what grounds me ...

This was on my mind all weekend ... What grounds me? And How do I ground myself? How can I recover inner stability and calm even when it feels like wave after wave repeatedly knocks me over? 

I was thinking how the knocking over maybe isn't what wears me out; it is the repeated getting back up, getting back on track. Or ... here is a big shift in perspective ... what if I'm not being knocked over so much as I fall down when I see a wave coming at me? Could I instead root myself, be calm, be still and let the wave wash over me?

Hmm ...

The gift of a lifetime of practice is that without thinking much, I gravitate towards those things that bring me back to center. There is effort involved, there is a conscious decision "I need to steady myself" but the action, the gesture arise out of habit. I think of these gestures like roll starting a car ... they get me going in the direction I want to go. This past week it has been through painting. I can make things so complicated, so I know to start small, stay simple. A 6 by 6 inch board ... look around, what catches my eye? What captures my heart?  Oh yeah ... these faces ...

Freya

Abbie (angel guide for this Wild Heart)

I sit at my kitchen island and while the water is boiling for pasta, I reach for my journal and draw what is before me (which is the bounty of my garden):

Working in the garden is naturally grounding, as is standing in front of the kitchen sink peeling and chopping tomato after tomato for sauces and freezing and making vats of gazpacho soup with more gifts - red and green peppers, jalapenos and cucumbers - from this summer's garden. We've had quite a bumper crop and while I am relieved to see the end in sight, I know too soon I will miss the flavor and the ease of wandering outside to grab the ingrediants for our dinner.

Then there is my new routine which is flavoring my drinking water with a sprig of mint or lemon balm (from the garden, of course!) and a drop of wild orange essential oil.

The Husband jokes about the positive prana (life force energy) in a glass, but I can feel the shift in my attitude and in my energy. I also add a drop of cedarwood essential oil to my face lotion or apply a drop to my heart center and the warm, woody fragrance brings immediate comfort and grounding to me. The smell reminds me of summers spent at my uncle's house and the cedar chest where my aunt kept all of their treasures. A favorite afternoon activity would be sitting on the bed, examining the quilts, the old dresses and scarves lovingly tucked away in the chest. 

Taking time to step back and examine my place in this vast web of family, friendships, and the circuitous wanderings that have brought me to this point, this moment in my life ... this is how quell the vertigo that is symptomatic of life-out-of-balance. 

Out of alignment for me means overly fixating upon myself as separate, as alone. Realigning requires a shift in perspective as I open myself up to that which holds me - holds all of life - in a field of vast and pure potentiality and infinite possibility.

Our family on our nine year "anniversary"

It's love, baby. Love steadies and holds me. Love is my reset button. Even when the waves rise high above me if I tether myself to Love, I will never be washed away.  I can get frustrated by my constant forgetting of this simple truth OR I can delight in the continual rediscovery of Love's immense power to soothe, to protect, to heal and to grow. 

Truly, the wise proclaim that love is the only path, love is the only God, and love is the only scripture. Impress this verse upon your memory and chant it constantly if you want to realize your dreams of growth. Love is the wish-fulfilling stone. Only love can bring unity and remove the separation between all living things. Only love purifies the body and mind. Love is not far away. Love is as close as your heart. You can find it living there without walking a single step. Love is my only path. I am, in fact, a pilgrim on the path of love.
- Swami Kripalu (from Sayings of Swami Kripalu, edited by Richard Faulds)

honoring my boundaries

If there is one theme running throughout my present life and within many of the circles I inhabit, it would be boundaries.  Personal or relationship boundaries: defining, clarifying, honoring and maintaining them.

I wonder if anyone older than thirty ever had healthy boundaries modeled for them?  Certainly in my family of origin, running rough-shod over personal space, never mind emotional space, was the norm.  It was my father's house damn it and that authority trumped all.  Emotional manipulation, passive aggressive behavior and martyr complex thrived in that environment. 

