Filed under: Journaling, Personal, Spirituality | Tags: inspiration, marathon, OKC Memorial, running, survivors
Writer’s note: This is an article I wrote one year ago and was originally published in The Newcastle Pacer and Inside Southside newspapers. I share it here now as an offering of remembrance to those who suffered loss on April 19, 1995.
A run to remember—A view from the road
When I began this series of columns about creating the best year of my life last January, completing the 2007 Oklahoma City Marathon was already a goal. It was a goal despite the fact that I had only been running consistently since September. And when I spoke the words aloud, I fought back the nagging little voice within that whispered, who do you think you are? You’re not a runner! You have never been able to run, even as a kid. What makes you think you can say something like that?
I didn’t really know where to start, so I searched online and found a mileage build up schedule that would get me ready to begin actual training for the marathon. I did what the schedule said to do, one day at a time, one step at a time. My goal was to complete the build up phase by December 31, 2006. With that behind me, my next goal was to train for the marathon over the next four months.
Some weeks my training came with ease. Some weeks, I counted every step. I ran in the wind and the rain and the sleet and on the snow. I ran in the daylight and I ran in the darkness. In fact, I fell in the darkness one evening after work, injuring my left clavicle, although not seriously. Regardless of how grueling a training run was, I always ended with a real sense of accomplishment that I ran the mileage on my own two feet.
I had the joy of running with one of my daughters at least once a week,on the long Sunday runs. She and I ran the Marathon together. I had the support of all of family and friends, and practically every step I ran, I was followed closely by my husband, who rode his bike faithfully behind me. He carried a back pack filled with water, sports drinks, energy blocks, chap stick, gloves…any thing he thought I might need to make it, he carried on his back.
The view from the road is unique. Neighborhoods offer up their personality to the passing runner. Some are teeming with children, while others are more mature. Trees of a feather tend to flock together. Sprinkler begatssprinkler. Where one luscious green lawn thrives, three others aspire to its velvety beauty. Horse ranches sprawl out along the river bottom in the ten mile flats in Norman. City drivers are distracted and hurried. Country drivers raise their right index finger to say hello. Sunrise breaks with promise and clarity. Sunset retreats with a bonnet of calm.
I ran through five pairs of shoes and covered a few thousand miles. I learned about stretching and soaking and the power of little things that add up over the miles. I realized how much I had taken for granted and how ungrateful I could be. I found the inner strength to challenge what I knew to be possible for myself and ran through that wall.
When I arrived at the event in the wee hours of Sunday morning, the darkness obscured everything from my vision. As I pushed my way past other runners, a vision emerged from the blackness. From nothing rose 168 lighted chairs, floating above a serene, still water. I clutched my throat as I thought back to 9:03 a.m. on April 19, 1995.
I fought back tears as I sat down on the steps. I absorbed the presence and the purpose and the dignity with which these individuals gave up their lives. I understood in my soul that I was on holy ground. When the prayer service began under the Survivor Tree at 5:30 a.m. I knew exactly why we run. We run to remember.
I did not run alone. When I felt weak or tired or hot or thirsty, I remembered the 168 souls for which I ran. They inspired my every step. They were with me every step of the way, offering courage and strength and life. It took me 5 hours, forty minutes and forty-six seconds to cover 26.2 miles, and when I crossed the finish line strong, cheered on by my loving family and supportive friends, I knew why I had run. I ran to remember.
Filed under: Coaching, Journaling, Jung, Lifestyle, Personal, Psycho-spirituality, Spirituality | Tags: people-pleasing, personal truth
People pleasing is one of the greatest epidemics known to mankind. It seems that we will do whatever it takes to please others and make them like us. Another motive for people pleasing is to avoid conflict, confrontation or our own truth.
We have been taught from an early age that we should be nice and in order to be nice, we attempt to please as many people as possible an any given moment. And if you are saying to yourself at this moment, that you never try to please people, I am going to assert that you are , in fact, a people-pleaser and are unaware of it.
