When results and efforts disagree: defining growth

Photo by m. on Unsplash.

Now that we’ve surpassed the five-month mark into our new adventure on the mountain (see After the Leap), due to a three-week setback with COVID early on—as well as multiple challenges that have taken precedence—it often seems we have little to show for our efforts. Especially…[read more]

Brave enough: finding strength to admit our brokenness

 

From the start, my purpose for writing “A nasty word called addiction…” centered on a message of hope and redemption, as well as a way to mark a milestone in my own journey of healing. It’s no secret that many of us suffer in silence from a laundry list of afflictions. Yet, the older I get, the more I feel a kinship with those who hide behind the fake smiles, the false bravado. Because I, too, share the DNA of brokenness. Yet, as I navigate—aka stumble, skip or sidle (depending on the day)—this season of Club 50, I often entertain second thoughts about broaching various “taboo” topics in conversation or my writing. However, if we’re unwilling to allow ourselves the discomfort of vulnerability, then we miss an opportunity to engage in deeper connection with humanity, and ourselves. Transparency, I believe, serves as a catalyst to healing and a collective oneness. And affords us strength when we’re brave enough to admit our brokenness.

Are you brave enough?

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

A time for everything: the key is in the knowing when

I can obsess over life’s minutiae with the best of them. Pounce on an idea or thought, roll it around, pound it out, stretch it and kneed it, worry it and ruminate on it—until I become paralyzed—hashing and rehashing, attempting to establish if or when I took a wrong turn, misjudged or misunderstood. Oftentimes, I seek freedom from my thoughts through journaling, a safe place where I scrawl my uncensored soul across the pages of my college-ruled notebook. Mostly, though, I pray. Absolved of conventions about where or when or how, I unearth solace on the mountain trails. Just me and God and nature’s playground. It’s here where I often find the answers—and healing—I seek. I’ve mentioned it before, how there’s a time for everything according to the Good Book: A time to keep and a time to throw away… a time to be silent and a time to speak. The key is in the knowing when.

Do you struggle with the knowing when?

Set it and let it go: how to be fully present

 

This past week I attended a gong meditation at the yoga studio where I practice. If you’ve never tried a gong “bath,” I highly recommend it—if only for a bit of respite from the outside world. The benefits? I’ve read that the sound of the gong cuts through our mental chatter—the monkey mind—to create a meditative state of deep relaxation to promote healing and stress reduction. Talk about a win-win. Personally speaking, I also experienced an emotional release, including overwhelming gratitude that began in the mountains earlier that day to return full circle on my mat, tears streaming down my face. In addition, I learned that when we set an intention, it’s good to set it and let it: go. Oftentimes we get stuck on the expectation behind our intention, which can lead to disappointment. However, when we practice “setting it and letting it go,” we free ourselves to remain fully present in the moment.

What intention do you need to set and let go?

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Sifting through the muck to reach the prize

What seems to us as bitter trials
are often blessings in disguise. ~ Oscar Wilde

For the past couple of weeks I’ve wrestled with psychological and emotional baggage that’s over 30 years in the making (and not flattering), which has also triggered a nasty case of monkey mind (also not pretty—see ‘Revisiting…’). Then add in to the mix an extra dose of restlessness that stems from myriad [new] dreams I dared dream and laid the foundation for last year, which I hope to begin living out in 2017. And most of the areas I’m working on will not and cannot realize change overnight. After all, it’s impossible to rush something you hope to last forever… or at least as long as you’re breathing. Any type of growth takes time. Healing—physical, emotional, spiritual or mental—takes time, too. I just need to remind myself of this while I wade through each trial to discover my own personal blessing.

Do you count them as today’s trials or blessings?

Image courtesy of fantasista at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

All things are possible

Miracles occur daily. From the sun rising to setting to opening our eyes each morning, we witness marvels on a day-to-day basis. Even the seed of hope we plant in our hearts—to bring about transformation in our lives and the lives of others—is a miracle waiting to happen. My post, Be the change, focuses on being what we want in order to manifest more of what we desire; i.e., if we covet more love, we must be more loving, etc. During the past four weeks, as I’ve bid adieu to my forties and jumped headlong into the fifties, I’ve engaged in a personal makeover of sorts. It entails reflection, prayer and specific assignments that challenge me daily. In the process, I’ve discovered forgiveness, healing and growth, as well as an understanding that, as we change, it’s possible to effect change around us. But this requires living with intention and being true to ourselves. Always.

What possibilities do you hope come to pass in the New Year?

Image courtesy of Greenleaf Designs at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Purging and prioritizing: housekeeping for the soul

Hard, this life thing. Over the past few weeks I’ve engaged in significant housekeeping tasks that, below the surface, denote a clean slate—a ‘starting over’ in practice and in theory. On the home front, I’ve tackled clutter and tossed what is no longer necessary, bagged up things to be sorted through eventually and donated items I hope might bless others. My personal life also experienced a collective loss, which has become the catalyst toward a sense of peace and healing—an opportunity to put my priorities in right order, to live with intention instead of allowing life to happen to me. Every regret or mistake I’ve made is a lesson learned, a temporary memory purged much like photos that fade over time or are deleted off a hard drive. And then replaced by the truth of knowing I’m finally on the right path as I leave behind my self-centered ways and prepare to step into my fabulous new life.

How do you ‘get over’ regrets or mistakes?

Bikram Bikram Bikram

[Image credit: ponsuwan]

Since I’ve gotten hooked on the hot Yoga craze, I’ve been asked if Bikram is “un”Christian.  Although I haven’t conducted hours of research on the background for each pose and the Sanskrit language behind the moves, I can say that after taking 12 of the 90-minute classes, I am unable to find anything “un”Christian about it.  And to me it appears more holistic rather than agnostic or atheistic.  There is a particular resting pose which allows the blood to flow normally after various vessel-constricting moves; however, during this time the student is encouraged to stay present in the room.  There are no spirits conjured or gods worshipped; instead, we’re told to leave bad thoughts and the weight of the day outside of the room while we do good things for our complete bodies in the room.  Yoga is healing me from the inside out — a gift I’m thankful for each day.  Time to run — I’m planning on attending noon Bikram.

What healing or feel-good gift do you support?

A state of limbo

[Image credit: digitalart]

Limbo: a state or place of confinement; an intermediate place or state.  Instead of a rut this time, I would define this (limbo) as my current place of residence.  For months I’ve been trying to figure out what’s going on with my GI tract (doctor appointment next week) and skin issues (derm follow-up in June), my writing career is neither coming nor going, my fitness results seem to be stalled and my dreams are hinged on a Someday with no set date or time.  Although I’m not taking the clichéd one step forward and two steps back, I’m also not moving ahead as fast as I’d like.  Maybe that’s the point — the purpose of my limbo as a time for healing, refining, pushing through and practicing patience.  I wouldn’t be able to manage these tasks if life was traveling a mile a minute.  It also allows me to relax in a pair of comfy shorts and tank top, hair thrown into a messy ponytail and face free of makeup on a weekend afternoon, knowing that time will not pass me by.  Perhaps limbo isn’t so bad after all.

How do you spend your times of limbo?