May Your Heart Be At Peace

There are times when I send out an ezine that I am startled by the number of responses. Like the one I sent out a few days ago offering a blessing for the holiday season. People wrote back in droves. There's a computer term where you "ping" someone. That's what it felt like -- like I pinged you all and you all were there. Instantaneous response. I loved sending the note and I loved hearing back from so many of you. Here's the blessing in its entirety:

As we journey through this season I wanted to send you love and appreciation for the courage it takes to heal your life and open your heart. Often the work of transforming our lives happens underground, silent, unseen by others.

So in the swirl and busyness of this season I wanted to pause and thank you for the small gestures of kindness that you extend in your world everyday. Something you said, a word of encouragement you gave, a smile of connection, and the care you extended-- each of those moments makes a difference in our busy, chaotic world.

Thank you for helping to create a chain of love that sustains us all and creates a world that we want to live in.


May your body be calm.
May your mind be at peace.
May your heart be open to even more kindness, compassion, and love.

Mindfulness, Concentration Practices and Christmas Trees

It seems we are always surrounded by wyas to conenct with ourselves and to practice concentration and mindfulness. My latest discvoery of the perfect chance to practice was decorating my christmas tree this year.

As I started placing the lights around the tree I realized I could do it by pushing the lights around, trying to do it as past as possible. If however, I took my time and tried to place the lights where I wanted, separating the branches I found that my body slowed down and my thoughts focused.

Hmmm. I've been a bit phobic about getting attached to Christmas ornaments. About 10 years ago my favorite, special, boxes of ornaments were lost in a move. I had grown up in Europe and had boxes of beautifully crafted ornaments were suddenly gone. In the past years I haven't wanted to "get attached" to ornaments and had stopped putting ornaments on a tree.

This year, as it sometimes is, it was different. I pulled out what I did have to put up on the tree.

With my lesson from putting the lights on the tree I paused with each ornament, looking at it, enjoying it, remembering where it came from and any memories connected to it. My body enjoyed the connection by focusing, quieting, calming.

I learned, once again, that there is pleasure is small things, pleasure in focusing my mind, noticing and being present to what is.

"You must change your life." Rilke

I don't know why I'm just realizing this but transformation doesn't only happen in the dark inner recesses of our psychic introspection. Transformation happens when we are in acute interaction with the world.

One of my clients brought in a poem by Rilke as he muses about the "Archaic Torso of Apollo." Rilke completes the poem with the words, "You must change your life." My client, like so many of us, feels stuck and caught by the patterns of her life.

I know that place as I'm sure you do to. Those of us who are psychologically oriented turn to therapy to help us sort out the stuck points and free us up to move forward. There are periods in life where that kind of introspection is essential.

Then there are those other periods where yes, we do need to change inside, we do need to alter our patterns, but sometimes we need an active engagement with our external world to help take those right (or left) hand turns.

If I listen to those words "you must change your life" I know I have to do something but the cobwebs of my old patterns keep me entrenched and bound.

Life tends to come round at times like these, not always when we're "ready" and offer us an invitation to change. Hopefully we're open enough to engage with these events or have done enough work to be with these events with some grace. Then there are those times when we're not, when we push away the offering or we don't like the packaging it comes in.

I feel an urgency as I write this after having been initiated many times into these moments of life. I watch myself, my clients, my friends and those I read about in the news. I watch us caught in the sticky patterns unable to trust that this ruckus we're in will be for our good.

Perhaps my urgency is to find a collective conversation where we encourage the risks it takes to be fully alive, where we answer the call to more. Where the response to life is a full hearted trust that it's leading us to meet our own magnificence.

Remorse in the Wake of Inaction

Last night I had a quick errand to the hardware store. Getting out of my car I was horrified hearding this man screaming at a young girl as he pulled her across the parking lot. Many of us heard. None of us knew what to do. We clustered together at the customer service desk. They had heard it too and one of the Lowe's employees went out to "do something."

My heart breaks even today as I sit with knowing that I did nothing. That I didn't know what to do. That I witnessed something really wrong and allowed it to happen.

Remorse is an important teacher.

And prayer is an important ally and antidote.

