The emotional weather report this summer is much like the weather we've been having--cool and rainy with intermittent storms. I'm hearing about a lot of people having a hard time and going through major transitions physically, spiritually, and emotionally.
And for all of you who feel like life is pushing you to your limit or find yourself in a situation that is the opposite of what you want for yourself --I have some advice that I know will carry you through: yield.
When two forces collide the victory goes to the one who yields.- Lao Tzu
When life throws us a curve ball there are only two choices of action: resist or yield. The definition of the word yield is to give up or surrender oneself to the situation--also the definition of the word acceptance. By yielding you allow the natural flow and can then work with life instead of against it. Yielding doesn't mean you love the situation, it means that you accept it, and only when you accept something can you work through it.
I've spent a lot of time in my life on the road of resistance--thinking I could fight my way out of the circumstances that I was in; thinking that if I got angry and bitter enough, the universe would see the injustice of it all and transform the situation. What I didn't understand was that the transformation comes from going through the difficulties and learning to embody the qualities whose absence make the situation a painful one. I wasted a lot of valuable energy resisting things I had no power over instead of looking for the lessons that those circumstances had come to teach me.
I now understand that hardship is a potent and powerful teacher. I also know that it brings you to places in yourself you never would have found otherwise and dare I say that it's not only yielding and accepting the difficult but embracing it as you would a beloved teacher. Because in fact, that's exactly what it is.
This is my favorite passage from Letters to A Young Poet by Ranier Maria Rilke
We have no reason to mistrust our world, for it is not against us. Has it terrors, they are our terrors: has it abysses, those abysses belong to us; are there dangers at hand, we must try to love them. And if only we arrange our life according to that principle which counsels us that we must always hold to the difficult, then that which now still seems to us most alien will become what we most trust and find most faithful. How should we be able to forget those ancient dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses: perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrible in its deepest being is something helpless that wants help from us.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
After watching the clip of Elizabeth Gilbert’s talk at the 2009 TED conference on nurturing creativity, I was totally inspired... and very surprised. Elizabeth Gilbert’s book, Eat, Pray, Love had a profound effect on my life. I remember being totally awed by the fact that this woman could drop out of life completely and go in search of herself abroad. If I could have taken any one of those three journeys for even of the fraction of the time she did I would have been ecstatic. I had been longing for years to take a sojourn inward and just be with myself. I wanted desperately to unplug and go somewhere and ponder and write with no distractions and no interruptions. For many years this was my burning desire. So to say that I envied Elizabeth Gilbert would be putting it mildly. Not only did she get to take one year off to travel and immerse herself in foreign culture, she found the love of her life, came to terms with herself, and wrote about it in a book that sold 1.5 million copies. If that’s not “having it all” I don’t know what is.
You can imagine my surprise when I listened to the lecture from the conference. She presents a very interesting and poignant theory about how to better manage the creative process and confesses that she had to do some research on this topic to manage her own difficulties since her book has been published. “What difficulty could you possibly be referring to Elizabeth?” Being mobbed at book signings or getting recognized at the supermarket? Such problems, I wish I had them. No, she’s talking about the possibility that at 40 years old she had already done her best work and that it’s all downhill from here. She’s currently in the process of trying to write her next book but instead has found herself fighting for her creative life. Who would have thought that finally arriving meant coming to terms with the most painful aspect of the artist’s life: that you’ve already said everything that you’re going to say, that anything you do from this point on will always fall short of what you did before. Not exactly the tools of inspiration and as she says in the lecture the reason why many a young artist succumbs to self-destruction.
So I thank you Elizabeth Gilbert for being so public with your struggle because now instead of envying you, I feel for you and I am reminded that we’re all struggling...with something. We may be in different places on the ladder but the difficulties are no less painful the further up you go. We never really arrive. There’s always more to do. It’s all a process. And as the Buddhists have been saying all these years: there is no there, only here.
You can imagine my surprise when I listened to the lecture from the conference. She presents a very interesting and poignant theory about how to better manage the creative process and confesses that she had to do some research on this topic to manage her own difficulties since her book has been published. “What difficulty could you possibly be referring to Elizabeth?” Being mobbed at book signings or getting recognized at the supermarket? Such problems, I wish I had them. No, she’s talking about the possibility that at 40 years old she had already done her best work and that it’s all downhill from here. She’s currently in the process of trying to write her next book but instead has found herself fighting for her creative life. Who would have thought that finally arriving meant coming to terms with the most painful aspect of the artist’s life: that you’ve already said everything that you’re going to say, that anything you do from this point on will always fall short of what you did before. Not exactly the tools of inspiration and as she says in the lecture the reason why many a young artist succumbs to self-destruction.
