Demucking…

Early yesterday evening I had just begun mowing the front lawn when I stopped to visit with a neighbor. When I resumed a few minutes later, the lawnmower started as usual but then quickly died. I tried again but the result was the same. The electric lawnmower is my pride and joy (see The Zen of mowing…) and it had never given me serious trouble before now so I was stumped. But not really. Deep down I knew the event that had put things in motion. A couple of weeks earlier, I had mowed the grass when it was exceptionally tall and wet. The mower had kept stalling out but I had persisted. I had finished my task but the machine hadn’t felt right since then.

I knew what I had to do. It was time to flip the mower over onto its side so that I could inspect what was going on underneath. My hypothesis was that there would be an accumulation of grass clippings lodged there which were preventing the blade from spinning efficiently and thus causing the mower to overheat. What I found was much worse – a beyond astonishing amount of muck. (I’m not sure I even knew what muck was until I saw this substance!) I was chagrined…clearly I had not been maintaining the mower the way I was meant to. The truth was that I had never, not once in two years, turned the mower over before yesterday – no inspections, no routine cleanings. I had deliberately turned a blind eye towards what I couldn’t see. As long as it kept running, I kept my eyes straight ahead and kept pushing.

Which got me thinking. Have I been doing the same thing with my body? Are there ways that I’m currently not taking care of myself to the best of my ability? Am I eating too much of the wrong foods and not enough of the right foods? Are there supplements that I should be taking? Should I be fasting? Should I be seeing an acupuncturist regularly? The similarity between the lawnmower and myself seemed painfully obvious. Because suddenly, I find I have a laundry-list of ailments – a torn rotator cuff, out-of-the-blue hip issues, and a painful big toe; also a noticeable decline in flexibility and energy level; in general, out of sorts and not quite right.

Yesterday at the beginning of yoga class, the instructor asked us to silently set an intention for that day’s practice. I chose “acceptance” because during previous classes I’d spent the entire time being pissed off at the postures I couldn’t hold and at the various body parts which were hurting. It was my first tentative step towards moving beyond anger and denial.

Although acceptance is important, I now have a sense of urgency about pursuing this new line of thinking. Are there preventable and reversible things going on inside me right now about which I’m unaware….things that are acting like muck and slowing me down? Things which will ultimately reach a critical mass and cause a major malfunction? And, if so, how should I begin the demucking process?

The story of my lawnmower has a happy ending. I did get rid of the muck (well, most of it). When I tentatively tried restarting the mower, much to my surprise and delight, it started right up and felt better to operate than it had in a long while.

 

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Cinnamon, aging, and Einstein…

This is what aging feels like.

In the beginning, time feels limitless like a recently purchased container of ground cinnamon from the farmer’s market. Day after day you add just a pinch of the spice to your morning coffee or to the rare batch of French toast and it seems to make no impact at all on the remaining quantity. You think, “I’ll never use this all up!” You think, “This has got to be one of the best bargains around. $1.18 for five ounces and it’s going to last forever!” Days go by, then weeks, then months and still no visible change. You quit thinking about it all together, having decided that it is unlikely that you will ever have to purchase another container of ground cinnamon ever again. But then it happens. One day you are startled to notice that the container is, in fact, slightly less full than it was just yesterday. “Maybe it’s my eyes,” you think at first. So you look again. But no, there is clearly a little more container and a little less cinnamon visible now. And then a quirky phenomenon happens. Whereas it has taken an interminable amount of time to notice just a slight difference, now that you’ve noticed a change, the cinnamon starts vanishing at an alarming rate. What the f*** is going on here? (And you’re a nice Jewish girl from Brooklyn who doesn’t curse all that much.) You think, “Clearly the laws of physics must be involved some how,” though you know next to nothing about physics though you do like the occasional sci-fi or fantasy film. You begin to wonder, “Does this have something to do with the time/space continuum?” And then, more to the point, “Is time actually speeding up?” You can’t help but notice the note of desperation in your voice when you pose the next questions which is, “Is there a way to slow down this process?” You begin to feel overwhelmed with feelings of anger and betrayal. Maybe even a little bit of panic. Being human, you decide you need a scapegoat, someone or something you can blame for this distressing situation. You look around for possible candidates and settle on Einstein.

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Molting…

Yesterday while doing yard work, I had the strangest sensation. I no longer felt like the “me” that I’ve always been. It was as if all the many changes I’ve made during these last few years suddenly reached a critical mass and poof!…old Caren gone and new Caren here. Like a snake who has shed its old skin revealing new skin beneath.

The sensation was disorienting but empowering. I wanted to change my life and by golly I have. I’ve thrown financial security out the window. I’ve chosen to believe I have something valuable to offer people. No supporting cast, no back-up band – just me. And I’ve altered, much of the time, how I choose to perceive the world. So, not only have I shed my skin but I’ve altered my vision as well.

Suddenly, I was hit with the urge to change how I look. How can I continue to look the same when I feel so different on the inside? There and then I decided to cut my hair really, really short. Just thinking about it is both terrifying and thrilling. Maybe that’s the point. We’ll see if I’m still feeling brave when my hair appointment arrives in two weeks.