When we are caught in the people pleasing mode, we completely abandon ourselves and our own needs. This leads to a loss of personal power and ultimately to resentment and anger. When we say yes when we really mean no, we build up a residual resentment against the very people we are trying to please.
A typical example of this is the husband or wife who martyrs him or herself for the good of the other. This results in a set of unspoken expectations. When the other person fails to meet these expectations, resentment accumulates. Eventually, the resentment is so huge it can be difficult, if not impossible for an individual to see beyond.
When the wife of 40 years looks at her husband and sees only the ways he has disappointed her over the years, she is caught in the trap of people pleasing. She becomes blinded to the reality that this is the person with whom she has spent her life, her partner and friend. She has covered up his vulnerabilities as a fellow human being. Both her eyes and her heart have been covered over by the imagined wrongdoings of her husband.
What began, as people pleasing results in a separation from those we love the most. We have to be true to ourselves within our acts of kindness. We have to understand that saying yes when we mean no is not the road to happiness and well-being. It is the road to loneliness and isolation.
Standing in one’s own power means to be confident and courageous enough to be honest and say what we mean. We all want to be liked by others, but the truth is that regardless of what we do, half of the people will like us and the other half probably won’t.
What is really important is that we love our self enough to risk the opinions of others. As Shakespeare wrote in Hamlet, “To thine own self be true,” for when we cannot be true even to ourselves, we cannot be true to another.
Filed under: Coaching, Journaling, Jung, Personal, Psycho-spirituality, Spirituality | Tags: Add new tag, blame, gossip, Jung, projection
Projection of the unconscious psyche is often the most difficult concept we must digest in our experience of awakening. It’s counter-intuitive to consider that literally everything in the depths of our unconscious psyches is seen outside ourselves in a projected form. This continues until the day we finally begin to consider that it is at least possible that we are projecting and that much of what we are seeing, judging, blaming and reacting to in others, in very real fact, exists within our own unconscious minds.
Projection and our lack of understanding about it causes untold suffering. Our lives suffer on every level and in every experience because we consistently project our own unwanted, rejected or denied qualities onto others. In short, we don’t see others as they are, we see others as we are. Because we don’t understand this, we suffer in our relationships, careers, spirituality, how we experience fun and joy and most of all we suffer because we limit our own potential.
We assign meaning to what other’s say or do based on our own unconscious deeply held beliefs of who we think we are and our beliefs. This dynamic of the phenomenon of projection is a true gift, because without it, we could never see what is real within us. Without it, we would never begin to step into our own powerful presence and we would never have any choices. We would be stuck inside a hall of mirrors, mocking and rejecting the distortions of our own image, rejecting these unfamiliar aspects of ourselves over and over. Sadly, this process of denial of our true nature and rejection of our selves becomes the definition of a lifetime. The cycle of projection is without end as long as we are unaware of it.
We can only see ourselves through reflection. Externally, that means that we would have no idea what our physical body looks like without the reflection of a mirror, water or some other reflective surface. We can only see our inner selves through the projected reflection of our reactions to others. What we react to, positively or negatively, in other people or situations is always about us.
I often say that things either affect or inform us. That’s my quick way of analyzing where I am coming from in any situation. As an example, I met a woman last summer that very quickly began to tell me all the dynamics of the group I had just entered. She informed me about who could be trusted and not, who was greedy, who had the ‘affair’ and who I was to simply avoid. As she talked, I began feeling really uncomfortable. I listened for a bit, taking it all in before I heard my internal dialog kick in. First, I thought she might be a very insecure person. That was a possibility. At this point, I was comfortable in knowing that this was merely information. I did not feel the need to form a self-righteous position and make her wrong. I made the decision that it would probably be in my best interest to limit our contact, and I have. This informed me.
