The miracle in your eyes

The only lessons in life are the one's we teach ourselves. The universe is never 'out to teach us a lesson'. Remember -- the universe doesn't care. It's up to us to care enough to learn to make a difference in our lives.

"The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them." Thomas Merton.

Take a mirror. Any mirror. Stare long and lovingly into the eyes you see reflected back. Pause. Take a breath. Look long and lovingly into the eyes you see. Pause. Take a breathe. Gaze long and lovingly into your eyes.

Take a breath. Repeat after me. I am a miracle of love.

Every day miracles come in every day happenings.

Teutonic plates shift. Planets collide. I step aside and open up to possibility.

Yesterday, I felt the angst. That fissure of anxiety steaming up from my roots. Disturbing. Disruptive. It erupts with a tiny voice gaining momentum as it pushes upward, rising above the dankness of the past. Beating its fists against my peace of mind, it pounds a querulous tattoo of "you gotta gotta" and "get 'em before they get you's" against my knowing voice of reason and rationality.

Being in relationship is tough. Not because of him. Because of me. The fight or flee voices quarrel over who should gain supremacy. The in the moment voice of calmness waits for its hearing, sitting out the drama as these two monoliths consume the air with fiery tongues, unfurling their discord across the landscape of my mind, sending tendrils of anxiety shivering through my body.

There is no specificity to their disruptive flare up. No reason for their frantic barking for release, -- except perhaps, deep visceral fear. Fear that spews discord with every thought, fighting for me to act out, take heed, take their advice and 'do something', anything to make this moment go away so that they can settle back again into their comfort zones knowing I'm not stepping beyond their control, stepping out of my past into this moment where I am free to be all that I am meant to be.

The voices of discord do not like contentment. They do not like new frames of mind, new perspectives, new ways of being. They don't like freedom.

It is in those moments when I do not give into my anxiety that growth opens up my thinking as I expand into the moment.

Yesterday was one of those days. Yesterday, I felt the angst. That voice rising within telling me I needed to call, needed to demand answers, needed to end this. Change this. Make it more. Make it something else. Make it other than the lovely thing it is. I needed to 'know'. Know what? Where are we going? What's happening?

A pattern. It lies before me coddled by childhood voices, scratching for clarity, for security, for acknowledgement amidst an uncertain world, and undetermined future.

But when the here and now is flowing freely, why do I want to see the future? Can I not accept what is, without having to see what cannot be seen? Can I not accept what is as the perfect moment to breathe into, to live up, to experience, exactly the way it is?

Seems the voices of the past like to clamour for space when all is going well in the moment. They don't like stability. They don't like calmness. They don't like being ignored.

In every day moments miracles appear. This one came in a glance in a mirror. A breath drawn that calmed and centered my thinking. My anxiety has nothing to do with what's going on and everything to do with what's not going on -- turmoil, drama, uncertainty, fear, a hungry heart aching for replenishment.

In a glance in the mirror I was reminded of who I am, right now, today. Where I am, right now today. I'm not toiling through a web of deceit. I'm not scurrying through a dark and narrow corridor filled with lies searching for truth. I'm not aching for a man to fill me up with promises he can never keep. I'm not being anyone or anywhere I don't want to be.

That's the miracle waiting for me in the mirror. As long as I pause. Breathe, and settle into the moment without pushing my way through to the next I claim my peace of mind undeterred and undiminished by voices rising from the past.

The past cannot hurt me, as long as I put it into perspective, place it lovingly where it belongs and sail smoothly and joyfully into this moment, right now, right here, without fear that the past will be the present leading to the future.

The past cannot repeat itself as long as I don't repeat the mistakes I made when I was searching so desperately for meaning I threw myself in someone else's arms expecting to find my answers.

This is my rebirth. My awakening. I pull away the dark cloths hiding the mirror to my truth and embrace the awesome joy of living in this moment, right now, exactly where I am as I rejoice in the awe and wonder of being me.

I am the gift I've been looking for, the answers I've been searching for, the heart I've been waiting for as I fill my spirit up with the truth that my heart will never be hungry as long as I stand in love with the one whose eyes I see staring back at me when I look into the mirror and acknowledge, I am a miracle of love.

The question is: Will you pause, take a deep and steady breath, look into the mirror and see the miracle of you? Are you willing to love yourself right now, right here, enough to know you heartache is your spirit calling you home?

Is it an excuse or simply a fact?

This is my 200th post. I started writing here on March 10th. At first, my writing was sporadic and then on March 21 I made a commitment to write every day in this space. Except for last Sunday, I haven't missed a day.

Building muscle memory makes a difference.

