’s all make diamonds…

Xox

What are you going to take out of the black velvet pouch and turn into a diamond today? Tell me about it?

“Human beings are works in progress that mistakenly think they’re finished”
~Dan Gilbert from TED 2014

There is a young, female photographer, Chino Otsuka, who is photo shopping her current, twenty something self, into pictures from her childhood. It’s really quite remarkable. She’s able to get the shadows right and all the little details that make it absolutely seamless.

My jaw dropped when I saw them.

That got me to thinking.
Because my jaw doesn’t drop often, therefore it must trigger my brain.

As I admired Chino Otsuko’s photographs, they reminded me of an exercise I did once in a workshop.
Last Wednesday, at our Women’s group, we tried it, and it rocked.  It’s pretty powerful, and can be amazingly healing.

You go back as your present day self and sit down next to your younger self at time of turmoil or change. 
So, think about that for a minute…
What if we could visit our younger selves?
Like a visitor from the future, what would we do or say?
“Damn, you’re beautiful and your body rocks and you’re convinced you’re a fat pig.
Here’s some stock tips?
Fashion advise?
Quick, get me a scissor so I can cut off that mullet?”

Through the course of our lives, we’ve all had times of despair.
If we saw the “us” from that time, would we even recognize him or her? Would we pass her on the street and smile, or cross the street to avoid eye contact, and that dark cloud overhead?

Go back in your memory, to a dark time in your life.
How old are you? What are you wearing? Where are you? What time of day or night is it? Look around and gather intel.
Now, feel the sadness, betrayal, fear…..all of it. Really go back there.
Then remember, you’re just visiting and it’s part of the past.

Now, go and be next to “you.” Sit in the car, or on the stairs or stand on the beach.
It’s a bad time, so comfort them. Would you put your arm around them? Wipe their tears? Crack a joke?

No one could know better what you needed at that time, than you…….so do it.
After awhile, start to talk to them, the “you” from that painful time in the past.
You’ve made it through to the other side. Tell them. Give them hope. Tell them how you did it.

Say gently: This Too Shall Pass. Whisper it. Don’t make eye contact or they may slug you.

People say that potentially irritating phrase all the time for a reason……Because it’s true.

In that moment of doubt or pain, we are convinced nothing can change, or worse yet, that the change will kill us.

We’re convinced we are finished; when this is actually a journey and we are works in progress.

Don’t tell them how long it’s going to take or what collateral damage will be left in its wake.
One woman said she would have given up if she’d been told it would take ten years. She could barely stand one more minute of her pain.

Be kind and compassionate and let them know that all will be well.

THAT you know for sure, because here you are!

You didn’t die, you didn’t give up. You put one unsteady foot in front of the other in that slow march out of hell.
But look at you now.
Like a Phoenix from the ashes, you have emerged strong and brave and ready to kick ass.

It really is an interesting exercise and I suggest you give it a try.

I’d love to hear where you met your past self and what you said. Tell me about it below.

Carry On,

Xox

“If you’re looking for sympathy you’ll find it between shit and syphilis in the dictionary.” 
― David Sedaris, Barrel Fever

Once upon a time, I hung out with a shaman. 
He was my own personal “pocket shaman.”
He went everywhere with me, and helped me through all the wild things that were happening back then, with his wild eyed magic, his herbs and teas and his amazing energy work.
I was NOT having a good time with my spiritual awakening. I was a sick, whining, complaining, crying, hot mess.

He did love me, so he was somewhat indulgent. But he was so much further along on the spiritual path than I was at that time, that after awhile, he wouldn’t tolerate my behavior.
He would not continue to hear my complaints, no matter how valid. He could not bring himself to listen to my stories of victim hood for one. more. second.
He would just turn and leave the room…….while I was in mid sentence.
With my head in my hands, weeping, I’d beg for his advise about a situation that was causing me intense emotional pain, and his response would be: “We’ve discussed this, you know what I think you should do, I’m not talking about this again with you.”
WTF?! “Don’t you want to help me?”
“I’m not helping you by continuing to talk about it. If you want to stay there, if you want to summon a co-complainer, someone who will join you at your pity party, go call a girlfriend.”

