Tag: women supporting women

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Where comparison has a place

Wholehearted living has been my focus for living in 2020. And I’ve noticed it’s one of those attributes you don’t necessarily notice, until you do. And over the past few weeks, I have to say that I’ve noticed. Primarily with respect to a desire to show up authentically in each and every situation. Lest you believe I was faking it before this year, let me explain. The daily situations in which we find ourselves require a certain…evaluation. For example, you don’t show up to the office as your Saturday night self. You compare the two and determine exactly what impression Saturday self will leave in the strategic planning meeting you have at 9 a.m. Saturday self stays in bed and Monday morning self heads to work.

June has been focused on choosing creativity over comparison. I’m 1000% on board from the perspective on my creative life. And comparing any success I have to someone else’s? Fool’s errand.. don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. They will be lying, straight up lying. Our lives our uniquely ours and lived out best when we don’t compare to others.

A different way to look at comparison

But…the last few days I’ve been pondering that. Because I’ve noticed that when I am in situations where my perception – whether it’s stated or not – is that to fit in, to belong certain behavior is expected, I have a lower and lower tolerance. The tendency is to blame that on the other people. “They” – the infamous they – shouldn’t expect that you will conform. You should be accepted as you are. Ok, well, maybe.

At the same time, groups of people form their normative behaviors that essentially govern the group. When an individual in the group changes, the group tries to ‘bring the back.’ Attempts to cajole their behavior back to what had been ‘acceptable,’ and garnered belonging. If that doesn’t work, they’ll resort to shame, or ridicule and may even expel the person if the behavioral change is dramatic. It’s a process known as tribal shaming. And if you find yourself in that experience, run, don’t walk.

When comparison leads to change

As I’ve pondered, compared my evolving confidence in my wholehearted authentic self, I find myself feeling like a fish out of water in certain situations where the behavioral norm is strong. And I’ve ‘compared,’ that norm, it’s the one example which I believe is not off limits. Because as your authentic self comes through – and it’s always there, it may simply take a while to feel comfortable emerging – to engage in any other way pushes you outside your values.

The comparison led to a realization that I’m engaged in a few situations where the norm is inconsistent with my authentic self. And I am of the belief that the decisions we make in our lives should be weighed against our true self, considered in terms of will it keep us within our values or push us outside of our values. Authenticity is one of my values, along with integrity, equality, inclusion, family, love.

Creativity and living your wholehearted life

Enter creativity. You can’t always walk away from every situation where you realize your wholehearted self has changed as you’ve shown up for yourself. That’s simply a fact. But you can influence, you can use your voice, impact your sphere with your authentic self. Your creative, unique, individual self.

Wholehearted living is not for wimps, and it’s not a cat poster. It’s not as simple as “Hang in there.” It’s digging in and doing the work. It’s hard and it hurts. But…it is worth it. This is your one and precious, beautiful life. I’m on the journey with you, lovlies. Be brave. Lisa

 

 

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Why choose creativity over comparison?

My children’s grandmother is an artist. I mean, an actual artist, as in, makes a living selling her paintings. Naturally when my children were young, I imagined they would be protégés or born with her innate talent to create. As early as it seemed appropriate, we had crayons and colored, I engineered art projects for nearly every birthday party, I wanted to spark the bug within them to create.

Hanging in my guest bathroom for many years was a painting by my older son, Carson. It was precious and, although it no longer graces my walls, I have it, as I always will, because I am a mother. He recently painted an “installation” for his apartment that I love, and it delights me that the creative bug lives on. Is my younger son creative? Yes? It’s demonstrated through his passion for plants, their growth, structure and patterns. I will go with that as his creative streak.

But if I compared them to their grandmother…are they artists?

What is creative?

One of the challenges internally with creativity is its subjective nature. Not black and white, subject to the eye of the beholder. What makes it ‘good’ or ‘bad’ is up for debate. While the kids’ grandmother is an artist, is it possible that’s a construct? She paints (beautifully), it appeals to an audience, it’s recognizable, and people want to pay money for it, therefore, we call her an artist.

But what about me? Earlier today, I decided to create a picture for a blank wall in my powder bath and with inspiration from Henri Matisse, a flower-esque canvas was born. Does that make me an artist? I write this blog every week in addition to innumerable other posts and documents, does that make me a writer?