Much of my adult life has been spent dismantling unhealthy boundaries; getting at the negative  attitudes and behaviors while mindfully constructing positive, affirming ones.  Boundaries Boot Camp has been vital in bringing awareness to deeply rooted habits of being while holding out new tools in addressing and understanding boundary work.

A new aha (and duh, and of course!) came about when mapping out my circles of intimacy.  With myself in the middle, who - or what - occupies the concentric ring or circle directly adjacent to me ... the ring representing my most intimate of relationships?  Surprise! My most intimate relationships are not with my partner or my child (they occupy the next ring out) but with Spirit (or Source), with Nature, and with Creativity.

The relationship where I show up my most vulnerable and authentic self is not with another person, but with myself. 

Thinking about those relationships, I have to consider how I establish and maintain healthy boundaries.  Or conversely: how do I violate the terms of those relationships?  Do I disrespect or dishonor those connections and if so, how? More importantly, if at the most inner ring or core of my map of relationships there is a rupture, how does that ripple out into all my relationships?

Not the kind of questions to answer in one afternoon ... 

I believe at the foundation of healthy boundaries is a sense of self worth and self respect.  Right now, I am considering how I may disregard my relationship with creative source or creativity whenever I fail to show up for it.  What showing up looks like for me is listening deeply, and allowing space and time for expression and presence to flower and unfold.

exploring drawing with my non-dominant hand ... my new favorite way in!

Beyond any purpose I may believe my creative works exists to perform,  there exists a need for that creative expression to simply be.  For no other reason than it is a part of who I am and how I express my gratitude for the mystery and magic of being alive. Creative expression is how I honor the sacred presence that is me (and is all of us) and it is how I converse with that presence. 

Essential is space for play and exploration ... to question and, in my own language, craft my responses.  

on-going dialogue with Van Gogh; project idea from Studying Under the Masters course with Jeanne Oliver

How I want others to honor and respect my boundaries, I must extend to myself. When I dismiss my work -  when I devalue or talk smack about it; when I disregard its priority in my life; when I discount its cries for care; when I sacrifice it for "more important things" -  I am engaged in boundary violation ... with myself.

Instead, I pledge to respect, nurture, listen and tend to my Creativity.  I pledge to honor play, curiosity, exploration and adventure as core values that both everyday mom-me wishes to foster in our home, and more intimately, through relationship with Creativity and Source.  

Screech Owl á la Van Gogh

No more excuses ... change is afoot!

Learning as I go ...

"Gardens, like children, are forgiving; gardens grow. Love, even clumsy and unrefined, cultivates. Time, unhurried, is never wasted."

(Karen Maezen Miller, Hand Wash Cold: Care Instructions for an Ordinary Life)

I often tell my yoga students that the best way to understand a posture, especially the balancing poses, is through the struggle to attain them.  Attempting to balance on one leg, the act of falling out of balance teaches us what is missing and the process of returning again and again to the pose reinforces where our center is and what constitutes balance in our own body.  

So after the struggles of the previous few weeks, I am reminded once again that parenting isn't so much about getting it right, avoiding struggles or conflicts, but climbing back into the  arena with an open heart, fully present, open to new possibilities, and willing to risk falling down in order to learn how to stand up.

I find it curious I received several emails and private messages in response to my post on my mothering struggles.  I think so many of us hold this unexamined belief that others have a handle on this gig called parenting, whereas we somehow missed the class and are woefully ill equipped and in over our heads. But examined in the light of day and the light of reality and reasonableness, I recognize the absurdity of those assumptions.  Still, I know I am driven by irrational fear of exposure as a sham, as incompetent, a bad parent and that fear can silence me. Bravery is speaking my truth and listening yours; sharing our truths (the nitty gritty and the triumphant) is the means of liberation, hope and inspiration.

I am grateful for writers like Anne Lamott and Karen Maezen Miller who share with their readers their crooked journeys, missteps and misadventures if only to remind us we all are learning as we go.  And that's okay.  Maybe it is the best way, for then I am eternally responding to what is before me, rather than reacting to how I believe things ought to be, or how they were yesterday, last week, last year.  Because if there is one magically frustrating and inspiring thing I've experienced parenting my daughter, it is that she is always growing, changing, shifting, becoming.

