February 1, 2010
It is mostly about how to feel good right now but it also is a bit about how to attract more of what you want. Really, really want into your life. Yes, thoughts are very important and we should become masters of our thoughts through self inquiry because they tell us what direction we are pointed in and where we are going. But thoughts only come to life when we feel into them and call them true.
Feelings are the engine in the big ship called life. They move us closer to our focus, good or bad, because how we feel drives our actions.
So if you are ready to start feeling better right now let’s begin with the end in mind and imagine that you already have it, already achieved it, already have become that which you are seeking. Your imagination is one of the greatest tools you have in feeling better right now. So let’s use it.
What do YOU want?
- Take your answer and for a few minutes describe exactly what having it right now feels like. Focus on the details. Use your mind’s eye and marinate in the feelings your picture creates.
- Why do you want it? What does it feel like to have it? What does it smell like? Taste like? What is the texture? What kind of person are you in this scenario? What kind of things do you say?
- Practice asking yourself different questions until you can feel the reality of your dream with every ounce of your being. Then…
- Detach and let go
This is called growing your feelings. It allows us to feel better right now while moving into vibrational alignment with our goal, and the more we practice, the sooner we clear the path for it to manifest into our everyday existence.
See if you feel better.
“Your imagination is your preview of life’s coming attraction.” – Albert Einstein
October 22, 2009
I hate her.
I grew my toenails out and cut them into points. We were 8 and if sister bedmate crossed the line – I wasn’t afraid to cut.
I love her.
I backed the fair bully into a pig stall and told her I would kick her ass, make her eat swine shit, and tell everyone she loved it if she didn’t leave my family alone. No one picks on my sister, but me.
I hate her.
I tied all her shoes together, called her a fat cow, and said, “I choose my friends but you, you I just got stuck with.”
I love her.
I was terrified and I was sick. I didn’t have ‘it’ anymore. I had lost my nerve. But, I practiced for months, I knew the songs and I stood up in front of everyone and poured the heart of my music into the church of her choice. It was her day. The day she married her beloved.
I hate her.
I screamed at her that she was undependable, unreliable and a pathetic excuse for a sister. I threw her stuff on the floor and stormed out. She had locked my keys in my apartment over the weekend and trapped my dog inside. I couldn’t get in. It was late. How could she be so stupid? I mean come on, all she had to do was walk the damn dog and she couldn’t even get that right.
I love her.
Life got hard. Really hard, and she didn’t want to see anyone. No one understood and I was 1500 miles away. So, I did what any big sister does… I booked the trip, flew back home and filled the room where she slept with presents. At sunrise we had a surprise baby shower, just the three of us.
I hate her.
It’s been a year since we’ve talked. Why doesn’t she call? I’m the one who was always there. I wasn’t the best sister (I didn’t tell the worst things I have done) but I was the one who loved her with all of my heart. I was the one that listened. I was the one that showed up. Dammit. Why, why doesn’t she call?
She is my family, my best friend, my sister, my mirror, and my person. She is an extension of who I am. When I breathe, it is part of her I exhale. Everyday. And in this moment, I’m still figuring out who I am without her.
I love her.
October 14, 2009
- It’s rich. It’s bold. A touch of class, wrapped in gold. Or the down and dirty give it to me now type: I like both in my scotch and my chocolate… especially when I call it dinner.
- Yo Yo Ma. Oh. Oh. Ohhhhh. Yo. YO. MaaaaAAAAA.
- Panties. I rarely wear ’em. Sometimes a little lace against my skin gets me going and makes me aware of all that is under where? Oh yeah, under there.
- Bass. Bass at home. Bass in a bar. Bass at a club. Bass in the back of a car with a big… ya know, bass. I love bass.
- Sweating. The heart pounding, heavy breathing, dripping wet kind.
- My favorite FMP’s. No man required. They make me hot.
- Storms. My, my Nature’s gotta a naughty way with foreplay. Maybe it’s the rumble… maybe it’s the electricity. But anything that vibrates and lights up works for me.