Why comparison enters the picture

Because we desire to add definition to our activities, we compare to others. I may look at artists and evaluate my creation compared to theirs. Is it as good? Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Am I an artist? The same comparison exists for writing, or any other creative endeavor.

And the unfortunate result is that we subconsciously stifle ourselves. Because we determine that whatever it is that we’re doing is ‘less than’ what someone else has created. Why do we have this insatiable desire to put a label on it at all? When we do, we’re missing the point. Creativity is subjective. It’s not up to you to determine if I am an artist, or a writer, that’s up to me. Determining if you’re an artist is up to you and you alone.

Which is easier said than done.

Wholehearted living lets go of comparison

Truthfully, I’d like to say I don’t compare myself to anyone. That I believe I’m an artist and a writer. That would be a lie. In real life, I hesitate to use those labels. I compare my ‘art,’ my ideas, my vision (because creativity is far more than visual arts) to others to determine the good/bad factor. The Wholehearted Living Guidepost capturing my attention this month is choosing creativity over comparison.

Comparison needs to stop. Do you know one of the reasons I’ve continued to exercise my creativity? Because it brings me joy. I love writing. I love painting, or creating, or dreaming up creative solutions, or schemes or ideas. When we compare, we look at another person’s exterior, at their finished product, and think we’re seeing the entire picture.

We only have the full picture of ourselves

We’re not seeing the whole picture. Each person projects the part of themselves they want others to see. Including us. We show the world around us what we want them to see. Maybe it’s only the best pieces of art, or pictures, or selfies, or writing, or we filter our ideas, our suggestions, our creativity. We run it through our internal comparison meter first to determine if it’s good enough for others to see.

That’s what they’re doing to. Wholehearted living requires us to stop comparison. Let the creativity flow. Encourage it in yourself and others. Know that we may be on this journey together, and our paths may be crossing, but our footsteps are not the same. We need every single one. Together, we complete the picture. You’re creative, you’re an artist, you’re brave, my friend. Sending you love. Lisa

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Why it may be time change your mind

Or more appropriately, the time has come to change your mind.

While not a fan of the word “should,” I’m putting it out there, because within the United States there is no other option for many of us but to change our minds. I posted last week about being raised in an environment which, from my perspective, appeared to be absent of discrimination. And by and large, I stand by that. But I’m wondering if maybe that wasn’t enough.

Because not talking about it, while ok, doesn’t equip you to stand for anything. We should change that. We MUST change that. I don’t say that disparagingly about where I grew up and the environment there, or in my home. But beyond the events of the last week, the last few years have opened my eyes to a broader scope of reality. Which is this: the number of people who are marginalized and fighting for recognition and respect should make you weep. Until you see those realities up close, you may not even realize they exist.

I am up close.

Within my family are two of the most beautiful boys who are gay. Do I worry about them? Yes. Because I’m a mother. But also because there are people within this country continuing to believe that being created perfectly as a child of God exactly as you, anywhere on the LGBTQIA spectrum, is somehow wrong. As if you can change it. You can’t. God loves them, I love them, they are perfectly made. Period.

And once this mother wrapped her heart and mind around that fact, my heart was cracked open. Not only for the LGBTQIA community but for all marginalized people.

That’s how it works.

You begin to see the fractures within the social justice system once you’re up close. The events of the past week in the U.S. highlighted racism that continues to marginalize significant groups of people. And as I’ve felt drawn to reach out to my black and brown brothers and sisters, I realize that I have lived with the benefit of unearned privilege that wasn’t even on my radar. Not seeing the disparity between what I think is ‘normal’ and the experience among BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color).

My mind has changed.

Each one of us should be examining our hearts and mind and asking questions. Which means talking about it. We need to be learning about the experience of other people whose childhoods were not like our own. Who are not living today with the same liberties we may take for granted.  That person might be our neighbor. There was a time when a Hispanic friend and I spent a great many hours together -living life. Not once during those months did I learn (or ask) of the racist comments made to him during his childhood, in the same neighborhoods where we lived that day. The names he was called. I learned those facts last week, because I shared a desire to learned from my BIPOC friends and he reached out. I am grateful for friends who are willing to engage in necessary conversations.

Do the best you can until you know better.

Then when you know better, do better.

Maya Angelou

Once I was told “You’ve changed,” as an accusation. As though it was a betrayal. It was not. What is a betrayal is to see the truth, what’s true for you, and continue to live outside your integrity. Brené Brown defines integrity as “Choosing courage over comfort; choosing what’s right over what’s fun, fast and easy; and choosing to practice our values over simply professing them.” Integrity is one of my core values, and I choose courage.

