Creating a Bullseye

Posted on Wed 10 15 by Lisa Sorensen

13 October 2015

Every decision you make is not a decision about what to do, it is a decision about who you are. — Neal Donald Walsch

Creating a Bullseye

I believe there is an instinctive urge within us to create, and be, our unique selves.  That when we listen to that inner urge, we unfurl satisfaction and develop wisdom.

Doing so can be courageous in a culture that tries on every channel to get us to consume and conform, but I think that the world truly needs us tuning in to our core values and creating lives that reflect them.

creating a bullseyeThis morning in yoga sun salutations, I moved into downward dog.  It’s one of my favorite stretches—the tension of pushing heels gently toward the floor while simultaneously lifting the hips up, up, up, sits-bones rotating ever-so-slightly toward the sky.  All the adjustments are minute in this pose, yet the stretch is intense, activating muscles along the entire back of my body-legs, butt, back, arms, neck.  I love to take this stretch right to the edge of comfort, so it feels good but even a teeny bit more would be too much.  If I’m listening in, my body instinctually knows right when to stop.

This is such a cool place—the leading, growing margin.  Where awareness is tucked right up into the edge of exploration.

It’s easy to think of yoga as a bunch of poses.  Actually, yoga is not the pose.  Yoga is all about the stretch.  But understanding of the pose gives us a target, focuses the attention on a shape and destination.  Meanwhile, the breath helps keep us rooted in the present moment.

To me, yoga is a beautiful analogy for living.  Perhaps anything we are passionate about offers this same motivation—to repeatedly aim for something because it matters to us.

As I got up from the mat, I found myself wondering, what could help me align my days within the shape of my values in the same way a pose provides an objective in yoga.  The image of a bullseye target floated to mind.

A center circle, with radiating concentric rings.  And a few lovely arrows, like a little bonus, already sprouting from the center.

Thinking of those values and the inner urges, could I picture them as parts of that bullseye?  What would land in smack dab in the core?  What in the rings surrounding, and defining, that center?

I began considering my activities, letting loose an arrow in my mind and seeing where it landed.  Some thwanged home, solid and strong, others flew utterly wild.  And others, lost steam immediately, faltering and falling to the ground.

What was I shooting for with that arrow?  What core value was I hoping to hit?

My broad categories include marriage, friendships and community, home, work, creative expression, fitness.  Everyone has a unique assemblage of priorities.  They develop from our upbringing, our experience, our circumstances.  And they also arise from within, from the unique person that we each are.

Reflecting on how our activities align with our objectives, on whether our efforts are hitting the mark or flying into the weeds beyond, helps us improve our ability to live in a way that brings us satisfaction.  It allows us to develop our aim for the qualities we place in the center of our lives.

I’m coming to think of satisfaction as a relationship we can develop.  It includes how we engage with the people, circumstances and events that we encounter.  It’s about how we respond to what we’re given, how we show up to it, how we add to it.

The world is big and overwhelming sometimes.  The possibilities are endless.  But we have little voices, nudging us toward a life full of value.

Each of us can create that target, set our sights on the bullseye and let our arrows fly.

 

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Touchstone – Unexpected Trips

Posted on Fri 10 15 by Lisa Sorensen

9 October 2015

True forgiveness is when you can say, “Thank you for that experience.” ~Oprah Winfrey

unexpected trips

This week I’ve devoted time and attention to healing a tender spot. Although it’s been challenging, there’s been relief in re-examining an old and dank place.  Something I had stuck away emerged, unasked, providing an opportunity for transformation.

In one of my top 20, all-time favorite movies, The Electric Horseman, Robert Redford is a washed-up cowboy and Jane Fonda is the hotshot journalist who trails him into the American west after he steals a priceless race horse.  Fonda’s character, completely out of her element on this unexpected trip into the wild, is anxious to get her news scoop but awkward with the taciturn cowboy and fusses to him that she wants the communication between them to be easier, lighter.  Redford studies her a moment, then picks up the suitcase carrying all her camera gear and tosses it into a stream.  Brushing off his hands, he says to her.  “There.  All lightened up.”

Sometimes I think it can actually be that easy—a matter of identifying a sore spot and directly addressing it.

Other times, it’s grittier.   But it still can be worth it.  Time might now allow us  to be gentler on ourselves.  Or more favorably inclined toward another’s actions or perspectives.

Distance may contain acceptance or peace.  And a dark, raw place can heal a bit.

