Why do we do

what we do?

New year. Same you. New beginning. The miracle of life is at hand. Right now. Can you feel it?

The pounding of your heart. The whizzing of your breath. The buzzing of your energy. The humming of music playing overhead. The sound of your three-foot Target receipt printing. The cashier's apologetic smile.

Life is NOW. This. Is. It. The truth is that a fresh beginning is birthed in every breath. Every blink. Every precious heartbeat.

So, how do we become more present and available for the beauty and perfection of Now, you graciously ask? Survey says: meditation, of course. There, I said it. The key to all of life is meditation. Sorry not sorry. The single greatest tool for transformation, healing, and becoming Presence—EMBODYING WHO YOU TRULY ARE— in real everyday life is meditation. 

For those of you who just gasped, I get it. Really, I do. I remember the pain of accepting this universal truth. I waffled and bargained and wished it away. Wishing there was an easier way of coming home to myself than actually being with myself. 

But then life got real lifey, real fast, and one teary morning, I surrendered and committed to a meditation practice. The only place left to go was on my knees. Out of sheer desperation and panic, I began.

I chose to sit for five minutes a day. No matter what. No fancy program, no darling meditation cushion, no clue. I just sat in a chair on my back porch and waited for the timer to go off. A fresh beginning. I needed to keep a promise to myself and sit in the name of love—to come to know it, and be it for myself, so that I could end the war within and through out, and stop suffering my life away.

Fast forward twelve years. I no longer wait impatiently for the timer to go off or suffer my way through my days. Meditation is the most delicious part of my day. That divine nudge to sit with myself would turn out to be the most epic love revolution of my life, the beginning and end to my everything, and the longer the better. My practice has had a life of its own—evolving with me, as me, for meditation is not what I do, it is what I AM.

So, why did I sit, even when I didn’t want to and especially when I thought I sucked at it in the earlier days? Because I committed from a deeper place of self-love and devotion, instead of bypass and bullying. One moment of surrender. That was all it took. It was as simple and as serious as that. Because success does not happen at the finish line, it happens at the starting line. It is in the choice for love, and in the pride and courage of walking-it-out.

We may think that the spiritual journey is about self-improvement, transcendence, or even ascension, but it is about self-acceptance + self-love. Which is to say, acceptance and love of our own sovereign divinity. That is the whole enchilada: Acceptance is Queen. The end. Nothing in us is separate from Source; everything in us is an aspect of our wholeness.

We can’t work with ourselves until we understand, embrace, and love all of ourselves. And what better way to learn to get to know and accept the whole self than to actually pause and be with ourselves in the (ear-piercing) silence. As the French philosopher Blaise Pascal eloquently shared, “All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” and I can assure you that am living proof of that. I learned that if I can’t sit with myself peacefully, I damn sure can’t sit with anyone else peacefully, and if I can’t love myself, I can’t truly love anyone else.

Much like yoga, the process of meditation (re)trains the mind to learn to follow what is going on inside the body, instead of what is going on “out there”. The soul speaks to the body, and the body speaks to the mind, we just have to train the mind to listen. As we develop the endurance to focus through this discipline, the mind learns to trace and serve the current of higher energy, wisdom, and creativity that is constantly pouring in and rising up in the biofield. We become aware; equally present with ourselves and others.

With every conscious breath, the nervous system settles, the brain builds new neuropathways, the chakra system opens and heals, and suffering loses its momentum, feeling good begins to feel more “normal”, even welcome.

As we relax and soften, gently over time, we are able to accept and receive more and more of the wholeness and holiness that we are—and life transforms itself from the inside out, springing forth from the intention to love more, not less.

New beginnings. ‘Tis the season to inquire within:

Why am I doing what I am doing?

How is this behavior serving me?

How is this behavior not serving me?

What do I need to feel safe and loved within myself?

