Changing Patterns

The pattern I'd like to change is the one where I get all this energy, excitement and commitment around taking action on something that moves my heart ... and then it fizzles. What is up with that!?? I get lots of things done, really!  I'm considered pretty competent, driven, resourceful and capable by my peers and friends.  What happens between the excitement and passion around writing a new blog and the gap that follows before the next one?

I can't keep waiting for a parent-figure to step in and nudge me or send me a reminder that my musing is overdue.  Time to put on the big girl pants and step into my writings with the passion that is constantly bubbling just under the surface.  And the time seems right.  

So many things are going well in my life ... blessings beyond measure.  My husband and I are moving to a larger apartment WITH A BALCONY!  We've loved the apartment experience at our current location and are so excited to be spending this holiday season going through our things - once again - and sorting out what stays, what goes, what we can gift to others, etc.

Our children are spectacular.  Really, they are.  Very good-hearted and coming into their own beings.  Loving.  Very loving.  We've had a significant death in the family and watching the cousins all band together and now connect in support of each other is so heart-warming.

And need I say anything about my exceptionally awesome grandson?  Of course I do!  He changed schools at the beginning of the school year and managed the adjustment so smoothly.  He's a hugger - such warm and loving hugs.  A great sense of humor and an affinity for Old Spice fragrances - LOL.

I LOVE my job - teaching English to refugees and immigrants at OACES.  My students are from all over the world and so interesting.  They're also incredibly respectful of teachers. They call me, "Teacher."  I get to be creative and the learning is definitely a mutual thing.

My organization, ProsperRochester, Inc. has been rebranding itself and a new, involved Board of Directors is pumping life into our direction and capacity.  We are all volunteers and do not tie ourselves to a "bricks and mortar" location, which keeps our expenses at minimum.  We take advantage of the MANY places and resources in the area that are available to all citizens for meetings, gatherings, events, etc. that keep our programming moving forward.  Our passion is respectfully supporting the passion of others by connecting people with resources.

Lastly, I'm not going to tell you about what's been troubling me as of late.  I'm not going to tell you today because I want to commit to coming back within the next couple of days and sharing the challenge I've been having as of late ... a longstanding challenge.  I'll describe it, let you know what I've been doing about it and share the frustration of feeling like I'm back at square one.  Maybe talking about it this way will help me move through it and beyond it. Oh yes, I WILL get beyond it.  I'm sure of that.  And, should any doubt try to sneak in there, I can look back at my constant flow of blessings as a testament that the Big Guy has my back.  Frankly, He's crazy about me :)

Someone Moved the Boxes!

Yes, I know I have not done a good job of regularly blogging. I'm hoping that my new business partner, who is a social media maniac, will inspire me to be more consistent as he puts our organization, ProsperRochester, on the media map.

Now, about the boxes.

I have this straight line of boxes in my head.  Some are filled, some are partially filled, some are almost empty.  They aren't fancy boxes, just clean cardboard boxes.  Each one represents a person or a part my life that I've comfortably compartmentalized and organized logically so that I can manage them.

But the other day, Lo and Behold, someone kicked the damn boxes spilling contents everywhere!  Some of the stuff in one box mixed with the stuff in another box - what a mess!  

I stood there, hands on hips, looking at the boxes and it occurred to me that the people and the things in my life don't belong in boxes.  They do not need to be controlled or "managed."  A little order is useful, but too much order is constricting and fosters inflexibility.  I'm feeling just a little bit excited (and a little nervous) about revisiting the boxes and consciously beginning to empty them, deciding what goes where and whether or not they need to be in boxes at all.

I'll keep you posted.

Get Your Foot Off the Hose!!!

I'm blessed to be surrounded by many earthly beings who offer me books, readings, antecdotes, conversations, and other spiritual support that has been guiding my growth over so many years.

I'm always grateful for visits to my mom when my sister and I travel for 6 hours to visit my other sister and then pick up mom for a "girls' gathering."  The trip is a time for gabbing and catching up, even though my Rochester sister and I are in a women's circle together once week anyway.  We love talking about where we are spiritually and what growth step we're currently engaging in or struggling with.  And we listen to murder mysteries on tape (just so you don't think it's all one big spiritual love-fest).

I'm an extremely visual person; I really think in pictures.  It's a drawback at times when people share information and I can't make the pictures fast enough in my head.  It frustrates the information giver; and it frustrates me because I feel as though I'm a tad "slow."

On this trip, I talked with my sister about a cute little picture I read in one of the books a good friend has shared with me called "Power Through Constructive Thinking" by Emmet Fox.  It talks about a father who is gardening with his daughter (that, alone, is a pretty cool metaphor).  His daughter has gotten excited about using the hose to water the plants.  At some point, the water abrubtly stops and she becomes frustrated and yells for her father's help.  He points out to her that her foot is on the hose, stopping the flow of water.  She steps off and the water flows freely again.  At some point in the afternoon, the same thing happens and Dad has to remind his daughter to get her other foot off the hose so the water can run freely.  

The point being that God's blessings and gifts are like the water flowing from the hose - freely, abundantly, without hesitation - until I step onto the hose.  What does that stepping represent - my doubt, my fears, my insecurity, my distrust, my lack of faith ...  