So I thank you Elizabeth Gilbert for being so public with your struggle because now instead of envying you, I feel for you and I am reminded that we’re all struggling...with something. We may be in different places on the ladder but the difficulties are no less painful the further up you go. We never really arrive. There’s always more to do. It’s all a process. And as the Buddhists have been saying all these years: there is no there, only here.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
45 Lessons That Life Taught Me
This was a column from The Plain Dealer in Ohio written by Regina Bret. Just a little something to make you stop and think...
45 Lessons That Life Taught Me
1. Life isn't fair,but it's still good.
2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.
5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.
8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.
9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.
10. When it comes to chocolate,resistance is futile.
11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.
12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.
13. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
14. If a relationship has to be a secret,you shouldn't be in it.
15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.
16. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.
17. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
18. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.
20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.
21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.
22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.
23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.
24. The most important sex organ is the brain.
25. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.
26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'
27. Always choose life.
28. Forgive everyone everything.
29. What other people think of you is none of your business.
30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.
31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
32. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
33. Believe in miracles.
34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.
35. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.
37. Your children get only one childhood.
38. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.
40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.
41. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
42. The best is yet to come.
43. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
44. Yield.
45. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift."
Saturday, July 4, 2009
In any competitive situation, whoever has the least interest, has the most power.
When I read this quote, it just about knocked me over.
The quote is from The Joy Diet by Martha Beck What’s funny is that I had been working on a blog post for the last couple of weeks about want. You know, the things you have buried so deep in your consciousness they’ve practically disappeared? Those things that if you were able to have/acheive them, would give you a sense of peace/accomplishment/contentment? Those things that if you had them, would make your heart sing? Notice you don’t ever tell them to anyone, least of all yourself.
As a life coach I always begin by asking my clients what they want in the different areas of their lives. The process of coaching is an inquiry into want, but want is also a vehicle. It is our desire for various things in life that propels us into action. Whether it’s the desire for something (money)or the desire to keep something from happening (losing our jobs) desire is the prime mover. Yet, it is so difficult to articulate our wants. I’ve noticed that most people are either afraid of them or they have spent so many years denying them that they can’t even locate their desires. Helping people to identify their wants and lay down a plan for actually getting them is to me the most rewarding thing I can do.
In any competitive situation, whoever has the least interest, has the most power.
The quote is referring to the basis of all Buddhist doctrine which is the concept of detachment. Detachment is a rough concept to grasp. Wanting something, doing everything in your power to make it happen, but letting go of the outcome takes a lot of discipline. Holding on too tightly to the outcome causes tension and impedes performance. Professional athletes aren’t focused on winning when they compete, it’s focused on playing the game to the best of their ability.
There’s a movie in theaters right now that is a documentary about the casting of the 2004 revival of A Chorus Line. In the movie Rachelle Rak, who is a veteran broadway performer is up for the role of Sheila. If you know the show, Sheila is the provocative, somewhat bitter, sexy, older dancer whose quick wit is ready with a comeback at any moment. Rachelle could not be more right for the part. In the course of the movie there are many interviews with the dancers who are being considered for roles. In one of the interviews Rachelle comes right out and says that she doesn’t want to let herself think about getting the role because she doesn’t want to have to experience the devastation she will feel if she doesn’t get it. It is clear that she is afraid of her wanting.
One of the pivotal scenes of the movie takes place during the final call backs, eight months after the first audition. There have been numerous dance and vocal auditions and it is finally the end of the line. Now it is down to yes or no. Unfortunately it is a “no” for Rachelle. When her agent tells her the news, she doesn’t even flinch. She made some flip comment like “you have no idea how Broadway wants me, you have no idea” and took her things and left. No emotion, no tears, no nothing. HER REACTION WAS SO SHIELA.
Why do we think if we pretend not to want something that we really want that it will somehow lessen the hurt when we don’t get it?
What Rachelle did has nothing to do with detachment--as a matter of fact it was just the opposite. She didn’t just want the role--she needed the role. Her entire career was riding on it. Wants are tricky. You need to know what you want and go after it, but then you have to let go of the outcome. It requires serious trust; trust that if you don’t get what you want there’s a really good reason--or there’s something better coming down the path. It’s a careful dance this one of manifestation. You need to know when to push and when to let go.
When I read this quote, it just about knocked me over.
The quote is from The Joy Diet by Martha Beck What’s funny is that I had been working on a blog post for the last couple of weeks about want. You know, the things you have buried so deep in your consciousness they’ve practically disappeared? Those things that if you were able to have/acheive them, would give you a sense of peace/accomplishment/contentment? Those things that if you had them, would make your heart sing? Notice you don’t ever tell them to anyone, least of all yourself.