A few short years ago, one of two things would have happened. I would have either joined in her observations and become her friend and our wounded egos would have validated each other in our self-righteous positions that said we know everything about everyone and we can judge them. Or, I would have formed my own SRP about this woman and made her wrong and judged her as a bad person because she is such a nasty gossip. I might have even passed my judgment of her on to someone else. I would have been totally affected.
Being able to observe my own action or reaction to a person or a situation has given me an incredible perspective from which to evaluate whether I am projecting my own unconscious ’stuff’ onto another or merely noticing the behavior. There is much freedom and power in cultivating the ability to be the observer in one’s own life.
If I had been affected by the woman mentioned above, I would begin the projection process by making her wrong, stupid, nosy, petty, etc. In my judgment of her, I am projecting my own disgust and rejection of the wrong, stupid, nosy, petty person inside of me.
Come on, there’s a stupid, nosy, petty person inside all of us. So what? Can we love ourselves anyway? Only when I can accept that I possess those qualities as well, can I allow another to have them without making them wrong. It’s none of my business. It’s not my place to judge her.
It is my job to notice when I have been petty, nosy and a gossip in the past, forgive myself for it and get on with life. I can make a huge difference in how I experience this group just by making that one choice. I can also have an impact on others in the group by choosing to show up as authentically tolerant and willing to see each person as whole and complete and enjoy them just as they are. I can never do this until I can accept my own flaws and weaknesses. I can only do this when I am willing to stop being embarrassed by my humanity.
This, too, is projection. But, that’s another blog!
Filed under: Coaching, Journaling, Lifestyle, Personal, Spirituality | Tags: Coaching, Gratitude, Journaling, joy, Spirituality
I had an enlightening call with a client today about gratitude. What is gratitude and why should we cultivate it?
According to the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), gratitude is defined as:
gratitude |ˈgratəˌt(y)oōd|
noun
the quality of being thankful; readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness : she expressed her gratitude to the committee for their support.
ORIGIN late Middle English : from Old French, or from medieval Latin gratitudo, from Latin gratus ‘pleasing, thankful.
Today’s call brought a focus on gratitude as a way to stay present. Gratitude is more than just a quality, as defined above. To me, gratitude is a way of being, a choice and a lifestyle. Gratitude is a goal and living in gratitude is an ongoing process. Gratitude is a measure of personal honesty, emotional availability, compassion and generosity. Gratitude is a measure of authentic abundance and it is available to any of us when we make the quiet choice to be grateful in what ever moment we find ourselves.
It is impossible for anger and gratitude to co-exist. I cannot be angry with you if I am grateful for you. I cannot make myself wrong if I am grateful for my life. I cannot blame others if I practice gratitude for what is, regardless of how I may feel.
I began to practice gratitude regularly around 1997. That was the first year that I kept a Gratitude Journal. Each day I noted five things for which I was grateful. I usually did this at the end of the day, which brought a lot of awareness into every day. I had to be present in the moment in order to notice and make note of a moment for which I could be grateful. The practice of the Gratitude Journal helped me remain accountable to my commitment. I got up each day knowing that I had to find at least five things I could feel grateful for by the end of the day. On days that I just didn’t get to it or forgot or feel very grateful, I’d always make those days up the next time I went to my journal. Once in a while, I’d get a few days behind and have to come up with 15 things!
The practice proved to be useful and fulfilling, so I kept it up. After a while, noticing what’s right in my world became a habit, like complaining, only the opposite. It seemed like good things happened all the time! Why? It’s like when you buy a new car and then you start noticing how many other cars like it are driving down the road. Grateful greatness was popping all around me because I was willing to see it, acknowledge it, feel it and claim it.
