A safe harbor where beliefs are respected and kindness prevails.

The Kid I Never Knew

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IMG_2548I truly love the synchronicities of the Universe. I believe they happen all the time but most of us are only occasionally aware of them.

For example, last weekend we hosted a private retreat in our home for two of our friends who are seeking to take their practices deeper and open up to the loving heart that is at their core.

During one of our discussions on the Sunday of the retreat, I shared with them the story of my Mom telling me at 8 years old to stop being the parent. I said back to her, “Well one of us has to be!” *

My mom and her lovely friends got such a kick out it. I remember getting mad – I was an 8 year old who thought that I was so mature and willing to take the reins of control in an adult world.

This story fit in to their personal retreat as we discussed why we humans have control issues and why we try hard to keep uncertainty and vulnerability at bay. Something I had obviously been doing since at least 8 years old.

This morning, by opening one particular email, I experienced a synchronicity that took my own story to a new level.  I subscribe to the newsletters of a fitness, nutrition and juicing expert named Drew Canole. The title of his Monday, 10/5/2015 Newsletter was: Stop Being An Adult and Let Your Inner Child Free.

The “Stop Being An Adult” from Drew and “Stop Being the Parent” from my own story with my mom, was close enough to make it feel like a personal message from the Universe. Coincidence—-hmmmmm.  Synchronicity——-Yes!

Drew’s message is about looking back at the carefree times of childhood when we saw everything with new eyes and wonder – A time when most children are not self-conscious about running to the ice cream truck or playing games with their friends.

I think this is a great reminder for those of you who have memories of times of being carefree and not being self-conscious. But what about the rest of us? I have a feeling that I am not the only one who doesn’t remember a time like that.

It seemed “being a kid” did not come natural to me.  In my childhood, my mom loved to play board games and she would beg me to play with her – but, they seemed silly to me. I can’t remember a time when I was not conscious of my actions and how they might be perceived by others.  Kids my age weren’t my favorite group to be around.  I preferred the company of adults. Strangely enough I felt like those who had 20, 30, 40 years on me were my peers.

We all have our story. And our story is ours to have and to hold or to let go and move on.  Interestingly, I have been feeling the “absence of a full fledge childhood,” and I have been wondering how I can reclaim one now as an adult.

As Drew says in his video, “Kids teach us something magical. They can teach us through ‘play’ how to live, laugh and love and to truly enjoy our time here in this life.”  Right on Drew!

In the realm of Yoga as a spiritual way of life rather than just poses, we cultivate practices and a way of living that help us to re-open and rediscover our hearts. It is in our hearts, our pure hearts that we come to know a life of love, compassion and joy.  And like a child, we share it outwardly with others to make the circle complete.

My brother and sister in law, Mark and Eileen have two beautiful grandkids ages three and one who adore them. They love hanging out with Yaya and Papa because these two ‘adults in chronological years’, build tents in the living room,  play dress up, paint rocks, go to the zoo, the park……

They encourage Brooke and Bryce to be kids full on without holding back.

I know we all have responsibilities and need to make a living but can we open ourselves up to doing it with joy and maybe even a little wonder and excitement?

One of our retreat participants, who is a Ph.D. and has a well-established career, told me that she wondered if she had not yet learned to be a responsible adult. She explained that she has so many interests, so much passion for exploring and being playful that are all related to children.

Hold on to it Rita!  Most of us are hoping to rediscover those qualities or for some of us to cultivate them for the first time.

What do you want from your one precious life? If joy, happiness and an open heart are on your list, take some time to be with and observe a child or two or maybe a whole playground.

I think it’s time for me to make the 5 and younger set my peers. I recently started taking five minutes each day to bang on my bongo set. I am buying a canvas and some paints to start my painting career. I am going to squeeze in some daydream time to my week as well.

I invite you to join me. Rekindle a relationship with the kid you were long ago or come to know the Kid you never knew. How exciting to start on a new relationship with yourself.

Come on, I’ll race you to the big tree and back. And let’s celebrate whoever wins and then just keeping playing.

Choose to enjoy your life. Bet you can!

Peace,

Rob Dorgan

*The full story is in our October 2015 Themes for Life.

How Is It Possible for Hate and Love to Collide?

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Let me be clear: I hated Yoga. I have attended a Yoga class about a half dozen times over the past 15 years, and I hated – absolutely HATED – each and every one of them. The first time I went I hated it, and each time afterwards I went with a friend who asked me to go with them, and I hated it even more.