As a life coach I always begin by asking my clients what they want in the different areas of their lives. The process of coaching is an inquiry into want, but want is also a vehicle. It is our desire for various things in life that propels us into action. Whether it’s the desire for something (money)or the desire to keep something from happening (losing our jobs) desire is the prime mover. Yet, it is so difficult to articulate our wants. I’ve noticed that most people are either afraid of them or they have spent so many years denying them that they can’t even locate their desires. Helping people to identify their wants and lay down a plan for actually getting them is to me the most rewarding thing I can do.
In any competitive situation, whoever has the least interest, has the most power.
The quote is referring to the basis of all Buddhist doctrine which is the concept of detachment. Detachment is a rough concept to grasp. Wanting something, doing everything in your power to make it happen, but letting go of the outcome takes a lot of discipline. Holding on too tightly to the outcome causes tension and impedes performance. Professional athletes aren’t focused on winning when they compete, it’s focused on playing the game to the best of their ability.
There’s a movie in theaters right now that is a documentary about the casting of the 2004 revival of A Chorus Line. In the movie Rachelle Rak, who is a veteran broadway performer is up for the role of Sheila. If you know the show, Sheila is the provocative, somewhat bitter, sexy, older dancer whose quick wit is ready with a comeback at any moment. Rachelle could not be more right for the part. In the course of the movie there are many interviews with the dancers who are being considered for roles. In one of the interviews Rachelle comes right out and says that she doesn’t want to let herself think about getting the role because she doesn’t want to have to experience the devastation she will feel if she doesn’t get it. It is clear that she is afraid of her wanting.
One of the pivotal scenes of the movie takes place during the final call backs, eight months after the first audition. There have been numerous dance and vocal auditions and it is finally the end of the line. Now it is down to yes or no. Unfortunately it is a “no” for Rachelle. When her agent tells her the news, she doesn’t even flinch. She made some flip comment like “you have no idea how Broadway wants me, you have no idea” and took her things and left. No emotion, no tears, no nothing. HER REACTION WAS SO SHIELA.
Why do we think if we pretend not to want something that we really want that it will somehow lessen the hurt when we don’t get it?
What Rachelle did has nothing to do with detachment--as a matter of fact it was just the opposite. She didn’t just want the role--she needed the role. Her entire career was riding on it. Wants are tricky. You need to know what you want and go after it, but then you have to let go of the outcome. It requires serious trust; trust that if you don’t get what you want there’s a really good reason--or there’s something better coming down the path. It’s a careful dance this one of manifestation. You need to know when to push and when to let go.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Call Them Out!
I had an interesting conversation with a close friend yesterday. While we don’t get to speak all that much there is such a deep connection between the two of us that I often feel like we’re living parallel lives but not necessarily in synch. Our world views and life philosophies are very much the same and thus our interpretations of what happens in our lives and our reactions to things tend to be similar--she totally gets me and I totally get her.
She is in between a business that she started which dissolved very quickly and trying to figure out what she should do next for work. There are a lot of options open to her, she just has to decide what direction she wants to go in. Of course it’s easy for me, being on the outside of the situation to make a pithy assessment of everything but she’s having a rough time of it. I’ve been down the road she’s on--the road of having to reinvent myself and create something from nothing. Anyone who has their own business is often in the business of creating something from nothing and let me tell you, it 's exhausting. My friend being the brilliant writer that she is had a great analogy for what she’s been feeling--she said she’s got too much “drag.” Drag is a technical term for one of the aerodyamic forces that acts on an airplane. When there’s too much drag on a plane, it won’t take flight. Right away I had a visceral sensation of being dragged down as she began to name the elements that make up her drag. I’ve been having my own challenges lately and feeling pretty stuck and got me thinking about what my “drag” is... At first I could not think of one single thing but after I gave it some time here’s what I came up with:
The belief that manifesting anything is difficult.
The belief that I don’t have the capability to accomplish the things I need to and I can’t get anyone to help me.
The belief that there is always something in the way of getting what I want.
The belief that there is always something that I have to fix about myself or some life circumstance that I have to overcome before I can be happy.
I cannot tell you what a relief it was to just name these things. Such a simple exercise yet there’s something about calling these things out into the light of day where I can see them that totally deflates them. I really wasn’t aware of the degree that these beliefs were affecting my life. Knowing what they are is the first step to changing them. When I stopped to think about it, I realized that most of these things aren’t even true. They’re something that my psyche has constructed to keep me stressed out and terminally unhappy--states that I had grown accustomed to living in in the past and my brain was just doing its thing to recreate what’s familiar.
Looking at my drag was like that scene in The Wizard Of Oz when Dorothy finally gets the ruby slippers and is told that the thing she’s been most afraid of (the wicked witch of the west) no longer has any power over her.
My plan for next time I get together with Jean is for both of us to put our drag on the table, out in the open. Name it, look at it, let it go and in doing so take away its power. I invite you my dear readers to comment and in those comments, throw your “drag” on the table as a way of letting go of old things that no longer serve you and while you do repeat after Glinda, “You have no power here, now be gone!
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