Days after our family meltdown, I read this post which bumped me back on track.  As much as I want to make the journey easy for my girl, clearing out obstacles, bubble-wrapping the sharp edges, imparting to her the insights I've gain through heartache and suffering, that is not my role.  

"In hindsight, it seems to me that she has been waiting for me to stop imparting to her. To stop imposing on her, to stop judging, coercing, undermining, and second-guessing her, as if she were the proof of my able foresight and good intentions." (Karen Maezen Miller) 

This past week I've been subbing as a teacher's aide in the preschool class at Cowgirl's school.  I am learning so much from the teacher and the other aides who clearly love what they do and care deeply for each child and work hard to coax out his or her potential.  It has been reassuring for me to know Cowgirl is in this environment. (I know, not all teachers are equal, but we have been blessed by some truly saint-like in patience and enthusiasm teachers and I want to give a shout out for all those teachers - especially the ones in public schools - who do show up passionate and caring.  Because, my goddess, after a couple of days I am emptied and drained!)  Watching these teachers respond to the meltdowns was instructive.  They never coddled, never brushed away the incident.  What they did do was support the child to understand their accomplishments that day, to guide them to stretch a bit further in order to expand their abilities.  Taking small hands and redirecting them ... holding the scissors so they smile at you, guide the paper with the other hand  ... keep going ... look!  Look at what you just did!

Rushing in from my lunch break, I passed through the lunch room just as Cowgirl's lunch period begins.  She was sitting at the table, head down, face hidden.  My heart sank as a recognized the body language of "something's wrong."  I rushed over to her and sat down. Leaning my head in, I tried to coax from her what had happened.  Big, hot tears rolled down her cheeks.  She wouldn't answer me and she wouldn't take my comfort.  Finally, one of the lunchroom teachers noticed the distress and came over.  I reminded Cowgirl that in order for her to find a solution, she had to tell us what was wrong.  The teacher then stepped in and I realize this was my cue to step away.  For what mattered here was not my smoothing things out, but for her to know support is out there and waiting for her.  She just has to speak up and ask and by doing so, will discover she is the agent of her own solutions.


It is the most difficult Zen practice to leave people to their destiny, even though it's painful - just loving them, and breathing with them, and distracting them in a sweet way, and laughing with them . . . if something was not my problem, I probably did not have the solution.” (Anne Lamott, Some Assembly Required: A Journal of My Son's First Son)

 
I was witness to several situation where the teacher had supported the child in finding his or her strength, sense of power and possibility after a meltdown only to have the parent swoop in and undo that lesson.  It was a good reminder for me that as hard as it is to watch my girl suffer, fixing things for her is no solution.  She must find and craft her own tools, her own way and the most I can do is to hold the space for her to make her way. As my wise to-go mama friend recently counseled, perhaps we need to let them experience failing. Then she can discover her way back to her center, to her place of balance and strength. My role is not to stop the falling, but to cheer her on from the sidelines, reminding her that I believe in her ability to find her way.  And that I am finding my own way, learning by her side.

"I think the single best line of advice I ever heard on being a parent, a writer, a seeker, an anything, is something the great E. L. Doctorow said years and years ago, that writing is like driving at night with the headlights on: you can only see a little ways in front of you but you can make the whole journey this way. This may not be verbatim, but for me it has rung true in every area of my life." Anne Lamott

Accidents

I know ... there are no such things as accidents ... but perhaps it is more accurate to say accidents happen but the possibility for insight, learning, or growth is never accidental.

My yoga lineage, Kripalu yoga, is a heart and body based approach to accessing transformational wisdom. The starting point is to always come back to the body, which is to come back to the present moment.  From there, the mind and spirit will follow.  Grounded in the experiences of the body, of this moment, I am better able to access the deeper wisdom of heart and soul.

All of which is to say ... the teachings of Life are conveyed to me through barked shins, banged heads, funny bones triggered and a nail in the foot. (Because I am stubborn and require such broad gestures!)

