I had dinner with several long-time friends this evening, walked when I got home, and then sat to write, and my mind was a clutter of random thoughts, shooting off in a dozen different directions. I meditated. More clutter. In my drafts folder for the blog, I found a piece that I thought I'd posted over a month ago. It was somewhat out of date, but, probably not by accident, it is also something that has been on my mind lately. Cleaning out.
In late December, I cleaned out all the unsolicited cosmetics with which various companies have gifted me. It freed up significant space in my medicine cabinet and left me even freer psychically. Then, I took on my bag bin. In the 1980s when almost no one except Kay was reusing bags, I was taking the same paper grocery bags back to the store week-in, week-out. At one point, I began dating them to see how long they would last. One lasted a whole year--52 weeks. So you can imagine how delighted I was at the advent of bags which were actually designed for reuse.
But then everyone and his/her cousin discovered the reusable bags were perfect little billboards. Every conference or show gives them away. My public radio station gives them away. When I looked at apartments a few years ago, they gave them away. Even my local hardware store gave them away. When DC passed a bill to charge for paper or plastic, the stores gave them away. All those bags and only four or five that I used regularly. Most of the others were gone with the start of the year.
The second week of January I went into a sorting frenzy with books. I donated about six boxes to the library in my building. They don't take textbooks, so I have another box in the corner of my living room still looking for a home. Those seven boxes were the books at which I knew I would never look again. I fussed as I contemplated at least 10 boxes moved out of my offices or my storage bin await sorting. I was able to get rid of one box, but there are nine more.
The only pleasing I needed to do was my heart, and I had struggled. What would be part of my future? What would not? Do I throw away hundreds of flyers for professional speaking which were really great designs, but were printed at just the time the dot.com bust and 9/11 killed the keynote conference-speaking circuit I'd been on? Of course, I do. That 16-year-old photo is almost unrecognizable. How do I let the Universe know I am open to professional speaking...just not the badly dated flyer, I had wondered, wanting to be careful not to send the wrong message.
Then something funny happened. I got distracted. My class and refugee resettlement activities picked up the pace, and I was able to back-burner the sorting. I did, however, leave several of the boxes right in the middle of my closest so that I cannot easily get to more than a few clothes without high-stepping over them. I didn't want to forget about the sorting. That's how I've been dressing since the end of the year.
A week or so ago I began to be impatient. Not with the climbing over the boxes, although that has been an annoyance. I got frustrated at the time my class was taking because now I knew exactly what to get rid of and didn't have time to do it. Almost all of it. As sparks within me have been ignited for these new directions, the mind-numbing boredom with my old work has become clear to me. While I'd like to think I have the capability to do whatever I need to do to support myself, my heart is shouting...not whispering, but shouting..."NOT THAT!" There was a time when I was energized by the work, but that is definitely the past. Enough already. I am ready to move on.
I am at the point in any class during which final projects and exams are occurring, so I must stay at it. While there is part of me that would like to just chuck it all, I suspect that there are things in each box that I do want to keep, but not much. Yet, having taken time to reconnect with my heart, I am certain that the decision-making will be easy.
All that brings me back to my intention to listen to what I know in my heart--the very purpose of this blog. In my heart I know that my future lies in what brings me to life, and what I did for 25 years no longer does that. To hang on to even one shred that isn't aligned with my future would again be a breach of my integrity. I am just unwilling to go there, and I have to believe that if the Universe has given me this spark, it will make sure I can support myself in my new directions.
Showing posts with label integrity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label integrity. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 7, 2017
Monday, February 6, 2017
Being in a Really Good Place
Twice this weekend I found myself in conversations with friends that I hadn't talked with much since I started my "exploration." In each conversation there came a point at which the words, "I am in a really good place," came spilling out of my mouth. In one conversation the words were actually "I am in a better place than I've been in 20 years." They weren't words, or even a concept, to which I'd given thought. They just seemed to be my truth at that point in each conversation.
Now what was all that about? To start with, they were "my truth." When I drew a line in the sand and said to myself that my work was killing me, I knew it was true. Except for fairly healthy eating, I hadn't been doing a single thing that I knew I should be doing for my physical, mental, or spiritual health. (I had been eating healthy foods but as I raced through most days, a lot of time I had to snarf meals or snacks down at a pace that couldn't have been good for my digestive track.)
I knew how to live better; I just wasn't doing it. What has happened over the last five weeks is that I have been living the way I know is good for me. I've been sleeping well and at least a full eight hours every night. I've exercised every day. I've prayed and meditated twice a day. I've been dreaming actively and mining them for spiritual insights. I've taken time to stop and chat with friends and neighbors, and I've made some new friends, leaving me feeling more satisfied about my relationships. I've read several books. I've been getting involved in my community on issues that I really care about. In short, I have felt like I was in personal integrity.
As I've described in this blog before, the word "integrity" derives from the Greek root which also gave rise to "integer"--a whole number. Before my exploration began, I was badly conflicted. I wasn't demonstrating wholeness in body, mind, or spirit. Now I am almost there and in addition to the impacts of each of the activities listed in the last paragraph on me, which have been significant, perhaps the strong effect is that of feeling whole again. I used to spend moments throughout every days wishing things were different: I wish I could just sleep until I was rested. I wish I could sit and enjoy this meal. Blah! Blah! Blah!
Among the realizations that came to me as I pondered "being in a really good place" was the one that even though there are a couple of areas of my life I'd like to enhance, I recognized that I hadn't even thought about either for weeks. I've been so focused on what is working that to think about what isn't working feels insignificant and a waste of energy.
This week's health coaching class includes coping with stress. Where was this when I needed it? Actually, there was nothing that I hadn't known, but when I was caught up in in, I seemed incapable of turning the tide. On occasion, I would attempt to redirect myself, but I felt like I was caught in quicksand and just couldn't pull myself out of it.
When I am in integrity, I am more resourceful. I am not sure the complete difference, but I've certainly been losing energy in the cracks between what I know to do and what I was doing. I think that some must be chalked up to having more time. In truth, I had a lot of colleagues who should have/could have worked the way I did, but they just chose not to. When lunch, workout, or quitting time came, they walked out. I always chalked it up to a deep service ethic, which is true, but in the ultimate act of lack of integrity, I'd remind my clients of the airline security announcements telling us to put the oxygen mask over ourselves before putting one on a child. If I didn't put the oxygen mask on myself, who else was going to do it?
Yes, I am in a really good place, and that place is integrity. My challenge will be to keep my attitude adjustment when I am more actively engaged in the world around me again.
Now what was all that about? To start with, they were "my truth." When I drew a line in the sand and said to myself that my work was killing me, I knew it was true. Except for fairly healthy eating, I hadn't been doing a single thing that I knew I should be doing for my physical, mental, or spiritual health. (I had been eating healthy foods but as I raced through most days, a lot of time I had to snarf meals or snacks down at a pace that couldn't have been good for my digestive track.)
I knew how to live better; I just wasn't doing it. What has happened over the last five weeks is that I have been living the way I know is good for me. I've been sleeping well and at least a full eight hours every night. I've exercised every day. I've prayed and meditated twice a day. I've been dreaming actively and mining them for spiritual insights. I've taken time to stop and chat with friends and neighbors, and I've made some new friends, leaving me feeling more satisfied about my relationships. I've read several books. I've been getting involved in my community on issues that I really care about. In short, I have felt like I was in personal integrity.
As I've described in this blog before, the word "integrity" derives from the Greek root which also gave rise to "integer"--a whole number. Before my exploration began, I was badly conflicted. I wasn't demonstrating wholeness in body, mind, or spirit. Now I am almost there and in addition to the impacts of each of the activities listed in the last paragraph on me, which have been significant, perhaps the strong effect is that of feeling whole again. I used to spend moments throughout every days wishing things were different: I wish I could just sleep until I was rested. I wish I could sit and enjoy this meal. Blah! Blah! Blah!
Among the realizations that came to me as I pondered "being in a really good place" was the one that even though there are a couple of areas of my life I'd like to enhance, I recognized that I hadn't even thought about either for weeks. I've been so focused on what is working that to think about what isn't working feels insignificant and a waste of energy.
This week's health coaching class includes coping with stress. Where was this when I needed it? Actually, there was nothing that I hadn't known, but when I was caught up in in, I seemed incapable of turning the tide. On occasion, I would attempt to redirect myself, but I felt like I was caught in quicksand and just couldn't pull myself out of it.
When I am in integrity, I am more resourceful. I am not sure the complete difference, but I've certainly been losing energy in the cracks between what I know to do and what I was doing. I think that some must be chalked up to having more time. In truth, I had a lot of colleagues who should have/could have worked the way I did, but they just chose not to. When lunch, workout, or quitting time came, they walked out. I always chalked it up to a deep service ethic, which is true, but in the ultimate act of lack of integrity, I'd remind my clients of the airline security announcements telling us to put the oxygen mask over ourselves before putting one on a child. If I didn't put the oxygen mask on myself, who else was going to do it?
Yes, I am in a really good place, and that place is integrity. My challenge will be to keep my attitude adjustment when I am more actively engaged in the world around me again.
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
90% is Just Showing Up
A friend came over for dinner this evening. One of our favorite restaurateurs has opened a new place in my neighborhood. We walked down for a glass of wine to check the place out before coming back to "play in the kitchen": we both enjoy cooking.
