Evolving Woman Honoring the journey of self-discovery, this blog provides reflections on living life on purpose, with purpose. Click the link to read past posts of the Evolving Woman blog. Or leave a comment in our guest book. Ignorance Isn't Bliss    So many people are writing about the power of attraction. How what we focus on grows. First off, this is not a new way of thinking; it’s just being absorbed more by the mainstream recently. Which is good. I have been accused of being overly optimistic most of my life. Still, according to these theories, that’s a good thing. Because by focusing on the positive in life I draw more of the same to me. What concerns me is the other extreme. By focusing on the good, I have ignored the bad, versus taking positive action against my negative thoughts. I believed that ignorance is bliss. Don’t watch the news. Forget about things others have done to me. And worst of all, ignore the acts I have committed which cause me shame. Ignoring these things, rather than facing them and taking action to correct them, keeps me in denial, draws more of the same into my life, and causes suffering. “Ignorance isn’t bliss. The quest for morality is the highest priority even if it makes us uncomfortable.” I believe facing our morality issues makes us uncomfortable. In the 12-Step programs they have that tricky fourth step: Make a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. It’s hard to acknowledge harm we have caused others and remember actions that bring shame. “When you’re absorbed with fear the attention is off what’s actually going on.” Pain is a normal part of life. We confuse pain with suffering, however. The suffering occurs when we either dwell, or ignore, pain. Accepting pain (and your accountability) is a way to take a step toward ridding yourself of suffering. “Trying to get rid of your pain only amplifies it, entangles you further in it, and transforms it into something traumatic.” Accountability is one way to accept and acknowledge the pain we’ve caused and the pain we’ve felt. Then we can move on to release the suffering this guilt has caused. “Delusion: an inability to predict negative results from negative actions. At the base of delusions is the misguided premise that we are completely alone, self-sufficient, and above natural laws.” Happiness is the lack of suffering. By releasing past pains we free ourselves to feel not a happy “high”, but a sense of peace and contentment. Rather than ignoring pain, I’m trying to deliberately attract what I desire but also release everything I don’t want. It’s a long process indeed. **This post contains quotes without credit to their authors. I apologize. These were gems I'd put in my journal but forgot to attribute.   Vulnerability (or the need for validation)   I was watching a news show the other day. The reporter was discussing a certain celebrity and the amount of personal information she had shared with the press recently. It caught my attention when the reporter commented, “Sharing your personal moments and thoughts is like talk therapy. If you reveal who you really are—and you get support for that—you then feel loved.” Interesting. I’ve always shared very personal moments in my editor’s letter in Evolving Woman and now in this blog. Could I possibly be doing so to get love? It’s possible, I guess. When I published EW, I shared intimate moments, but felt safe because there was the separation that print provides. I didn’t feel like I was really telling anyone. I just wrote it down. So basically, I was sharing my journal. But I did receive validation in the form of readers saying it helped them, so maybe I was doing it for love. Or maybe just getting it down, and therefore out, was enough. I’ve frequently tried to figure out the power of counseling. My counselor friend Karen has this magical ability to make me feel better. Maybe it’s simple—that talking makes us feel good. It’s hard to share our most intimate thoughts and feelings, but when we do, we feel validated, loved. If we remain invisible and don’t share these deep thoughts, there's no chance of rejection. Instead, if we take the risk of sharing our weaknesses, it offers huge opportunities for growth. Being validated, acknowledged for our uniqueness and vulnerability, helps us to take action. Acceptance leads to empowerment. This can be found in a group setting or with one-on-one coaching. The point is to share and get input. So start a blog, get an accountability partner, visit a counselor, find a coach, or join a support network. Just start sharing—even if the only purpose is to feel loved. It’s enough.   Feeding the Multitudes Hosting family gatherings must be like childbirth: with time, you forget how painful and hard it was. My mom swears I told her last year I would never have Thanksgiving at my house again. I don’t remember it. I thought we had a glorious time. But, there is a little niggle in the back of my mind that remembers the frustration of trying to work in a small kitchen with too many helpful bodies getting in the way. Still, as it gets close, I’ve already started my “pre” cooking. I love testing recipes ahead of time. That’s probably part of the problem: I’m exhausted from cooking by the time Thanksgiving arrives. But I love to feed people. My girls have frequently commented that, “Mom needs to be needed.” Maybe it’s true, but I think it’s more the joy that comes from nourishing, giving sustenance and showing love through something heart-felt. When I owned the coffee shop, patrons told me the food was cooked