I would deeply regret being there as soon as the class would start. I was too prideful to simply walk out, so I would stay for the torture and force my body to make as good a showing as I could. No matter what, I would NOT be the one to quit.

From beginning to end, I would be cussing in my head. I kid you not. Every single moment sounded like this, “I can’t believe this sh##, why the fu## am I fu##ing here? This is by far the absolute stupidest thing you’ve ever done, Janet. You know you fu##ing hate this sh##, why the hell did you come, again? Fu## everybody! This is total bullsh##,” and on and on and on. Incessantly.

I hope you now understand that I hated Yoga.

Throughout the years, I have had friends who swear by it. I would share my disdain for it and they would recommend that I just stick with it. I would laugh. “Yeah, right,” I’d tell them.

One of my exercise DVDs has a small section of power Yoga right after the stretches at the start of the video. I would dread doing it, but in my dogged determination to get healthy after having been obese, I would do it. It was only about three minutes of torture, so I endured it. It’s been about one year since I’ve played that particular DVD, so I don’t miss doing that part at all.

Why I attended a Yoga class last week (for the first time in, literally, 10 years) I’ll never know. But, I went. I was shocked to find that it wasn’t that bad. There were a few times when I wanted to walk out because it got quite difficult for me, but I stayed with it.

The complete and total miracle was that I wasn’t cussing in my head the entire time. I think I may have cussed once or twice, but I quickly moved through it. I actually couldn’t believe the slight feeling of exhilaration I felt towards the end of the class. I think I felt like a total badass because I actually got through it, and dripping sweat from head to toe felt pretty good also. I had thoroughly stretched my boundaries (pun intended).

“Who are you, and what have you done with Janet?” I thought, as I checked the Yoga class schedule a few days later. I was tickled that I planned to go back, and when I did, I had a somewhat rocky start, but soon settled into it. I didn’t feel that sense of exhilaration like the first time. I guess as they say, the first high is the best and it’s downhill from there. But, I felt a happy and badass sense of accomplishment nonetheless.

While listening to the instructor’s voice during class, her words hit home: I made the connection of listening to my breath while moving from pose to pose, trying not to strain and keeping my breath nice, relaxed and even.

I started to get the hang of it. Rather than overachieving like in the past, I was gentle about listening to my body and allowing it to do what it could and taking breaks when I needed them. When I noticed that I was listening to my body, it brought me to a new level of understanding about myself. This was certainly an unexpected revelation.

But today, just today – my fifth Yoga class in two weeks – as I was sweating my butt off, I was grateful that the class was winding down. While settling into a pose, I noticed that I have long legs. And I thanked them for being so strong. Never before had I felt or expressed that. I realized I was connecting with my body in a brand new way.

And that’s when my tears began to flow. At that moment I realized how long I have been disconnected from my body. I already knew that I disconnected from it before first grade after I was sexually violated. I had long since already honored what I did to survive. I had already made peace with the fact that I ate for comfort. I had already become my own best friend during my dogged determination to heal myself.

All these years, no matter what I did, no matter how I had abused my body, it was rolling right along with me. Wherever I was in my mind and spirit, whether hurt, perturbed, annoyed or otherwise, my body reflected my state of mind perfectly. Whether I was overeating, overdrinking, over smoking or otherwise ignoring its needs, it changed according to my actions and choices And, it stayed strong and loyal as if it was a loving puppy waiting for some positive attention from its master.

And in that moment, all of my hard work flashed before me. Every single ounce of pain in my life felt like it was worth it for this one moment of revelation, this one moment of awareness, this one moment of clarity. In recent years my level of gratitude had already been through the roof, and today marked a deeper sense of it that was both humbling and profound.

I could actually feel my body releasing the trauma that was in there. I could hear my spirit guides whisper to me, “This is the fulfilled promise from all of your hard work.” The awareness rippled through my body like a pebble piercing the surface of a lake.

In a flash I understood that everything I had done, all of the strides I had made, all of the focus and attention I devoted to my healing journey, led to this moment of inexpressible alignment, consciousness and understanding. There’s no forcing it and there’s no rushing it. Everything happens in its own time.

I imagine that I will continue attending Yoga classes. While I don’t expect to experience fireworks every time, I look forward to shutting down the stimuli of my day and having focused moments of attention aligning with my body, strengthening the bond we established today.