 
That is how my week ended last week.  After the excitement of house guests - and the  exhaustion ... I am by nature a solitary creature and social encounters exact a huge toll upon my emotional and energetic reserves -  I was attempting to shift back into "business as usual."  Cowgirl had swim lessons, then zoo camp to attend; the house needed tidying in preparation for the Husband's return (which is another long story of mishaps, misadventures and travel torture); and the yard cried out for attention.  I actually weeded! 

Puttering about the garden, listening to the birds chatter, enjoying an unusually cool July morning, all the elements of an idyllic moment-of-being you would think, right?  As I sauntered around the side of the house to water my new geraniums (set upon the front porch for a splash of color - how domestic of me!), a searing pain in my foot halted my movement, but not my voice as I screamed out "Son of a ..."  (my go-to phrase it appears for any sudden and painful moments.)

I picked up my foot to discovered a nail embedded in the purple foam of my croc sandal, piercing the joint of my second toe.  Stunned, I pulled the nail out and continued on my way, hobbling to the front porch, watering the plants, then making my way inside the house, hopping through the first floor and up the stairs to my bathroom.  Sticking my aching foot under a stream of cold water, I sat straddling my bathtub and gave myself over to the full extent of the pain.

And then I cried.  Big, hot, sloppy tears that spilled over a very red, blotchy and now snot-streaked face.

At first, I cried because my foot hurt that much.  But then I cried because I was frustrated.  I had been trying to move forward, make progress, tend to my life in an active and energetic way and look where it landed me!  But then I cried because I was all alone and the immensity of my aloneness was overwhelming.

I had to wash out the wound and I realized there was something still embedded in the hole.  So I hopped into Cowgirl's room to retrieve the magnifying glass from her Dumpling Dynasty Explorer Kit ("Explore with JOY") and grabbing my tweezers I sat back down on the edge of the tub to attempt to extract whatever was lodged in my foot.  And I cried again, this time with the awareness that I was having to hurt myself - a lot! -  in order to care for my toe. 

I don't know if I need to say much more.  The wisdom of the moment felt pretty obvious to me: Life delivers a fair share of shock and pain and unexpected blood and those moments can feel like ruptures in the dream or story that we create about ourselves and our lives.  I act as if I can control my life and an accident reminds me that in truth my only choices are to flow with it (or roll with it as it felt that day) or resist which only shifts the suffering from my foot to my Self. 

If my practice has strengthened anything, it is my ability to slip into Witness consciousness.  As I gave myself fully to my tears and sadness, I was also able to witness myself in that moment.  I could see and remember the small child I once was, crying from fear of never fitting in, never finding her place, and the pain of feeling hurt, rejected and isolated.  My tears were a cleansing of those wounds.  Once spent, I recognized that I have continued to carry feelings that no longer describe the deeper truth about myself  that I know from living this life. I may feel alone - certainly I walk my path on my own and the real work of healing is mine alone to tend to  -  but the truth is I am never truly alone.  

That day's accident, the nail in my toe, punctured a hole in the illusions I've held onto so tightly. It is painful work to dismantle and examine delusions, fears, strong memories and emotions.  But it is necessary for true growth and understanding.  Frightened child, lonely woman, wounded toe all describe what I knew about myself in that instant, but those experiences, those labels, do not define me.  As I hobbled through the rest of my day, I understood that what limits me is not what happens to me, but what I choose to believe about myself and life.  A nail in the foot can shut me down but it can also be the opening into a greater freedom.  It is my choice. 