 

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Unexpected Trips

Posted on Tue 10 15 by Lisa Sorensen

6 October 2015

When you recognize that you will thrive not in spite of your losses and sorrow, but because of them, that you would not have chosen the things that happened in your life, but you are grateful for them, that you will hold the empty bowls eternally in your hands, but you also have the capacity to fill them?  The word for that is healing.                   ~  Cheryl Strayed

unexpected trips

I revisited a very old, very deep wound this week.  I didn’t mean to.  Looking forward  I had no inkling of this.  Looking back there are dots, merely stray events, but, like stars in a constellation, I can make them line up and take shape.  Really though, the dots seemed like random events in random places with random people.  A lot of life is like that.  But then, it’s hard to know the mystery of the workings of the universe.  How do the gears all turn?  Maybe I invited this wound back in subconsciously when I slipped into that fall reverie and took stock of things.  Maybe it was some preordained time.  Maybe I was just unwittingly ready.

For whatever reason, this old baggage zoomed right up into my flight path and took control of the tower.

I resisted it.  I had zero interest in considering that painful time.  It’s well past over and done.  I didn’t see any point.  It was an intrusion I resented.  I had no desire to invest any more time thinking about the way that there never was any resolution.

I kept slipping out of its grip, turning off the course.  And then other little dots would glimmer, lighting up the runway again.

Like we do with many of our wounds, I’d buried this one deep, trying to keep it out of sight.  We have good reasons for this.  Maybe we don’t know how to tend and heal the hurt.  Or, it brings up uncomfortable feelings like powerlessness or outrage or fear.   This week for me, it was the difficulty of facing a particularly poor choice and the blame I’ve felt about that.

It was messy and painful.  There was kicking and screaming.  When I finally stopped resisting, I was face-to-face with hurts that I wanted to just leave alone and move on from.  But I hadn’t moved beyond them.  They were still there, beneath the surface, idling, waiting.

At first, the hurt felt the same, but time has changed me.  I could see the story differently, through wiser eyes with a more compassionate heart.  I was able to ease the blame and self-recrimination I’d heaped on myself so many years ago.  This is the wisdom of the old adage about time healing.

At some point, it dawned on me that my reluctant journey might be a trip of a lifetime.  It turned out to be a gift to stumble over my baggage and wind up face down in it.  Rummaging through it again, I unpacked that suitcase.  Probably not once and for all, but it lightened up significantly.

Honestly, I’d given up on this tender wound.  I’d worked through what I could and put the rest in deep storage.  But that crummy old baggage took me on a new trip, with a more comfortable destination.

I’m glad now for the stars that lined up or the rock in the road, whatever it was.   And grateful for a loving partner and good friendships, the practices of writing and meditation.  Connection and these practices are my ways of coping with and coming to an understanding of life’s lessons.  Knowing who and what you can count on is important because we all need help.  And, we all help each other as we help ourselves.

Every now and then, I believe the stars will open up for us and healing we didn’t anticipate can happen.  If we’re willing, we can both rewrite the past and expand the present.

 

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Touchstone – A Full Pantry

Posted on Fri 10 15 by Lisa Sorensen

2 October 2015

It occurred to me that there were two sets of virtues, the résumé virtues and the eulogy virtues. The résumé virtues are the skills you bring to the marketplace. The eulogy virtues are the ones that are talked about at your funeral — whether you were kind, brave, honest or faithful. Were you capable of deep love?

We all know that the eulogy virtues are more important than the résumé ones. But our culture and our educational systems spend more time teaching the skills and strategies you need for career success than the qualities you need to radiate that sort of inner light. Many of us are clearer on how to build an external career than on how to build inner character. ~David Brooks

A Full Pantry

It’s rained since I wrote my last post about appreciating our pantries.  Fall moved into the earth, the fragrance of moistness a benediction in the dry hills here.   Yesterday, the stark call of a Flicker shot through my window and I glanced up, catching the vivid orange flash of its wings and welcoming its arrival for the cold season.  Plump acorns are rolling under my feet as I run the trails.  The deer chomp them.  The fat-tailed squirrels hide them for later.

All of this is familiar, the natural order as I know it, soothing and grounding me.  There’s comfort in all that.

At the same time, one of the things I love about language is how it can expand the landscape of my thoughts, offering me new territory to roam, new places to investigate and perhaps even inhabit.