To mark a landmark birthday for me a few years ago, the two of us took a meandering trip around Tuscany. It was probably my best trip ever, although I have to say that I did grow weary of tourist-laden "hill towns" after a couple of them. One day as we were driving in the countryside, we saw a sign for a town we hadn't heard of and which didn't show up on our map. We decided to check it out. It wasn't without tourists but more like dozens instead of thousands, and there were actually unique shops and restaurants. We found a little side street and wandered into the best dining experience of my life.
As a cook, when I have a great dish in a restaurant, I immediately make notes so I can try to reproduce it when I return. I believe our wild boar with chocolate, pine nuts, and aromatic spices and tagliatelle in white truffle sauce was the best mean I've ever had. (So good that I didn't even note the dessert, which is usually the focus of my attention.) I still have my hand-scribbled notes attempting to capture its essence for later experimentation.
There are cooks who could just walk into the kitchen with those ingredients and start creating. I am not one of them. I am good at following recipes, and I am better than average at taking a recipe and modifying it until it hardly resembles the original. But, I do need something with which to start. After years of searching, I finally found an adaptable recipe, and we played with it. We smelled lots of aromatic spices--mace, allspice, clove, nutmeg--to try to figure out which had probably been in the Italian version. We aren't there yet, but we are moving in the right direction.
I had promised to write for at least 15 minutes a day, but by the time we dined, watched a movie and my friend left, I was tired...and uninspired. Since my TV sabbatical last week, I haven't watched much, so I caught a favorite show on demand. I was still not feeling it.
I sat and prayed and meditated. I shared my intention to keep my commitment and to write something every day. By the time 18 minutes of meditation had passed, what was clearly on my mind was the phrase "90 percent is just showing up," inspired by Woody Allen's "80 percent of life is just showing up." Apparently, my guides think that showing up is more important than Allen did.
As I pondered the phrase, I realized that there are a lot of things in life that we commit to do, but when the time comes, we try to weasel out of our promises. We avoid. We put it off. We just don't show up. Keeping our commitments is foundational to integrity. A missed commitment creates a "pinprick in our integrity." The next day another pinprick. Next week another. Pretty soon, we have a "hole in our integrity the size of the one in the Titanic," as Lizzie in The Game Called Life said.
Today, I showed up to keep my commitment to write...and to protect my integrity.
To mark a landmark birthday for me a few years ago, the two of us took a meandering trip around Tuscany. It was probably my best trip ever, although I have to say that I did grow weary of tourist-laden "hill towns" after a couple of them. One day as we were driving in the countryside, we saw a sign for a town we hadn't heard of and which didn't show up on our map. We decided to check it out. It wasn't without tourists but more like dozens instead of thousands, and there were actually unique shops and restaurants. We found a little side street and wandered into the best dining experience of my life.
As a cook, when I have a great dish in a restaurant, I immediately make notes so I can try to reproduce it when I return. I believe our wild boar with chocolate, pine nuts, and aromatic spices and tagliatelle in white truffle sauce was the best mean I've ever had. (So good that I didn't even note the dessert, which is usually the focus of my attention.) I still have my hand-scribbled notes attempting to capture its essence for later experimentation.
There are cooks who could just walk into the kitchen with those ingredients and start creating. I am not one of them. I am good at following recipes, and I am better than average at taking a recipe and modifying it until it hardly resembles the original. But, I do need something with which to start. After years of searching, I finally found an adaptable recipe, and we played with it. We smelled lots of aromatic spices--mace, allspice, clove, nutmeg--to try to figure out which had probably been in the Italian version. We aren't there yet, but we are moving in the right direction.
I had promised to write for at least 15 minutes a day, but by the time we dined, watched a movie and my friend left, I was tired...and uninspired. Since my TV sabbatical last week, I haven't watched much, so I caught a favorite show on demand. I was still not feeling it.
I sat and prayed and meditated. I shared my intention to keep my commitment and to write something every day. By the time 18 minutes of meditation had passed, what was clearly on my mind was the phrase "90 percent is just showing up," inspired by Woody Allen's "80 percent of life is just showing up." Apparently, my guides think that showing up is more important than Allen did.
As I pondered the phrase, I realized that there are a lot of things in life that we commit to do, but when the time comes, we try to weasel out of our promises. We avoid. We put it off. We just don't show up. Keeping our commitments is foundational to integrity. A missed commitment creates a "pinprick in our integrity." The next day another pinprick. Next week another. Pretty soon, we have a "hole in our integrity the size of the one in the Titanic," as Lizzie in The Game Called Life said.
Today, I showed up to keep my commitment to write...and to protect my integrity.
Saturday, August 13, 2016
Self-trust
Those who have been reading this blog for a while will recall that I've felt like I was in a transition for at least a year, maybe 18 months. I have talked about "feeling pregnant," sure that I was going to "deliver" a new and fuller me without really knowing what that meant.
All of a sudden, it feels like I am in the final moments of giving birth. I still don't really know where it is going, but I do know that I've learned a huge amount about myself and life over the last few months. Whatever is coming feels like I've taken a quantum leap in the cycle of spirit growth.
In the process of doing some "cleaning up of the past" so that I can really move forward, I stumbled onto "self-trust" as an issue. It ends up that the whole self-trust thing has come up before. 20-plus years ago, I had a cranial-sacral session in which the practitioner said, "You have self-trust issues." I was indignant.
My integrity is critical to me. I wouldn't/couldn't lie, cheat or steal. I am the girl who argued about the integrity of exceeding the speed limit by 5 miles an hour even if everyone else was doing it. How could I have self-trust issues? But self-trust...even trust...is more than that. In fact, integrity is much more than not lying, cheating, or stealing. As soon as I was able to break through my self-righteousness after each of these messages about self-trust, everywhere I turned I was able to see lack of self-trust.
Integrity derives from the same Greek root as "integer"--a whole number. Being in integrity is being true to who you know you are in your heart. Self-trust is acting in accord with that "soul's intention" for your life. Sometimes I've been very good at acting in alignment with my truth, but I admit that in recent years more often than not I've more reliably acting in accord with what the world around me has expected of me.
The world around me tells me that financial success, a well-founded retirement, and increasingly higher status jobs is "success," but I've really know that wasn't my definition of success. Why have I tolerated a job and superiors who treat me so disrespectfully for years? Do I not trust myself to do the things that I know are right for me? For that matter, why is it that I can't keep my intentions to avoid sugar, or to write this blog, or to meditate everyday? Those are the intentions that I know to be true to my heart.
Several months ago I mustered the courage to tell my boss I was quitting at the end of the summer...without another job in hand. That was integrity and self-trust. I gave a long notice because I needed that time to make sure current projects were either complete or at the stage of development at which they could be handed off to someone else. Taking good care of clients I love was integrity. I couldn't have trusted myself if I'd done less.
As the weeks passed I found myself dragging my feet. I kept saying the words but inside me I was afraid I couldn't do it.
In June I began to feel a real physical exhaustion. Why, I asked myself, had I not planned to leave sooner? Two things occurred about the same time that reinforced my decision to leave, and they were the final straws. Suddenly I was like the proverbial horse headed for the barn. I may not know what was at the end of the tunnel, but I was sure it would be better. Almost overnight, I felt a super-charged sense of self-efficacy. In retrospect, I had recognized my ability to come out on top... whatever life presented me. I finally trusted myself. Whoo-hoo!
The Universe was very affirming. Almost as soon as I got really clear that I was going to come out better however I came out, things started popping. I had two interviews in a week for a job I'd applied for in February. The founder of a new consulting firm called and began salary negotiation for an executive position. I attended a conference and a professional meeting and walked away from both with several leads on contract work if I decided to go independent. All of this is 10 days time. Within another week, I had an offer for a job I've agreed to take that will allow me to do work that is better aligned with my strengths and is significantly more money and benefits.
I have wondered to myself a number of times what would have happened if I'd quit this job years ago. Did I just need to trust myself enough to know I would land on my feet for the Universe to support me? Although we will never know, I am guessing that is true.
After a dry spell, my date life is picking up again, too. No great loves on the horizon. What I've started noticing that if a man doesn't treat me the way I expect to be treated, I trust myself enough to just walk away (once in the middle of dinner) rather than politely tolerating unacceptable behavior.
One of my favorite rom-com movies is "The Holiday." In it, Iris, played by Kate Winslet, has been a doormat for her "former" boyfriend. Although he is in a relationship with another woman, he uses Iris when it is convenient for him. Iris encounters an octogenarian screenwriter, who "assigns" her movie watching of classic films with strong female leads.
Soon her boyfriend is once again asking her to do something for him again. This time she indignantly refuses. "What's gotten into you, Iris?" he asks. Stopped in her tracks for a split second, Iris hesitates before saying, "I think it is something resembling gumption."
"Gumption" isn't a word I hear often these days. Yet that is what I am finding seems to come in the wake of self-trust. When I know what is right for me in my heart, and when I act on what I know is true, the gumption part seems to come easily. Gumption isn't arrogant: it feels to me like a deep, peaceful truth that wells up inside of me, offering a sense of strength and focus that I haven't been conscious of for a while.
Trust, you see, is a lot like a hug: you have to give it to get it. Once I started trusting myself with the truth of my heart, the Universe has trusted me enough to support me in my truth. Can there be much more?