- Music with a beat. Music that makes me move. Music that starts with some heat and finishes in a groove.
- Outfits with an attitude. Especially those that carry a theme: sexy school teacher, rocker with pearls, proper without panties. Contradiction is causation for an eternal hard on.
- Books. They can be young or old, fresh or wise, hard or… traded in for something new.
October 11, 2009
I am just me. And as me, just being me, I can tell you that I have the attention span of a gnat, a voracious appetite for adventure, a mouth that curses like a sailor gone wrong, and an inner child that lives balls out.
I have screwed up a lot. I mean it. A LOT. I like this about me. It is what makes me a great friend and a great coach. Beyond the entertainment value, you know there is never any judgment. I have most likely been in your shoes. Not once will I say “I told you so…” I usually go in the opposite direction of well meaning advice from others. You will never hear that I have all the answers, because only you know your truth. All of my mistakes, whimsical decisions, and cracker jack choices are why I know a lot about how to pick your self back up and put yourself together, again.
“I have climbed the ladder of success wrong by wrong.”
– Mae West
It is called the art of turning inward. Each blunder offers us the opportunity to repeatedly demonstrate that only the thoughts around what we are experiencing have the ability to perpetuate our suffering or set us free. This is why it is so important to ask really great questions; because in return, we get really great answers.
If I didn’t know these things, I would be dead. Seriously. Not getting it right the first time means that I got really good at practice and even better at practicing my practice.
If you want to uncover the catalyst that drives your behavior come sit next to me. I don’t know your answers, but I do have some blow your mind, no bullshit allowed, tools in my belt to assist you in becoming the navigator of your life.
October 4, 2009
This titillating trio is what I will spend the rest of my life experiencing in outrageous splendor. Living, touching, and breathing my trifecta, from the inside out. Passion is life lived and it is meant to be spent relishing in the details, bathing in exploration, diving into the depths, and moving into rhythm of a new understanding.
God isn’t dead. She is found in what excites you. He is hidden where arousal begins. Turn yourself on with the possibility of life and the Universe cannot help but to court your desires.
“Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive and then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” -Henry Thurman
What turns you on? Does the life you lead make you feel aroused and excited? Where do you find passion everyday? What does making love to your essential self look life? Are you smitten with this moment?
October 1, 2009
Stories are told highlighting the success of an individual, one who overcomes all odds on his way to declaring victory. The main character looks adversity in the eye, and goes to battle. In our tales, conflict is experienced and a few small battles are lost along the way but the majority of the focus lies in the final outcome: The big W against the fabled war.
These stories are at the very essence of human nature and it is even better when we can fit our modern mythology into an action packed two hour big screen production. I too enjoy the entertainment but what I am most interested in is the process that brought the hero(ine) to the outcome. What were they telling themselves each time an obstacle was placed in their path? What were they thinking along the way? What is their belief system? What is their method for creating goals and achieving them? Now, this is the stuff I live for.
What I know is that challenges are not won by those who are the most gifted, the most intelligent, the ones with the most luck… but by those with the greatest perseverance, the most passion and always, always by those with the most dedication to practice. Our past President Calvin Coolidge states it best:
“Nothing in the world can take the place of perseverance. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Perseverance and determination alone are omnipotent.”
In my Raw Food and Hot Yoga challenge this is what I have learned:
- I clearly underestimated the emotional and physical strength necessary to complete this challenge
- I absolutely overestimated my beginning level of fitness
- In order to continue to move forward mental flexibility is required
- My food selection is a mirror of my inner world
- The understanding that mistakes will be made and finding the beauty and acceptance in imperfection
- I am learning how to: Try Easy
- I am capable of much more than I think I am
- Practice, practice, practice
I have struggled with unexpected physical issues and this has impacted my consistency. I contracted strep (two days out). I pinched my sciatic nerve that made yoga impossible (3 days out). I let my mind run willy nilly which also cost me (2 days).
I think this is an important part of the story to tell. I have not performed perfectly and I have not achieved what I set out to do… yet. I am, however, learning how to turtle step my way thru big ideas, creating a deeper level of self intimacy, and most importantly I am developing the art of practice.