The quote above gave me a new way to think about the stores in my pantry.  Eulogy skills.   What do those look like?  What would I want people to say about me after I’m not hiking the hills anymore?  And, what might I do to help those skills flourish?

Skills like generosity.  Wisdom.  Caring.

For me, reflecting on this is not about what anyone will actually say after I’m gone.

It’s all about creating days today that honor what we deeply value.  It’s about tending the pantry of our lives, creating an abundance of the goods on our shelves that bring satisfaction to our hearts.

 

For a touching, intimate view of a man who was so often defined in terms of his résumé, see Mona Simpson’s eulogy for her brother, Steve Jobs, here.

Posted in Satisfaction, Touchstones, Wisdom | Tagged | 2 Comments

A Full Pantry

Posted on Tue 09 15 by Lisa Sorensen

29 September 2015

Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.  ~Mahatma Gandhi

full pantry

 

I love fall.

Here in Northern California, the season has begun tiptoeing in, quietly slipping pomegranates and pumpkins in amongst the tomatoes and peppers at the farmers’ market and subtly shading the treetops in soft yellows and blushing pinks.   I’m already anticipating the parade of fall colors.  It will build and intensify, marching on through Halloween and sailing right past Thanksgiving if a hard stern storm doesn’t bellow through.  Amidst the bounty and the beauty, I’m reminded of change, of impermanence.  It’s a time of harvest and a season that invites reflection.

Which makes it a great time to take stock.  It’s taken me a long time to realize that an important part of taking stock is finding and appreciating our successes.

It’s ridiculously easy to find ourselves lacking.  To sink my teeth into my friend’s amazing buttery tender shortbread and taste my own failures in the bakery department.  Or to listen to a friend’s capable, strong clarity about managing her business and feel an erosion of confidence in my own skills.  Okay, I’m probably less secure than average, but I think I see this a lot.  This week a stranger came up to me to give me a lovely compliment about my fitness, and then launched directly into a list of what she viewed as her physical shortcomings.

After writing about supporting our friends as they stretch into successes, this stranger got me ruminating on how important it is to be friends to ourselves in this same way.

For some reason, it can be hard to pat ourselves on the back.  Did we learn that was over-reaching?  Immodest?  Self-centered?  Did we learn everyone else was too fragile to hear us crow?

Maybe we just didn’t learn that we matter, that we’re adding our bit, and that our bit is very important.

I’ve worn out too many horses thinking it might be possible to always look good and say the wise thing if I just tried hard enough.  Now, I want to add my honest bit and hear your honest bit.  Now I know those authentic bits, which may feel insignificant at times or overwhelming at others, are a huge gift in life.

A gift that opens the door to so much that deeply matters.

As this season’s beauty sifts into me, I’m appreciating the glory of life and poignantly sensing the passing of time.  This combination both calms me and stirs me up.  I want to get out and scuff my feet through the leaves like a kid.  I also want to lift my gaze to the deep blue sky for a piece of the infinite peace.

The changing season invites attention, rewards a deep breath with the scents of the earth shifting its tilt, invokes us to reflect on the harvest of our lives.  It’s a good time to reflect on our year and appreciate the skills we’ve sharpened, the sensitivity we’ve gained, the goals that we’ve met.  Line these things up, like colorful jars of peaches and jams, on shelves where you can admire them.  Where you can take stock of your harvest and appreciate the yields of your living.  These accomplishments of yours, the reserves of wisdom and experience that you’ve created, are there to enjoy and use.

I’m going to get on out into the fall and let beauty permeate me.  I hope you do the same.  Your pantry is full of good stores.  You are an important part of this amazing world.

 

Posted in Being Authentic, Finding Enough, Giving up on perfectionism, Satisfaction | Tagged | Leave a comment

Touchstone – Go, Friend, Go!

Posted on Fri 09 15 by Lisa Sorensen

25 September 2015

Promise me you’ll always remember:  You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.  ~ A.A. Milne

Go Friend Go!

I was working through big clots of thoughts about how important friendship is to me and also about how challenging I can find it, when this poem by Jena Schwartz landed in my email like a little bird, delicate and tender and true.  I love Jena’s words and the photo she chose catches so much.  One woman—confident and eager.  The other—reserved and less certain, but willing.  Arm and arm—supporting, sharing, gaining momentum.