All of a sudden, it feels like I am in the final moments of giving birth. I still don't really know where it is going, but I do know that I've learned a huge amount about myself and life over the last few months. Whatever is coming feels like I've taken a quantum leap in the cycle of spirit growth.
In the process of doing some "cleaning up of the past" so that I can really move forward, I stumbled onto "self-trust" as an issue. It ends up that the whole self-trust thing has come up before. 20-plus years ago, I had a cranial-sacral session in which the practitioner said, "You have self-trust issues." I was indignant.
My integrity is critical to me. I wouldn't/couldn't lie, cheat or steal. I am the girl who argued about the integrity of exceeding the speed limit by 5 miles an hour even if everyone else was doing it. How could I have self-trust issues? But self-trust...even trust...is more than that. In fact, integrity is much more than not lying, cheating, or stealing. As soon as I was able to break through my self-righteousness after each of these messages about self-trust, everywhere I turned I was able to see lack of self-trust.
Integrity derives from the same Greek root as "integer"--a whole number. Being in integrity is being true to who you know you are in your heart. Self-trust is acting in accord with that "soul's intention" for your life. Sometimes I've been very good at acting in alignment with my truth, but I admit that in recent years more often than not I've more reliably acting in accord with what the world around me has expected of me.
The world around me tells me that financial success, a well-founded retirement, and increasingly higher status jobs is "success," but I've really know that wasn't my definition of success. Why have I tolerated a job and superiors who treat me so disrespectfully for years? Do I not trust myself to do the things that I know are right for me? For that matter, why is it that I can't keep my intentions to avoid sugar, or to write this blog, or to meditate everyday? Those are the intentions that I know to be true to my heart.
Several months ago I mustered the courage to tell my boss I was quitting at the end of the summer...without another job in hand. That was integrity and self-trust. I gave a long notice because I needed that time to make sure current projects were either complete or at the stage of development at which they could be handed off to someone else. Taking good care of clients I love was integrity. I couldn't have trusted myself if I'd done less.
As the weeks passed I found myself dragging my feet. I kept saying the words but inside me I was afraid I couldn't do it.
In June I began to feel a real physical exhaustion. Why, I asked myself, had I not planned to leave sooner? Two things occurred about the same time that reinforced my decision to leave, and they were the final straws. Suddenly I was like the proverbial horse headed for the barn. I may not know what was at the end of the tunnel, but I was sure it would be better. Almost overnight, I felt a super-charged sense of self-efficacy. In retrospect, I had recognized my ability to come out on top... whatever life presented me. I finally trusted myself. Whoo-hoo!
The Universe was very affirming. Almost as soon as I got really clear that I was going to come out better however I came out, things started popping. I had two interviews in a week for a job I'd applied for in February. The founder of a new consulting firm called and began salary negotiation for an executive position. I attended a conference and a professional meeting and walked away from both with several leads on contract work if I decided to go independent. All of this is 10 days time. Within another week, I had an offer for a job I've agreed to take that will allow me to do work that is better aligned with my strengths and is significantly more money and benefits.
I have wondered to myself a number of times what would have happened if I'd quit this job years ago. Did I just need to trust myself enough to know I would land on my feet for the Universe to support me? Although we will never know, I am guessing that is true.
After a dry spell, my date life is picking up again, too. No great loves on the horizon. What I've started noticing that if a man doesn't treat me the way I expect to be treated, I trust myself enough to just walk away (once in the middle of dinner) rather than politely tolerating unacceptable behavior.
One of my favorite rom-com movies is "The Holiday." In it, Iris, played by Kate Winslet, has been a doormat for her "former" boyfriend. Although he is in a relationship with another woman, he uses Iris when it is convenient for him. Iris encounters an octogenarian screenwriter, who "assigns" her movie watching of classic films with strong female leads.
Soon her boyfriend is once again asking her to do something for him again. This time she indignantly refuses. "What's gotten into you, Iris?" he asks. Stopped in her tracks for a split second, Iris hesitates before saying, "I think it is something resembling gumption."
"Gumption" isn't a word I hear often these days. Yet that is what I am finding seems to come in the wake of self-trust. When I know what is right for me in my heart, and when I act on what I know is true, the gumption part seems to come easily. Gumption isn't arrogant: it feels to me like a deep, peaceful truth that wells up inside of me, offering a sense of strength and focus that I haven't been conscious of for a while.
Trust, you see, is a lot like a hug: you have to give it to get it. Once I started trusting myself with the truth of my heart, the Universe has trusted me enough to support me in my truth. Can there be much more?
Sunday, July 24, 2016
Boundaries
Washington is in the middle of a week of brutally hot weather, exceeding 100 degrees and shattering long-standing records. With the humidity, our heat indices have been even more relentless. Yet this morning I've been quite comfortably luxuriating on my north-facing balcony with a slight breeze. I breakfasted outdoors, a guilty pleasure I've enjoyed most of my adult life. As I did so, I found my mind drifting back to several patios, decks, and balconies on which I had breakfasted and to the friends with whom I had shared stories and laughed as we ate.
Before eating, I had finished a novel that I started a month ago on my staycation. In it the main characters started the book as boys, and by the end, they had become old men with failing eyesight. The book left me in a reflective space, which may have spawned my breakfast reverie. I've been thinking about this post for some time. For once I am not going to use the excuse of no time to write. If you had asked I wouldn't have known why I hadn't written, but this morning I know that I just hadn't had enough perspective.
I believe the expression "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear" came from the I Ching, but I also believe that a number of Eastern philosophies hold something similar to be true. During my outdoor breakfast contemplation this morning, the pieces began to fall into place for me. I, as the student, must be ready because lots of opportunities to learn a similar lesson have appeared.
During my four-month detail last fall and early winter, I became keenly aware that my life had spun totally out of control in recent years--to the extent that my physical and mental health were being compromised and my relationships were back-burnered, awaiting that precious "time" for nurturing. Certainly, time for writing, which really nourishes my soul, had become a low priority. I fell asleep from exhaustion when I tried to meditate. I had to be away from my long-standing, abusive work environment to get the perspective to recognize that.
In those treasured four months, I was able to see what had evaded me for so long. In my situation I had lost either the self-respect or the self-confidence to set and stick to my boundaries. When I returned to my permanent job, I wrote in big block letters with a box around them on the whiteboard behind my desk, where I looked at it every time I entered my office, "boundary clarity."
In a matter of days, I was tested. An unsustainable level of dark work again began flowing at me from very high places. Encouraged by my "boundary clarity" reminder, I began telling my clients that I would work with them, but it would be three months, four months, and even five months later. I brought in a contractor to do work with one client organization, which had needs that wouldn't wait. Still, the darkness and the volume of the work were too much.
Within a month I knew something had to change. After several conversations with my new boss, it became clear that the organization was more concerned about keeping my very senior customers happy than in keeping me healthy and happy. No relief would be coming, but I was assured that I was very good at this work. After an unusually frightening dream about the same time, I knew I had to leave. I began the process of planning for an end-of-the-summer departure. I was quite transparent with my boss and his boss about planning for an August separation.
I had no other job from which to make money, and I really need serious income for several years yet I knew I needed to take care of myself. My friends worried a bit more than I did about how I would live, but as soon as I got very clear about needing to move on, I had faith that something would work out. My big focus was on getting my clients, most of whom I'd worked with for years, to a good transition point. I learned about a month ago that the boss didn't really think I'd go, but he obviously doesn't know my courage when my spiritual path has become clear to me, and it had become very clear to me.
As soon as I had become very clear, out of the blue I received a call from a potential employer. Job announcements began falling into my email inbox with regularity. Even USAJobs, which has seldom had appropriate jobs, sent me a promising vacancy announcement. I am now just five weeks from my departure date, and I have two very strong prospects, each of which allows me to work in my "sweet spot," and each of which will be a significant increase in income. Perhaps as encouraging is that along the way as I networked with former bosses and colleagues, I found great sources for independent contract work.
In parallel, I realized how my work situation has made me unavailable for time with friends and even to pursue a primary relationship. In fact, for the first time in a long time, I added up how many years it had been since I'd had more than a date or two with someone. It wasn't an acceptable number. I began focusing my intention on at least meeting some men. I had first dates with people I would have just checked off my list a year ago. Most of them weren't serious prospects, but I was at least getting out and sending the Universe a message that I was serious.
Along the way, something else happened. While I just didn't have much in common with most of these men, there was another category. The only way I can describe them is "Really?!" The one who pronounced that he had two other women in his life but would like to add others. "Really?!" There was one who was married but said his wife was OK with him dating others. "Really?!" Last week, there was one who seriously treated me like a child. "Really?!" I wanted to add, "What do I look like?" but the truth is, I probably looked like a doormat, both at work and in my personal life.
I like to be nice to people. If I have ever been rude, it was either because I was tired or didn't realize what I was doing. In each of these cases, I just walked out. The last one in the middle of dinner at a famous-chef restaurant that I really love. As a serious foodie, that should have been hard, but it wasn't. Following each of these, someone more interesting followed. I'm still not there yet, but...progress.
In the 2006 movie "The Holiday," one of two female leads, Iris, played by Kate Winslet, has also been down on her confidence and has allowed her former boyfriend to walk all over her. In the movie, she meets an octogenarian, who is former screenwriter. He begins "assigning" her movie viewing of classic films, all of which have strong women leads. After said boyfriend crosses the line yet one more time, she kicks him out of her life. He is incredulous. "What's gotten into you, Iris?" he asks.