September 24, 2009
I have a confession. A confession of all confessions for it boldly stands in contradiction to what I thought my belief system was. I’ve come to a place in life where I win the majority of battles against that which I must declare, but sometimes, on days like today where the victor seems unsure, I sneak upstairs alone to the refuge of my chair. It is here, in my seat of surrender, where I allow my neurosis to seep out. And as I sit and ponder, my thoughts gently slide under awareness into the dark seduction of an unquestioned mind. This is dangerous territory to walk alone, and most certainly not to be explored unarmed.
On the terrain of limiting thoughts, anxiety begins to rise as I curse the truth and vanity of it: I’m not perfect. I’m not perfect, life isn’t easy, I’m not living up to my potential, I’m too intense, too different, I really won’t fulfill my dreams, but mostly I’m just upset that I can’t get things just right. And that most certainly means I’m unlovable.
I know, I know. Trust me. I know what you are thinking. “Well, that is stupid. Who the hell is? Do ‘The Work’! There is no such thing as perfect. What does that even mean? Get over yourself, girl. Pull up your boots, slap yourself in the ass, and keep marching forward.”
These are my thoughts too, on a good day. On a bad day I feel unlovable, disgusting, and perverted. Don’t ask me why imperfection means perversion in my mind, but on days like today, it does. The shocking truth is that I’m not upset about the realization that I’m imperfect, that has been blatantly obvious to all for quite a while… I’m pissed that somewhere deep down I believe I ought to be. Gross.
So, instead of challenging my thoughts, I wallowed in it. I didn’t take the higher road. I ate dark chocolate from Godiva, a variety of mystery selections from my beloved Indian joint and had a play date with my good friend Chip and his gal, Salsa. I indulged in white wine and totally blew off yoga to veg on the couch with The Wall. I gave the finger to my yoga challenge and chalked it up to no one cares anyway.
That was yesterday. Today, that no one who cares is me. I care. I care that I believed those things about myself and I care that I set myself up for failure. I thought the thoughts that sabotage, and I chose to believe them. I ate things that were not a part of my challenge, I chose things that didn’t make me feel good, I didn’t show up to yoga, and I told myself no one cares. For all of the negative beliefs that were running around in my mind I found past evidence to prove them all true. Once I found the proof that I really am imperfect and unlovable I drove the point home by demonstrating the behavior again.
But here is the thing. That was yesterday and I have the tools. I know what to do. So, this time I’m continuing the challenge in its blemished perfection. My two day excursion from the guidelines has NOT turned into a week long bender. Or even worse, I haven’t thrown my hands up completely. For me, this is a huge step forward. I’m taking down the poles that pitch my pity party tent by finding proof that I can, proof where I am strong, evidence to show that I am capable of consistency and flexibility. This challenge is about completing something to the best of my ability and sometimes the best that I have to offer comes with mistakes along the way. But, I am learning from them, I am evolving my relationship with myself, and I am fully living this experience. Now, that is perfection I can stand up for.
September 21, 2009
The tales of my life, painted beautifully upon the canvas of Middle America, have the underlying theme titled: Scale Woes. Or, perhaps a more accurate depiction would be: Fuck the Scale. I remember each phase of my life as a size; a vivid memory of portion control… which portion of my booty was fitting into my jeans. All major events come to pass would be remembered in numbers and all numbers would determine the outcome of the event. Low weight and body fat percentages meant high times. High weight and body fat results led to low times, canceled play dates, and forced solitude. I was the weighted hermit or the social-light.
I can still bring to mind the curve of the numbers and the way the red lights lit up the scale that day, the day of my first date with the high school dream. The guy every girl dreamed about dating and the boy all other guys wanted to be. He was three years older with golden hair, bronzed skin, piercing blue eyes, the body to fit the all American athlete he was, and the guy who was way, waaaay out of my league. I remember noticing him, noticing me.
