Full Bloom

There is something extraordinarily beautiful about a woman in full bloom. My sister is this woman. Last night I went to a little tea shop in Chamblee to see my big sister sing. I've known her all my life; 54 years. We humans are creatures of perception, and I have always experienced her as a tightly wound individual, rigid in many ways. And I am compassionately grateful for this, because I know she developed this particular self for survival. Being born into the role of Hero, she was 'Good Girl', got high grades in school, parent to her four younger sisters, and thereby robbed of her childhood. I watched during those years in the late 60's and 70's, her "friends" were cruel and two-faced. High school was a time of trying to fit in, hoping desperately to be accepted into one of the popular groups. One of my memories from that time is how important it was to have a particular designer clothing. A Villager or Lady Bug tag in your clothing or on your accessories was a ticket "in". Rumor was in high school they checked, actually pulled back the collar of your clothing to see, and then followed with ridicule if you did not measure up. I remember my sister's high school experience as cruel, and wounding. Unfortunately, this is true for many of us.              
She went away to college and wanted to become a doctor for our father, an absent father who travelled a lot and never gave her the approval and acceptance she so longed for and needed. Like most women I know, when we are girls, there is nothing we want more than our father's approval and acceptance. She ended up in Pharmacy school. I lived with her my final year of college. I don't remember her then, nor any time really, as a joyful person.

Today, her life is quite new, quite different. Recently divorced, or in the process of it, she has found a little apartment off the square in Marietta. It's in a old building, with lots of history. Just the kind of thing I remember her loving. She may use her skill and knowledge from Pharmacy school to pay the bills, but she is fearlessly and unabashedly exploring her creative side. In this transition, she is dancing, singing, developing stage characters, and even bought a new guitar she delightedly refers to as her "boyfriend".

So, I went to see her sing and play guitar at Zen Tea last night. She was radiant, spilling over with joy, a woman comfortable in her own skin. And not just comfortable, she was at home in her own skin. I don't think I've ever seen her that way. She was, and is, a woman in full bloom. It is beautiful to behold. In fact, it brought tears to my eyes. There are no words adequate to describe how happy I am for her. She deserves to be this alive and loving it. All of us do. Thank you, Dona, for your engaging radiance. You are truly beautiful.

Becoming

I was clearing books from one shelf to another. I found an old journal with pages falling out. I sat on the floor and read where it was open. It was 1998. Wow. 14 years ago. It was also, I discovered as I read, another life-time ago. My daughter (age 16 at the time) and I were watching t.v. together. I remember how good it felt to sit on that couch in that room with her curled up close beside me ...our time. We were talking. My marriage with her father was close to an end. He and I were divorced in December of '99. So our talk, my daughter and I, that day on the couch in 1998 was about serious things ...how she felt I was never there and her feelings about that. We talked of being present emotionally and being present physically. I shared with her how my own mother was present physically, but not emotionally, and the consequences of that in my life. I validated her experience and told her she was right that I had not been there in many ways. I grieved the truth of how I was repeating what I learned from my own mother. I talked about children having unmet needs with parents and how at the age of 30, after I got out of treatment, I went to my parents and confronted them about it. I told her that some day I was sure she would need to do the same with me, and we would deal with it the best we could.
We talked about ways in which I could be more "there" for her. Then we watched t.v. together. I scratched her back as we sat there watching a movie. She shared fears and beliefs she had about my life and the way I was living it. Many were statements with large questions behind them. I didn't get defensive. I remained calm. I mirrored back what she said. I affirmed her experience as separate from mine. I answered the questions she asked. I remember feeling calm and loving ...and sad as well. I summed up all she said about me "not being there" and "always being gone", all her questions and her assumptions, all her "story" about my actions. Then I held her and told her what was true for me. I answered her questions in an honest, adult, loving parent way.
As I re-read my journal writings this morning, I saw a mother who did some things right ...who did some things beautifully, in fact. I know as a mother, there were some things I did awfully, badly, poorly.
And, there are some things I did magnificently.
This was one of the latter, and I am proud of me. I honor the truth that there are those times I did really well at mothering. I will admit that it is a struggle to let these words remain on this page and publish it. There is a part of me that feels compelled to go on and on about what I did poorly. Not today. Today, I celebrate the things I feel proud of. That day on the couch with my daughter in the year 1998, I listened ...truly listened. No defensiveness, no lengthy explanations. I validated her experiences as hers and rightfully so. I owned what I was responsible for. I worked with her to find healing solutions to what she needed from me. And I was truthful with her while maintaining a healthy parental boundary. My own mother had invited me to be her confidant, her girlfriend. It was not appropriate. It was out of balance and co-dependent. This time for me and my daughter, I chose differently. It felt good, and I am proud of how I stood in that Mother role.

The Medicinal Properties of Soup

I'm a teacher. Teachers love Pinterest. I mean love it. It's teacher crack. Really. Those of you who don't know what Pinterest is, Google it. Or Bing it. Whatever your preference.

So here I sit an a cold afternoon on what's left of my winter break, slurping soup and finger-pecking my blog post. I mention Pinterest because this soup would be a great "pin". Wish I had a pic, I would post it... Not really. I ate it so fast there was no photo op time. But the amazing properties of soup got me to thinking about you guys out there, and I wanted to share this experience with you.

I recently returned from a luxurious stay at The Franklin Arms in Hayesville, N.C. (aka Patti and Rich's house). Patti eats a macrobiotic diet, so she always has tons of vegetable stuff on hand. She had made a soup she calls "Every Vegetable in the House" soup. Deeeelicious! That's her recipe; every vegetable in the house.