After a pause, she replies, "I think it is something resembling gumption." And, away she sends him.
As I've been contemplating this post over the last few weeks, that scene and those words have played over and again in my mind. Where did my gumption go, and more importantly, how did I let it go. I have been a strong woman most of my adult life. Anyone who has known me before this century would certainly have laughed at the thought that I didn't have confidence. A former dance partner once remarked (paraphrased for the general audience) "You have more moxie than any man I know."
"Where did it go?" is still a question I ponder, but mostly, I don't care. What I am passionate about is sustaining it into what feels to me like the next phase of my life--one that promises to be the best ever.
While both personally and professionally my life has been about helping others, I now know that I can't sustain my help for others if I don't take care of my first. How many coaching clients have I reminded that the airlines always warn us to put the oxygen mask over our own faces before attempting to help children around us. On this turn of the hero's journey, I've gotten this lesson differently than I had before. Saying "Sorry, I can't help me, I need to take care of myself," really is uncomfortable to even consider, but, whatever comes next, that is a clear boundary that I must enforce.
Before eating, I had finished a novel that I started a month ago on my staycation. In it the main characters started the book as boys, and by the end, they had become old men with failing eyesight. The book left me in a reflective space, which may have spawned my breakfast reverie. I've been thinking about this post for some time. For once I am not going to use the excuse of no time to write. If you had asked I wouldn't have known why I hadn't written, but this morning I know that I just hadn't had enough perspective.
I believe the expression "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear" came from the I Ching, but I also believe that a number of Eastern philosophies hold something similar to be true. During my outdoor breakfast contemplation this morning, the pieces began to fall into place for me. I, as the student, must be ready because lots of opportunities to learn a similar lesson have appeared.
During my four-month detail last fall and early winter, I became keenly aware that my life had spun totally out of control in recent years--to the extent that my physical and mental health were being compromised and my relationships were back-burnered, awaiting that precious "time" for nurturing. Certainly, time for writing, which really nourishes my soul, had become a low priority. I fell asleep from exhaustion when I tried to meditate. I had to be away from my long-standing, abusive work environment to get the perspective to recognize that.
In those treasured four months, I was able to see what had evaded me for so long. In my situation I had lost either the self-respect or the self-confidence to set and stick to my boundaries. When I returned to my permanent job, I wrote in big block letters with a box around them on the whiteboard behind my desk, where I looked at it every time I entered my office, "boundary clarity."
In a matter of days, I was tested. An unsustainable level of dark work again began flowing at me from very high places. Encouraged by my "boundary clarity" reminder, I began telling my clients that I would work with them, but it would be three months, four months, and even five months later. I brought in a contractor to do work with one client organization, which had needs that wouldn't wait. Still, the darkness and the volume of the work were too much.
Within a month I knew something had to change. After several conversations with my new boss, it became clear that the organization was more concerned about keeping my very senior customers happy than in keeping me healthy and happy. No relief would be coming, but I was assured that I was very good at this work. After an unusually frightening dream about the same time, I knew I had to leave. I began the process of planning for an end-of-the-summer departure. I was quite transparent with my boss and his boss about planning for an August separation.
I had no other job from which to make money, and I really need serious income for several years yet I knew I needed to take care of myself. My friends worried a bit more than I did about how I would live, but as soon as I got very clear about needing to move on, I had faith that something would work out. My big focus was on getting my clients, most of whom I'd worked with for years, to a good transition point. I learned about a month ago that the boss didn't really think I'd go, but he obviously doesn't know my courage when my spiritual path has become clear to me, and it had become very clear to me.
As soon as I had become very clear, out of the blue I received a call from a potential employer. Job announcements began falling into my email inbox with regularity. Even USAJobs, which has seldom had appropriate jobs, sent me a promising vacancy announcement. I am now just five weeks from my departure date, and I have two very strong prospects, each of which allows me to work in my "sweet spot," and each of which will be a significant increase in income. Perhaps as encouraging is that along the way as I networked with former bosses and colleagues, I found great sources for independent contract work.
In parallel, I realized how my work situation has made me unavailable for time with friends and even to pursue a primary relationship. In fact, for the first time in a long time, I added up how many years it had been since I'd had more than a date or two with someone. It wasn't an acceptable number. I began focusing my intention on at least meeting some men. I had first dates with people I would have just checked off my list a year ago. Most of them weren't serious prospects, but I was at least getting out and sending the Universe a message that I was serious.
Along the way, something else happened. While I just didn't have much in common with most of these men, there was another category. The only way I can describe them is "Really?!" The one who pronounced that he had two other women in his life but would like to add others. "Really?!" There was one who was married but said his wife was OK with him dating others. "Really?!" Last week, there was one who seriously treated me like a child. "Really?!" I wanted to add, "What do I look like?" but the truth is, I probably looked like a doormat, both at work and in my personal life.
I like to be nice to people. If I have ever been rude, it was either because I was tired or didn't realize what I was doing. In each of these cases, I just walked out. The last one in the middle of dinner at a famous-chef restaurant that I really love. As a serious foodie, that should have been hard, but it wasn't. Following each of these, someone more interesting followed. I'm still not there yet, but...progress.
In the 2006 movie "The Holiday," one of two female leads, Iris, played by Kate Winslet, has also been down on her confidence and has allowed her former boyfriend to walk all over her. In the movie, she meets an octogenarian, who is former screenwriter. He begins "assigning" her movie viewing of classic films, all of which have strong women leads. After said boyfriend crosses the line yet one more time, she kicks him out of her life. He is incredulous. "What's gotten into you, Iris?" he asks.
After a pause, she replies, "I think it is something resembling gumption." And, away she sends him.
As I've been contemplating this post over the last few weeks, that scene and those words have played over and again in my mind. Where did my gumption go, and more importantly, how did I let it go. I have been a strong woman most of my adult life. Anyone who has known me before this century would certainly have laughed at the thought that I didn't have confidence. A former dance partner once remarked (paraphrased for the general audience) "You have more moxie than any man I know."
"Where did it go?" is still a question I ponder, but mostly, I don't care. What I am passionate about is sustaining it into what feels to me like the next phase of my life--one that promises to be the best ever.
While both personally and professionally my life has been about helping others, I now know that I can't sustain my help for others if I don't take care of my first. How many coaching clients have I reminded that the airlines always warn us to put the oxygen mask over our own faces before attempting to help children around us. On this turn of the hero's journey, I've gotten this lesson differently than I had before. Saying "Sorry, I can't help me, I need to take care of myself," really is uncomfortable to even consider, but, whatever comes next, that is a clear boundary that I must enforce.
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Let It Be Easy
Integrity is very important to me. Maybe it is the most important thing to me. Integrity is not simple honesty, which is also important, but it is much bigger than that.
For me, integrity is knowing my soul's intentions when I came into the world and then living those intentions. I know the spiritual growth lessons that I came into the world to learn. I know at least several gifts and talents that I have been given to develop and use. I also have a sense of the service that I am here to do, although I confess that isn't nearly as clear as I thought it was 20 years ago. When my life is aligned with those things, I am in integrity. When I am not, the weight of the disconnect weighs on me.
I try. I really try to live in integrity, but I know that I fall short. Sometimes I fall woefully short.
What I notice is that the more I am out of alignment in one area, the more I become out of integrity in other places. Returning to my regular job has been struggle for me. I know I am being of service, but the work I am doing is pulling me down. I feel stressed. I know I am not working anywhere close to my capability, and I do fear that I am losing my edge to do my higher skill work. Then, I am irritable with myself and with others. Even though I am being of service, I really feel out of integrity.
Even though I've just been back for three weeks of work, I feel a heaviness descend on me when I am getting ready for work, and as I approach my office building I feel more and more darkness pulling me down. The work is really dark. Some days I want to come home and take a shower just to wash it off of me. While I was also sick last week, which complicated the issue, I was short with two people who have been nothing but nice to me. That really felt out of integrity.
I do feel that learning to do my work in the world and to financially support myself is one of my life lessons. Yet increasingly I think that it must be easier. I now think that a life lesson for me must be to let it be easy. I have one of those Staples "easy buttons" from the 90s on my desk. When I allow myself to let something be easy, I enjoy hitting it and hearing the message, "That was easy!" I admit I don't hear it often enough, mostly because I "effort" too much--try to make things happen, when they obviously don't want to happen. The drive to support myself overwhelms and forces me to push more and harder.
Since I began writing about intention 20 years ago, I have really felt like it was my responsibility to role model integrity. Sometimes the standards to which I hold myself are insufferable. I am exhausted. I really need it to be easy.
Based on my numerologic spiritual lesson for 2016, my work is to learn balance and to take care of myself first: put the oxygen mask on me before trying to save others. Twice this week I'd had to make decisions to not do something I thought I "should" do. In each case, as soon as the deed was done, I felt more relaxed, lighter, brighter. In the one case when that occurred at work, I received compliments all day about how great I looked...and it wasn't even a good hair day. I am sure those observations were a reflection of the stress being drained from my face.
All of these things are what a colleague of mine describes as "good data." Who says that "data" should be quantifiable? Why can relaxed muscles and lack of stress in my smile be valid data as well? So I take a deep breath, really consciously enjoy the relaxed shoulders and jaw, and embrace the challenge of letting it be easy.