It wasn't a habit when I first began. It wasn't a need or really even a want. At first, it was an outlet, something that seemed like a good idea, maybe.

Now, it's habit, it's a need, a want, an idea that keeps working inside me, propelling me forward.

I made a commitment to myself, and I'm keeping it.

If I can make this commitment and keep it, then there must be others I can do too.

Like, losing weight, saving money, writing another book, learning another language.

Author and business coach, Peter Drucker wrote, “Unless commitment is made, there are only promises and hopes; but no plans.”

What's my plan? I started writing this blog with the idea of using it to keep me committed to writing. Now, I've shifted my focus away from my commitment to writing -- I have that. This blog has become my impetus for writing my next book. My eldest daughter who reads it faithfully is encouraging me to compile the writings into book format -- not a bad idea -- but I need a plan.

And that's where I stumble. I have to make the commitment to do it and I'm afraid.

Why?

Fear of falling rises high.

Last night at Project Forward (it's a course I run for clients at the homeless shelter where I work) we talked about some of the reasons why we don't achieve our goals, or are hesitant to even set goals in the first place. It was pretty apparent that we all shared certain 'beliefs' as to why we didn't do what we want to do in life, or felt unhappy about the lives we are living. Here's some of the answers we came up with last night.

1. Low Self-esteem: If I know my self-esteem is holding me back, keeping me from trying, it's a fact, not an excuse. Using it as the reason why I'm not doing what I say I want to do is just my way of copping out on myself. It's up to me to turn up for me.


2. Lack of knowledge: I can follow the fool's path or the wisdom path. It's up to me. If I want to do something and don't know how, the fastest route to getting to where I want to be is to learn from those who have been there before. Take a course, read a book, never give up on learning.


3. Disappointment: Yup, that idea didn't work out, that person didn't do what they said they would, that boat didn't sail in -- and the reason that holds me back from trying again? They are all just excuses. The reality is, if I never try, nothing will ever happen. If I accept defeat before I begin, victory will never become a reality. If something didn't work the first time, try again -- but first, learn from what went wrong! I can't keep repeating my same mistakes again and again in the hopes I'll get a different outcome.


4. Rebellion: One of my favourites! I have a rebellious nature -- a residual from childhood that does not serve me well in adulthood. Letting my rebellious streak undermine me is an excuse. The fact is, being a rebel keeps me stuck in the past. Letting my fearless nature drive me forward, taking risk, exploring new territory, new ideas -- those are my strengths. It's up to me to use them wisely.


5. Lack of faith: This is a close cousin of Disappointment. Lack of faith keeps me from stretching my wings because I anticipate the fall rather than the flight. Lack of faith holds me back from leaping because I fear the unknown. It's up to me. I can choose to hold myself on the edge of the void and never leap, or I can choose to have faith, to believe the universe is filled with abundance, with unlimited possibilities and soar. My choice.

Life is made up of my choices throughout the day. Driving to work I choose which road I take -- sometimes I take my habitual route, somedays I mix it up. Even the choice to drive versus take public transit is a statement I make about myself. I could take transit and walk -- I'm choosing otherwise. And, I have a lot of reasons to rationalize my choice. Need to take a look at them and determine if walking would be more proactive, more helpful in getting me towards my goal of losing 30lbs!

So, here's my commitment. To write an outline for a book based on my writings here. My working title: The Question Is? Everyday writings to inspire your day. My goal is to have the outline completed by October 25th. First draft of the book completed by January 31, 2008 and a query letter off to publishers by December 9, 2007.

There, I've got a plan. It's up to me to make the commitment to act on it. It's up to me to be true to myself.

The question is: What's your plan and are you willing to act on it? What facts do you need to shine light on that are masquerading as your excuses for not keeping your commitments to yourself?

Is it You, or is it Me?

When I was a child, my father taught me a little verse that has stayed with me throughout my life. I've no idea who the author is, but the words are pretty profound, even today.

He who knows not and knows not he knows not, he is a fool, shun him.

He who knows, and knows not he knows, he is asleep, awaken him.

He who knows not, and knows he knows not, he is willing, teach him.

He who knows and knows he knows, he is wise, follow him.

I know and I know that I know.


Long ago when I was lost in the hell of an abusive relationship, I didn't feel like I knew anything. I didn't feel. I turned off every emotion I could wrap my mind around and sank into despair. I shut down my thinking, tuned out of my senses and mired myself in not being willing to know what I knew was happening in my life. I stuck myself in 'not-knowing' what to do so that I could avoid doing anything.