Do I have all of this figured out? Not even a little bit. But what I do know is I have a lot to learn. I suspect many of us do. Learn about the experience that is different than our own, by listening, by asking questions. Have brave conversations. Lift up the voices of those who are different providing a platform to speak their truth.

And those words, I hope they change your heart. They’re changing mine.

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What’s the worst that could happen?

Try it, you’ll like it.  The well-known catch phrase from the 70’s, not, as I learned while researching, from a Life Cereal ad, but instead, Alka Seltzer. Which makes it more apropos, because I’ve been pondering venturing into unknown territory. Leaving certainty. In the ad, the encouragement to try it is made with assurance because if heartburn arose, Alka Seltzer would surely resolve it.

What’s the worst that could happen?

I work with a coach of my own who frequently asks me, “what if you did it anyways?” I assure you this is one of dozens of ways she’s figured out work to challenge me to think counter to my certainty-based thinking pattern when it comes to branching out. As we labored through my resistance, she flipped a switch for me. Beginner’s fear, she called it, which is another form of Imposter Syndrome. Defined as,

 “The persistent inability to believe that one’s success is deserved or has been legitimately achieved as a result of one’s own efforts or skills”

According to Buck Stewart on Medium, we may experience it when starting something new, a job, a skill, putting our gifts into the world for the first time.

In 2018 I attended Brave Magic with Elizabeth Gilbert and Cheryl Strayed at the 1440 Multiversity. Nestled in the Santa Cruz Mountains, the picturesque grounds and chill vibe give the illusion you’ll float through your experience. I did not. I believed it was a writing workshop, and it was. All about my inner shadows. Surrounded by 600 others, many published authors, I had the joy of sharing my writing with a perfect stranger, but only after digging deep into my soul. I felt over my head and intimidated the entire time. It was not chill. It was therapy. I downloaded the experience in this blog sharing the imposter’s syndrome that stayed with me through much of the weekend.

Several days have passed since idea of beginner’s fear was again posed to me, leaving time for multiple dots to connect. Namely that with anything new, including activities that tap into areas of strength, trepidation is not uncommon. You’re moving from certainty to relying on your experience and intuition. And the stakes are increased if the new thing includes uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure, aka, vulnerability.

Rewiring our minds for uncertainty

The path to wholehearted living requires we move from certainty into trusting intuition and faith. Predictability replaced with trust in yourself, having faith. But it’s not a matter of flipping a switch. Certainty is safe and unknown. Neurologically, our brains will search for what is familiar. We see different as a threat. Dr. Kristin Beasley, PhD, a trusted friend of mine, shared a compelling talk on just this topic, diving into the neuroscience behind how our brains see difference, particularly in regard to diversity, in her Quarantine with Dr. B series on Facebook. You can watch the episode on YouTube.

Our brains have the powerful ability to keep us safe, but we’re not being chased by a T-Rex on our way home from the grocery store. The more we expose ourselves to new experiences, challenges, people, the stronger the neurological pathways connecting different to safe instead of danger.

Embrace your intuition

Growth lies on the other side of certainty. And if we’re not growing, then what? For me, particularly now that I’ve hit the “middle of life,” becoming stale is not an option. Consciously aware that I’m walking out the second half of my life, the importance of growth and trusting my intuition is increasingly important. Midlife isn’t a dead end, it’s a spotlight. Showing us the areas in our life where we’ve been ‘phoning it in.’ It’s time to follow our inner calling and continue in spite of beginner’s fear because…

What’s the worst that could happen?

I, for one, am willing to walk it out. Are you with me? What’s the still, small voice within you saying? Perhaps it’s no longer quiet, but instead a loud roar. Friends, you are not alone. And I assure you, we are not imposters in our own lives. We are walking out our inner calling together. Trusting our intuition and rewiring our brains to embrace different. No one else will live it out for us. It’s our journey, let’s Be Brave.

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Beginning to unravel certainty

Within our lives exist deeply personal journeys that can only be taken one step at a time. There are no shortcuts, no ‘Collect $200 and advance to GO.’ Slowly, painfully at times, I’ve worn holes in my shoes pacing and scuffing the floor as a distraction, a hesitation. At the same time, this particular one has brought me to a place of peace within myself. Wrestling with how I walk out my faith.