In my bedroom I have a star-shaped golden cardboard box. Inside are two pieces of blue paper upon which are written the following:

  • Infinite Spirit, send me a sign. Show me the next best use of my gifts and talents; and
  • My perfect new path is already selected and will arrive at the right time. I’ll be shown the steps to receive it.

My prayers (and they were prayers, weren’t they?) have been answered in ways I never could have imagined. Not that it has been easy. Far from it! But I’m no longer sleep walking. And I have moments when I’m actually okay with who I am. And that’s all I’ve ever really wanted. The me that I’m now, the one with the tender new skin, feels like it’s time to write words on another piece of blue paper to put in the star-shaped golden cardboard box. This time it will be about love. It’s time…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Chain link fence, part 2

There are all types of fences. There are the ones that exist in the physical world, the ones that act as barriers to keep us away. (See Chain link fence, part 1.)  And then there are the invisible ones, the kind we construct consciously and unconsciously, to protect ourselves. These barriers, though motivated by the best of intentions (such as self-preservation), might in fact, act contrary to our best interests. For one thing, they keep us removed from fully engaging in life. And what’s the point of that?! I’ve already spent too many years playing it safe and being, at least a little, asleep, as much of a cliché as that may be. Fences also keep us from truly knowing the depth of our feelings, allowing us to remain strangers to ourselves. And maybe worse, they keep us stuck in muted tones instead of experiencing the whole rainbow of human emotions. By doing this, we are duller, less interesting, less dazzling. I’m also starting to believe that fences keep us stuck. The longer we refuse to look at and experience a strong or unconventional or unwelcome feeling, the longer it takes us to work through it or to be released from its grip. Playing it safe keeps us from sending strong signals to others which may, in the end, keep us from having the very thing we want (or think we want). Ironic, right? Alternatively, it keeps us from finding out as soon as possible, that we can’t have what we want, which lately has been my own experience. There’s no true moving on without acceptance first.

When I blog, I’m constantly trying to figure out where to put the fence – the boundary between public and private. There are some places I just won’t go in this format. Though I wish I could. Writing helps me work through particularly thorny or painful feelings and situations. It’s a therapeutic and creative outlet for when I’m brave enough to peel those extra layers away and, by doing so, expose the tender and vulnerable heart of a matter.

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Chain link fence, part 1

For months I’ve been acutely aware of the construction of a second trail at the park where I walk regularly. I can’t overstate my curiosity, excitement, and impatience to explore this new path as week after week went by and still the chain link fence tasked with keeping us onlookers out remained. As the fence was located close to the trailhead, what went on beyond that point was hidden from view. During my (almost) daily walks on the original trail, I could see and hear signs of progress – the hauling of building materials, the operation of heavy equipment, and the occasional faint laughter or talking among the construction crew. (Who had come to Georgia from Florida, according to the license plates on their parked vehicles.) As much as I enjoy the current trail which over time has become as comfortable as a favorite, much worn sweatshirt, the allure of the new path beckoned to me. Hidden behind trees, everything about the path was mysterious. And yet, the fence remained. Day after day, week after week, month after month. Would it ever be ready?

And then, one recent Saturday morning, a gap in the fence suddenly appeared. Ahead of me, I noticed a couple had slipped through the opening and had ventured into the previously off-limits area. So I did too. And then it was happening…I was entering the woods, off on a new adventure. I was as excited as a kid going on an airplane for the very first time. My breathing and heart rate elevated slightly, my eyes dilated (at least I imagined that they did), and I spoke in an awed, conspiratorial tone to my fellow travelers. It was exhilarating.

But it wasn’t until two days later, early the following Monday morning, that I witnessed something that eventually spurred my wanting to write this entry. After all the preceding months during which time winter had become spring and now summer, I happened to be at the park at just the right time to catch a workman in the act of removing the chain link fence. I could have so easily missed this milestone…the visual clue that the project was now complete and open to the public.

I found myself feeling surprisingly grateful. Because change, especially the internal kind, isn’t usually like that. Rarely is there a concrete moment in time when we can say to ourselves, “Ah hah! I am different now; I’m not the same person I was three months or three years ago. My work here is done!” Instead, real change typically happens imperceptibly and non linearly. It happens in the background, like the remote sound of heavy equipment and workmen laughing and talking faintly in the distance. Occasionally, we do get a peek – our vision temporarily gets sharper and clearer and, if we’re mindful and a little lucky, we notice that we just handled a challenging situation better than in the past or chose a behavior that was truly in our long-term best interest where in the past we may not have. Work on ourselves doesn’t come with a clear beginning, middle, and end. Because of that, we rarely, if ever, get to see the fence come down. No wonder it felt so satisfying.