May that little girl, and all children know a world without hurt.

May that man, and all of us who act out of rage be invited into the healing transformation of love.

Crysalis (Butterfly and cocoon)

[Barbara Coleman, a therapist in the Boston area, sent me this wonderful story about a butterfly and it's crysalis told to her by her yoga teacher, who I'm sorry is unknown to me. Thank you to both of you!]

One day a boy found the cocoon of a butterfly in which a small opening was appearing. He sat and watched it for several hours as it struggled to force its way through that tiny opening. All of the sudden it stopped. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could on its own and could go no further.

The boy decided to help the butterfly cocoon. He took a pair of scissors and snipped away the last remaining bit of cocoon. The butterfly emerged easily with it's swollen body and shriveled wings. He continued to watch the butterfly expecting at any moment that the butterfly would begin to fly. That didn't happen. The butterfly spent the rest of its short life crawling around with shriveled wings and a swollen body. It never did fly.

What the boy did not understand was that his intended kindness and haste to help the butterfly allow for the universal plan of the butterfly. The restricting cocoon and the struggle to get free are all part of the process. The restriction and the struggle force the fluid from the butterfly's body into its wings, strenthening its system so that it can fly when it finally gets free.

We all live this story. We all have a crysalis around us. Our struggles support our ongoing evolution. We struggle against that!! Oh yes we do!! (Okay, I speak for myself!!!) We want to fly but often we don't have the internal strength to make that happen. The process of rubbing against what feels so constricting can generate our longing and mobilize our movement to reach beyond what is so comfortable into something larger and more freeing.

I wish this for all of us - the internal fortitude to move through what is hard to the freedom that is always beckoning.

Classic Maxine

TWENTY NINE LINES TO MAKE YOU SMILE
1.. My husband and I divorced over religious differences. He thought he was God and I didn't.
2.. I don't suffer from insanity; I enjoy every minute of it.
3.. Some people are alive only because it's illegal to kill them.
4.. I used to have a handle on life, but it broke.
5.. Don't take life too seriously; No one gets out alive.
6.. You're just jealous because the voices only talk to me
7.. Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.
8.. Earth is the insane asylum for the universe.



9.. I'm not a complete idiot -- Some parts are just missing.
10.... Out of my mind. Back in five minutes.

11.. NyQuil, the stuffy, sneezy, why-the-heck-is-the-room-spinning medicine.
12.. God must love stupid people; He made so many.
13.. The gene pool could use a little chlorine.
14.. Consciousness: That annoying time between naps..
15.. Ever stop to think, and forget to start again?



16.. Being 'over the hill' is much better than being under it!
17.. Wrinkled Was Not One of the Things I Wanted to Be When I Grew up.
18 . Procrastinate Now!

19.. I Have a Degree in Liberal Arts; Do You Want Fries With That?
20.. A hangover is the wrath of grapes.
21.. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a cash advance.
22.. Stupidity is not a handicap. Park elsewhere!
23..They call it PMS because Mad Cow Disease was already taken.
24.. He who dies with the most toys is nonetheless DEAD.



25.. A picture is worth a thousand words, but it uses up threethousand times the memory..
26... Ham and eggs...A day's work for a chicken, a lifetime commitment for a pig.
27.. The trouble with life is there's no background music.

28.. The original point and click interface was a Smith & Wesson.
29.. I smile because I don't know what the hell is going on.

Appreciate every single thing you have, especially your friends! Life is too short and friends are too few! Thank you, Nancy for sending these along!

"...love is what it's all about." Irene Stiver

As so often is the case, someone came in today carrying a message to live by. This time, today, someone brought something from Irene Stiver's memorial service back in 2000.

Irene was an influential contribution to the world of psychotherapy, bringing in relational aspects that had previously been absent. I had only met her a couple of time so I didn't have the history with her that so many here in Boston had. Nevertheless, I was touched by her words, written in the last days of her life. They are below.

"It has become even clearer to me that love is what it's all about.
Not only at this time, but throughout our relationship, I have felt your love and deep caring for me. In turn, I hope that you feel my love for you. My hope is that you will hold onto this love and build on it in your life. Thank you for the privilege of being part of your life."
- from Irene's last letter to her clients

Living The Life You Want To Live

I love the web. I love everyone out there thinking and journeying through life. As you share your story with us, with me, my life is enriched.