And while I’m not entirely ‘there’ yet, considerable ground has been traversed. And the not knowing yet is a component of the peace. Focusing each month on one of Brené Brown’s Guideposts for Wholehearted Living has resulted in a journey of its own thus far. But this month’s is timely, “Letting go of the need for certainty and Embracing intuition and trusting faith.” Buckle up.

Raise your hand if you were raised “in church.” Me too. Each Sunday we’d make our way to the little chapel in Yosemite Valley – picturesque really – to sit for an hour on hard, wooden benches and listen to our conservative pastor share the Word. I was even baptized in the Merced River that meandered through the meadow across the street.

Looking back, church was the event. Being a Christian was simply who we were in my family. Like many, once I was out of the house, regular church attendance became a sporadic event. That was, until my kids were on the scene and a nagging moral obligation to return to the chapel poked at me long enough that I listened.

Certainty enters the picture

Fast forward to early midlife when I was ‘all in’ at church again. Attending a hip, cool one that met in a movie theater, I drank it in, meeting supportive, loving people. Over the years, I recall hearing about something called Apologetics, which sounded boring to my non-analytical brain. Here’s how the internet defines it: reasoned arguments or writings in justification of something, typically a theory or religious doctrine. In my words, it’s a way to ‘prove’ your beliefs about God, Jesus and the Bible. Apologetics is rooted in certainty.

Which is why I never grabbed on to it. My faith was never about certainty. It was about trusting the knowing in my heart, still is. Never did I feel compelled to argue for it. Some would say that’s part of my Christian “job.” Ok. That doesn’t change anything for me. Still not going for it. When you let go of certainty, you open space to wonder. A space to ask questions, to listen to what the whisper of your heart is telling you.

Letting go of certainty

And I have a LOT of questions and wonder. Maybe you do to. Or not…and if that’s the case…cool for you. Throughout the month, thoughts which brew in my mind I’ll be throwing out for consideration, but not all at once. Letting go of certainty may be a journey you’re also on. Perhaps it’s about your faith, or maybe about an aspect of your life you held as true but now you wrestle with it. In case no one else has told you, you’re allowed. You can have questions, you can challenge popularly held beliefs, you can wonder. The world will not end.

Trusting your intuition

Because whatever you believe, about faith or something else, it’s honestly no one else’s business. What is your intuition telling you? The rumblings of your heart? Those nudges that push you towards asking questions, that’s your intuition, it’s the still small voice. And if you’re scared? It could be a sign that you’re on to something big. Something within you than needs to be explored. Go there. Know though that your exploration may not be popular. And still, it’s ok. As we explore this subject and we’ll also talk about the cost. But not today. Today, simply wonder and trust your intuition. I’m on the journey with you. Be Brave.

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How to take off your masks

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a doctor. Specifically, a baby doctor. Babysitter extraordinaire for my neighborhood, I could not get enough of the babies. At 14, the nuance that obstetrician also meant gynecologist, and that the only involvement with babies this girl would have was coming out, was lost on me. If my poor results in science classes hadn’t have dissuaded me from pursuing that passion, our current requirement to wear masks would have.

How doctors and nurses are wearing them all day long escapes me. I wear mine to the store and am half convinced I’m going to hyperventilate before I exit the produce aisle. If told I had to wear it continuously, I’d have to find a new profession. Which is why I will remain working at home as long as necessary to avoid donning my mask on a consistent basis.

You might be nodding along with me, high fiving me, yeah! Wearing a mask, while currently necessary in public, is not my dream come true.

So, why do we do it?

Why do we put forward a version of ourselves that guarantees belonging but is less than our true and authentic self? That is a mask. It’s not an act of deception, it’s an act of desperation. One we believe necessary. Because deep in our hearts, we’re afraid that if people saw who we really were, at our core, the messy, confused, questioning, silly, goofy self we are, they wouldn’t like us. If they saw that we aren’t convinced that what we’ve been told to believe our entire lives made sense, at least not 100% of it, we’d be out of the club.

And we desperately want to be part of the club.

We want to belong

As women, many of us are “faking it to protect our belonging,” according to Jen Hatmaker, and I agree. We don’t set out of wear a mask. It’s not one of the lessons we learn as a child. It’s not our heart to deceive anyone. But as we mature, we notice how people respond to us. We see what gains positive attention and what gains negative attention. We learn to fit in…to go along…to not make waves. And as we do, we’re slowly giving away parts of ourselves. Because the club…we think it’s everything.