I hope to always choose joy and what better wisdom than Explore with Joy? But I will add: explore with Joy and a fair share of humor and patience for the random appearance of nails on the path, never forgetting to hold much compassion for the vulnerability and tears that will inevitably greet them.  

holding tight (hands=heart)

For Warmth

I hold my face in my two hands.
No, I am not crying.
I hold my face in my two hands
to keep the loneliness warm -
two hands protecting,
two hands nourishing,
two hand preventing
my soul from leaving me
in anger. 
-Thich Nhat Hahn

Right now I feel I am holding tight to my soul lest it slip away from me in sorrow and despair; I believe anger will come later.  Anger for the unwillingness to see how our culture and society have contributed to disconnection.  How the media - movies, television, music, video & computer games -  glorifies violence and de-personalizes human life.  Anger over the dragging of feet when it comes to gun control.  Anger stemming out of frustration and a sense of overwhelm when it comes to righting the course of things. The task it seems to me is how do we instill values of connection, care, respect and true dialogue?

Friday I had to resist the impulse to drive immediately to Cowgirl's school.  To see her and hold her and remind myself of the goodness of this life; her being a tangible expression of love and hope for positive change.  When I did go to pick her up, I had to control myself and not run to her and snatch her up in my arms.  I did give her an extra long hug and then proceeded as if everything was the same as usual.

Because things are the same.  This is the world we inhabit.  Cruelty and senselessness have always been in place.  Children are freed from sweatshop enslavement but more remain. The trafficking of human lives takes place across the globe.  Our planet continues to be raped on a daily basis. When I preach being present for my life, that presence includes these soul-crippling realities.  The impulse is to numb myself to all that is painful to bear, but that tactic enhances a sense of powerlessness and hopeless that I refuse to accept.

Being a parent, I am constantly challenged to clarify my thoughts and beliefs.  I strive to be truthful when talking with my daughter.  Children manage to ask the questions we adults have learned to avoid. So here is my opportunity to seek clarity and determine what it is I truly believe about this painful and beautiful life.

I do believe who we are at the core is goodness and love.  That said, I do believe evil exists.  I believe whenever we forget our essence is love, whenever we believe ourselves to be disconnected, damaged or cut off from the whole, then we align with that mis-perception of ourselves.  Evil is born out of this mis-identification. I tell my girl that people who do bad things do so because they believe themselves to be bad; they have forgotten or lost their sense of innate goodness and wholeness.  At a very basic level, they hold themselves to be unlovable.  

I'm not a position to argue over the source of this disconnect.  What I want more than anything is to stop debating, to stop trying to place blame outside of myself and look towards what is my responsibility.  When I talk about self-care I really mean so much more than good nutrient, rest and physical care.  The heart of what I want to offer is an experience of caring for, loving and honoring the goodness within ourselves.  To remember ourselves as worthy of our own expression of love and cherishment.  To then extend that care to those around us. To be fully present, loving and attentive to the people in our life.  To cultivate true bonds and relationships that are more than just Likes on a Facebook page or hits on a website.  

I want to know the color of your eyes, the shape of your smile, the person behind the avatar.  I understand the razor's edge I walk here: I am a digital entity to most of you, but   the real force for change has always been through words.  This is the gift of online life: sharing words, sharing ideas so that we might each recognize the power of our own words  as a force for positive change. 

Here are my thoughts on this grey December day: I want to remember that what I feed my child is more than just organic, healthful food but ideas and beliefs.  I want to raise her on a diet of loving values; entertainment that aligns with the principles of respect, care, and a valuing of life; kindness and compassion as anchors for living; I want her to know herself as worthy of both loving and being loved. 

I want to nurture and participate in true community.  People bringing their gifts together so that we may all grow stronger, wiser, more loving. Today I may hold my face and my heart in my two hands, but tomorrow I want to use those hands to reach out and bring the wisdom of love into my world.  

If you have suffered, it is only
because you have forgotten
you are a leaf, a flower.

The chrysanthemum is smiling to you.
Don't dip your hands into cement and sand.
The stars never build prisons for themselves.

Let us sing with the flower and the morning birds.
Let us be fully present.
- Thich Nhat Hahn (Butterflies over the Golden Mustard Fields) 

Planting seeds + Wisdom giveaway!

I think the most challenging part of blogging is crafting an accurate title!