I started to hate him. (I don’t want to say hate….. but I’m being honest here). 
I remember screaming at him to listen to me.
“You’re NOT my friend, you DON’T love me!”
“I DO love you! but you’re right, I’m not your friend, I’m your teacher, I’m here to help you. I will not come join you in your pain. A true friend would not keep you in this misery”
I remember slugging him hard in the arm as he turned and walked away.
Not my proudest moment.

“It is terribly rude to tell people that their troubles are boring.” 
― Lemony Snicket, The Blank Book

My friend Wes is similar. He wouldn’t commiserate with me when both my cats were killed by coyotes within a week of each other, and it almost ended our friendship. He just wouldn’t go there. He listened with compassion, when I cried about it in the beginning; but he wouldn’t indulge my need to keep talking about it, and stay in the “why” of it. He would get quiet, make a joke, or change the subject all together.
God, that was annoying.
He did it again when my business went south. I remember being at dinner with him and feeling so hurt and angry, because he seemed bored with my plight. He listened, but he wouldn’t engage. It was so freaking frustrating; like standing at the net with my racket and my opponent won’t return my serve.
Over and over and over again.
I felt ENRAGED!
The rage inside felt familiar; very similar to what I had felt toward my shaman friend years before. I had to restrain myself from hurling my body across the table and stabbing him in the neck with a fork.
Note to self: I am a pacifist ONLY if you indulge me, by listening to endless hours of my sad, sucky stories.

Staying in wounded victimhood has it’s own special high. With all the words of encouragement and people trying to help, it keeps you from having to stand on your own two feet, move forward, and take some responsibility.
Sympathy can be addictive.

Here’s the thing. They both loved me a ton, and they reacted in the most loving way possible. They wouldn’t stand with me in the energy of my pain for any longer than necessary. It’s a kind of spiritual “tough love.” I get that now.
And they did it at their peril. I felt abandoned and betrayed, and I lashed out accordingly. I strung together tirades of four letter words that would have made a drill sergeant blush, and there were long periods of time where I didn’t see either of them. I wasn’t ready to move on. I wanted to beat the dead horse and then some.
They would not meet me there. They stood in the place of my healing, of my wholeness, not my woundedness……….and they waited for me there.
It took awhile to join them, but eventually, I did.

I want to caution you: Please, Don’t try this at home. It may not go well. People want a shoulder to cry on, and if you take that away; they may punch you.
Be advised, there will be hurt feelings. But it IS the more loving act.
Maybe someone is loving you this way right now.
Food for thought.
Carry on.

Any thoughts? I’d love to hear ’em.

Xox

According to astrologists, we are in for quite a ride the next two weeks. To me the energy feels like a speedball. It either makes me shaky and speedy, like 10 cups of high octane Italian espresso or so sleepy I’m afraid to drive or operate heavy machinery, like my sonic care toothbrush.
Things feel incredibly tense, there could be some back biting and sharp tongues.
Maybe that’s just at my house.

Regardless, they’ll be lots of revisiting of painful situations for healing. Lots of clearing out and letting go…you know, April. April, for me, has always been a “mutha” of a month. Powerful change, ego adjustments, clearing, break ups, deaths…all the fun stuff I can’t stand.

“There can be a deep shift or psychological adjustment to an old, sad emotional space in your soul today. Work with any power struggles to help shift the energy.”
AnneOrtelee-

Oh goodie.
That was one of the tidbits from the highlight reel of my life for the next two weeks.
After taking in all this doom and gloom information, I decided to just “be advised” and go on with life as usual. I will try to breathe through the shit, and lend a hand to those that get stuck in it. That someone could be me, so I decided to wear my waders.