The club wants to keep us as a member. They’ll double down if they see us start to ask questions. Or if we start to behave in a manner that isn’t ‘acceptable.’ “You’ve changed!” they cry, shaming us into circling back to our thoughts, our beliefs, our behaviors that fit in. And we do it. For a while. We continue wearing our mask, conforming, fitting in. Not voicing what the still small voice is telling us.

Healthcare workers on the front line have taken pictures showing the result of wearing their masks constantly. Marks, rashes, evidence of covering their face. Not dissimilar to what happens to our hearts, our inner self, our own souls, when we keep the mask on, covering who we are, it leaves a mark. Unlike healthcare workers, we have a choice, we can take off our mask.

What happens when the mask comes off

And it may very well have consequences. We need to re-navigate our relationships, some of which may not survive. When we step into our true selves, depending on the size of the step, we may lose relationships. Lose our club membership. But we maintain our integrity. If we continue to fake it, we will slowly be eaten up inside. I know, I’ve been there. I had simmering anger inside me that I couldn’t even name. Until I did. I had no other choice but to take off the mask. And it came with a high cost.

So, for you, what is the mask you’re wearing? Or better yet, what is your still small voice telling you? Has the time come that you listen? If it has, know that it is worth it. More than anything, it is worth it. To be at peace with yourself, with your integrity, it’s worth it. Know that you’re not alone on the journey, I’m right there with you. Be Brave.

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What do you need to discover within silence?

Unexpected circumstances led to my son returning to live with me two weeks ago, accompanied by his puppy. Koa is a year and a half, we believe a full blood Australian Shepherd, and attached to Bodie’s hip. Seriously. She follows him everywhere and only now, two weeks in, do I see her entertaining the idea that I may not be a threat. Yesterday, she remained on the ottoman with my feet long after Bodie made his way upstairs. Win.

What lies in the silence?

I’m no canine expert, in fact only within the past few years have I completely overcome my intense fear of dogs. The multiple dog bites of my youth cemented that. But what strikes me about Koa is her silence. Rarely does she bark, I can’t recall hearing her whine – even when patiently sitting next to me while I prepare dinner using her mind melting skills…drop.the.carrot. She’s sweet as can be, but she’s also timid and shy. Less so as she warms up to me, but she hasn’t let down her guard yet.

As I’ve been observing her, coupled with Bodie’s belief that she was abused based on her behavior (he’s had her 2 months), I wonder about the life she lived with her prior owner. A life which resulted in her shying away, approaching you with her head down, responding in a non-correlative way to correction…far more reactive than the rebuke she’s given.

Unlocking your inner-self

My heart wishes that she could tell me what her soul feels. What is locked inside from her life experiences so that we could help heal her with our love.

It’s the same thing I want for myself. The same thing I want for you.

Literally zero people escaped their childhood without scars which impact how we interact with our selves, other people and the world around us. Zero. Do not try to tell me you’re the one because I’d be happy to dig into it with you. It doesn’t have to be catastrophic to be impactful. In fact, most of the time, it’s the day to day way you adapted to your circumstances that leave lasting imprints.

Armed with our unique lens, we land in the middle of life. Often ill equipped to maneuver our way through relationships with ourselves or others, we may remain silent. We may not have been taught the tools to talk about how we feel, what we’re experiencing, what we desire. Those were certainly not part of the parent manual I received. What to Expect when you’re Expecting told me what would happen to my body, how large the baby was, basically how to keep them alive once they were born. I do not remember one word about developing emotional literacy or talking about hard things.

We all need practice

Lacking the tools, we don’t express our hearts, what we’re feeling, what is happening within us. And within our inner silence, we know there’s more. We can sense it, feel it, taste it. But it’s just outside our grasp. We may be afraid of what’s happening in that inner space and falsely believe no one would love us if they really knew. Knew the thoughts we had, or our true desires. We’d be too much, we wouldn’t be meeting their expectations, we’d disappoint them.

Maybe.