I am so grateful for having been awakened to the sacred connection between me and my body, and wish you the same joy in whatever way it reveals itself to you. That will be the promise fulfilled from all of your hard work, and I celebrate it with you right now, in anticipation of its arrival.

www.janetdthomas.com

Nothing – Everything – Nothing

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Fall Colors 021I live in an area that is not quite the Mid-West, it’s certainly not the South, it’s far too west to be called the East and a little to south to be the North. It’s a place I call home and it’s that time of year to begin to put the garden away for the winter. This means cleaning out flower beds, raking leaves, cutting back plants and putting things into the shed for storage. It’s a cycle that happens every year – year after year.

There’s a calm and simple stillness that the garden has from now until April. The winter garden is a true beauty that more often than not, goes unnoticed. We tend to the garden’s needs at the end of the season and then move into our own winter cocoon – sometimes forgetting to even look out at the empty beds and withered grass. When I tend to the garden this time of year, there’s also a little excitement for me and I have those moments of, “Oh cool, next year, I’ll do this instead: and I’ll move these over here….” -all kinds of plans, because I know that they will come back – that they will once again be vibrant and full of color and life.

This time of year also marks the anniversary of my Father’s passing. For the last ten years, I have toasted to his life and have mourned his absence. The garden he was part of, or his “Tribe” as he called us, has moved forward. It has continued to bloom and thrive and grow, but the tall tree in the middle has not come back. As a wise man once told me, “His Absence has become his Presence.” I like that!

Now, this month I add another name to the list of those whose presence will be missed. Last week, one of my cousins, who is very much a contemporary of mine, died of a massive heart attack. No longer will her flowers bloom in my Tribe’s garden.

So, as I put my garden away for the winter; as the plant’s blooms cease and the leaves turn brown, I think about those in my tribe who have passed. The Iris, Black-eyed Susan, Primrose, Roses, Hydrangea and Dalia are just like us. They come from nothing – they are everything, full of life and color – they then return to nothing. But unlike us, these plants have a seed or bulb we can still see and we trust that once again, they will burst into life.

I wish it were like that with us. I wish there were a seed we would leave behind, a promise that we will return. But alas, there is not. Or, is there?

Science tells us, energy cannot be created nor destroyed – it just changes shape. At the very base, we are energy – we are animated by a spark. The outer casing or our bodies are just a vehicle or house for this spark. It is a place for which the spark can express itself. Now, that opens the floor to a lot of questions for me! Some of which are, “Where did this spark come from?” and “Where does it go after it leaves the body?” We can only guess, right?

Eastern teachings state that all of creation; from the dandelion, to the robin to each one of us is simply an expression of the Divine, or Shakti. Shakti is the creative force that gives rise to everything – it wants to experience all things from the smallest to the largest and the most hideous to the most beautiful. It cares not how it is expressed and therefore all forms of this expression are equal. When one aspect of Shakti’s expression withers and dies, another form comes bursting to life. But it is the cycle that we are so afraid of – especially the death part when it comes to our own Being. Because once we die, what’s next? This is called “The Human Dilemma”. As we know it, we are born, we grow and learn, we have experiences of love and hate, we serve others or we hoard our resources and then one day…we take our last breath. It happens to all of us and it is that thought that scares us more than anything else. Eastern Religions also tell us that there are five causes of suffering: they are: Ego, Attachment, Aversion, Ignorance and Fear of Death. They also say that to be happy, we must recognize these causes of suffering and free ourselves of them.

Through mindful living and keeping ourselves present in every moment, we begin to still the ego brain. It is our ego which labels experiences or things as good or bad. It is our ego which judges all things based on our attachments and aversions and this then leads to false beliefs. It is our ego that tells us that this physical body is immortal – as long as we keep ourselves busy with our likes and dislikes, we can hold death away from our doors. But by keeping ourselves mindful and present we see life as it is – a string of events that are all equal, no one thing better or worse than another.

So, as I reflect on the passing of my cousin, I try not to judge the experience. She lived as she did; she interacted with the world and then took her last breath. It is what we all will do – like the billions who have gone before us, like every expression of Shakti.

Her particular flower or expression of Shakti will be missed. I now welcome a new energy source into my garden however this new expression will be.

Peace,
Steve Bolia

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