finding my way back

On being tired

There are days you invite me to hold up
everything in sight. You. The world.
My arms ache. Add more. Go ahead.
My body becomes numb. You look
into my eyes and tell me no one cares
about you. I shift, grit my teeth, and try
to explain you are wrong. You follow
the instructions from your past:
pour more, rinse, repeat.
I start crying. You change the subject
to how you give. I start shaking. I cannot
breathe. You remind me of all you do not
appreciate about me. The time I said nothing
the person I know would say. You remind me.
Again. “Do you see how hard it is to be me?”
Every day I stand, my arms reach to the sky
as the sun burns the back of my neck.

“Yes. I see”

********

Tomorrow this blog will return to the regularly scheduled programming of meditations and self-portraits and pictures from my trip and encouragement and all that good stuff. However, tonight I found my way back to this poem I began a few weeks ago and decided to share it here.

a few things...

1) my grandmother is here. even though this is the first big family event she is missing, she is here. in the faces of her daughters (and in their interactions with one another, this is a hee, hee moment), in my heart, and in the spirit of the hummingbirds that are everywhere in this gorgeous corner of the world.

2) even though my grandmother did this kind of wacky, sometimes horrible thing of encouraging this odd competition between my and my cousin who is about two months younger than me, we get along great. i adore him. and i can't wait to spend time catching up with him and with his wife this evening. i kind of stick my tongue out at my grandma right now about this one. she had this thing with creating competition when there didn't need to be any. and we outgrew that. thank goodness.

3) seeing my aunt and uncle interact with one another makes my heart happy.

4) my husband is a kind soul and my best friend. this makes me the luckiest person i know.

5) i might want to be a mom. but only if i can have a daughter as cute and smart and funny as my cousin's daughter. (no need to tell me it doesn't work that way...i am just sayin')

6) i wish my brother was here. he is playing a show in portland so he couldn't be here but i miss him. he and my cousin (the one who is getting married) were born on the same day of the same year. how cool is that? my mother and her sister both had a baby on the same day. i know he hates that he isn't here this weekend.

7) the cliff dwellings at mesa verde remind me that a lot of what i spend my time being wrapped up in is pretty insignificant in the scheme of things. i want to come back here (kind of want to come back alone) and spend time in these ruins. when my back is better and i can walk like regular old me again.

8) i am switzerland in a family that thinks they are switzerland too. but i think i might be the only one actually able to hoist that flag with certainty. family is great though. you can learn so much from spending time with the people that make up the tribe from which you came.

9) i love wearing my hair in these two pigtail bun things and i can't wait until it is long enough to wear it in two braids again.

10) the book eat, pray, love might change your life. so read it already won't you? (i am going to write and write and write some more. this book has yelled at me and also whispered to remind me that this is my calling.)

11) I miss my grandmother like crazy. i am just tired enough after getting three hours of sleep wednesday night and a few more than that last night that i kind of want to curl up in a ball and cry. but i won't. i will keep my eyes open for the hummingbirds. have you ever heard them talk? they make this fantastic chirping sound, letting you know that they have some feelings about you being in their air space. yes, i think my grandmother flies with them now.

12) i saw wild horses today. enough said really.

13) i know i missed poetry thursday for the first time since the thursday in february when it all began. just trust me that today in the ruins i was part of the poetry of the earth. that is enough for this week i think.

14) wait until i tell you about how i am doing the mirror meditation while i am here. stay tuned...

senses. a day spent working on my laptop on the back porch.

{see}

{taste}

{touch}

{smell}

{hear}

{and know}

what do you want?

There are a lot of voices that whisper inside me. That is just the truth. But there is one that has been trying to spend a lot of time with me recently. It has been a soft voice lately, but I know it has been there for a long time, and it has, in the past, even been a loud, shouting voice. This voice says things like: “Who do you think you are?” “Why are you doing this?” “Do you really think anyone cares? About you? About what you are DOING? About who you are?” “Why can’t you just be quiet and leave others alone?” “You always want to talk about things and no one else does. Shut up.” “Stop whining.” “This is pathetic. Just stop. It will be easier if you just sit back down in your corner.”

There are lots of things that I can do to ignore this voice. I read, eat, watch television, go to a movie, listen to music, practice yoga, talk on the phone with a friend, talk and talk so I don’t have to hear it. But it just waits until I think I feel some balance. Then it begins again.