Step into your full self

But at the end of the day, I’m starting to believe it doesn’t matter. We must cultivate our own story, put words to our experiences, discover what lies within our silence and allow ourselves to be seen and heard. Without our cover story. Simply as we are. Because we’re allowed to act differently, think differently, express ourselves differently. And when we don’t? We may as well be Koa, trapped within herself, silent…not able to express that she’s afraid, scared, nervous, or whatever it is she might be feeling based on her life thus far.

We have a choice. To step out of our own silence and into the light where we let people see who we are. Unafraid. Heads held high. I see you and am with you my friend. Be brave.

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How are you getting what you need?

Quick. On one hand count how often you got together in April 2019 with 15 of your girlfriends at 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning to practice meditation and Koia? The answer? Zero. Perhaps even less than zero because you may very well have been asleep. In the era of shelter in place, my answer for April 2020 is 3 out of 3 thanks to my social and mileage-wise distanced friend Michelle. In what I’d describe divinely inspired, she created the Self-Love Project through her coaching company, My Village Well. Bringing together her village of women, which I’ve stumbled into, she hosts workshops throughout the year.

Creating Connection

Addressing our shelter in place requirement thanks to COVID, she created the project to provide space for women to feel and simply be for an hour. In the midst of all the noise which we’re faced with surrounding the pandemic, taking time to breathe feels precious and soul nurturing. Today, her guest speaker Nicole led the group through a short, mindful, Koia practice, which basically involves movement, dance and connection to your body. We danced to the Rolling Stones singing You Can’t Always Get What You Want, after which she encouraged us to journal following the prompt…I might not be getting what I want, but where am I getting what I need? As she spoke the words, I had an aha moment.

Letting go of scarcity

Throughout April, I’ve been focusing on the Wholehearted Living Guidepost of ‘letting go of scarcity and fear of the dark’. If you think God doesn’t have a sense of humor, think again, because having pre-chosen that, not knowing we’d be sheltering in place seems serendipitous. Focus on letting go when it feels as though we’re gazing into the eye of scarcity every single moment.

So, I pondered where the aha was taking me, and thought about the abundance rising out of COVID. I rarely know what I want, it’s my internal struggle. An Enneagram 9, I avoid disrupting the peace and as a result have been known to go along to get along. And I’ve made it my mission to push myself into defining what I want, what I need. It’s not easy. Although I’m working at home through shelter in place, I also have an abundance of time to breathe and ponder what I want and need. I have plenty, not lack.

It appears that what I need is time. Space. A slower pace. I’ve found myself releasing the internal drive (I may be an Enneagram 9, but my 1 wing is strong) to be in motion. The 1 that often overshadows my easygoing 9 self and tells her to get out of the chair and DO. What I need is connection at a heart level, which Michelle’s Self Love Project Saturdays provide.

What do you need?

My question for you is the same, if you aren’t getting what you want, where are you getting what you need? Take 15 minutes out of your day and spend 5 dancing to the song that allows you to shake it out and then another 10 minutes journalling your thoughts about the question. What you find may surprise you. Because when we’re paying attention, we can see abundance and there is joy in the midst of whatever this is we’ve experiencing. We simply need to slow down and see it. Be brave my friends, I’m on the journey with you.

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Looking for stillness within scarcity

Rarely do we see scarcity on the wide scale basis we are today. Beyond day to day niceties, eating out, shopping in a physical store, getting my nails done (that struggle is real), the sense of ‘lack’ is a shared reality.

We lack human interaction, spending time with friends or family, we lack connection…shared experiences. We lack physical touch from another human person. Social distancing put an end, at least for the moment, to human to human life. For our own, and others, safety, we stay at home. I live alone at the moment and other than talking to people at the grocery store or drive through at Starbucks from six feet away, I have no in person connection. But lack is not limited to me because I’m single. It’s pervasive. Across socio-economic boundaries, regions, personal circumstances. We’re spending abundant amounts of time alone, or with one or two other people.

Scarcity becoming stillness

When I was 35, I was newly divorced and living in a new city – alone. My children were with their father and I unexpectedly found myself grappling with an empty house. I can recall being profoundly miserable. Lonely. Sad. Unable to sit in that house alone and simply be. I created background noise 100% of the time. The television became my roommate. I didn’t know what to do with myself, how to be with myself. The lack I felt was guttural. Deep waves of melancholy would wash over me on any given day. Scarcity in terms of connection was palpable.