 

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Laptop dreams…

I recently purchased my first-ever laptop. In the beginning, it stayed parked on my desk in my office. After several days, I tentatively unplugged it and took it into the Breakfast Room so that I could do guided yoga enveloped in the beautiful morning light. Then, a few days after that, emboldened by my earlier wandering, I ventured into the dining room to do school work in the lovely, diffuse afternoon light. In this way, little by little, my laptop and I followed the sun’s journey around my small house. And now the final frontier…outdoors!!! I write this post sitting on my front porch on a beautiful day in early spring in Atlanta. It has taken me approximately six weeks to get here.

This tendency to be tentative (a kind description) is a core attribute of mine. I see it in my longstanding inability to dream about the future or to be the kind of person who can open her arms wide and shout out to the universe what she most wants. But if I want to continue on my journey of creating a meaningful and vibrant life, I have to push harder to hear and express my inner voice.

During a recent class for my Health Coach Certificate Program, we began exploring what might come next career-wise as the conclusion of the program approaches. In one fell swoop I was no longer safely in “student” mode and was suddenly thrust into “job-search” mode. Yikes! As soon as class was over, I found comfort in watching TV and eating mindlessly as I attempted to quiet my anxiety. But the difference this time around (compared to the countless other times through the years when I’ve comforted myself this way) was my ability to recognize my feelings and coping mechanisms as they were happening. Then I took a pass on passing judgement having learned in class that being self-critical rarely has the effect we want and often increases the very behaviors we don’t want!

Instead of passing judgement, I did something much more useful. I began to examine why I was feeling anxious about my next steps toward becoming a working health coach. It was then that I realized that I had immediately jumped to what kind of position I could get instead of taking the time to visualize what I really wanted. Once again, I had forgotten to dream.

So here’s my dream in regards to health coaching. I want to work with women who are stuck, like I was. For me, my upward spiral began with working out and climbing back into my body. Then came eating better and broadening my circle of friends. Next up was gathering the courage to leave my job of many years to figure out a new path. More recently, I’ve been learning about mindfulness and meditation and the importance of positivity. And I’ve only just begun. I can think of nothing better than to continue my “travels” while simultaneously witnessing and championing and assisting other women as they forge ahead with their own transformations.

Which brings me back to my newly acquired laptop. I’ve missed writing regularly these last three months. I think I was too busy absorbing new ideas and practicing unfamiliar skills; I wasn’t ready to process and share. But writing feels so important. So one more dream for now…to figure out a way to take this blog into the next chapter of my life.

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A year of answers…

There are years that ask questions and years that answer. ~ Zora Neale Hurston

Live as if you are going to die tomorrow. Learn as if you are going to live forever.    ~ Gandhi

Two thousand sixteen was definitely a year of questions. I had the luxury of time and space for deep reflection and exploration. It was at times a lonely journey but I’m thinking that was the way it had to be. We humans are so resistant to change; we have to practically be forced to head in a different direction even if it is in our own best interest. By forced I mean being in a place without distraction or rescue where you finally have no choice but to look yourself squarely in the eye and acknowledge what is missing and what you truly need. In Simple Abundance, Sarah Ban Breathnach suggests that if you feel a sadness that cannot be named it might be because of the following:

Perhaps the heart of our melancholy is that we miss the woman we were meant to be.

When I read those words, I felt the shock of recognition – clearly she was talking directly to me! She goes on to say that “even if you have ignored your authentic self for decades, ‘she’ has been waiting patiently for you to recognize her and to reconnect.” My sojourn these last few months gives me hope that this is so.

Which brings me to 2017 which I am convinced will be a year of answers. Okay, let me start by saying that 17 is my lucky number. I no longer remember why exactly, I just know deep down it is. So, right from the beginning, this new year has an auspicious start. And then there’s the fact that all my soul-searching these past few months has put in motion some things which I plan to pursue in earnest moving forward. I’m embracing the importance of being a learner, as Gandhi advised. On a regular basis now I practice Qi Gong (holdenqigong.com) and Spanish (DuoLingo app). I’m also committed to finally becoming a cook and have just registered for a 30 day on-line class that promises to turn me into someone who can confidently prepare meals without recipes (foodistkitchen.com). Can you hear the heavenly choir sing “hallelujah” at the mention of my FINALLY becoming a cook?! But that’s not all. I also want to learn to draw and plan to take a beginner’s class in the near future through Emory Continuing Education. And, I still have a few classes left on my Dance 101 card. In a former life I must have been a Latina because Salsa feels very natural to me; on the other hand, I have my doubts about Hip Hop. Another goal for 2017 – be willing to make a fool of myself from time to time! So, to that end, Hip Hop here I come!

But what about work? I have good news in that department as well. After endless hours of listening “to the whispers of my heart” (Breathnach), I’m owning my desire to become a Wellness Coach. I don’t have a road map for getting there as of yet but I’m working on it. The beauty about making wellness one’s job, is that there is no separation between living and working. Every healthy choice I make in my personal life about moving, eating, and mindfulness adds to my knowledge and understanding of what it means to live with vitality, purpose, and authenticity. Which I can then use to better guide others. And that’s where I’m headed…

wholeness-slider

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