Unconscious intention only trumps conscious intention as long as it remains in the dark— as long as it can hide. The moment unconsciousness is brought into the light it begins to dissolve. It has no choice but to merge with the light and integrate, which is all it really wants and needs. I think of patterns like a small, neglected child hiding in the back of a dark closet, She is so used to the darkness that she fears the light, so she acts out, doing everything she can to control her environment and keep the light from blinding her eyes. When the mother flips the light on, it will feel too bright at first, her eyes will burn and she will resist, but given enough unconditional space, she will adjust to the brightness of day and slowly crawl out, in her own time, and come back to the mother. She will learn to trust love again, integrate [YOUR] soul energy and gifts back into the heart, becoming tethered and grounded to the core of the real you, as wholeness.

There is a reason, a deeper reason, a damn good reason, that we do what we do, and if we desire lasting change, we must stop ignoring our unconscious aspects and patterns and finally turn toward them as the Divine Mother would. She has to matter. YOU HAVE TO MATTER. All of you. The key that turns a resolution into a life-long revolution is listening with curiosity and choosing from a deeper, wider space of love that includes the healing of the inner child— because self-sabotage will continue to drive the bus as long as we ignore her and her unprocessed pain.

We have to ask why. We have to listen. We have to care. We have to reparent. We have to accept. We have to love. If we go deep enough we will find our innocence, and if we are willing to spend enough time and energy nurturing her back into a sense of safety and well being, the pattern will let go and shift on its own, just like magic.

Magic and miracles are as real as my heart is open. Case in point: my New Years resolution (and birthday wish and Christmas prayer) was always to lose weight, and as resolutions generally go, the junk in my trunk remained. Why didn't eating barrels of kale and zero carbs and zero fat and running seven days a week work? Because it was not sustainable; I had a deeper (and much louder) commitment to binge eat as a way of avoiding my shame and powerlessness than I did to sincerely creating a healthy, balanced, loving relationship with my body and food.

My conscious commitment : get skinny.
My unconscious commitment : I can't handle feeling my shame and powerlessness so I must eat to push it back down. Fuck you, body, this is a four-alarm emergency. *picks up fork* *maintains eternal shame cycle*

Fortunately for me, one particularly painful year in my thirties, I grew tired of being controlled by the unknown force driving my bus. Like, bone-fucking-tired. So, I spoke honestly with my therapist and decided to try something brand new: I set my intention to create a healthy and loving relationship with my emotions, food, and body. A novel idea. Sure, I had heard it all before, said it all before, but this time, I meant it.

I was ready.

Meaning: this lap around the sun, the shape and size of my body was no longer my concern, the word skinny was off the table, and the amount of emotional upset that I experienced per day no longer required negative judgment by me. My new diet and exercise program was to love every shred of energy arising inside of me, especially the insatiable one who wanted to eat. And shop. And drink. And consume all the things.

For one year, food and exercise was no longer the focus; my energy field was the singular focus. My only business was to pay attention to what was going on inside of me before I acted, to breathe love and appreciation into my precious body temple, to look in the mirror everyday and say l love you to my naked body, meditate on gratitude for how my body parts served me, and listen to the emotional intelligence of my pain body when it was triggered, and give it what it needed: compassionate breath.

When I found myself standing at the refrigerator or rummaging through the pantry, I would pause and ask what am I really reaching for? What do you need, beloved one? There was always pain there, something I was holding against myself, waiting to be acknowledged and released out my crown, if I would just breathe and allow it to flow through me like a cloud dancing across the sky and returning to the nothingness from which it came.

Over the years, the food and exercise worked themselves out as I learned how to feel and work with my emotions as raw energy. I learned that it wasn’t consumption that I truly wanted, it was connection. My body slowly and organically transformed into what I call my "God body"— the original gift, free of guilt, neglect, and abuse. With time and gentleness, I became a conscious eater and exerciser by graciously walking my binge eater and exercise tyrant home to love.

My reframed commitment: My power is tucked inside my pain. I have the strength and compassion to feel my feelings, to listen to their messages, to give myself the care that I am truly hungry for, and the unconditional love that I need to end my inherited pattern of neglect and abuse, so that I may finally live happy, joyous, and free in my body.