For me, integrity is knowing my soul's intentions when I came into the world and then living those intentions. I know the spiritual growth lessons that I came into the world to learn. I know at least several gifts and talents that I have been given to develop and use. I also have a sense of the service that I am here to do, although I confess that isn't nearly as clear as I thought it was 20 years ago. When my life is aligned with those things, I am in integrity. When I am not, the weight of the disconnect weighs on me.
I try. I really try to live in integrity, but I know that I fall short. Sometimes I fall woefully short.
What I notice is that the more I am out of alignment in one area, the more I become out of integrity in other places. Returning to my regular job has been struggle for me. I know I am being of service, but the work I am doing is pulling me down. I feel stressed. I know I am not working anywhere close to my capability, and I do fear that I am losing my edge to do my higher skill work. Then, I am irritable with myself and with others. Even though I am being of service, I really feel out of integrity.
Even though I've just been back for three weeks of work, I feel a heaviness descend on me when I am getting ready for work, and as I approach my office building I feel more and more darkness pulling me down. The work is really dark. Some days I want to come home and take a shower just to wash it off of me. While I was also sick last week, which complicated the issue, I was short with two people who have been nothing but nice to me. That really felt out of integrity.
I do feel that learning to do my work in the world and to financially support myself is one of my life lessons. Yet increasingly I think that it must be easier. I now think that a life lesson for me must be to let it be easy. I have one of those Staples "easy buttons" from the 90s on my desk. When I allow myself to let something be easy, I enjoy hitting it and hearing the message, "That was easy!" I admit I don't hear it often enough, mostly because I "effort" too much--try to make things happen, when they obviously don't want to happen. The drive to support myself overwhelms and forces me to push more and harder.
Since I began writing about intention 20 years ago, I have really felt like it was my responsibility to role model integrity. Sometimes the standards to which I hold myself are insufferable. I am exhausted. I really need it to be easy.
Based on my numerologic spiritual lesson for 2016, my work is to learn balance and to take care of myself first: put the oxygen mask on me before trying to save others. Twice this week I'd had to make decisions to not do something I thought I "should" do. In each case, as soon as the deed was done, I felt more relaxed, lighter, brighter. In the one case when that occurred at work, I received compliments all day about how great I looked...and it wasn't even a good hair day. I am sure those observations were a reflection of the stress being drained from my face.
All of these things are what a colleague of mine describes as "good data." Who says that "data" should be quantifiable? Why can relaxed muscles and lack of stress in my smile be valid data as well? So I take a deep breath, really consciously enjoy the relaxed shoulders and jaw, and embrace the challenge of letting it be easy.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Can I Be Trusted?
Friday afternoon I was irritable with my colleague, and she happens to be the best teammate I've ever had at work. I was angry with myself for being unpleasant, but I was more angry for not being me. For a while I stewed over it: what was wrong with me? Then I realized what it was.
Like a bolt out of the blue, it came to me: I was resisting giving up the last vestiges of my integrity. The resistance--the fight to maintain who I know myself to be in my heart--had weakened me. Over the last couple of years, slowly I've carved away almost every part of me that I've felt to be right and true. Those who have read this blog for a while will know that I have struggled with eating sugar and a host of desires that sugar triggers. I have grappled with gradually carving exercise from my life. I have fought for time and energy to write...this blog and other things. I have strained to figure out how I could do all the work expected of me and still work a reasonable number of hours. All of these are things I know to be for me: they are important to my health, my life, and my integrity--who I know I am...in my heart.
So it is that yesterday, I sat at my desk in near tears trying to figure out how I could do 30 hours worth of work in the four hours that were left. Well, that isn't quite right: I'd been off the clock for nine or ten hours by then, but it was still the normal work day. "I am killing myself!" I thought. Just as surely as if I were to pull out a gun, the way I've abused my body, mind, and spirit is killing me.
Although I should have done so, I didn't bring work home this weekend. I have no idea how I will get everything done that I need to do for next week but, as the afore-referenced colleague has said, we've grown accustomed to almost no preparation for the string of events which we orchestrate. Somehow, I am sure I will figure this out...or I won't, but something must change. I need the rest. I need renewal. I need time to heal. I need my creativity.
A funny thought drifted into my mind. Over 20 years ago, I was having a session with a cranial-sacral therapist. I am not sure exactly what that is. The practitioner held my head in his hands and, for lack of a better term, rotated it gently for an hour or so. I had struggled for several years with pain following an accident. The total relaxation that I experienced in the "treatment" eased my discomfort.
One day at the end of the session, he said to me, "You have self-trust issues."
As much as I could do so in the state of total relaxation, I wriggled my face and wrinkled my brow a little. I thought he was nuts. Yesterday, I knew he was right. I couldn't trust myself: I couldn't trust myself to do what I know I need. Admitting this part should change things, right? Just stop all those self-destructive behaviors in which I've been engaging.
I've actually drawn a line in the sand several times. I would work these crazy hours until a long-promised new team member arrives. That was a process that started last October...almost a year ago. We've heard a number of dates when the person was supposed to be here: March, May, June, July, August, September. Two days ago the date we were told it will be October 6. With each new date, I took a deep breath and put my nose down to continue for just a month or two more. I've committed to some clients through the end of September, but I will not do this any more.
In the meantime, I am going to start taking those exercise lunches that have fallen away. Tomorrow I will dispose of the "healthy junk food," which has slipped into my kitchen. I commit to writing this blog more regularly and resuming regular attendance at dance events at least once a week. These small steps won't reverse the damage, but at least they will stem the losses and provide me with some resilience.
Hopefully, they will help me begin to restore my trust in me and my integrity, so that I will start to like the person I see in the mirror in the morning. I want to be a person who can be trusted, and if I can't trust myself to do what is right for me, then who else can trust me?
As with every intention, bringing it to life comes in the magnitude of thousands of small choices moving toward what we choose. Do what I need to do in this moment. Then, in the next moment, do what I need to do again. But, to do that I must be conscious--I must be awake, and this work addiction has lulled me back to that place, which the Upanishads calls "the sleeping place that men call waking."
That's all there is to it: stay awake. Of course, the Upanishads were written between 800 and 400 BC! This is a battle that humankind has been fighting for a very long time, apparently with limited success. I won't worry about that. I am confident that I will not change the course of human history by going to exercise classes and dances, cleaning out my junk food, and writing this blog. I don't need to change the course of human history. I just need to change my life...in this moment...and the next...and the next.
Like a bolt out of the blue, it came to me: I was resisting giving up the last vestiges of my integrity. The resistance--the fight to maintain who I know myself to be in my heart--had weakened me. Over the last couple of years, slowly I've carved away almost every part of me that I've felt to be right and true. Those who have read this blog for a while will know that I have struggled with eating sugar and a host of desires that sugar triggers. I have grappled with gradually carving exercise from my life. I have fought for time and energy to write...this blog and other things. I have strained to figure out how I could do all the work expected of me and still work a reasonable number of hours. All of these are things I know to be for me: they are important to my health, my life, and my integrity--who I know I am...in my heart.
So it is that yesterday, I sat at my desk in near tears trying to figure out how I could do 30 hours worth of work in the four hours that were left. Well, that isn't quite right: I'd been off the clock for nine or ten hours by then, but it was still the normal work day. "I am killing myself!" I thought. Just as surely as if I were to pull out a gun, the way I've abused my body, mind, and spirit is killing me.
Although I should have done so, I didn't bring work home this weekend. I have no idea how I will get everything done that I need to do for next week but, as the afore-referenced colleague has said, we've grown accustomed to almost no preparation for the string of events which we orchestrate. Somehow, I am sure I will figure this out...or I won't, but something must change. I need the rest. I need renewal. I need time to heal. I need my creativity.
A funny thought drifted into my mind. Over 20 years ago, I was having a session with a cranial-sacral therapist. I am not sure exactly what that is. The practitioner held my head in his hands and, for lack of a better term, rotated it gently for an hour or so. I had struggled for several years with pain following an accident. The total relaxation that I experienced in the "treatment" eased my discomfort.
One day at the end of the session, he said to me, "You have self-trust issues."
As much as I could do so in the state of total relaxation, I wriggled my face and wrinkled my brow a little. I thought he was nuts. Yesterday, I knew he was right. I couldn't trust myself: I couldn't trust myself to do what I know I need. Admitting this part should change things, right? Just stop all those self-destructive behaviors in which I've been engaging.
I've actually drawn a line in the sand several times. I would work these crazy hours until a long-promised new team member arrives. That was a process that started last October...almost a year ago. We've heard a number of dates when the person was supposed to be here: March, May, June, July, August, September. Two days ago the date we were told it will be October 6. With each new date, I took a deep breath and put my nose down to continue for just a month or two more. I've committed to some clients through the end of September, but I will not do this any more.
In the meantime, I am going to start taking those exercise lunches that have fallen away. Tomorrow I will dispose of the "healthy junk food," which has slipped into my kitchen. I commit to writing this blog more regularly and resuming regular attendance at dance events at least once a week. These small steps won't reverse the damage, but at least they will stem the losses and provide me with some resilience.
Hopefully, they will help me begin to restore my trust in me and my integrity, so that I will start to like the person I see in the mirror in the morning. I want to be a person who can be trusted, and if I can't trust myself to do what is right for me, then who else can trust me?