My sister was cool by adding to the picture words to go with the water coming out of the hose:  abundance, grace, blessings, faith, hope, safety, love, acceptance, all the power I will every need, etc.  I drew a picture of the hose and shot the water up into the air so it's falling all over me.  Hmmmmmmm.  Feel's good.

Just for today, I am becoming very mindful of when I put my foot on the hose and stop the flow.  I plan to do the same tomorrow.

Who Owns the Fence?

I attend a very special meeting every Sunday and am surrounded by love.  Unconditional love.  Accepting love.  Encouraging love.  Just lots of love.  And I leave that meeting every Sunday with new puzzle pieces that put me back together.

Today's puzzle piece came from someone with just two months of sobriety under his belt.   Here's how I integrated his story:

I'm sitting on the fence.  God is on one side of the fence, inviting me over.  I'm interested; a little doubtful about what it means to "join" that side.  On the other side of the fence is the Devil, luring me with things I like, easy ways out, numbness from the pain of reality, illusion.  I shift my gaze from one side to the other.

God calls to me.  I want to go but I worry about the pain of facing truth over there and sitting on the fence feels a little more comfortable at the moment.

The Devil calls to me - asks me what I'm going to do.  I tell him I plan on sitting on the fence just a little longer till I make my decision.  And he says, "I own the fence."

I believe it's time to jump ship - fast.  Answer God's call - NOW.  No more fence sitting.

I Own the Shackles

It has become ultra clear to me that I am the creator and the designer of the immensely heavy shackles I have been wearing on my ankles that have kept me from flying free.  I have been weighed down, locked in place, afraid to move.  Now these are not the type of shackles that stop all movement.  In fact, the fear and terror associated with thinking about the shackles creates an opposite reaction - flightiness, constant avoidant busy-ness, and an inability to "grow roots."   All of these behaviors do not serve me well.

And it occured to me that I can just "step out of" the shackles - I mean, their mine, right?  What a surprise to find out that it was only my mind that kept me in these chains.  No key necessary.  Just a willingness to take the step away from this very familiar place.

God has given me many hints along the way.  I visited Mandela's prison in South Africa in 2006 and took a lot of pictures.  Twenty-seven years of being trapped in a small space, abused, disenfranchised, dismissed, dishonored...undeservedly.

Today, I have several friends who were once incarcerated, some for as many as 30 years.  A real, physical prison.  And they teach me so much.  Like when you step out of the shackles, have a transition plan.  Surround yourself with a circle of friends who have your back and are experienced with stepping away from "prison" and into freedom.  It's very scary.  It's the unknown.  So, on this day of stepping out of my own shackles,  I'm going to walk around with my trusted friends for a bit before I take off and fly, as I was designed to do.

Thy Rod & Thy Staff...Can Beat the Crap Out of You

I spent a lot of time integrating the vision of the Shepherd lovingly "guiding" me toward the safety of "the flock."  Really good feeling.  And while I was hanging out with the flock, I was visited by the vision of being trapped in a locked bathroom by a perpetrator who left me with a wide array of feelings that appear to be cellular:  terror, betrayal, distrust, hopelessness, rage, defeat.  And I so want to disconnect from those senses.  I guess recognizing them is the first step.  Their existence is like having thick, heavy manacles attached to my ankles.  Unable to fly.  Stuck.  Afraid.  I'm grateful for the flock for letting me share these remembrances and having compassion for my struggle with them.

And I wonder if, once the manacles have been removed (and I KNOW that they will), will I even know how to fly?

So, I'm peeking out of the flock and it occurs to me that the Shepherd's rod and staff also have another purpose.  And as "the wolf" appears, I see the Shepherd raise his rod and staff and beat the living crap out of the wolf, who has no business being anywhere near His precious flock, and scampers away, tail between his legs, never to return again.  Because the Shepherd's got my back.  Okay, maybe that's not how it goes, but it sure is helping me heal.  So let me have that vision for a while.

Thy Rod and Thy Staff...Comforting

I've had some painful awarenesses and revelations in the last month.  Lots of rage, lots of weeping, periods of despondency, and, thank God, hope.  I've spent all of my life running from these feelings - keeping too busy and indulging in addictive behaviors have been the primary coping mechanisms.  And as I remove all of these shields (that have seemed necessary), I am left with ... me.  Raw, vulnerable, questioning, alone - very alone, despite being surrounded by many.  And the following picture came into my head:

There's this Shepherd with a rod and a staff, kind of nudging me away from the aloneness, the emptiness, and moving me gently toward this flock of warm and fuzzy sheep.  The Shepherd experience has revealed to me two things in particular:

(1)  I have sorely needed the discipline that has been my life over the past year as I removed flour and sugar from my diet (eliminating yet another item on my list of addictive behaviors).  It's taken A LOT of discipline.  But the discipline has come to be comforting as opposed to controlling or punishing.  It identifies the boundaries for me (boundaries have NEVER been something with which I've been familiar) and makes more clear where to be, and where not to be.

(2) Being "inside" the flock is very different than being "around" the flock or "near" the flock.  It's actually safe inside the flock.  Supportive.  An opportunity to "chill" instead of being so gosh darn "busy" all the time.   Flocks rock!

And the flock is where I've needed to be during this little return trip to hell.  I don't have my "drugs" to numb the feelings, obliterate the crappy thinking, stop the cellular hurricanes.  And as one of my sheep reminds me, "The only way to get through hell is to keep on walking."