I pulled the 1997 version of my Gratitude Journal from the bookshelf today and shared a few of my entries with my client. I’ll share them here:
April 11, 1997: feeling in-touch with myself, jazz music, God within me, my higher self, my sense of security; April 9, 1997: Easter eggs and not having to dye any this year, the freckles on Heather’s (my daughter) face, Brooke’s (daughter) big smile, Hillary’s (daughter) growing sense of humor; April 14, 1997: Making good choices for me, taking care of my family, seeing Jennifer’s (daughter) smile, Dr. Pepper, my years with Lee (deceased husband, 2002). April 16, 1997: facing my fears, learning how to relax, the sun after many days of rain, friendship, this moment that is my life.
Looking back at these grateful moments from 11 years ago bring immense gratitude to me in the now. My freckle faced daughter is on her way to Vet school, my daughter with the growing sense of humor will graduate from Nursing school on May 10, 2008, my daughter with the big smile is a grown woman who is married with three children of her own. It is gratifying to see that I had actually stopped to be grateful for my husband, Lee. I had no way of knowing then that he had just five short years to live.
That is the point of gratitude. That’s why we care. That’s why we cultivate a grateful heart. We cultivate gratitude because we cannot change the past, nor can we know the future. What we have is now, this day, this moment in which to offer up a grateful notion.
Gratitude takes courage. In the moment of heart-breaking disappointment, the humanity within us will not suggest gratitude. That is when making gratitude a way of being can mean the most. When we live with gratitude, we are never alone or down and out. With gratitude we rest assured that eventually we will see what’s right in even the seemingly worst person or situation, even if we don’t like it or want to at that moment.
Today, I am grateful that I am feeling more like myself, happy and optimistic, the blue sky, my husband, my children and grandchildren, my health, the little bird just outside my window, spring and you.
Keep a Gratitude Journal. It will change your life!
Filed under: Coaching, Personal | Tags: Coaching, relationships, transformation
Why did I share my story about my relationship with my sister? Because it illustrates the fruitless pain and suffering that an SRP creates. Until I could become aware of the very real truth that I was angry that I had to be a people-pleasure in order to survive, my ego could use this energy to cast blame onto another person.I could avoid taking full responsibility for my life, my choices and my relationship with my sister. I wasn’t angry that she didn’t accept me. I was angry that I didn’t accept me. I could only see this by reflection as I projected it onto my sis.
When I became willing to show up 100% responsible for my life and my relationship with her, I no longer needed to blame her. I did not have many opportunities to make external choices when I was a child, what child does? But, I had never put aside this deep sense of lack of control and continued to show up as a needy 10 year old, approval seeking child living inside a woman’s body. When I showed up as an adult, things began to change.
I just wanted to make it clear that I am responsible for me and you are responsible for you…in any relationship, we have a choice as to how we will show up and what our experience will be. Each situation will either inform us or affect us. This is our choice.
Filed under: Uncategorized
As I write, I witness my mind in rewind x8. Just today I went to see my mother in my old hometown. I didn’t really “see” her, I brought her most recent batch of laundry and a few new spring outfits I thought she might enjoy. I didn’t have time to visit. It was strange to travel those old roads of my childhood while practicing “presence.”
As I drove down the old “drag” I couldn’t help but consider the strained and oppressed life I had lived as a child and teenager. I passed an old friend’s house and recalled the lie I told my parents so that I could attend a sleep over. Normal. Normal. That’s what attracted me most. It just seemed so peaceful and uncomplicated at my friend’s house. But, what do I know? I have no clue as to what went on when I wasn’t there. Yet, I still believe that it was more normal than my home. Evidence? They had company over! That is something I dared not ever do. My family life was too unpredictable. Anything could happen at any moment.
Today, I can say that this is most probably true of any family. I offer the movie, Friendly Persuasion, as evidence. I won’t digress into a synopsis of this movie now, but suffice it to say that we are all damaged. We all evolve and grow within the limitations of our unique family history.
I have lived in the shadow of my story, my fears, my illusion of who I am and from whom I came, and it is with great respect and honor that I can finally say that I am at peace with my life. I am at peace with my family, my self righteous positions and I have arrived at a place of sincere compassion for the heavy burden my sister carried.