As with every intention, bringing it to life comes in the magnitude of thousands of small choices moving toward what we choose. Do what I need to do in this moment. Then, in the next moment, do what I need to do again. But, to do that I must be conscious--I must be awake, and this work addiction has lulled me back to that place, which the Upanishads calls "the sleeping place that men call waking."
That's all there is to it: stay awake. Of course, the Upanishads were written between 800 and 400 BC! This is a battle that humankind has been fighting for a very long time, apparently with limited success. I won't worry about that. I am confident that I will not change the course of human history by going to exercise classes and dances, cleaning out my junk food, and writing this blog. I don't need to change the course of human history. I just need to change my life...in this moment...and the next...and the next.
Sunday, June 8, 2014
The Gift That Keeps on Giving
For most of the last 51 months, my supervisor has made my life extremely difficult. To say that at times it has been hell is not an exaggeration. It's not just me. She seems to be an almost-equal opportunity difficult task master. Over that time, I've watched myself go from being a strong, confident, and creative professional to a shrinking violet who has learned to stay under the radar. I've lost my humor and my optimism. By showing up as less than who I really am, I have lost some of my integrity.
Why do I tell you all that? I think it is important for you to understand that relationship before I share what I am about to tell you.
Last Wednesday I said something to my boss in front of others. It was true, and I am sure it was hurtful. As the hours passed, with each I felt more and more guilt and shame. By evening, I had a long talk with myself about who I was and who I wanted to me. The short answer: not like that.
The first thing Thursday morning, I sought out my supervisor, and I apologized. I said I knew what I'd said had been hurtful, and I was very sorry. She accepted my apology with grace. Later in the day she thanked me, and I again said how sorry I had been.
Nothing she had done over the last four years justified my being unkind. My unkindness is about me, not about her. In fact, I think that my ability to not respond in kind in the face of her words and actions has been the mark of the person I choose to be. When I started responding in kind, that is when I lost my ability to be who I choose to be.
What is interesting is what happened at that second meeting: we had what was probably the best conversation we've ever had. Instead of continuing to shrink, my apology had given me the standing to be fully present in our meeting. I shared some things that had been on my heart for a long time. I told her how limiting my job has become. She listened.
I am not sure what forgiveness means in this context. I have certainly not forgotten all the injustices I've suffered at her hand. However, I am tired of this relationship as it has been. In fact, I am tired. The environment in which my team works is exhausting, and work that used to exhilarate me now leaves me drained. I am also tired of leaving my stuff at home every day. Dumbing down doesn't suit me, and it is totally out of character and integrity. In this situation, I think that forgiveness means clearing the air so that I may fully show up again.
Some would say she doesn't deserve it. In retrospect, I don't think I did it for her. I did it for me. I offered her an olive branch because I didn't like that I was becoming like her. I didn't like that I was showing up out of character and integrity. Since my Thursday afternoon meeting, I have recalled a quote, "Forgiveness is the gift you give yourself." I don't know who the original source is, but I've seen it work time and again with clients. This week I saw it work for me.
Perhaps what forgiveness does for us is remind us that we've all done something at some time that we were not proud of. My sharpness with my boss on Wednesday morning was a knife in me, reminding me of who I was becoming, and I didn't like it. By recognizing that my own imperfections, I was humbled to accept her own. It has been a tortuous route to a level playing field, but I hope we have finally arrived.
Why do I tell you all that? I think it is important for you to understand that relationship before I share what I am about to tell you.
Last Wednesday I said something to my boss in front of others. It was true, and I am sure it was hurtful. As the hours passed, with each I felt more and more guilt and shame. By evening, I had a long talk with myself about who I was and who I wanted to me. The short answer: not like that.
The first thing Thursday morning, I sought out my supervisor, and I apologized. I said I knew what I'd said had been hurtful, and I was very sorry. She accepted my apology with grace. Later in the day she thanked me, and I again said how sorry I had been.
Nothing she had done over the last four years justified my being unkind. My unkindness is about me, not about her. In fact, I think that my ability to not respond in kind in the face of her words and actions has been the mark of the person I choose to be. When I started responding in kind, that is when I lost my ability to be who I choose to be.
What is interesting is what happened at that second meeting: we had what was probably the best conversation we've ever had. Instead of continuing to shrink, my apology had given me the standing to be fully present in our meeting. I shared some things that had been on my heart for a long time. I told her how limiting my job has become. She listened.
I am not sure what forgiveness means in this context. I have certainly not forgotten all the injustices I've suffered at her hand. However, I am tired of this relationship as it has been. In fact, I am tired. The environment in which my team works is exhausting, and work that used to exhilarate me now leaves me drained. I am also tired of leaving my stuff at home every day. Dumbing down doesn't suit me, and it is totally out of character and integrity. In this situation, I think that forgiveness means clearing the air so that I may fully show up again.
Some would say she doesn't deserve it. In retrospect, I don't think I did it for her. I did it for me. I offered her an olive branch because I didn't like that I was becoming like her. I didn't like that I was showing up out of character and integrity. Since my Thursday afternoon meeting, I have recalled a quote, "Forgiveness is the gift you give yourself." I don't know who the original source is, but I've seen it work time and again with clients. This week I saw it work for me.
Perhaps what forgiveness does for us is remind us that we've all done something at some time that we were not proud of. My sharpness with my boss on Wednesday morning was a knife in me, reminding me of who I was becoming, and I didn't like it. By recognizing that my own imperfections, I was humbled to accept her own. It has been a tortuous route to a level playing field, but I hope we have finally arrived.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
A New Year
Happy 2014! I hope your first day was as good as mine was.
I did my new year's meditation and got some simple and clear advice:
-Begin exercising at least 5 times a week. (For years it was 7!)
-Reclaim my writer: be conscious of every opportunity to move out on writing
-Eat the way my body tells me to eat (Did that for years too, but I have slipped during 2013.)
Those intentions are promises I make and will keep: my integrity depends on it. (See yesterday's post.)
So, that was how my year started. I walked 90 minutes in three stints. I ate healthfully. I explored a writing contest and a new job that will involve writing more. I spent quality time with friends, and we all ate healthfully and even took a brisk walk together mid-day. I love this!
I did my new year's meditation and got some simple and clear advice:
-Begin exercising at least 5 times a week. (For years it was 7!)
-Reclaim my writer: be conscious of every opportunity to move out on writing
-Eat the way my body tells me to eat (Did that for years too, but I have slipped during 2013.)
Those intentions are promises I make and will keep: my integrity depends on it. (See yesterday's post.)
So, that was how my year started. I walked 90 minutes in three stints. I ate healthfully. I explored a writing contest and a new job that will involve writing more. I spent quality time with friends, and we all ate healthfully and even took a brisk walk together mid-day. I love this!
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Ready for New Beginnings
I stopped making resolutions several years ago: they had almost become a joke. The gym would be packed the first week of January, quite busy the second, and by the third week, things would be pretty much back to normal, exemplifying the seriousness with which most people take their plans for the new year. By March, most people don't even remember what their resolutions even were. I rarely see much resolve in resolutions.
However, I also feel like it is my responsibility to become a more complete person. That isn't the work of a single day or night but of every day of the year. I set intentions--sign posts, if you will, for qualities that I want to bring into my life. Then, daily...or more frequently...I consciously ask myself what I should do that is aligned with all of my intentions. Every action is a choice point that is either aligned with my intentions or isn't.
I find New Year's to be a particularly good time to assess (see yesterday's post) how I am doing and to determine where I will bring more focus to my intentions in the year ahead. I generally take a few hours to meditate on my life on either New Year's Eve or New Year's Day. It was the result of such a meditation last year that brought me the six words that I wrote about yesterday: love, laughter, health, happiness, wealth, and wisdom.
I had been pondering what I should write that would help my readers bring more seriousness to their resolutions or intentions, when I heard a radio interview during my walk yesterday. The interview was with a man named Alex Sheen, who is founder of "Because I said I would." The focus of Sheen's work is that when we make promises, we should keep them. If we promise to quit smoking or lose 20 pounds in the new year, we should treat that as a serious promise. I like that concept.
One of the reasons that I am so meditative about my intentions is because for me they are commitments or promises. In The Game Called Life I wrote a whole chapter about commitment, which is aligned with "Because I said I would." Each day we make commitments, often without thinking about what we are committing to, whether we will keep them, or even what would be involved in keeping them. Many of them slide off into oblivion, like our New Year's resolutions.
Whether you call it a commitment or a promise, our ability to stay in integrity with what we say we will do is about who we are. If I make a promise or a commitment, I should consider it seriously beforehand. What will it require of me to keep the commitment? What will I have to give up in order to keep the commitment? Are there more important commitments that will be set aside in order to keep a less important one?
Keeping a commitment, no matter how small or large, is about our personal integrity. It says, "I am a person who can be counted on to do what I say I will do."
In less than an hour a new year will be upon us, and the new year presents a time for new beginnings. As I assess and reflect on the year ahead, I will look at commitments that I have broken in the year past...yes, even slipping back into sugar...again! I will consider thoughtfully what promises I am making to myself, and then I will set my intentions--promises I will keep--for the year ahead. This year instead of a commitment, I think I will consider the intentions I set as promised I am making to me--promises I want to be counted upon for keeping.
I am ready for new beginnings, but really it is just another day in which I have the opportunity to strengthen my integrity and become a more complete person. Happy New Year!