So Glad to See You

You and I                                                                                                                                                   are gonna get along                                                                                                                                 just fine

You and I                                                                                                                                               are gonna light                                                                                                                                     each other up

not by comparing the outside                                                                                                             of the fronts of the houses

not by comparing the outside                                                                                                             of the faces

not by comparing the outside                                                                                                             of the appearances                                                                                                                                   of the layers                                                                                                                                                  we live behind                                                                                                                                             and inside of

not by writing the best poems                                                                                                           not by good hair days                                                                                                                             or great accomplishments                                                                                                             marking                                                                                                                                                 where we thought                                                                                                                                     we were supposed                                                                                                                                   to be                                                                                                                                                         by now

not by medals                                                                                                                                       when real courage                                                                                                                                     is heart-bound and sourced

No, none of these                                                                                                                           gonna be the reasons we get along

We gonna get along because you                                                                                                           told the story of the night your daughter cried                                                                             and you waited it out with her

and the time your son grunted                                                                                                           and went from boy to man in an instant                                                                                       then came to hug you though he towers over

and the time your father was sick                                                                                                     and the time your mother just couldn’t                                                                                     anymore                                                                                                                                                 and the time your baby stopped breathing

and the time your house burned down                                                                                           and that was not a metaphor

We are gonna get along by assembling                                                                                                 all of these bits                                                                                                                                           and                                                                                                                                                              pieces                                                                                                                                                              of memory                                                                                                                                                       and tension

and also bliss

the bliss of when it’s easy                                                                                                                     the bliss of when we feel remembered

We are gonna show up when it’s rough                                                                                         and show up even harder for the moments when we laugh until we cry

when snake medicine comes to show you the night                                                                       and hawk has no time to waste                                                                                                           and there is nothing we can gain by looking away

and so we will look straight into each other’s eyes                                                                   Saying, oh there you are my old friend                                                                                             I am so glad to see you                                                                                                                               I am so glad to be here

You and I,                                                                                                                                               We gonna get along fine

 

For more of Jena’s words and information about her warm, heart-opening online writing groups, visit her website.

 

Posted in Courage, Friendship, Touchstones, Vulnerability | Tagged , | 5 Comments

Go, Friend, Go!

Posted on Wed 09 15 by Lisa Sorensen

22 September 2015

We could learn a lot from crayons; some are sharp, some are pretty, some are dull, while others bright, some have weird names, but they all have learned to live together in the same box.  ~Robert Fulghum

Go Friend Go

Let us root for one another!

For our attempts—that may or may not turn out.                                                                          For our truths—that might hurt to tell or hear.                                                                                      For our hearts—that exalt and that crush.                                                                                             For our dreams—that if we let them, will stretch us into exciting new territory.

I think most of us deeply desire to support and booster our friends this way.  And with equal fervor, we hope they will do the same for us.

For me, friendships are a cornerstone of a satisfied life.  Yet, meaningful relationships are challenging.  Sooner or later, we will feel vulnerable, exposed, insufficient, hurt.

What can get in the way of being supportive for me is my insecurity.  A quick mental calculation compares my smarts, my looks, my clothing, my accomplishments to a friend’s and finds mine thoroughly deficient.

First off, the very process of comparison takes us away from the potential to be present with someone and understand a piece of them.  Then, the outcome of this rundown leaves me feeling either less than or with a superior edge.  Let’s just say, I am not at my best in either place.  It’s a lose-lose situation.

The cool thing here though?  This place of vulnerability can be an opportunity for a win-win if we’re willing to get honest about it.

When I resort to comparisons it’s often because I’m feeling challenged or unsure of myself.  I’m looking for bolstering.  And I’m playing dirty to get it.

We want to know our friends are in our court, that they will be there when we need them, that they want to share our joys and our sorrows.

Yet even if they give us all that, our friends will still challenge us.  We won’t always see or do things the same way.  We will not necessarily adore the same books or find the same food irresistible.  We will have different relationships with our partners and prefer different workouts, morning routines, shoe styles.  There will be places where substantial values flex and bend in different directions.

Where this gets tricky is when our self-worth hinges on conformity and validation lies in unison voices.

As I explore this, I’m finding a wonderful freedom in allowing differences rather than resisting them.  There’s richness when we listen, query, understand.  Or, accept and consider when we cannot understand.

I believe intimate connection is a backbone in most of our lives.  And the blood flowing through that spine is expressing our unique selves.