with love. And that’s true. There’s something very nurturing about the whole experience. I think what was so frustrating last year is that it didn’t seem worth so much work for 15 minutes of eating. The thing is, once again, it’s not the end result, but the process that matters. My goal in cooking and trying different recipes isn’t to eat. It’s the joy of planning, preparing and cooking that I remember and the process, for me, is the goal. So, birthing pains forgotten, I’m hosting Thanksgiving again this year. Last night I made a pumpkin roll cake just to see if I liked it. I did. I won’t make another one for the holiday, but I think I just wanted to take the time and nourish myself a bit. And dang, it was worth it. A Passion for Adventure   Ack. What have I gotten myself into now? That was my first thought when the producer for a local dating show called and told me I’ll be one of the contestants at this week’s taping of the show. What was I thinking? I mean seriously, what is the POINT? And that’s when I stop thinking for a moment and realize there doesn’t have to be a point. Thinking everything has to have a point is what gets us stuck in a rut to start with. Some things are just for the fun of it—for the experience. In the movie Into the Wild, the actor playing Chris McCandles said, “The core of man's spirit comes from new experiences.” I dug out my notebook in the dark theater to write it down. Well I just looked it up and the exact quote from the book, based on McCandles’ notes and letters was: "So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more dangerous to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun." I believe this is absolute truth. My mom used to organize various outings and called the group Aliveness Adventures. What an appropriate title. I know I feel most alive when trying new adventures. There is some exquisite attraction to the new, unknown. I’m always trying something new. An activity draws my attention and I just have to experience it. FYI, I just read a great article called 39 Ways to Live and Not Merely Exist. My friends have called some of my adventures crazy. But I’ve come to realize that those who are scared of stepping outside their comfort zones consider those who do so crazy. So be it. What I think happens with me is I make room for new adventures by being open to them. Nature abhors a vacuum. According to uningenglish.com, the definition is, “This idiom is used to express the idea that empty or unfilled spaces are unnatural as they go against the laws of nature and physics.” My counselor friend Karen told me this once and explained it (somewhat) like this: that when we release something, or have free time, nature will fill it with something. Karen said we’d better make sure we choose what to fill it with because it will be filled. So I fill as much of my time as I can with new experiences. The key for me to keep experiencing things is to not so much to “feel the fear and do it anyways”. It’s to “quit thinking about it and do it anyways.” Stop asking myself what is the point. And have a new experience. Getting in the Gap   In my last post I talked about the Dalai Lama movie. In it, they showed the Tibetan monks creating a sand mandala. The ceremony of creating the mandala is sacred, but the impermanence of it is what got to me. So I decided to create my own. Years ago I worked with a woman who created mandalas and taught the process as a form of therapy. She used colored pencils to create hers. The point is that mandalas are thought to have sacred meanings. Also, the process of creation is a way to stop the mind chatter--a form of meditation. I wanted to create a sand mandala because I enjoy the process of creating, but wanted to experience the lack of "possession" that must occur to let the object go. It's harder than I thought. Even as I was shopping for the colored sand my mind was racing, trying to figure ways to make it permanent (sticky paper, etc.), but I forced myself to let it go. I came home and made the mandala in the pictures. Elementary, I know, but the process was exhilarating. While tending to each detail I forgot to worry, forgot to plan, forgot to even think. I have a hard time getting out of my head and it was a complete feeling of relaxation--of being in the gap, totally in the moment. The experience reminded me of something I'd read about mountain climbers. That while they are climbing, they must be totally present, only thinking about where each hand or foot will go. That was what it was like. The mindless rambling stopped. I was, for a moment, in the moment. And since it is from sand, I will also learn to let go of this creation and realize the impermanence of existence. Letting Go of Attachments It’s funny; I planned to write this morning about choices. I read a quote recently by Steinbeck that said (vaguely) "up ahead there are a thousand lives we might have but we’ll live only one." I searched for the exact quote this morning and couldn’t find it. Instead, I stumbled upon another nugget. Steinbeck wrote in The Grapes of Wrath, “How can we live without our lives? How will we know it's us without our past? No. Leave it. Burn it." I’ve seen a recurring theme in movies lately about letting go of attachments. First, and the one that most deeply affected me, was Into The Wild. I read the book a few years ago while I was isolated in Colorado for work. I can’t seem to get the movie out of my mind anyways, but when I read the Steinbeck quote, it reminded me again. In the movie, he literally burns his money