The end of this part of my story is that I learned extremely early on to seek and identify the One who would help me survive. That was my sister. She never asked for the job, but what choice could she have had? She was set up by life, serendipitously it seems, to be both my savior and my demon. With her approval, I survived to be the woman I am today. Without it, she became the target of all my childish blame, excuses and judgments that kept me small and minimized all the ways our souls needed to collide for the benefit of countless people.
I cannot say, at this moment, how relieved I feel to finally and forever be free of my emotional and innocent need to have my sister’s approval. Maybe in the near future we can actually be authentic with each other and be sisters, not just by blood, but by choice.
What I have written here and chosen to share is a raw and unedited version of my growing awareness of the fragile line I…we all…walk between what is possible in Awareness and the heavy cost of steady sleep.
My self-righteous position that my sister is/was a sanctimonious, self-righteous bitch has become the perfect mirror for me to see my own self-righteousness.
My sister is a very, very brave woman who has loved me as well as I would allow. Not perfect…no she is not that, but she is human and she did protect me and she was hated for it by all who had their toxic guilt to contend with.
I grant all of us absolution from the past and I embrace, with all of my heart, the gifts I have received from the human foibles of those who went before me.
What a relief.
Filed under: Uncategorized
The personal history that my sister and I share is rich with fodder for a dysfunctional relationship. It’s been rife with opportunities to love, hate and misunderstand each other. I’m not placing blame when I say that our home was filled with frightening uncertainty that had a lasting imprint on my own personal narrative as well as that of my sister. I can’t speak for her, but I can tell you what my experience was. This is the personal account of the birth of a self-righteous position.
I was born in 1955 to a World War II US Navy veteran and a strikingly beautiful and intelligent woman. I was the second, last and not planned for child. My mom doesn’t think I know, but I was the surprise. My sister had been born just a little over seven years earlier and she was destined to be an only child. Mother was of frail health and was under doctors orders not to have any other children. By looking at the old family photos, it becomes almost painfully obvious that my arrival was not on anyone’s radar. The photos tell the story that my sister was a doted on child who was given all the attention and love my parents, aunt, uncle and grandparents could offer her. The years before my birth were golden. With hindsight, I can say that I am happy she shared in the golden days of my parent’s Camelot. The years ahead would not prove to be happy ones.
By the time of my birth, my paternal grandmother, for whom I would be named, had suffered a massive and fatal coronary attack as she waited in the car for my grandfather to close his barbershop. My mother’s health had been further compromised and my father’s alcoholism was becoming apparent along with its catastrophic consequences.
Still, my birth was, by all accounts, uneventful. I was wrapped in swaddling blankets and brought home, a new life to celebrate in the wake of such a loss, the sudden and disappointing death of my grandmother. The few photographs of the days surrounding my birth were taken with a Polaroid, clear evidence of the classical post WWII, abundant lifestyle to which I was born. I was precious, they looked happy, my sister looked concerned.
In 1960, I began my first year of school, kindergarten. My first memories begin at about the same time. They appear to me as fragments, bits and pieces that don’t always make sense. The substance of dreams, flashes of recall when the world and everything in it was huge and I was not. I was not.
Somewhere in between the time I was born and the time that my brain began to record retrievable memory, I already knew that my survival depended on my sister. I knew at some very basal and organic place within me that she was my protector and savior.
This is the moment that the seed of my self righteous position was planted. It germinated and then thrived as a growing dependency on my sister for my survival. In a world in which I was dwarfed by alcoholism, combat flashbacks, serious family illness that took my mother from the home and deeper family dynamics that cannot be expressed now, I understood well, instinctively that my survival depended upon a 12 year old. Her approval of me meant my life. I did whatever it took to ensure I was on her good side,did what she asked to remain under the protection of her good humor.
I’ve only recently come to understand the life-long impact this conclusion would have on both of us separately and together.
That will be the subject of part III.