Over the last few weeks, the comments and emails I have received from you wonderful people who visit me in my world at this blog have simply overwhelmed me. You have invited me to honor who I am and how I share myself here. But just as I finish reading and feel those words start to fill up my heart, this whisper starts up again. “Who do you think you are? You can’t really believe that stuff.” And I recognize that may seem like I am not honoring what people have written, but that is not the case. This is not about the writer of the comment or email, it is about me. It is about how I cannot accept that the words are true.

I always thought my friends thought of me as “the bitch” of the group. I always wanted to do the right thing and not get in trouble. I would disagree with them. I had strong opinions about what was right and what was wrong. I was liberal and independent and wanted to be strong in a culture that kind of just wanted me to shut up and be like the rest of the girls. In grade school, I recited Helen Reddy’s “I Am Woman Hear Me Roar” for my oral interpretation. My freshmen year of high school, my speech teacher had me speak against the Equal Rights Amendment because he knew how alien this would be to me. I was so angry I could not vote for Bill Clinton in high school because I was worried he wasn’t going to win. I could be moody at times because I felt sadness and was troubled by things that were happening around me and in the world. I was confused by fakeness and would react with emotion when I was confused. Friends would keep things from me (like how a boy I had a crush on had asked one of them out on a date or that they all started smoking when I was vocally against smoking because my grandfather had died of lung cancer before I was born) because they were afraid of how I would react, “Liz is emotional.” I had similar experiences in college and beyond. And this made me feel scared that I didn’t really have any friends because no one really knew me or wanted to really know me.

There is a song by the Spin Doctors that was popular in high school called, I think, “Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong.” One of my high school friends turned to me one evening and said, “Liz, I think this song is about you.” Do you know how that song starts? “Been a whole lot easier since the bitch left town.” Wow. That interaction greatly shaped my role in my group of friends in high school and to this day. Was I the bitch?

In my family, I often felt like the oldest person in the room because of my need to do the right thing or because I felt so deeply about things or because I wanted to talk about things or because I spent so much time worrying about everyone else. And this was different from how people in my family reacted to life, at least from my perspective at the time.

(This is where a disclaimer originally appeared. A place where I talked about how I am not pointing any fingers and I am not trying to invite anyone to feel bad. But really, I have to stop that. Sometimes my life feels like a disclaimer {my friend Heather is out there nodding somewhere} so I deleted it. Still, remember that this blog is about my perspective and not about someone else’s. My name is the one in the sidebar to the right.)

When I look in the mirror, I am afraid to be honest about the fact that I think some of that past stuff is shit. That I do not think I am a bitch. (Am I?) That I do not think I was wrong when I was vocal because I felt compassion for others or because my goal wasn’t to be a quiet “good” wife one day or because I was intelligent or because I was mad about something or confused…the list is endless.

Now there is a bit of a disconnect between my realization that I have spent so much time thinking about the feelings of others and not myself and that some of these others think of me as a self-centered person. This seems so confusing. And I wonder if some people read my blog and think, “This isn’t really her. I mean, she isn’t being honest about how she can be a bitch.” But as I look in the mirror, I think I just have to honor that I know my truth.

And your words, the community I have found here, a community where I do think people are real with one another, helps me see this. Do I believe this seems so “real” partly because I don’t have baggage yet with the people I have met through blogging? Perhaps. But what I think is that in this environment, many people (certainly not all, but the people I feel the deepest connections with) get right to the guts of things. The small talk isn’t needed. Whether this is on their blog, in an email conversation, over the phone. Instead, we just get right to it. The heavy lifting. The good stuff that is hard and painful and beautiful and true.

Last night, I turned off my computer earlier than usual and went to bed to read. I may be the last blogger to read the book Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, but I am finally reading it. I imagine there was a reason I waited until now. I am so swept up in it that I keep promising myself little things like, "just edit one more chapter, then you can read five pages." There is something wonderful about not reading on a computer screen because I do that all day long with my work and when I am out in blog world.

Gilbert's words prompted me to spend time in front of my mirror around midnight last night. I got up to go to the bathroom and then after I washed my hands, I leaned against the bathroom counter and had a meeting of the minds with myself.