I am loving the response to my last post ... it is so gratifying to see others carrying the conversation into other forums and this is why I churn out words and images on a fairly regular basis. For it is by being In dialogue and discussion with others and that compels me to dig deep and uncover the buried messages and yearnings of my heart and soul. From there, we bring together all our voices so that we can mindfully move forward contributing to the world we want to inhabit and pass on to the next generation.

Lately it seems I have been wrestling with questions that have no easy or apparent answers.  I have been conversation with 5 other brave and word-loving souls regarding the topic of Wisdom and how we each define, experience or find it in ourselves and in our lives.  This lively debate has spawned an offering I am proud to be a part of:



Bluestocking Introduction from Jill Clifton on Vimeo.


Let me just say, explaining what I mean by wisdom (never mind figuring out how I know it or tap into it!) is a pretty heady experience.  I suffered only minor breakdowns in attempting to tangle with wisdom.  I am here (in one piece!) to say that I am pretty chuffed (to borrow a favorite term from a favorite thinker/writer) with my offering.  And while I don't want to spoil the mystery, I will say that in the end I go beyond the wisdom of the body and the breath (and if you know me - and I think you all do - you probably can figure out where I finally discover my own wisdom resides, patiently and lovingly, awaiting my attention.)

I've had a sneak peek at some of the offerings in this 8 week course (6 presenters) and I can honestly say, it is full of juicy and artful morsels along with the protein component of wisdom.  What I love about this project is each of us grants authority to her own process and experience.  Each of us uncovers and shares the wisdom gleaned from women's experiences - creativity, connection and conflict of family life, the body, cycles and nature.  By recognizing we each can create and claim wisdom within our own lives, we empower others to look within themselves to determine and then align with their wisdom.  As a mother, I see the urgency of this message for my young daughter: believe in, and trust yourself.  

In celebration of wisdom, I am offering a spot in the Bluestocking Salon's first e-course: The Bones of Wisdom. The course run January 7 - February 25, 2013.  For a full description of the course and contents go here.  To enter your name for a chance to win, either leave a comment here (one comment per person) or email me to add your name into the hat: Lishofmann(at)novia(dot).   If you are a facebook person, then "like" our page and share with your readers (facebook or blog) to receive additional entries.  (Let me know how you helped spread the word by either a comment here or email.) 

I will draw a name at random next Thursday, December 13 and announce the winner on Friday.  Please be sure I have a way of contacting you (or be sure to check in and see if you are the lucky winner!)  

I mention planting seeds and I as I move through these thoughts on wisdom, which seems to involve self trust and deep listening, I am continually pulled to create or contribute to some kind of project or program involving girls in that wonderfully formative age range of 8 to preteen (of course, Cowgirl is 8!)  Just the other day Cowgirl agreed to an after-school play session with a friend, only to tell me in the car "I really want to be home with you, but I guess I have to make my friend happy and do what she wants."  She feared being honest with her friend, saying "She will be angry with me and tell me she doesn't want to be friends anymore."   Already she is picking up on the negative message to dismiss her feelings and needs in order to fit in or be accepted. 

I can address these issues, but I know deeper and more insidious ones lie far below every day conversations. Somehow, some way I want to chip away at inherited biases and beliefs that bolster gender inequalities.  No small task, but listening to this young woman speak, I am compelled to try to make a difference in whatever way I possibly can:







direct link to video here

(This amazing young woman is part of a documentary Somewhere Between which explores the experiences of four teenaged women adopted from China and living in the U.S.)

So tell me, how do we as women claim wisdom for our lives, our stories?  How can we empower younger women and girls not only trust in themselves, but stand up and fight for their place as makers and markers of wisdom?  Who are the wise ones, the mentors and heroines in our lives? How can we recognize and teach our girls (and ourselves) that, as Fang so clearly expresses it, "We don't have to wait around, we can be our own heroines, our own saviors. But we need mentors."  

This is the soil I am turning.  The seeds I am tending.  I can't help myself.  I love that little face with my entire being. I would love your thoughts. I would love the support.  I am open, ready, and apparently qualified in wisdom (as are you) so let's get started.