However, I also feel like it is my responsibility to become a more complete person. That isn't the work of a single day or night but of every day of the year. I set intentions--sign posts, if you will, for qualities that I want to bring into my life. Then, daily...or more frequently...I consciously ask myself what I should do that is aligned with all of my intentions. Every action is a choice point that is either aligned with my intentions or isn't.
I find New Year's to be a particularly good time to assess (see yesterday's post) how I am doing and to determine where I will bring more focus to my intentions in the year ahead. I generally take a few hours to meditate on my life on either New Year's Eve or New Year's Day. It was the result of such a meditation last year that brought me the six words that I wrote about yesterday: love, laughter, health, happiness, wealth, and wisdom.
I had been pondering what I should write that would help my readers bring more seriousness to their resolutions or intentions, when I heard a radio interview during my walk yesterday. The interview was with a man named Alex Sheen, who is founder of "Because I said I would." The focus of Sheen's work is that when we make promises, we should keep them. If we promise to quit smoking or lose 20 pounds in the new year, we should treat that as a serious promise. I like that concept.
One of the reasons that I am so meditative about my intentions is because for me they are commitments or promises. In The Game Called Life I wrote a whole chapter about commitment, which is aligned with "Because I said I would." Each day we make commitments, often without thinking about what we are committing to, whether we will keep them, or even what would be involved in keeping them. Many of them slide off into oblivion, like our New Year's resolutions.
Whether you call it a commitment or a promise, our ability to stay in integrity with what we say we will do is about who we are. If I make a promise or a commitment, I should consider it seriously beforehand. What will it require of me to keep the commitment? What will I have to give up in order to keep the commitment? Are there more important commitments that will be set aside in order to keep a less important one?
Keeping a commitment, no matter how small or large, is about our personal integrity. It says, "I am a person who can be counted on to do what I say I will do."
In less than an hour a new year will be upon us, and the new year presents a time for new beginnings. As I assess and reflect on the year ahead, I will look at commitments that I have broken in the year past...yes, even slipping back into sugar...again! I will consider thoughtfully what promises I am making to myself, and then I will set my intentions--promises I will keep--for the year ahead. This year instead of a commitment, I think I will consider the intentions I set as promised I am making to me--promises I want to be counted upon for keeping.
I am ready for new beginnings, but really it is just another day in which I have the opportunity to strengthen my integrity and become a more complete person. Happy New Year!
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Pinpricks in My Integrity
When the government closed on the first of October, I pledged that I was using my furlough to reboot my life. I was going to meditate, exercise, and write daily, and I was going to give up sugar. I've done well on the meditation, writing, and exercise (except for one very rainy day.) The sugar has been a real struggle. It's not that sugar is such a bad thing...for most people. For me, sugar is an addiction. Just a little bit and I have to have more: it controls me. It is a slippery slope.
A week ago I made and took a chocolate cake to another function, and I ate it when it was served. There have been other "little cheats." It is the 19th, and I made brownies. I will take them to a function I am attending tomorrow, but I knew when I decided to make them that I'd lick beaters and need to sample to make sure they tasted OK. I lied to myself. In The Game Called Life Lizzie called them pinpricks in her integrity--miniscule lies that we tell ourselves to justify other lies, and, as she continued to say, "I have enough pinpricks in my integrity that if they were all put together they would be as big as the hole in the Titanic."
I debated a friend once about whether it was out of integrity to exceed the speed limit, even if everyone else is driving five miles over the limit too. My argument was that when I applied for a driver's license, I had agreed to obey the laws of the state. That included driving the speed limit, even if almost everyone else was speeding.
Driving the speed limit is a no-brainer for me. I really attempt to act in integrity all the time. I even moved into a house once that already had cable connected, and the former owners had been getting cable service for years without paying for it. I knew it was stealing from the cable company to take the service without paying for it. I went to the cable company, explained the situation, and said I wanted to start paying for it. That was a no-brainer for me, too.
Integrity is the very most important thing to me, and I know that I have not always been in such deep integrity. Yet I really try. I've wrestled with my addiction to sugar for my integrity for years. I'd like to think we all have an Achilles heel--something that nags at us painfully. It really doesn't matter if everyone has something. What matters is that I keep my own commitment to myself.
When I cut the brownies up and put them in a container to take to my function, I started to hold back two, cut in half. I was going to put them in the freezer, and I would have four little desserts I could bring out. That is when I started thinking about the pinpricks in my integrity. I added a second tier to my potluck container and put the ones I was going to hold back in it. I am holding nothing back in this fight.
That brings me back to forgiveness. I slip...on sugar, and on other things. In each moment I face a choice point--a point in time when I am conscious, when I can forgive myself, and when I can start over--choosing to be in integrity. When I tune in to my heart, I know that being in that choice point and choosing consciously, whether it is a 100 times or a 1,000 or 10,000, is how I will galvanize my integrity.
A week ago I made and took a chocolate cake to another function, and I ate it when it was served. There have been other "little cheats." It is the 19th, and I made brownies. I will take them to a function I am attending tomorrow, but I knew when I decided to make them that I'd lick beaters and need to sample to make sure they tasted OK. I lied to myself. In The Game Called Life Lizzie called them pinpricks in her integrity--miniscule lies that we tell ourselves to justify other lies, and, as she continued to say, "I have enough pinpricks in my integrity that if they were all put together they would be as big as the hole in the Titanic."
I debated a friend once about whether it was out of integrity to exceed the speed limit, even if everyone else is driving five miles over the limit too. My argument was that when I applied for a driver's license, I had agreed to obey the laws of the state. That included driving the speed limit, even if almost everyone else was speeding.
Driving the speed limit is a no-brainer for me. I really attempt to act in integrity all the time. I even moved into a house once that already had cable connected, and the former owners had been getting cable service for years without paying for it. I knew it was stealing from the cable company to take the service without paying for it. I went to the cable company, explained the situation, and said I wanted to start paying for it. That was a no-brainer for me, too.
Integrity is the very most important thing to me, and I know that I have not always been in such deep integrity. Yet I really try. I've wrestled with my addiction to sugar for my integrity for years. I'd like to think we all have an Achilles heel--something that nags at us painfully. It really doesn't matter if everyone has something. What matters is that I keep my own commitment to myself.
When I cut the brownies up and put them in a container to take to my function, I started to hold back two, cut in half. I was going to put them in the freezer, and I would have four little desserts I could bring out. That is when I started thinking about the pinpricks in my integrity. I added a second tier to my potluck container and put the ones I was going to hold back in it. I am holding nothing back in this fight.
That brings me back to forgiveness. I slip...on sugar, and on other things. In each moment I face a choice point--a point in time when I am conscious, when I can forgive myself, and when I can start over--choosing to be in integrity. When I tune in to my heart, I know that being in that choice point and choosing consciously, whether it is a 100 times or a 1,000 or 10,000, is how I will galvanize my integrity.
Friday, September 27, 2013
The Truth Will Set Me Free
This post is longer than usual, but spiritual wrestling matches are rarely short and sweet. I hope you will ride this one with me.
Several religious traditions have some concept of God as mystery. I have written and spoken at length about "Not-Knowing" as a place where we know we don't know but we are consciously seeking the Truth. Ambiguity reigns. I've called "Not-Knowing" the most quintessentially spiritual state that we can hold. These ponderings--and they truly are ponderings--come from that place of "Not-Knowing," where I know two things that appear to contradict each other. AND, I have not yet reached a higher level of Truth where I can see how both are true.
Two or three times a year I adopt a few spiritual statements to guide my growth over the next few months. I recently adopted seven new ones. Four I can get my head around, but I am still learning to live them. Three are really stretching me:
I believe it was the I Ching that first said, "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear." Apparently, this student must be ready, because before the ink was dry on my affirmations, my Socratic teacher began presenting questions. Three big questions have presented me with the opportunity (translate that as hard spiritual work) to discover the Truth that will set me free. Lest you think I've gotten there, spirituality is a journey, and right now I have no idea where this one is going.
I've often had people ask me after an address or presentation, "How can you say that someone like Adolf Hitler is Love? How can you say that we should want to connect with him?" Twenty years ago I hadn't really "gotten" exactly how complex and ambiguous the Mystery could be. I would often reply that what Hitler did was horrible. However, because things were so horrible, we now had the United Nations where we could work things out and hold dictators accountable over a conference table instead of a battleground. (OK. I admit that was naïve even in the mid-90s when we thought that global transformation was right around the corner.)
Now, I ponder. There are people who do evil things. Genocide does still exist. Dictators continue to kill their own people. One ethnic group kills another on a massive scale over and again. On a smaller scale, individuals walk in with guns and regularly shoot a dozen others (or more) before they are stopped. Individuals steal pensions or homes from hard-working individuals. Other individuals lie, cheat, and steal to intentionally harm others. Can they and I both be Love?
In my as-yet unpublished book Choice Point--Seven Keys to Living with Intention I quote columnist Tom Ehrich from his "On the Journey" newsletter:
I am a pacifist by nature, and I have opposed most military actions of this government in my life time. I think there can almost always be a better way to resolve a problem than war. Solving violence with more violence has never made sense to me on either a micro or macro level. Violence is self-destructive. From my ribbon of love perspective, violence injures what connects us. When we hurt others, we hurt ourselves. Yet I have been horrified as I have watched several genocides where the world saw fit to do nothing. What are we to do?