Sure, I still read books to inspire me, but every word reverberated off the messages swimming in my brain, that I told myself I knew were true; Ha! this stuff is for everyone else, not for you. Ha! Easy for him to say, he doesn't have your life. Ha! Think positive. There is nothing positive to think where my life is concerned. And the biggie, Embrace life. Ha! How can you embrace life when you want to die, when you deserve to die, when you should be dead?

Now, those words were pretty limiting and self-denigrating. Even more importantly, as I wrote those words today, I started to write using the 'I', but realized quickly that back then in my unknowningness, "I" wasn't part of the picture, "You" was. I didn't claim my self-identity. I didn't claim my place in the world, I disassociated through the "You". I knew I wasn't 'worthy', and thus I separated from the "I" of my existence, and held myself in the "you".

I hear it often still today in other people's stories. "You can't really change until you figure out what you want to change," a co-worker said to me awhile ago when talking about losing weight. Thing is, I know that I can't really change anything until I claim the fact it's me who needs to change, not you.

Which statement feels more comfortable, aka powerful, for you, "It's hard to feel grateful for the things you have when you're constantly running to keep up." or "It's hard to feel grateful for the things I don't have when I'm constantly running to keep up.
In the second version of that sentence, the instance I use my "I" and put myself into the equation, I know I'm a victim. I know I'm letting go of my power.

Check it out. Watch your language today. Are you a habitual 'youer', or do you claim your place at centre stage of your words? Are you willing to be powerful in your own life by speaking in the "I" about yourself?

Do you know and know what you know? or are you willing to stand up tall and claim your right in I know and I know that I know.

Do it for a few days. Watch, listen, observe. Check out your language and check into whether or not you are "I-ing" your way through each moment, or letting yourself off the hook in the 'you-ing' of your life.

I first learned the power of "I" language when I was in my teens. For my Grade 13 biology class I chose a thesis approach -- I hated cutting up frogs. I pitched my teacher on letting me do a course for Grade 3 and 4 students -- the focus was to create a vicarious learning environment, to break down barriers of communication and to help the students focus their attention on who they are so that they could build better bridges of understanding with their classmates, their friends and their families.

One of the first classes I taught was on "I" language. Already at the age of 11 and 12, these students had let go of their "I" and stepped into the "you".

"You know, when you go to the movies and you just hate sitting there beside some guy who's got a cold and you can't move cause it's the last seat in the theatre and you know you're gonna have a cold by the end of the show."

'You' don't go to the movies unless 'I' do (and you can't actually have a cold in 2 hours!).

Is it you, or is it, ME?

The question is: The language we use is very powerful, are you willing to watch yours and get into the "I" of speaking up for yourself? Are you willing to step into your power by claiming your "I" at centre stage of your life?

Counting on time

A new week, a new month. The calendar pages turn, October arrives on a whiff of burning leaves, mornings crisp like the edges of a golden leaf curled up against frost's encroachment and gravity's inexorable pull towards the ground.

I made a choice not to write yesterday. C.C. and I had spent Saturday driving through southern Alberta, taking backroads and dirt tracks, exploring places neither of us had ever been, witnessing falls glorious unfolding through the foothills of the Rockies. We arrived back into the city late, our spirit's refreshed from our travels. So, when yesterday arose with the same splendour, I let myself unfold with the ease and grace of the leaves turning.

When a leaf turns, it doesn't get to choose its colour. It just turns. Yesterday, I decided to follow suit. To simply let my day unfold without forcing it into one direction or packing each moment up with so many 'to do's' I miss the colours turning. I had one commitment to keep last evening -- and other than that, it was a day without structure.

At 9 am, a girlfriend called and asked if I wanted to go to the Centre for Positive Living with her. Good idea! I did it. When I got home, I started cleaning -- hadn't intended to, but one swipe of the kitchen counter led to the next, until the entire kitchen was sparkling and I was filled with the satisfaction of a job well done. Without conscious effort, my bedroom closet opened itself up to possibilities. Summer clothes were looking a bit too light and flimsy in autumn's frost, and so I began the process of changing over the seasonal garb. Eventually, the puppies needed a walk, C.C. joined me and the day unfolded with a natural and smooth rhythm I don't often experience.

Too often, my life is a series of 'must do's' inextricably tied to the constant passing of hands across a clock's face. With exacting precision, I measure time out in carefully steeped portions of so many minutes to get through before the next 'to do'. Every moment accounted for, shaken out and beaten like a goose down quilt to ensure not a single moment is left lying undisturbed, I fill the time allotted and fill my day with time passing. In the process, focussed on how much time I have or don't have, I miss passing through the day in step with the world around me.

What a joy to spend a day without feeling time's pressure ticking in the background.