In the wonderful way that life can be, blogger Amy Murphy
sent me a link to this story published in the New York Times that I love: "Those Aren't Fighting Words, Dear." (Amy was right, too, when she wrote that these are the essays that show the NYT isn't done for!)

Laura Munson, and my extension, her husband share the journey Laura went on when her husband of twenty years tells her he's not happy in the relationship nor with her. Instead of caving into that shock, Laura decides not to play along with it. She literally tells him, "I'm not buying it." The rest of the story is about the transformation that occurs.

Thank you, Laura. I am inspired by your commitment to stay in a loving, gracious place even as the world goes topsy turvy around you.

The Spelling Bee

I stumbled on these videos from the last two national spelling bees. They made me laugh so I wanted to share them with you.

Bit More of an Iconic Image of St. Andrews

A Gratitude Voyeur in St. Andrews

Wandering the streets of St. Andrews, Scotland ("The Home of Golf" as it's known) I happened to glance up and saw this older woman sitting in the window. She vaguely reminded me of my mother who had been active and engaged for so much of her life.

Seeing this lady framed in the window brought a wash of gratitude for whoever she is -- this woman sitting in her window going through her life with no idea of how her just being there would impact me and remind me of my mother.

And now I, wandering the streets with no idea of what I would find, am grateful and thankful for this unknown woman's life.

May she find ease. May her life be at peace.

The Antidote to Exhaustion is Not Necessarily Rest...

David Whyte, the poet writes describes being exhausted and without energy and asking his good friend, Brother David to tell him about exhaustion. Crossing the Unknown Sea lets us into this poignant conversation.

Brother David's response "The antidote to exhaustion is not necessarily rest .... The antidote to exhaustion is wholeheartedness."

This phrase speaks so strongly to anyone on a healing journey. The exhaustion can be immense. It can feel like you absolutely have no life left in you to give. The thought of being wholeheartedly in anything seems ridiculous. Impossible.

And yet, it's true. When we listen to what ever calls us we are on the path to more fulfillment, more satisfaction.

Most of us live semi frustrated within our limitations, unsure of how to change. We feel stuck. Our patterns seem insurmountable. It's easier to give in to what's known instead of listening deeply to what calls us.

You can count on it-- whatever calls you will open the door to you being wholeheartedly engaged. There's nothing better.

Take a moment today to ask yourself, especially if you're fatigued. What calls to me? Listen. Listen to how the answer arrives. It might come through a phone call, through something you read, through a billboard, through a song.

Let us know. Take a moment and post a comment, a thought, an insight. Include us in your world.

Michelle Obama follows me on Twitter?

You can not imagine my surprise when I just looked at my email and saw that Michelle Obama is now following me on Twitter. Yes, it's true.

Here's the craziness of it all. I had read an editorial in The Boston Globe by Robert Brown about his wife getting onto Facebook and Twitter. He's a beautiful writer and the editorial was delightful to read. I especially loved how their cats have 5000 unique views. LOL.

So in a moment of my own piddling around this social media stuff I signed up for Twitter. Just to see what it is all about.

Every morning I take a scroll through different blogs. One of my favorites is The White House blog. I love reading what's going on and I love that Obama is as visible as he is. And I love the videos and photos they post.

The other favorite blog is put out by the State Department which sends me daily posts from different foreign service people. One of my recent favorites was posted by Preeti Shah (serving as Vice Consul at the U.S. Consulate General in Istanbul, Turkey) who wrote, "Watching the faces of the Turkish students as they had the chance to talk with the President, my President, I was in awe..."

Another post is by Douglas Silliman who serves as the Deputy Chief of Mission at the U.S. Embassy in Ankara. He writes this wonderful story of being told by his boss to get in the car and wait for the President - and then give Obama a briefing.