35 was a long time ago. I’ve lived half that much life since then and look back on the time as transformative. Because within the lack, within that space of darkness, I instead found stillness. I was forced to get to know myself. To become comfortable with me and learn more about my own thoughts and desires. It wasn’t the path I dreamed of as a little girl, but it was the path I was on. And I survived. I found different ways to have connection, mainly within the stillness of my mind. It was a time of discovery. Of letting go of what was and deciding who I wanted to be. Somewhere in the middle of the alone time, I got comfortable with me. With being alone and making friends with myself.

It’s something I’ve done cyclically since that time. Peeling off outer layers to see what’s underneath. What I wanted to shed, and what I wanted to explore.

Stillness leads to transformation

Periods of stillness provide space for transformation. I’m writing this on Easter and my mind goes to Jesus, in the tomb, and His transformation. The love and hope He promised to the world.  Our stillness can be our time of transformation. It’s our choice. Isolation doesn’t have to be lonely. While we lack connection with others, we can find inner clarity and connection. Use this time to examine our hearts and explore what brings us joy, what we’re grateful for, where we have love and hope. Those elements that cannot be taken from us. We can look within ourselves and ask if there’s an area that feels like a splinter. Festering, needing to be removed, leaving us relieved that it’s gone. Maybe you need to consider what you thought was essential but that you are finding stillness without and see the joy in that new space opened inside you.

Yes, we’re experiencing scarcity, but that mere fact can bring us joy and gratitude because we have room to breathe. Slowly, intentionally. Time to ponder, to consider, to dream. We’ve slowed down, not by choice, but here we are. What we choose to do with the abundance of time, yes, abundance, not lack, is personal. But it’s a choice we’re all making. Make a brave one. I’m on the journey with you.

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Wholehearted living requires letting go of scarcity

It may go down in history as the great toilet paper shortage of 2020. People unexplainably acquiring massive amounts, envision entire shopping carts full, of toilet paper, as we prepared for the unknown virus facing our country. While buying toilet paper is seemingly benign, it’s indicative of the underlying message many believe, which is that there is not enough, a symptom of a culture of scarcity.

In an interview with Gwyneth Paltrow, Brené Brown shared, “Scarcity thrives in a culture where everyone is hyper-aware of lack. Everything from safety and love to money and resources feels restricted or lacking.”  Our fear of scarcity thrives in the dark. It thrives on blame, shame, pointing outward instead of getting curious about what’s happening within our hearts and minds. Instead of sitting with the knowing that there is enough.

Letting go of scarcity – the fourth guidepost

My year of wholeheartedly living has brought me to the fourth guidepost which is letting go of scarcity. The timing is nothing if not serendipitous as the world around us has come to a hard stop and collective fear is the name of the game. Beyond the lack in material supply, we’re seeing a lack of employment, of face to face interaction, of connection. And while you can find news outlets talking about the human connection element of this crisis, it’s generally not the leading story on the nightly news.

And we remain in darkness, the breeding ground for the elements Brené defines as scarcity: shame, comparison and disengagement. Our roles at home have quadrupled. As women, if we’re working from home, we may also be homeschooling children, keeping the house clean, preparing not one but now three meals a day, and holding space for all the emotions swirling around our homes.

Never ____________ enough

The competing demands within our homes may lead us to feel depleted. With nothing left to give. The competing demands lead us to fill in our own blank;

Never good enough

Never perfect enough

Never confident enough

Never feminine enough

Never active enough

Never organized enough

Never…enough

The feelings multiply in the darkness. We may feel a chasm of darkness within us because the one who is keeping ‘all the things’ moving within our home has no space for her own feelings. She pushes them down and they swirl as a drop of color into otherwise clear water…soon losing their clarity.

The antidote – Cultivate Gratitude and Joy

Combating scarcity requires curiosity…questioning our experience, what we’re feeling. It requires we step into that uncomfortable space of vulnerability. Honestly, living with vulnerability is a day by day journey. But when we choose to talk about what’s happening within us, we can view our feelings as data. Providing us with information about what we need, desire…our hopes, our strengths. We can shift from scarcity, and instead, remember that, even in our current circumstance, we can cultivate gratitude and joy.

Joy that we’re spending more time with our families. Grateful to have the space to take a breath. We have time, what normally may feel like the scarcest of all resources. To believe we must do it all leaves us depleted. We may not have toilet paper, but we have time. Time to get curious about our feelings. Time to see joy in the moments spent with family. Gratitude for our own health.

We have enough. And for that, I am grateful.