I have no idea who wrote this but I like this quote: “Don’t count every hour in the day, make every hour in the day count.”

Yesterday, I wasn't counting the hours. I was living each moment as it arrived, not measuring time, but rather, measuring my movements, filling each moment with what I was doing, not what I was thinking about doing next.

The question is: Where does time's passing determine how you pass your day rather than passing your day in time with the moment? Where does time determine what kind of day you have?

Falling from grace and other high places

Yesterday, Mark wrote and commented that in his view I was victimized in that relationship with Conrad and therefore did not fall from grace.

Yes, Conrad victimized me. He lied and cheated and deceived in order to get what he wanted. However, I chose, albeit not necessarily consciously, to let go of my values and beliefs in order to fit into his needs, in order to have the tantalizing aura of 'love' he held out before me and for which I kept reaching -- and coming back empty. No matter what he did, I made choices that kept me locked in his unholy embrace because my hungry heart, my desire to be 'loved like no one had ever loved me before' blinded me to the truth of what he was doing and kept me from seeing my own worthiness, my completeness, my loveliness.

I cannot be accountable for Conrad's actions. For what he did and said that caused such pain in my life. In holding him accountable, I also hold myself accountable for what I did. No matter how dark my life became I am responsible for my actions, my words, my deeds that caused such pain in the lives of those I love. In giving up on me and giving into him I betrayed a sacred trust -- to protect my children from harm, to be accountable, to be responsible to be the adult in their lives.

Author, Ann Lamott writes, “I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.”

Because I journeyed so far away from my beliefs, principles and values, I lost the mystical qualities of grace in my life before I met Conrad. Sure, he did a lot to lure me away -- but I am the one who chose to continue to compromise my principles in order to not look at what he was doing that was causing me such harm. Grace was with me on that road to hell, and I kept walking away.

In my blindness, my daughters trust was betrayed. In my silence, I hurt the two people in the world to whom I was most accountable and for whom I was responsible.

It was a mighty fall.

Being a mother is for me a state of grace. It is a gift. A privilege. A sacred trust.

Once upon a time, I held a place of trust in the hearts of two young girls who loved me and believed I would never hurt them.

I fell.

I broke that trust.

In my fall, I taught my daughters I am fallible, human, and sometimes weak. In my fall, my daughters also learned the world is not a safe place. They learned that their mother lied, that she could hide the truth, that she could abandon them. Those are not lessons I ever wanted to teach my children. They deserved better. They deserved more.

Today, they get my more. I am blessed. I have been given the grace to heal, to reclaim my right to be the mother they deserve, to reconnect the circle of love into which they were born. I am blessed because in our journey into healing, my daughters embraced me with the grace of forgiveness, just as I have embraced myself with forgiveness for all that I did that hurt me and those I love.

The gift in falling comes when we get up.

In getting up, in claiming my right to live at centre stage of my own life, in asking for forgiveness and in making amends, I have taught my daughters that fear is the opportunity to be courageous. I have taught them that you cannot heal or change what you do not acknowledge. I have taught them that the power is not in the past, it is in what I do today to create a beautiful life, to honour my flawless imperfection of being human and to honour the many gifts of grace that find me on the journey of life and hold me lovingly in the light of love.

Once upon a time, I didn't value the grace within my life. I didn't believe grace wanted to find me.

Today I know the truth. I am blessed.

The question is: Where do you place your value? Do you grace someone else's words about you as the truth of your value? Or do you live in a state of grace where you stand true to the awesome beauty and wonder of who you are, exactly the way you are in this moment.

Making a difference

Yesterday I gave my presentation, Victor not Victim, a Woman's journey away from abuse, to a group of victim advocates.

Yesterday, I found myself drifting back into that time, remembering facets of that journey I had forgotten until now.

How strange.

But maybe not.

The mind is a powerful tool. It holds information, sifts through it, sorts it, stores it in disparate parts of the brain until such time as we can or cannot deal with it.

Last night, at the Dale Carnegie Course I take every Thursday evening, we had to give a 2 minute presentation on something we've accomplished that makes us proud of ourselves. I hadn't intended to use the writing of The Dandelion Spirit as my event, but found myself pulling it together into 2 minutes.

Last night, in giving my presentation, I gained clarity on why I talk about abuse, why I share my story, why I do what I do.

I want to make a difference. I want to inspire people to live beautiful lives today -- regardless of what brought them here.

In telling the story of my fall from grace, and my rising up from the ashes of that descent into hell to live my life passionately, fearlessly and freely today, I acknowledge that the past is gone. It's over. Finished. I can learn from it, grow from it, change from it -- but I cannot change the past. Utlimately, it is not the past that makes a difference in my life today. It's what I do today that makes the difference. It's who I am, how I live my life in this moment that creates the beautiful life I deserve.