Silliman shares how Obama asked about himself, his family and then the two of them had an informative discussion about the event ahead. At the end, Silliman writes, "In the Foreign Service, I have met every U.S. president since Ronald Reagan. But I had never even dreamed of sharing 10 minutes one-on-one with a president. There are very few careers that offer you such opportunities. Today I was very glad that I had joined the Foreign Service." I love getting such a fresh and open communique about our country.

Anyway, I'm digressing a bit. When I signed up for Twitter I thought, hmmm, who would I want to follow. Michelle Obama came up. I searched. There she was, so I clicked on "follower."

Never in my wildest dreams would I ever have thought that Michelle's organization would be clever enough to return the favor. I have no fantasy that it's really Michelle -- but come on, let's admit it, even if you're a non-believer, this is a real kick.

Gary's Poem: My Blue Shirt

The greatest gift of my ezine is getting notes like this one, from Gary Whited, inspiring me, and reminding me of the community in which we live. We may all be scattered around the nation and the Globe (like Candace Atwood recently back to Montana from her visit to New Zealand) or close at home (like Mike Ward who LOL when he read his name in the latest ezine...). Where ever we are, though, we are sending out energy of love, consciousness, kindness. Knowing you are all other --and all those I don't know yet (but look forward to meeting) -- remind me of all the wonderful reasons to be here - with you.

Here's Gary's note and poem:

Hi Deirdre,
I was just reading your piece on "Having Some Kind of Practice," and it reminded me of something I heard the poet, Mary Oliver, say once at a reading. When asked after reading some of her poems whether it was important to her as a poet to write every day, she paused for what seemed like a long time, then said, "What I find important is to make appointments with your unconscious and keep them." That has stayed with me. As a poet, it was particularly powerful for me. I thought you might like that little story.

As for my poems, there is one that comes to mind just now. It was published a couple years ago in a magazine called Bellowing Ark. I'll attach it here.

Nice to receive your thoughts and your words.
Warmest regards,
Gary

(photo from teresabanter.wordpress.org

My Blue Shirt

hangs in the closet
of this small room, collar open,
sleeves empty, tail wrinkled.

Nothing fills the shirt but air
and my faint scent. It waits,
all seven buttons undone,

button holes slack,
the soft fabric with its square white pattern,
all of it waiting for a body.

It would take any body, though it knows,
in its shirt way of knowing, only mine,
has my shape in its wrinkles,

my bend in the elbows.
Outside this room birds hunt for food,
young leaves drink in morning sunlight,

people pass on their way to breakfast.
Yet here, in this closet,
the blue shirt needs nothing,

expects nothing, knows only its shirt knowledge,
that I am now learning––
how to be private and patient,

how to be unbuttoned,
how to carry the scent of what has worn me,
and to know myself by the wrinkles.


Gary Whited

Comments?

I'm curious. I hear from different ones of you about various blogs, but most of you don't comment here. I find it interesting and wonder about that. I'm always glad to hear, whether it is by email or other forms, but I wonder why that hesitation is about posting a comment here. Drop a comment. Post a remark. Let me know! I'd love to hear.

Hearing and Living Your Own Music

Yesterday I gave a presentation to the regional National Association of Social Workers. It’s certainly been an honor to be with my fellow social workers and to share what I have learned through working with my clients and groups.

Over the years I’ve been lucky enough to give many presentations, whether at conferences, workshops about my own work or trainings through Sensorimotor Psychotherapy Institute. In the past year I’ve been wondering about something that I repeatedly notice. As I write I realize I am puzzling over my experience of it.

There was a time when it fed my narcissism to be in front of people putting on a show. Over the past 3-5 years though that hasn’t been as fulfilling. I’ve realized I don’t want to be a talking head. What appeals to me is to support others to know their own knowing. To share what I know but only in the service of the other(s) deepening into their own wisdom.

My body is really leading the charge with this learning. WhenI am not present to myself, even if only in a tiny way separated, my body goes into an internal shudder which only gets louder and louder until I pay attention. I’m learning to listen! As I listen the cringe stops. This has taught me something important about myself personally and about the kind of support I want to offer others. And I think there’s something that we can all learn about being present.

