What labels do you put on yourself? What labels do you put on others?
I’ve been noticing lately that labels have been causing so much pain, heartache and division.
So, why do we label ourselves then?
In my opinion, it’s because we want to simultaneously belong to something and to declare our uniqueness. And of course, those are polar opposites. We want it all!
The problem with assigning labels is that once we’re convinced that we (or someone else) belongs under a certain heading, we have to prove that it’s true.
Here’s an example.
Once, I attended a retreat where there was a woman who was fanatical about being a vegan. She turned every conversation, regardless of the topic, into a lecture about why she was a vegan and why everyone else listening should be one too. It was fun to be around her.
I ended up in a group with her where we were playing improvisational games. One activity was a “yes” game. We stood in a circle and made up a...
Last week, we discussed (or really it’s more that I told you… not a whole lot of back and forth going on here) how self-care is NOT selfish. And I vehemently urged you to make sure that you have daily practices in place that are self-caring beyond putting on nice-smelling bergamot lotion and having bubbly lavender baths.
Don’t get me wrong, your skin is important and so is time to yourself amidst the bubbles, if that’s what you like, but you can take all the fizzy sudsy soaks you want and things will pretty much be the same when you get out as when you got in. If only a bath could infuse you with a heightened sense of self worth...
Anyway, this week, I’d like to laser in on the topic of food.
Oh food. Glorious food.
Food can certainly be used for self-care. It can also be used for self-sabotage. And pretty much everything in between.
If you’re anything like me, you may have experienced complexities in your relationship with food.
In the last month, I’ve had many conversations with clients, potential clients and other women in my life. Something I keep hearing is that women are concerned that self-care is selfish.
“If I spend time on myself, won’t other people think I’m not there for them?”
“Won’t they think I’m too into myself?”
“How can I really care for others if I’m spending time on me?”
“Isn’t it selfish to want more than I’ve got?”
“If I do what’s right for me, won’t other people get hurt?”
I’ve written this post many times in my head already, and every time, it gets me riled up! Thank goodness I’m writing it for real this time so I can move on.
Warning: This is going to be blunt. If any part of this message seems to hurt or cause a trigger, it’s most likely because it’s true. If you’re feeling fragile today, you might want to save it for another...
I just love a fresh start, don’t you? I hope you’re enjoying the lightness and possibility that comes along with the beginning of a new year.
Next, I have to say thank you to every one who joined in the fun of the Year End Review and the Conscious New Years Celebration. Man were they good!!! And it was lovely to see your shining faces, even if they were on a screen.
This week, we’re going to do something a little different. Once in a while, very occasionally, I’ll recommend a resource that’s made an impact in my life. That’s what I want to do this week.
8 years ago, I came across a program called Your Year of Miracles that was being taught by Marci Shimoff and Debra Poneman. I was pretty sure that I knew everything they were going to teach (hello dear ego!) but my heart nudged me to join anyway.
Good thing, because it revolutionized my life and I’ve been involved in Your Year of Miracles ever since.
Emotional suppression is the root of pretty much all illness, dis-ease, chronic issues and injuries.
It stands to reason then, that one would wish to learn how to not suppress emotions, right?
I’ve got 2 related stories to tell you and then I’ll share how to receive emotions rather than push them away.
Ready? OK! (that totally reminded me of the very brief stint I had as a cheerleader in grade 7)
I received an email from someone last week who informed me that she would be unsubscribing from my messages due to the misinformation I spread in that particular email.
My mind went through a whole reel of reasons why I shouldn’t take her message personally. This is the cheerleader part of my mind. Let’s call her Star.
“It says more about her than it does about you,” Star tried to convince me.
“It’s good for people to unsubscribe when they no longer want to hear from you.”
“You don’t need to feel hurt. She...
Last week, we got into the spirit of Outrageous Gratitude and looked for the gifts of this Year of Years. If you missed part 1 of the 12 gifts, click here (if you want to read it, that is; if you’re ok with just part 2, then by all means don’t click. And congrats on your lack of FOMO!).
Talula made some guest appearances in Part 1, with her less evolved thoughts and contributions. She’s still in the corner, waiting to see if she’ll be needed for part 2. We’ll see.
So. The Gifts.
As I mentioned previously, there are a variety of metaphors that have emerged in our pandemical world that are disguised invitations to show up a little differently.
Here are a couple more for your consideration.
The Greeters. I don’t know if it’s the same where you live, but now, whenever you go into a shop or business around here, there’s someone there, standing guard. Sometimes they wear a white lab coat and carry a clipboard (as if...
Where I live, we’ve gone into lockdown again, similar to the restrictions we faced at the beginning of the Great Pause.
There’s a part of me that would like to rail against the imposed sanctions, that would like to get indignant and righteous. Let’s call that part Talula. Fortunately, I’ve learned to tame Talula and not let her be in the driver's seat. (She thinks she’s a gifted driver, but she’s not.)
The wiser part of me knows that the better choice is to receive what’s true right now and know that it’s for the highest good of my soul’s evolution.
(“But waaaah”, says Talula, “our Christmas celebrations at the Banff Springs Hotel can no longer happen and I’ve been looking forward to that for MONTHS. WAAAH!”)
I could choose to be angry about the change in plans, or I could choose to go with the flow and trust that something even better is on the way.
(“Better than Christmas in a castle in...
When my kids were little, we had a children’s book that seemed fairly simple and straight-forward, but about a decade later, it still has me thinking.
It was called Let’s Do Nothing and the storyline was about 2 little boys who were determined to find a way to do nothing. No matter what they did, though, (looked at clouds, lied still, just breathed) they found it impossible to do absolutely nothing.
Of course, they were right. No matter how little you think you might be doing, you’re always doing something.
Now, let’s look at the flip side of the coin.
We’re often admonished for doing too much. We’re human beings, we’re told. We need to do less and be more.
Admittedly, sometimes being productive can become a little *ahem… addictive. It feels great to get stuff done and cross things off that list. (I may have been known to add items to my list that I’ve already done, just so I can feel the great satisfaction of crossing...
Have you ever had something happen where you knew you wanted to let it go, but try as you might, your pesky mind kept bringing it up?
You may have reached deep down into your personal development toolkit and used some strategies, but to no avail. The energy of that something just seemed to linger and bring you down.
“What’s going on with that?” you might ask yourself. “Shouldn’t I be able to move through this kind of situation by now? Hasn’t all the work I’ve invested in myself made a difference? How annoying!!!”
So why does this kind of thing happen? What’s actually going on?
I’ve got some ideas. Two of them to be precise.
I was driving in the car to the farmers market the other day, listening to my daughter’s playlist with her, and a really powerful song came on, called “It’s a Beautiful Life” by Billy Raffoul. She had introduced me to the song a couple weeks before. Tearjerker! Take a...
Funny story (followed by some philosophical musings).
Last week, I boldly declared that I was going to imagine a big sign in the sky that said “Trust Me”. Remember the nice picture I made with the airplane sign?
Not a day later, our car got broken into. Things got stolen.
“Still trust me?” asked the Universe.
Can we say crossroads?
The answer to that question seemed super important.
Was I going to yell into the sky, “Why God? Whyyyyy?” (à la Joey from Friends).
Or was I going to let the incident roll off me like water off an aardvark’s back? (It just seemed less cliché than a duck.)
Interestingly, I got my answer from my body. When we first discovered that someone had been in our car, parked right outside our place in daylight (and then dusklight), I had no physical reaction. Not a twinge. Not a tightening. Nothing.
It just didn’t seem like that big a deal. Sure my husband’s designer sunglasses were gone...