When I was speaking with the group of victim advocates yesterday I told them about my experiences with the justice system and Corrections Canada. Everyone was superb, I told them. They supported me. Treated me with dignity. Gave me encouragement when I needed it, even when I didn't heed it. I told them about a police officer I met early on in that relationship the first time I tried to break free. He told me that what Conrad was doing wasn't love -- "Love shouldn't hurt so much you want to die," he said.

At the time, I didn't heed the officer's words. But they stayed with me. When I was released from that hell, his words surfaced and reminded me of the truth -- what Conrad had done had nothing to do with me, and nothing to do with love. What he had done wasn't about me. What I do, what I did at the time -- had everything to do with me. It was my responsibility to ensure that what I did was a reflection of me. It was my responsibility to heal so that I could live a life free of abuse -- and free of the fear that what was then could once again be now.

Three years after hearing them, that officer's words resonated. They gave me courage. They helped me make sense of something that didn't make sense at all.

I told the victim advocates yesterday that while it may seem the people with whom they work don't 'get it', they need to know that their words and what they do, has power. Their words resonate somewhere within each person with whom they speak. Their power may not manifest itself today, but somewhere down the road, that person will hear their words and feel encouraged, feel safe, feel understood.

When I write here, when I speak, I cannot know the impact of my words. I can only speak my truth and know that what I am doing is important for me. It is part of my purpose.

I want to make a difference.

I can't end abuse in someone else's life. I can't change an abuser from what he or she is doing. I can, however, end abuse in my life -- and I can live by my example. When I stand true to my principles, when I uphold my values and beliefs, I do not need to compromise on my truth. I do not need to conform to someone else's belief they know what is best for me.

In making a difference in my own life, I believe I inspire others to do the same. I believe I make a difference.

The question is: Where ae you holding onto the past for fear the present will never be different? do you make a difference in your life today?

My Six Principles for Daily Living

“It takes more courage to reveal insecurities than to hide them, more strength to relate to people than to dominate them, more 'manhood' to abide by thought-out principles rather than blind reflex. Toughness is in the soul and spirit, not in muscles and an immature mind." Alex Karras

Yesterday, I challenged myself to write my six principles for daily living. It was more complex a task than I thought.

First, there's the little voice inside me that whispers, 'rather grandiose of you Louise to think you can write such a thing." Secondly, there's the indecision, the questioning, the looking at the truth -- do I really uphold these principles in my everyday living? Do I really live by these principles in everything I do and say?

Not sure I do every moment of every day, but -- and here's the beauty of taking the time to consciously write out what I believe are the principles that are important to me -- they are principles that I want to live by, principles that guide me in every thing I do and say.

When I know better, I do better. In writing about the principles I believe in, I learn more about where I am, and what I want in my life. I learn more about me -- my insecurities, my strengths, my belief structure. I have a measuring stick against which to gauge my progress, minute by minute, encounter by encounter. I have a rock solid foundation upon which to build my life.

I believe we are all connected. That when I live by the Golden Rule, 'do unto others as you would have them do unto you', I am accountable for everything I do and say. When I respect the differences between me and my fellow man, when I honour who I am by making room for who others are, I am walking my truth, being the difference I want to create in the world by connecting to what is important to me and the world around me.

I believe we are all magnificent human beings, capable of greatness in everything we do. I believe in my own personal significance. That who I am, what I do makes a difference. It is my responsibility to recognize my gifts, acknowledge them and use them wisely. It is my responsibility to step softly, to ensure my footsteps are like butterfly kisses, each imprint inspires imagination, but leaves no mark to mar the surface upon which they passed.

I believe I am responsible for my own happiness, and I trust others to be responsible for theirs. I am happiest when I am living a principled life, acknowledging my dreams and taking action to make them come true. Like happiness, my dreams are my responsibility to bring to fruition.

I believe kindness counts. That being kind creates a more caring world. When I care for the universe, everything and everyone in it, I am contributing to a better world and creating a world of value in everything I do, and every where I go.

I believe in honesty and truth. When I honour someone with my truth, I am opening the door for their truth to enter. When I am honest with myself, I love myself exactly the way I am. When I look at myself honestly and truthfully, I give myself grace to lovingly acknowledge my short-comings, my inconsistencies, my fallibilities. In my truth, I set myself free to change the things I do that hurt me and those around me.

I believe in treating all people with respect. How I treat people is a reflection of who I am. It's my responsibility to be the best me I can be at all times.

The question is: Have you written down your principles? If not, what are you waiting for?