Now that I feel safe within myself, I no longer need the weight as protection— and I don’t need to hold the addiction as a distraction away from the light I was afraid to be. There is no diet or exercise program on the planet that can liberate my soul. Only my love has the power to do that.

And it did.

If you are feeling the divine nudge to meditate— or feel your feelings (instead of eating them or buying everything that you don’t need at Target)— but believe that you can't because you suck at it, or don’t have the time and space, or will never be able to have a healthy relationship with food or your body, I would offer for your consideration that all you have to do is explore your WHY and get to know that one that still doesn’t feel safe or worthy of goodness.

Step one. Ask yourself : Why do I really want to do this thing for myself? Is it worth my precious time? Will it uplift, support, and nourish me? Will it bring me into more alignment with who I truly am? Do I really, really, really want this for myself or do I need to remove it from the should-do list and just go have some fun?

Step two. If your answer is NO, go roller skating. If your answer is still YES, let the truth-telling begin : Why am I NOT doing this thing that I really want to do?
Listen.
Listen deeply. 
There is a commitment to something else tucked in your subconscious mind that wants to be revealed and acknowledged.
Observe the innocence that created that brilliant coping mechanism to survive. Love her. Love her hard. She has waited a long time to be heard. Say thank you for how she/the pattern served you.
Let the tears fall + cleanse you.
Gather all of the energy and place it in a bubble of light and release it to the sky like a balloon.
Watch the energy of that pattern release and dissolve. Notice: it isn’t you. It is energy and it can change form. Rewrite your true intention from love. 
Prepare to be in integrity with yourself and your true desires. 
Laugh out loud. 

Everything is energy. And you have the power to transmute all energy into its highest potential with the power of your love. Throw it onto the bonfire of your heart and allow it to burn + transform into the True You.

Say yes to YOU. You are worth the burn of transformation. You are worth the burn of sitting still to meditate. You are worth the burn of feeling your beloved shame. You are worth the burn of unraveling your nervous system. You are worth all the goodness that you are. May you give yourself the gift of feeling the warmth and love of your own nurturing and care everyday.

Happy NOW year, my friend! Cheers!
 

Rewriting the

Holidays

Ahh, all the pretty Christmas lights and bows, cards and clothes! I am a sucker for all of it, dazzled by every movie, party, holiday menu, frasier fir candle, and well-wrapped package. One of “those people”. A rejoicer in the holidays. Clark Griswold’s twin flame. (Is it possible to be an over-rejoicer?) It’s just all so gloriously warm and festive, joyful and triumphant. 

(Until it isn’t.)

It occurs to me that I came by this honestly. You can blame my mother for your annoyance with the “MERRY!” t-shirt that I wear everyday. I am completely innocent in this deal. It is simply my conditioning, because to be in her home for the holidays was to be in heaven on earth. 

The fireplace was lit, Nat King Cole played gently, red and green candles flickered, and the oven filled the house with fragrances that smelled like pure love. Her strong suit: palpable warmth. As a child, my whole body felt the meaning of Christmas when I woke up and walked into the living room. I felt the presence of love in her broad smile when she saw us, and in the way that she created a day rich with beauty, food, gratitude, laughter, and celebration, just for us. 

And I received it. 

It was cemented in my bones as "the way" we do the holidays. Her way. The way that I caught that feeling again: I am loved. 

Even as an adult, I had a death grip on each detail, wanting the food, the music, the traditions to be exactly as they had been. An eternal child longing to receive that moment of warmth and presence.

It turned out that this thing that I was chasing, the holiday high, was temporary and fleeting, gone with the wind of the winter solstice and the death of my mother. 

The holidays are a tender, sentimental season, exacerbating everything that lives beneath the surface. The joy and the loss, the celebration and the pain. We are story-making, meaning-giving creatures, doomed to recreate the familiar until we rewrite it for ourselves. We all come by our holiday experience honestly, either trying to (re)create all that was, or mourning all that wasn’t, or all that has passed away. We are the rejoicers and the bah-humbuggers of our childhood, innocent children craving love. 