People have been telling me they want to “train” with me, learn from me. Sure, there are things I know and I’m glad to share them. What I am beginning to realize is that what people want is not what I “know” in my head, it’s not data, factual information or even the experience I have working with trauma, attachment and dissociation – what people want is the experience of being connected to themselves. How to live in their body-heart-mind and stay centered in that. That’s what people want more than anything. The intellectual information when conjoined with the experience of staying true to yourself is vital.

We’re so used to looking outside ourselves for the answer that when we see “it” in another, we reach for it. We think “it” out there is where it is. We forget that whatever “it” is, “it” is a reflection of what’s inside – otherwise we would never know it or want it.

The feedback I get from people is they are moved by my authentic speaking, by my honesty about the journey. What I know is they are looking for their own inner connection, their alignment, their authentic expression.

My task is to steer you back to your own knowing. To help you to learn how to sing your own song, to hear the music that arises inside you and have the joyous freedom to be able to express it.

After the Retreat

For some reason I created space this year to go on two weeks of meditation retreat. It’s really been a gift. Wonderful to have the time to deepen, to soften more.

More than any other time it seems easier to take the benefits of sitting on retreat into regular life. Although my mind might have a harder time quieting and slowing down, I am remembering the precious clarity and great light that illuminates. Almost like I'm more aware of that presence through more moments of time. And it feels easier to return to it.

Another way to try to describe it may be that I feel more porous. I can at times more easily release what’s obscuring this glorious presence. Once I touch into that space I’m altered even as I return to concreteness of “me.” It motivates me to practice, not just on the meditation pillow, but in life, becoming even more porous so the ‘deirdre-ness’ dissolves and makes room for more joy, love, and generous compassion.

Meditation Retreat

It can be so simple sometimes. The last retreat I did in January, 09 was wonderful, easy. My mind slid into the groove and stayed there with ease.

Yesterday was the first day of another retreat and my mind last night was not a willing accomplice. It took me everywhere, following every thought down narrow passages, returning gamely to the breath for a moment then skittering off examing everything and anything other than the moment.

I'm grateful for the chance to sit again. To lay the foundation, to explore each mind moment that arises as I take a breath in and then follow that breath out.

Star Struck

I’m not someone who is usually star struck. Then again, I don’t usually run into true, honest-to-God stars.

Last week I was in Tucson, Arizona meeting with my coaching group. I had packed up, was heading to catch my cab, picked up the newspaper and saw Tiger Woods on the cover. I turned the corner and saw this man in a baseball cap walking toward me. We met at the gate. I reached to open it, looked up again, did a double take – and yes, it was Tiger Woods.

A couple things struck me, the most prominent was, how wonderful it would be if this was the way life was: look at something and the boom, there it is. At least, it would be good if it was all the good stuff that came that quickly.

The second thought that struck me was that I perceived a certain wariness on Tiger Wood’s part. Poor guy, I thought. This probably happens to him all the time and who knows how people respond to him. Might be something like swatting away flies on a hot, sultry day. Who knows? It’s not really an experience I am closely familiar with!!

Not being a huge fan, although I certainly recognize him, I learned later on that he had just had another child. In retrospect, I wished I had known that personal piece and congratulated him, sent him good wishes as a person, not as a “celeb”, not as an object.

Instead I said, “hey! You’re the man!” meaning I had just seen him, lifting up my paper. He smiled in a cautious way and said, “I’m not sure about that.”

What does this have to do with healing trauma, you ask, in all seriousness. Two things:

• I realized, once again, how hard it is for any of us to be an object, to not be seen as a whole person
• As trauma survivors we’re wired to expect the worst, to protect against possible harm. Our thinking is cautious, careful, protective. Is it any surprise, then, that life greets us with experiences that match our thoughts?

So, I ask you, as I inquired of myself … What would it be like if I looked at something and allowed it to instantly be there. Not the icky stuff – but the good stuff.

What differentiated my experience of running into Tiger was I had no charge at all when I saw his picture in the paper. I had heard vague things about Tiger being in the area, but frankly I didn’t take it in. There was no pull toward him – and certainly no push against him. Empty, clear space.