Because of our differences, this takes courage, even with our friends.  Sometimes our unique selves feel wobbly.  Hiding behind the cheap shots of comparison and conformity, we swallow our words or use them in ways we regret.  But we can practice finding our own truths and speaking them.  In a deep and true friendship, this is a gift.

I’m eager to stick with this, to dig in deeper.  When I feel my shoulders tighten or my anger rise, I want to let go of these defensive reactions and hone a better strategy.  To be courageous.  To speak up.  And, to take different perspectives to heart.

When we extend this courage to those who appreciate it, who also crave it, I think we’ll all find ourselves in the bleachers rooting with wild, whole-hearted abandon.

 

Posted in Being Authentic, Courage, Friendship, Satisfaction, Vulnerability | Tagged | 4 Comments

Touchstone – Shake it Up!

Posted on Sat 09 15 by Lisa Sorensen

18 September 2015

The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.  ~W.B. Yeats

shake it up

We’re each day, every moment, creating life.  Creating our life.

A month or so ago, my husband posted an old photo of me on Facebook.  In the photo, I’m in my early twenties, crouched beside the motorcycle I was taking on a road trip to the Southwest.  One of my nephews who’d seen the photo asked me how the trip, a sizable adventure, had changed me.

This question stymied me at the time and for several weeks after I searched for the imprint of that trip but couldn’t find an alteration of my path going forward or shifts in understanding that I could pinpoint to those weeks of travel.  But my nephew’s attention caught something in that snapshot.  I think what he’d noticed was how as the journey unfurled, I’d unfurled too.  The trip didn’t so much change me as allow me to express my essence more fully.

Vacations allow us to do that.  To come out from under the list of chores, step beyond the fences and the timelines, leave behind the responsibilities.

This idea of shaking it up is about seeing if we can nurture the parts of us that come to life and glow on vacation.   To play around with brightening up daily life by breaking out of our day-to-day boxes when we’re comfortably ensconced at home, too.  I know it’s easy to feel I’m too tired or too rushed to think of anything but tending to business.

But here’s the thing.  This is our life.  These are our days.  Today will not come around again.

Sometimes we think we’ll be happy when the dishes are done, the deadlines met, the argument healed.  When we’re on vacation.  This notion defers satisfaction.

Meanwhile, right here, right now, in our hearts and in our hands, is our life.  Waiting for us to pay attention and express our essence.

Stepping outside an unproductive thought loop to notice the world, the people, the sunset, the scents can enrich everything.  A deep, luxurious breath can change the world as we see it, as we know it, as we experience it

I’m going to keep playing around with this and invite you to, too.  Let’s maybe wear the special earrings.  Listen to a favorite song again and again.  Sing along, dance in the kitchen while we make dinner, smile unabashedly at someone we don’t know.  Switch off a criticism to replace it with gratitude.

I’ve put a copy of that photo on my fridge.  Do you have a photo of yourself sometime when you were feeling fully, joyfully alive?  What about slipping a copy of it up on your fridge?  See if you find, like I am, that the image inspires you to feel that more of life is up for grabs and full of possibility.

shake it up

 

Posted in Connection, Mindfulness, Touchstones | Tagged | 5 Comments

Shake it Up!

Posted on Wed 09 15 by Lisa Sorensen

15 September 2015

dance all night play all day                                                                                                   don’t let nothing get in the way                                                                                          dance all night keep the beat                                                                                               don’t you worry ‘bout two left feet                                                                                       just shake it up    ~The Cars, Shake it Up, 1981

shake it up


I’ve been receiving a daily mindfulness prompt in my email this month.  Amongst a lot of great suggestions for increasing awareness and appreciation of our lives, one tip in particular shot right into me, arrowed out into my day and is carrying forward, little ripples becoming bigger waves of change.

This was this prompt:

Change Up Your Routine: Many of us are creatures of habit and often our most deep-seated patterns of thought and action are formed unconsciously. Without realizing it we form deep grooves with our habits, and they begin to insidiously shape our lives and decisions. Yet, we also have the power to rewire those habits and rediscover the possibilities of each moment. This shift can be sparked in the midst of our most ordinary activities. At some point today, experiment with doing something that is not usual for you.  Perhaps you’ll take a different route to your office, try something new on the menu for lunch, or brush your teeth using your non-dominant hand.  Maybe you’ll change up your routine by taking a 5-minute walk outside during lunch.  Whatever you decide to do, bring your full attention to it and enjoy the moments!  