What do you want?

The answer came right away. But then: You can’t really do that.

What do you want?

Same answer. Then, no, you don’t want that.

What do you really want?

Same answer. But, you said you wanted this and that, so you are kidding yourself again.

What do you want?

Same answer. This time I did not even pay attention to the voice, I just asked myself again.

And again and again and again, the same answer.

As I leaned into the mirror, I felt as though I had clarity about something that the negativity could not touch. Clarity that is not about some huge life changing thing exactly, but something I know to be true about my future and who I want to be. Something I have pretended to have clarity about in the past but always that knowledge seemed to succumb to that voice. And maybe it will again. But at least I see it for what it is now. Just a voice that wants to drag me to the past. The past I honor because it brought me to this place. But a past in which I do not live.

enclosed in a moment {self-portrait challenge}

This month’s topic at self-portrait challenge is enclosed spaces. I have been exploring the idea of being enclosed in my body.

Today I was enclosed in a moment with my body.

In this last week, my energy around the reflection meditation has become a bit more about “oh I forgot again and it is 11:00 p.m.” and less “this is the time I have set aside to do this.”

Today, I changed that. I created a practice. My plan is to partake in the extended version I did today at least once a week. But each day, I will do at least a piece of this practice.

I created a space for myself in our family room. Propping up the mirror that usually sits on our mantel, using a small stool as a table, changing into something that makes me feel good, putting on a little make-up. I made a pot of tea for one and a small plate of treats.

I sat down in front of the mirror and lit a candle and stated my intention.

I chanted to Shiva, hoping to gain strength and the ability to detach from all that flits back and forth in my mind.

I opened my eyes and looked at my reflection.

I had a tea party with my own reflection, eating a little chocolate, some walnuts, and rainier cherries.

I took some pictures of myself.

I watched myself in the mirror, noticing how it felt to be in my body, in these clothes, in this day.

I honored my body and its curves.

I acknowledged a power greater than me and blew out the candle.

This meditation is about accepting that my outer self and my inner self are one. It is about being as gentle with my physical body as I believe I should be with my emotional body because they both make up me.

Is there a separation between the outer and inner physical self? Do the voices of others speak so loudly in our heads that we forget to honor that inner beauty is the outer beauty? Will we allow the expectations of the “shoulds” to take over who we want to be? These are the questions that swirl around me tonight as I sit here hoping you are being gentle with yourself. That you are honoring your physical and emotional bodies. Hoping you are owning your beauty.

inviting peace {a chant}

I believe that letting go of the words that can seem stuck inside of us, as many people have been doing in the comments of Sunday’s post, frees some space inside you. I honor those of you who have freed this space inside you with the pieces you have left here. Thank you for being brave and sharing your feelings, emotions, fears, and thoughts.

Today, I was thinking about the idea that for some people, when they share something they have been keeping inside, they feel freedom. This created space inside is a relief. For others, this space may feel new and invite uncertainty.

Wherever you are in your journey, I would like to invite you to fill the space inside you with peace.

To me, inviting peace means to invite a feeling of quiet, calm, validation, safety, and the knowledge that you are not alone.

If you click on the audio post below, you will hear a chant that invites peace. Shanti is the Sanskrit word for peace. In my yoga classes, and maybe in classes you have been in, this brief chant is usually repeated three time. I have repeated it a few more times in case you want to join in after you have heard it. At the end of this chant, I have shared some words my teacher often says at the end of class.

If you don’t feel like you are in a place to invite peace inside you, maybe you should take a moment to leave a comment in the previous post or read what others have left in the comments. You might feel yourself shift a bit.

Thank you for sharing yourself here.

Updated: The site that was hosting my audio posts shut down. I am slowly adding new audio posts and meditations to new blog posts and will link to this chant when I post it again.

let go of the beast inside

We are so accustomed to disguising ourselves to others that in the end we become disguised to ourselves.
François Duc de La Rochefoucauld

As I was walking in Portland yesterday, I had this thought that there is something I would really like to share here but I can't. Something that someone said to me recently that stopped. me. in. my. tracks. I was so shocked by this person's "well-intentioned but holy crap I can't believe you just said that to me and I am supposed to react to you" idea that I did not know what to do. This isn't someone who "lives" in my blog world but someone who lives in my "real" world. It wasn't earth shattering, but it was something I wanted to post about because I think people would...well...I think it would be an interesting topic. However, I know that person never even thought for a minute that what was said might hurt me or have been not at all helpful.