That’s not how I usually experience life! I love what I love and have to work with not liking some things too! What if, however, I let life be empty, simple, uncomplicated? What if I didn’t objective things, people? What if I didn’t put the in roles or assign them tasks that they don’t even know I’ve done? I wonder if life would be different……

What Makes You Come Alive?

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

Howard Thurman

One of the great things about having a blog is hearing from, and being inspired by, people I'm not in constant contact with. Yesterday, I heard from Candace Atwood, a therapist who usually lives and works in Montana but took a month to play and visit in New Zealand. The photo comes from her four day trek on the Queen Charlotte Track walking and seeing sperm whales on the surface dancing with 300 dusky dolphins. "Way cool!" Candace writes.

It is wonderful. Candace included a quote from Howard Thurman which is above. How utterly true -- the world does need people who have come alive. I'm inspired by Candace and your zest for life.

And so I reflect on what makes me come alive? What helps you come alive? Are we ready to go and do it? To live fully, without shame, without fear.

Count on Mary Oliver....

.... to speak with a simple, true clarity. Here's one of her poems:

The Messenger

My work is loving the world.

Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird -
equal seekers of sweetness.

Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.

Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?

Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me

keep my mind on what matters,

which is my work,

which is mostly standing still and learning to be

astonished.

The phoebe, the delphinium.

The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.

Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart

and these body-clothes,

a mouth with which to give shouts of joy

to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,

telling them, over and over again, how it is,

that we live forever.

Thank you, Mary Oliver. The last line for me would say... "telling them, over and over again, how it is, that we love forever."

A New Metta

We all have such beauty inside us. One of the great gifts of doing the work I do is listening to others and witnessing them as their unique spirit arises and flows freely.

The photo above is a gift of stark winter beauty, taken by David Boor.

Late last week I received this new metta written Jane. I asked her permission to share it with you. With her permission, here it is:

A new metta

May I see the varied threads that make up my history.
May I recognize the pattern, the blending and unblending, that is me.
May I recognize the weave as sacred, and love it, if just for a moment, today.

May I catch the breeze of my larger self,
May I feel myself as an opening, unbound from time,
May I recognize my self as big and small,

as timeless and historical,

as woven and broken,

as sacred and honorable,

if just for a moment,

today.

--- jane

The Gift of Trauma

Last week I sat in a meditation retreat. It had been a while since I had taken a week out of my life to just sit, to be still, and to train my mind. This year the sitting was easy, almost simple, much different from years past. I didn’t have a lot of internal noise to sort through.

Having been on silent retreats since the late 1970’s it felt like a joy to arrive carrying so little inside. There was less that I had to drop, or set aside in order to be there. As a consequence the retreat unfolded into states of bliss and love.

Over the years, I’ve tasted these states. I’ve come to know that love is what unifies everything. This retreat deepened that knowing and solidified it.

At one point during the week I flashed in awareness that my history of trauma, as painful as it was to move through and to frequently feel stuck in, was the exact configuration that allows me to be open to love more fully now.

The gift of trauma is its promise of living a life undefended knowing of love. All those moments of painstakingly putting internal pieces together, one by one, over and over again, despairing or ever getting anywhere. All those moments solidify an internal self structure which then allows us all to choose to open without fear, instead trusting and knowing, being led from within.

I recently said this to a client with a devastating history. She nodded along as I was speaking then used her words to agree. She knows. It feels true to her. And then, it’s like the darkness of history floats over and shields her from her own knowing, protecting her from this absolute sure future that shimmers ahead.

She says at one level she knows parts of her protect her, keeping her from jumping there -- so that can has to be here – has to put the pieces together so that her spirit can later be unbound and free to love without fear.

Giving Better Back

Mona Barbera is a terrific therapist, especially with couples. She recently wrote a book "Bring Yourself To Love: How Couples Can Turn Disconnection Into Intimacy" and it's really worth reading. I've had many clients read her book and find it immensely helpful.

Here's an interview she gave on Fox News in Boston.

One of Mona's key points is Giving Better Back. The idea is that when someone is reactive with you try not to react back to the reaction. Instead offer them something better, offer them the response you would have wanted for yourself. Give them something better. The simple beauty of this small jewel is that when we give our partner, loved ones, friends something better, their defenses relax and the end result is they give us the better back.