As I caught his gaze shock began to spread throughout my body and I realized that I must have done something wrong. Was there something on my shirt… on my face? As a self admitted klutz, I’m forever spilling on myself or falling and scoring yet another set of grass stains on my already marked clothing. Grace was not endowed upon birth. In fact, it was blatantly missing. How I received rhythm but was missing coordination is just a cruel joke. But as I glanced back, he was still watching, and with a grin and a raise of his eyebrow, I knew. He was interested. And I was having an anxiety attack.
It was the night of our high school play where I was proudly performing the dueling dancing hooker in The Unsinkable Molly Brown. It must have been the tasteful flashing of my twoolahs around the stage that sealed the deal, for that night he asked me out. Me. Three years younger, with braces and without boobs.
The birds began to chirp, the orchestra was leaning into crescendo, and fireworks exploded in the background as I whispered “yes, yes I will go out with you.” In my hussy getup I floated backstage to await my next rump shaking scene in a daze.
In this moment a shutter click took place and my pubescent fairytale set in stone an ideal, yet unrealistic weight that served as the benchmark of my self worth for the next ten years.
September 19, 2009
My relationship with food illustrates what is taught to us throughout so many spiritual texts in different form: As above so below; as within so without. What I crave is always representation of what is going on in my inner world. If I am ungrounded, lost in turmoil, or have given my mind control I am driven to eat dead (processed) junk that mirrors back to me how I am feeling internally. In contrast, when my internal world is filled with love, light, and peace I’m naturally attracted to the same vibration in my food. High greens, lots of juice, vegetables, and fruit become my drug of choice in order to maintain my natural high and ecstasy is found in these water filled foods that radiate life force energy.
Because I made a commitment to show up to yoga everyday I am forced to remain present and conscious with my dietary decisions. My main question that I use when I approach food is, “how is this going to make me feel?” It is wretched to try and stretch my way through class when it is 105 degrees when I have the weight of Satan in my belly. It is awful to have heartburn from undigested gruel and impossible with even the hint of a hangover. So, I don’t engage in these things. And it has been easy. The surprising thing is that I have struggled with moderation in all of these areas in the past (food and booze) and it was never ‘easy’. This challenge I set an intention with absolute commitment, detached and let go. And this time, something amazing has started to unfold.
September 14, 2009
To date, my relationship with exercise has existed on mental terrain and today was an epic battle: Me vs. The Whine. My inner dialogue is filled with a plethora of reasons on why I should skip yoga, why I can’t make it all the way thru class, why I should sit out a pose, or why I don’t really need to exercise today.
I knew that excuses would arise and I have practiced for them; there would be times that my body would ache, that I would feel bone tired, emotionally drained, and apathetic to my goal. That I wouldn’t want to show up, think about not going since no one else would be the wiser, or flirt with chalking it up to a dramatic wistful whim. Yes, I knew this moment would come and I would go to class anyway.
As we began our first flowing posture this evening my self doubt was deafening while I started searching for my exit strategy. I felt weak, exhausted, and angry. My shoulders burned and I thought there was no way in hell I could take another 55 minutes. I questioned the challenge. I hated the teacher. I cursed myself. And I began to buy into the idea that I would never be able to achieve anything that I set my mind to. Sweet Lord, what did I get myself into and why in the world did I post it on a blog?
I acknowledged the thoughts and sent focus to my breath. Just Breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in, move into the pose, breathe out into the posture and deepen. Breath in new energy, breathe out that which doesn’t serve me. Breathe in and begin to flow, breathe out and let it go. Breathe in. Breathe out. Just Breathe, breathe, breathe…
The class came to an end and while lying in a resting pose I began to weep. I made it thru the session and it wasn’t as hard as my excuses. I had come to the end and it wasn’t as wrenching as my self doubt. How many times do I count myself out because I’m terrified of failure? How many times have I quit when things get hard?
I found more strength tonight than I knew I carried. I loosened the mantra of can’t and gave energy to faith and gentle discipline. Tonight I stretched the boundaries of who I am and breathed life into the person I want to become. Tonight, was a good night.