This led me to think about the idea that after a blog is shared with friends or family, censoring or the avoidance of certain topics might occur, and if the blog is anonymous, this probably doesn't happen as often. Whether you started out with friends and family reading your blog, told them about it after you started, or even if they don't know but you feel close with people in your blog world, you probably began to censor just a bit or avoided certain hot topics. For some, it may not be too much. For others, it might be a lot. It depends on the topic and the day and so many other things. For me, I do not really censor, but when I do, it is usually to avoid accidentally hurting someone's feelings. (I am already thinking, "Oh I hope no one is out there trying to figure out what you said. Let that go. That is not the point of this post. And no, it wasn't you. Or you.") I believe this is a place for me to reveal pieces of the truth of my journey, a place where I unpack bits of my baggage to examine and learn. But it is also a place where I seek a community of sorts. And I appreciate that this has given some people in my life the opportunity to see other sides of who I am. I know that there are topics I avoid (politics being one) because I just don't want my blog to be about debating or other things. Still, there are times when I want to say things here. I want to show another side of myself. I want to say, "hey, you hurt my feelings and I think you should know that and if you are going to do it in public, I want to reply in public." Or maybe tell a piece from my childhood or about my relationships with certain people in my life. But I believe my blog is not a place for that. Even though writing here is so personal for me and has become a big piece of who I am, this is not the place for everything.

However, if we keep these things bottled up inside for too long, they grow. It is almost as though they sprout feet and teeth and claws. We have to be careful that they don't become raging beasts inside us, threatening to alter our course with their power.

As I was walking around in Portland, I had the thought that I wished I could just share some of these things in someone else's comments. I know that is odd, but that way I could put it out into the universe and not censor. Hmmm. Then as we were walking today, I shared this next idea with Lynn, and we agreed I should put it out there.

Is there anything you want to share here that you can't share on your blog? A story that others wouldn't understand? Feelings about a hot topic? A venting that just needs to be unearthed from the depth of your being? A piece of information you just have to share? A secret's energy that needs releasing? If yes, I invite you to leave this here in the comments of this post. Feel free to leave it anonymously if you like. Just get it out of you.

I think you will feel lighter without it growing inside you.

these eyes

My mind resists why I am here. Eyebrows need to be plucked. Hmmm. Those pores need some attention. What are we going to do for dinner? Did I take Millie out this afternoon? I think I might want to run out and get some coffee. Why am I doing this again? Hmmm. I close my eyes. Breathe in. Pause. Breathe out. Open my eyes. Look again.

This thought.

These eyes. These eyes are the only eyes that will ever see all that I have seen, all that I will see. Holy crap. This is huge. HUGE. I spend so much time wishing that I could adjust this or move that or look like. But this is it. This is the face I bring to this life time. These are the eyes that will see all that I will see as I move through my experiences. These are the eyes that will help me learn this time around; the eyes that will force me to see even when I want to sleep.

Spending time with my reflection seems to take me down a different pathway each day. Sometimes I resist to such a degree I feel like I have let myself down a bit, like I didn't "get" what I was to "get" that day. Though I know that isn't really true, I can become a bit exasperated with myself. Other days I have the "crappers it is 11:30 p.m. and I haven't spent any time in front of the mirror" thoughts. But those seem to be the days that I have a little epiphany. Interupting the flow of things seems to turn my usual thoughts upside down. And that can't be a bad thing.

If you are joining me in your own journey of self-reflection through time with your mirrored self, I hope you will realize there is no "right" way to practice this. You could spend 15 seconds just breathing and looking at yourself, noticing whatever comes up. You could devote the same 10 minutes every day to this experience. You could sit with a poem or whatever inspires you and read, then spend time with your reflection. The possibilities go on and on. This week, I wrote about how I unexpectedly serenaded myself and I have to say I highly recommend that. Feel free to share your ideas and experiences here if you would like.

Take a moment and look deeply into your eyes. What do you see? What would happen if you let go a bit of the wishing to look like and honored this face? Honored these eyes? Honored you?