The more immediate questions that my teacher has presented are much more personal. The second troubling question was presented almost as quickly when one more mentally ill man who had acquired a gun shot a large number people and did so not very far from where I work and live. It is much easier for me to have compassion for someone with mental illness than it is for all the people that crossed his life (or those of several before him over the last few years) and chose not to show him the compassion to insist he get help. I have to go back to what Arent said. Have all of our consciences stopped working that it is easier to turn the other way than to insist than to get help for someone? And perhaps the bigger question is why it is so difficult to get help for someone before they commit massive acts of violence. If the Truth will set me free, what am I to do with this?
On a much more micro level, the third question my teacher has presented to me is how to relate to a person with whom I must interact almost daily who engages in behaviors which are destructive to others. I am keenly aware of the consequences in saying something: the history and career trajectory of whistleblowers is ugly. Yet the consequences of not saying something is even uglier: think of all the people who lost everything in scandals like Enron and the 2008 financial melt-down.
I am grateful that I have been blessed with extremely high integrity bosses and those business owners that patronized my business were almost always scrupulous about doing the right thing. I don't know if I had just been lucky in the past or if things have changed, but clearly some of the people around me in recent years have been aiming lower.
A few years ago I sat in a meeting and listened to my boss lie to a client. When we walked out of that meeting, she literally looked at my colleague and me and said, "It isn't ever going to happen." When I probed more, "Everyone does it," was the answer. I wrestled with what the right thing to do was, but about that time the client retired and I was offered a different assignment. I started to write that it was easy to just forget. That is not the Truth. I never forgot. That I did nothing and didn't know what to do still eats at my soul.
Just a few months later, the same boss was misrepresenting what we could and would do to my new client. I knew I couldn't continue to work in that environment. I was just beginning to recover from the havoc the dot.com bust had wreaked in my life: I needed the job. I began praying for a door to open, and at warp-speed one did. Within an hour, I had a job offer, and they wanted me as soon as possible. I was able to get out of the situation, but once again the fact that I didn't do anything has eaten at my soul--pinpricks in my integrity is what I called this in The Game Called Life. In both situations people and organizations were hurt. I am certain that I couldn't have stopped the behavior in either case. If I am Love, and my clients are Love, how could I do nothing? A few months later I contacted the second client, met him for lunch, and apologized. He said that he knew it wasn't me. That felt a little better. But I am back to Arent's proposition that multiple consciences have stopped working for us to get to the point that doing bad things is OK if everyone else is doing it.
Once again I am in a situation in which I am witness to bad behavior, don't know in advance to stop it, and observe deaf ears from those who could and should stop it. Ugly personal consequences to me resulted when I attempted to stop it. I could live with those consequences if something changed, but they didn't. Things got worse instead of better.
Thank you, teacher. I am really grateful for this lesson. ;-) How do I act from love and compassion, how do I avoid injury to others including the perpetrator, and how do I feed the ribbon of love in this situation? I am certain the Truth will set me free. Sooner would be nice.
What I know in my heart today is that knowing the right thing to do isn't always apparent or easy, but staying in the Mystery to allow a Higher Level of Truth to become clear will set me free.
Several religious traditions have some concept of God as mystery. I have written and spoken at length about "Not-Knowing" as a place where we know we don't know but we are consciously seeking the Truth. Ambiguity reigns. I've called "Not-Knowing" the most quintessentially spiritual state that we can hold. These ponderings--and they truly are ponderings--come from that place of "Not-Knowing," where I know two things that appear to contradict each other. AND, I have not yet reached a higher level of Truth where I can see how both are true.
Two or three times a year I adopt a few spiritual statements to guide my growth over the next few months. I recently adopted seven new ones. Four I can get my head around, but I am still learning to live them. Three are really stretching me:
- I am Love.
- The Truth is: We are all Love.
- The Truth will set me free.
I believe it was the I Ching that first said, "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear." Apparently, this student must be ready, because before the ink was dry on my affirmations, my Socratic teacher began presenting questions. Three big questions have presented me with the opportunity (translate that as hard spiritual work) to discover the Truth that will set me free. Lest you think I've gotten there, spirituality is a journey, and right now I have no idea where this one is going.
I've often had people ask me after an address or presentation, "How can you say that someone like Adolf Hitler is Love? How can you say that we should want to connect with him?" Twenty years ago I hadn't really "gotten" exactly how complex and ambiguous the Mystery could be. I would often reply that what Hitler did was horrible. However, because things were so horrible, we now had the United Nations where we could work things out and hold dictators accountable over a conference table instead of a battleground. (OK. I admit that was naïve even in the mid-90s when we thought that global transformation was right around the corner.)
Now, I ponder. There are people who do evil things. Genocide does still exist. Dictators continue to kill their own people. One ethnic group kills another on a massive scale over and again. On a smaller scale, individuals walk in with guns and regularly shoot a dozen others (or more) before they are stopped. Individuals steal pensions or homes from hard-working individuals. Other individuals lie, cheat, and steal to intentionally harm others. Can they and I both be Love?
In my as-yet unpublished book Choice Point--Seven Keys to Living with Intention I quote columnist Tom Ehrich from his "On the Journey" newsletter:
"...As Hannah Arent wrote in her disturbing study of Nazi German, that evil empire could not proceed unless evil became banal, or common. For something obviously wrong to proceed, multiple consciences must stop working. Entire communities must grow numb and choose not to see any connection between abusive behavior and oneself."After the recent gassing of 1300 people in Syria, I was incredulous that polls showed that most Americans could see no reason for our involvement. We could only have grown numb and chosen not to see any connection between the chemical attacks and ourselves. (I am delighted that a diplomatic alternative to military action emerged. My issue is that a large percentage of people--70 to 80 percent-- were unable to connect the dots between what was happening in Syria and the harm we were allowing to ourselves as part of the larger human community.)
I am a pacifist by nature, and I have opposed most military actions of this government in my life time. I think there can almost always be a better way to resolve a problem than war. Solving violence with more violence has never made sense to me on either a micro or macro level. Violence is self-destructive. From my ribbon of love perspective, violence injures what connects us. When we hurt others, we hurt ourselves. Yet I have been horrified as I have watched several genocides where the world saw fit to do nothing. What are we to do?
The more immediate questions that my teacher has presented are much more personal. The second troubling question was presented almost as quickly when one more mentally ill man who had acquired a gun shot a large number people and did so not very far from where I work and live. It is much easier for me to have compassion for someone with mental illness than it is for all the people that crossed his life (or those of several before him over the last few years) and chose not to show him the compassion to insist he get help. I have to go back to what Arent said. Have all of our consciences stopped working that it is easier to turn the other way than to insist than to get help for someone? And perhaps the bigger question is why it is so difficult to get help for someone before they commit massive acts of violence. If the Truth will set me free, what am I to do with this?
On a much more micro level, the third question my teacher has presented to me is how to relate to a person with whom I must interact almost daily who engages in behaviors which are destructive to others. I am keenly aware of the consequences in saying something: the history and career trajectory of whistleblowers is ugly. Yet the consequences of not saying something is even uglier: think of all the people who lost everything in scandals like Enron and the 2008 financial melt-down.
I am grateful that I have been blessed with extremely high integrity bosses and those business owners that patronized my business were almost always scrupulous about doing the right thing. I don't know if I had just been lucky in the past or if things have changed, but clearly some of the people around me in recent years have been aiming lower.
A few years ago I sat in a meeting and listened to my boss lie to a client. When we walked out of that meeting, she literally looked at my colleague and me and said, "It isn't ever going to happen." When I probed more, "Everyone does it," was the answer. I wrestled with what the right thing to do was, but about that time the client retired and I was offered a different assignment. I started to write that it was easy to just forget. That is not the Truth. I never forgot. That I did nothing and didn't know what to do still eats at my soul.
Just a few months later, the same boss was misrepresenting what we could and would do to my new client. I knew I couldn't continue to work in that environment. I was just beginning to recover from the havoc the dot.com bust had wreaked in my life: I needed the job. I began praying for a door to open, and at warp-speed one did. Within an hour, I had a job offer, and they wanted me as soon as possible. I was able to get out of the situation, but once again the fact that I didn't do anything has eaten at my soul--pinpricks in my integrity is what I called this in The Game Called Life. In both situations people and organizations were hurt. I am certain that I couldn't have stopped the behavior in either case. If I am Love, and my clients are Love, how could I do nothing? A few months later I contacted the second client, met him for lunch, and apologized. He said that he knew it wasn't me. That felt a little better. But I am back to Arent's proposition that multiple consciences have stopped working for us to get to the point that doing bad things is OK if everyone else is doing it.
Once again I am in a situation in which I am witness to bad behavior, don't know in advance to stop it, and observe deaf ears from those who could and should stop it. Ugly personal consequences to me resulted when I attempted to stop it. I could live with those consequences if something changed, but they didn't. Things got worse instead of better.
Thank you, teacher. I am really grateful for this lesson. ;-) How do I act from love and compassion, how do I avoid injury to others including the perpetrator, and how do I feed the ribbon of love in this situation? I am certain the Truth will set me free. Sooner would be nice.
What I know in my heart today is that knowing the right thing to do isn't always apparent or easy, but staying in the Mystery to allow a Higher Level of Truth to become clear will set me free.
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