Well, in our house we don't have a lot of vegetables. So I stopped by the grocery store and stocked up. See if this doesn't get your mouth watering: I started with 3 strips of lean, center cut bacon sautéed in a big pot. Then I threw in about 1/2 lb. of fresh, lean ground beef (I don't eat a macrobiotic diet, in case you hadn't noticed). As the meat browned and the aroma filled the kitchen, I tossed in half of a sweet onion roughly chopped. Oh man, did that smell heavenly. And no, I did not pour off the grease. 

After two boxes of reduced sodium chicken broth and one box of Garden Tomato Herb soup, I proceeded to add every vegetable I had: 2 cans diced tomato, 1 container fresh black eyed peas, chopped celery, chopped turnip greens, chopped fresh green beans, chopped sugar snap peas, chunked Idaho potato, chopped carrots, 1 bag of silver queen corn kernels, fresh parsley, fresh sage, thyme, & rosemary, Fresh ground pepper, sea salt, and of course Michael added cayenne to give it some zip. Aaaaahhhmmmmmmmm...

On a cold, blustery day... or when you have less than adequate insulation on an old house, soup is just what's needed. Holding the bowl warms your hands. Eating soup warms your tummy. And an added benefit? You can soak your cold feet in it.

Just kidding.

If you have some, thick slice a piece of freshly baked Italian boule. Slather it with real butter, none of that fake shit.

Now that's comfort food on a cold, winter day. 

So, use this recipe, and give yourself some comfort. Trust me. It's worth it! 

And besides, you deserve it  :-D

Perfect on a cold night...

I'm at my friend, Patti's house. She has built a crackling fire. Outside it is windy and bitterly cold. Inside, however, it smells like heaven. She is fixing clam chowder for dinner. She just offered me a glass of wine. Aaahhhhh... How perfect an evening. She and her husband Rich call there place The Franklin Arms. They love to have people come and enjoy their wonderful home space here at Shiloh Stables. Patti is retired and living the life of her dreams. And I, (fortunate soul that I am to know her), am here treating myself to some very relaxed girlfriend time. Good friends, good food, special times.

Habits of Prosperity

Louise Hay says, "For every habit we have, for every pattern we repeat, there is a need within us for it. The need corresponds to some belief we have. If there were not a need, we would not have it, do it, or be it. There is something within us that needs the fat, the poor relationships, the failures, the cigarettes, the anger, the poverty, the abuse, or whatever there is that's a problem for us. When the need is gone, you will have no desire for the over eating or the failures, or the negative pattern."

Wow. Don'tcha just love her?

Every outer effect is the natural expression of an inner thought pattern. In other words, we prove our beliefs. I heard that many years ago from a wonderful man named Bob Burr. He was leading a co-dependency workshop in Chattanooga, Tn. He followed that thought with examples of how he set out, albeit unconsciously, to prove his beliefs about women with his wife, Judy. I could truly hear the "GONG!" in my head.

Here is an example: If my inner thought pattern is "Men are controlling", then I will unconsciously look for behaviors in my husband that I can label as controlling and at some point say, "SEE?! Men are controlling! That proves it!"

Here's another one: If my inner thought pattern is "I don't deserve to feel good", then one of my outer effects can be poor health. Or I create wonderful, feel-good experiences in my life and unconsciously sabotage them because I won't allow myself to feel good for very long. My mother does this. I watch her sabotage her joy on a consistent and regular basis. She grew up in a home permeated with beliefs around scarcity. So joy, among other things, is ...rationed if you will. Not uncommon for people who grew up during the Depression.

Here's another physical manifestation of internal beliefs: If my thought pattern is "My boundaries aren't respected", then an outer effect can show up as added layers of protection/fat, which is a physical boundary.

If we have inner thought patterns of scarcity and lack, then we will live our lives from a place of scarcity and lack. And we will always be hungry for more. I have a friend who cannot have a conversation without giving some verbal expression and attention to lack of money. But interestingly, my friend has a beautiful, well-maintained home and always manages to pay the bills and have enough good food to eat. If I live from a place of lack, no matter what abundance I may have in my life, I cannot see anything but lack. It becomes my experience because it is what I live internally, not externally.

This scarcity and lack thing is an issue I have been intentionally working on changing in my life. I grew up with those messages and developed those beliefs in my own psyche. And it wasn't just around money. In my home growing up, the experience was there is not enough money, time, love, energy, attention, anything. It permeated everything. So in my family, we experienced the world from a place of "not enough".  

The good news is we learned our beliefs, so we can UNlearn them. We can teach ourselves new thought patterns. It is a practice... just like meditation. I have been working with a particular affirmation. I look in the mirror into my own eyes. It goes something like this: "I now realize that I have created this condition, and I am now willing to release the pattern in my consciousness that is responsible for this condition. I release the need to create scarcity and struggle in my life. I deserve a life of ease, comfort, and joy. I now create an ABUNDANCE of good things in my life. I am now open to prosperity of health, prosperity of wealth, prosperity of relationship. I am open and receptive to all good!"

This practice of developing new thought patterns has created indescribable joy in my life. I am happier and more content than I have ever been. I had mistakenly thought that the way to that joy and contentment was in having the 'wealth' of things I thought I lacked. Only then would I feel ease, comfort, and joy. But what I discovered is that that kind of thinking is backwards. The key is to first change my thought patterns. That creates good feelings in my body; the joy, contentment, ease, etc. And then interestingly, when I am in that place of joy and contentment, it appears that from that place is where I create and attract the external 'wealth'. Ah-Ha! Who knew?