Here’s what has happened so far this week; It’s Wednesday….Yeah.
Three years ago, with the demise of my store, and all the legal hassles that followed, while we were negotiating the rent settlement with the landlord, he put a lien on our home. Total asshat move and just another lesson learned while swimming with the sharks. Once all the judgements were satisfied, I wanted the lien removed. ASAP. I heard nothing. I would periodically email, or ask my attorney the status, but to be honest here, when I didn’t get the paperwork or hear back, I feared I would have to take more legal action, and I just wasn’t up to it. Swimming with sharks is exhausting and demoralizing and I needed a rest.
It has been two years now, and it’s been hanging over my head. You know, that thing that you know you HAVE to do, but the thought of it makes you sorry you’re a grown up and you feel like you want to puke?
So I composed another email to the principal asshat. The one that I’ve had the hardest time forgiving. I squirmed through the whole process. It was short and to the point: Remove the lien from my home…Now…Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter.
He waited a few days, and yesterday sent all the paperwork and PDF’s that showed he had done it the day I asked; years ago. My less than competent lawyer never filed it with the county. Note to self: Lawyers on contingency are always busy with the paying clients. My case was filed under “small potatoes” and treated as such, buried in dirt….we’ll label that Lesson #1124.
So with a bit of minor paper shuffling, I AM DONE WITH THAT.
That sad, sucky situation has been revisited…and cleared. What a freaking relief.

So that was the high yesterday. The low happened in the afternoon.
Our little four month old Boxer-shark puppy had been acting lethargic for a couple of days. We tried to cover our glee with concern. She was docile and mellow, and it was heaven, but it wasn’t right. She stayed home with me yesterday, just sleeping and re enacting the deathbed scene from “Terms of Endearment.” Big sad eyes, stoically smiling through her pain. At 3pm I became the mother from that movie, when suddenly I had to rush her to the vet. She had woken up limp and shaking, and unable to walk on her left leg. I drove the three miles to the Vet in two and a half minutes, yelling back at her limp, sad face to hold on. Once there, I found out our little tripod was running a very high fever. They couldn’t see much in the X-rays. They couldn’t explain the high fever. So…to the specialist we went. My husband, who loves dogs more than people, joined me, and we rushed her, in rush hour, to the Spendy Vet. Spendy Vet is where you go at 3am, or drive a hundred miles an hour to get to. It costs minimum $500 to walk in the door, and it means you have a very sick animal.
We had done this exact drive to this exact facility in 2007 with our old boxer girl Penelope. She just started one day to have horrible seizures. Pancreatitis was suspected…go see the specialists. We took her for tests, and the next day, when we went to visit her, we were told the prognosis was so bleak, we had no choice but to put her down. It was so unexpected and traumatic. I’ll never forget it. Either will my husband. He told me on the drive over yesterday, that he purposely avoids that section of Sepulveda Blvd, because he can’t stand to see that building. The wound is still too fresh. And here we are, on our way there, with our sick baby puppy.
We were only there an hour total and the situation couldn’t have been more different than before. Yes, she was really sick, but they assured us, she was so young and going to be fine. Everyone was petting her and kissing her, and the doctor owned boxers, so he received my husbands seal of approval. Which is very hard to come by. When they called early this morning, her fever had broken and she was in all her wild puppiness once again.
So, we revisited a VERY sad and painful situation, going back to the scene of the crime, so to speak, and had a completely different and actually lovely outcome.
Maybe my husband can stop his self inflicted detours and drive past that building now. That’s a huge healing.

If this is what the energy is bringing, I think I can do this. So far so good. It does feel like a speeding train and I want to put my big Fred Flintstone foot out and slow this puppy down. But that’s highly unadvisable. 
These are yucky, sucky, sticky, painful situations that needed clearing. It feels shitty, until you get to the other side. Easy for me to say today, let’s see what happens the next two weeks.
Hey, nice thing is; we’re all in this together.

Are you revisiting your own painful situations for clearing? How is this big energy affecting you? I’d love to hear about it in the comments below.

XoxJanet

Your ability to lead a healthy and happy life depends more on your perception of the events that unfold around you than it does upon the actual events themselves.
– Christiane Northrup

I LOVE this quote!!