and leaves his life behind, continually re-defining himself along the way. It’s the greatest case of “letting go” that I’ve seen. Although he had nothing, only when he was in the city did he seem poor. The other two movies I watched recently were Redemption and 10 Questions with the Dalai Lama. Of course the Dalai Lama spoke of letting go of attachments. Redemption was about the originator of the Crips gang who began teaching youth from prison. (I believe) he was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize four times. His example of letting go, acceptance in the worst conditions, was inspiring. Even though he had caused his course, he was able to rise above the situation and make a different path for himself. I occasionally preach that enough is enough. That to be happy, all I need are for my basic needs to be met. In the Dalai Lama movie, the narrator talks about observing the poor and how they seem happier than some of the rich. The Dalai Lama said it is because they have less expected of them: fewer bills, less demands, less stress. I agree. Even though my needs are small, I feel rich with the knowledge of having enough, knowing I’m always cared for. And with that comes peace.     Bringing Knowledge Down   Where does knowledge come from? For 13 years now I have written about self-help and spirituality topics. A woman recently asked me how I know these things. At first, I was stumped. I don’t know. I read a lot, but that’s not it. I think it is more along the lines of Aristotle’s belief that educators should teach not by putting information into students’ heads, but by teaching them to bring down the information—because it’s there for all of us to access. Mostly, I share what I have learned on my path. I believe in the power of sharing our stories—how our strengths, our weaknesses, our vulnerabilities and our joy can help others through example. Even though my training comes from within, I believe exposing my fears and imperfections can help others on a similar path. Elizabeth Kubler Ross once said that she would like to come back in her next life and write a book titled, I’m Not Okay, You’re Not Okay, But it’s Okay. I like it. Our imperfections are what make us so endearing. The title of this blog includes those imperfections: Evolving Woman. We’re evolving. We’re not “there” but are in process. It is a journey that thrills me—the lessons, loves, hurts and those moments of “ah ha” that all make life so stimulating.     Stormy Weather   News stories abound about the stormy weather this time of year. So I thought it would be appropriate to write about not only stormy weather, but stormy periods in our lives. Life’s struggles crop up (as do sudden storms) on days that had mere minutes before dawned bright and warm. I have an unjustified fear of storms. Well, maybe it’s not completely unjustified after living for years in a 100-year-old farmhouse that had a root cellar for protection. The main problem with the cellar was the five-foot black snakes hanging from the rafters. Not an appealing hideout during stormy weather. But, back to my over-zealous fear of storms: I’ve gotten better about it now that I have a basement I wouldn’t mind camping out in for an hour or so, but they still make me uneasy. Still, once the storm is over, I walk outside and view the glory of the morning after. The sun returns and the birds are again singing. The day is even more beautiful than it had been before. Stormy periods in life are similar. Chaos, fear, insecurity and unfortunate events crop up when least expected. And when they strike, if we find ourselves paralyzed with fear, we remain inert. The storm will still pass, and the day will seem more beautiful after its passing, but the time spent frozen in fear is a wasted time that could have been spent in awe of the magnitude of nature (or life’s challenges). It’s time that could be spent in quiet reflection of the vastness of our existence. It’s time that could be spent learning from the challenge by asking, questioning the circumstances of our despair and how we got there. The next time stormy weather approaches, I plan to take a deep breath, acknowledge my fear, and then try to see the magnificence in the moment.     Gratitude Calendars   I started a gratitude calendar a few weeks ago. It’s taped to my refrigerator door and each morning I write a word or two about what I am grateful for. At first it seemed like an odd time to write beatitudes. Shouldn’t I be writing them at night when I know what I’m grateful for? What I’ve found instead is that in my early-morning fuzziness, instead of a concrete “thing” I am grateful for, an awareness comes to me and I am grateful for what I have and what is yet to be. So, it turns out, in a sense I am setting an intention for the day. Throughout the day I reflect on what was written. And because I’m half asleep when I write it, sometimes the word is a little funny. When cousin Holly was here, Mom asked what my word was on that day. I was embarrassed to say, “Sausage.” It turned out I was starving that morning and the thought of hearty, warm sausage brought me much gratitude. Usually, though, it is a state of mind that I write: calm, creativity, variety, peace, challenge, ideas. Other times I write family, friends, and so on. Each morning holds a surprise as I ponder that day’s intention. It brings an awareness of what I possess and would like to give back. Then at night, when I see the word again, I am at once grateful for and aware of the experience of that thought throughout my day.