After both of my parents passed, I had to face my holiday emptiness, and that “her way” was complete. I had to find new meaning—a deeper, non-fleeting meaning— as the old meaning had dissolved along with her physical form. Boy, had I given meaning to that one day. It carried so much weight, this perfect day packed with family and joy and celebration, now so empty. A listless, deflated balloon lying on the floor. 

Just like the cycles of nature, her death was offering me a rebirth—the gift of going inside and finding my very own interpretation and celebration of Christmas. Life. Death. New life.

My way. What does Christmas really mean to me? How do I experience the true meaning of it inside of me?

It took time. Years of rolling around on the floor with my suffering, and holding and nurturing my hurting little girl inside, until finally a Mystics Christmas was born onto me.

Grace is an island in the middle of the sea. I had to dive deep into the ocean of my consciousness, swimming through the darkness to get to the light, to unwrap my version of a conscious Christmas. The mystic in me knew that if I kept holding the surface beliefs—that family is what Christmas is all about—or friends, or loved ones, or anything outside of me— that I would be left holding the empty balloon at the holidays, over and over. Because if the meaning of Christmas is family and then family is gone….what then? 

What then. 

It is deeper than that. It has to be, for all that is temporal will pass away. That is the promise. We will all be left with our aloneness, just like Jesus on the cross, the beautiful truth of aloneness. My desire was to find the eternal in me and bring it into my holiday experience. And more importantly, into my everyday experience. 

As love would have it, I lost three beloveds and a beloved dog in less than three years. My heart was literally broken open, the deep loss cracking the shell around it, revealing the compassion that lived deep in me as I came to know the black grief, in the one and all. I received the great gift of death and grief—the softening of my heart—and for the first time, I could relate to the pain of the world. I understood it, intimately. It was then that the whole world became my new family. No longer afraid of grief or rage, I could hold it with tenderness for others because I knew of its sacredness. For the sacred had had its way with me, leaving me all alone in the wholeness and perfection of my connection with Spirit.  

For me, this is the mystical walk of the Jesus to the Christ. The journey in all of us of releasing our identification with our physical body and ego, and coming into our true spiritual identity. My life experiences walked me to a place of accepting that, in the end, I am walking this planet all alone, but that I am never alone. My connection to my Higher Self and Source is all that is really here for me. 

The rewrite. My holidays are a time of reflecting upon and accepting my innocence and holiness, the Christ Light in me, and in “other”, the holiness of the present moment, and the holiness of the ground upon which I stand. The birth of the true I am. We are.

If there is one thing that death taught me, it is this.  

Each year, I create the space for a new rewrite. My devotion to living deeper and lighter. Pulling away from the holiday demands and noise, I nurture the holy child of God that is my true nature, tapping into the pure awareness and playfulness within my child’s open heart, where there is nothing to defend against and nothing to hide, and in that space of stillness and openness, something new and divine is birthed in and through me. 

My Christmas present. 

This year, in the hustle and bustle of the holiday frenzy, I am birthing bringing Presence to what is. The wholeness of now. Where every moment is a holiday. Sitting in my open heart, The One Heart, that can hold it all, and honoring what is in me, in you, and what is in my life experience right now-- welcoming and accepting the sorrow and the bliss. Offering a complete YES to this moment. Whatever it is. 

Acceptance is a deeply humbling spiritual practice, to be sure. Emphasis on practice. (Jesus take the wheel!) Inhaling the moment. Listening. Holding. Loving. And, releasing the moment on the exhale.

And then, I proceed to put on my HO HO HO pajamas complete with red and white striped socks, build a fire, (and probably light a frasier fir candle for bonus effect) and pour a holiday cocktail to watch Christmas vacation. Bring it, Clark.

Because, still, my mother lives on in me. 

Wishing you your very own mystical Christmas… for you, and you alone, are the light of the world.