A pretty simple suggestion, right?  So, I didn’t even suspect how much possibility it contained.  I just plowed right in.  And started realizing how typically I operate on automatic.  This small act of noticing my habits with the intent of slightly modifying things takes life off auto-drive and makes things fresh, engaging and enticing.

There’s power in this.  Stepping off the treadmill is an act of creation.  Creativity is a form of self-expression.  Of choice and power.

There’s expansion in this.  It’s easy to think the way we do things is The Way To Do Things.  Doing something familiar in a different way is a reminder that lots of the routines we follow by rote are arbitrary.  Remember the story about the woman who always cut off the end of her roast because her mother had done it that way?  When she finally thought to ask her mom why, it turned out her mom’s roast was just too big for her pan.

There’s freedom in this.  Habits can gain dominion over us.  The way we think about a person can become fixed and hard.  A fear can become a rutted road in our heads.  Routines can blind us to options.  All this can add up to a feeling that we are trudging through our days with the snow up to our knees and a heavy pack on our back.

In mixing things up—there’s fun too.

The first day I tried this, small sizzles of excitement began to buzz in me.  A detour became a chance to explore a new section of town.  Getting interrupted, I began again with a different approach.  I followed impulses.  I gave myself permission to make mistakes, because of course we will make mistakes when we try new things.  I left the dishes in the sink.  I did six things at once.  I let the unexpected thing be an opportunity instead of an inconvenience.

I began to glow.  A spark of fire kindled.  An eagerness to see what came next.  What else I could do in a different way.  To see what novelty I could fashion into my days.

Creativity engages us.  Novelty perks us up.  Stirs our interest.  Brings us to attention.   Gets our fun receptors ready.  Opens up spontaneity.

It doesn’t have to be big.  I encourage you to try shaking things up.  See what happens when you change up your work out, step outside the lines you’ve drawn to define your personality, wear something unlike you, or follow an impulse.  Crack the window or throw open the door.  Tweak your ‘normal’.

I wonder if, like I am, you’ll find yourself pulling in deep, invigorating drafts of fresh air and a curiosity about what you might be up to next.

 

Posted in Curiosity, Giving up on perfectionism, Mindfulness | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Touchstone – Laying Down the Gavel

Posted on Fri 09 15 by Lisa Sorensen

11 September 2015

“Imperfections are not inadequacies; they are reminders that we’re all in this together.  ~ Brené Brown

laying down the gavel

This morning a friend mentioned that she wanted to open some boxes, pigeonholes where she had set people with whom she’d had difficult exchanges.  She wants to revisit the reasons she put up her own barriers with them and perhaps revise her opinions.  She knows she’s in a different place in her life and that she might see things differently.  She’s also aware of the weight of those boxes, the unease of those small prickly burrs in her heart.

Her words inspired me.  I’ve made judgments too that have become hard little scars burrowed into tender tissue.  We carry on.  Live with them as if they have to be there.  But my friend is right—they don’t.  Bringing them out into the open, reconsidering them in a fresh light with a willing heart, can create softening, healing.

The pith of judging that I’ve been trying to dissect this week is how it relates to being hurt.  Usually we are not hurt by a situation or even a person, but rather by our thoughts about that situation or that person’s treatment of us.  It is the thought that someone is dissing us that can make us defensive, uncertain, vulnerable.

When we need a situation to reflect our vision of the world or a person to validate a positive image of our ourselves, and that doesn’t happen, we are likely to become defensive.  When we cultivate an internal sense of security and worth, I think we’ll find less reason to judge.

Our history affects the interpretations we create.  Because of family history, I’m sensitive to not being heard and if I feel someone is not listening to others I can become stiff and hard toward them.  It’s not what I want at all.

What we want is connections that are based in caring and support.  Judgements are going to come up within them, going to get in the way.  But they don’t have to be permanent.  We can revisit.  When we feel those sharp little teeth of casting aspersions we can open the box and peer into what hurt or fear is causing us to protect ourselves.

It seems to me that the more fully we understand and accept ourselves, the more we will appreciate the bounty of our lives and the wonder of our friendships.

This was a hard week writing for me, flailing around in a topic that felt utterly unwieldy, difficult to elucidate and full of tricky spots.  Thank you for your time and thoughts.  Best wishes and love to you all!

 

 

Posted in Connection, Facing fear, Touchstones, Vulnerability | Tagged , | 1 Comment