Just

It’s another day, and I’m enjoying it – enjoying just being me. Jeepers! WHAT is that ‘just’ in my last sentence doing there????? Is that the evidence of an old belief that little ol’ me, Lucy, is not worth being, that being me is a second-rate thing to do? I’m thoroughly shocked at what rolled off my finger tips right now, and sense a constriction in my chest and throat. But I’m glad that I’m aware that I’m noticing it. ‘It” feels like a discrepancy between what I’m feeling/doing and what I just wrote. Is it? Am I kidding myself that I’m seeing myself differently now, that I know and like and am really excited that ‘being me’ is a full time adventure/occupation/career/hobby and nothing to sneeze at or disparage or avoid? And that I’m not little, either.
Breathing is good, and right now, advisable!

. . . . . .


That was a huge movement! And at the end, I started playing with the word ‘just’ – just me, just being me, just right, just terrific . . . What an interesting, benign word in some contexts; and in the context that I construed it at the outset, it was pernicious. Just being me wasn’t ‘exclusively, purely, solely’ as it rolled off my fingers; it was ‘merely’ and somewhat apologetic and belittling. How Interesting, I sobbed to myself!

My father popped to mind as my breathing deepened. HE was a pro at considering himself ‘of lesser value’, and at keeping himself small, quiet and lovable. In fact he considered not standing out nor exposing himself to be ‘worthy’ attributes. He died at 68, having never given himself a chance to shine brightly; he produced wee sparks of life in moments when he felt safe and accepted; he otherwise kept himself small and silent; his friends and family loved him, but probably only knew a tiny part of him. And I grew up, not only to look just like him, but to be like him.

At Oceanstone in June, Amy was using her wonderful Reiki skills on my foot and, on the side (!) was able to sense my father’s presence in the room. It was an unexpected and welcome moment for me then; a first for me. It allowed me to express/feel/engage an enormous sense of grief that I had locked inside my body for thirty years. Over the weeks since then, I’ve been thinking a great deal about our conversation that night, and of my father’s importance in my life. The Emerging Futures conversations had brought home to me clearly that I am no longer willing to, and cannot – for MY sake, ‘keep myself small and puny’. My body knows this. One result of bringing my father’s spirit back into my awareness is that has the intensity and depth of what I’ve ‘signed on to’ grows enormously. It’s almost as if I’m growing more, being more, with him. And I feel my father’s encouragement and even pride that I’m doing what he never allowed himself to do. So it’s as if I have broken out of a shell/box (one with no air nor space to move and grow). There’s no guilt or shame, just a liberation and rejoicing. (Boxes are important parts of many Wel-Systems conversations I've had. Here they are again, today. Onion Layers!)

Having my father along for the ride, and having ‘announced’ my debut to the children this weekend . . . I feel pretty damn great! And big, too. I’m not quite the citizen of the world making a difference (those at the Emerging Futures will recognise the reference), but I see that my days of putting people on pedestals is over, and my days of being a full citizen with a unique and vibrant identity have begun.

So, if I go back to ‘just being me’ – I write the phrase without shock and dismay, now.
On the one hand, I still construe that phrase, as stated that way, as a second-rate occupation AND I feel strongly that it’s my old way of seeing myself. I honestly think those words will not roll off my fingertips again; that I will either drop the word just, or substitute it with really, totally, fully . . . . And soon, I think, I won’t even be writing about the novelty of ‘fully being me’ because it will have become how I move through the world at all times. My ‘roles’ of mother, wife, daughter, efficient woman and so on are losing their edges daily, I’m noticing, and MY true, own edges are feeling brighter and clearer minute by minute.

Blogging helps, but not as much as breathing does!
Both never end up where I think they will at the outset. And that’s so great, or do I mean that's absolutely JUST great?

Welcome Changes

I’m starting to recognise that my days of helping and/or pleasing others in order to give me the illusion of being accepted and necessary are over. I’m actually living differently – most of the time, at least! I’ve started making choices to say no, to ‘book out’ of the scene and do something that is meaningful to me – regardless of whether it’s helpful to the collective, to say yes to impulses even if it means deviating from what I had said I‘d do. It feels bold, strong and good in my body. Last year, under the same circumstances, when/if I acted that way, I’d feel guilty, selfish. Now it just feels like me.

.....……

I have had a hugely meaningful ‘conversation’ with my children. Both were here at the cottage this weekend (and Stefan is in Ottawa for RIA). I knew I wanted to finally say ‘my truth’ to them both, and together. I had no idea how this decloaking would happen, and I can’t even remember now how it actually did unfold. But I know that I was ‘there’, I was present, and what came out was right for the three of us at that time. Up until yesterday, my son was far more aware of my search for more, and of my discoveries. I have been reticent to expose myself to my daughter but I am fully aware that the time is more than ripe, and that I want to be totally honest with her too about who I am becoming. I think, in retrospect that I wanted to have them both together as I already can sense my son’s supportive and interested presence, and felt stronger with him at my side. I learned last evening that I had overdone my concern; my daughter listened actively and I felt her ‘at my side’ as well. I was honest about my new intention to actually live MY life. They could see that I ‘mean business’ about my intention to stay awake to my body, and about allowing myself to voice my thoughts, my feelings and to act on them whenever I have the clarity and impulse. They learned that I would probably be doing many things differently from now on, and they voiced their encouragement. We didn't talk about our love for each other, but I felt it in the room; and I think they did too.

I remember now that I used the following image: up til recently, I’ve been wanting a gin and tonic but I’ve been chicken to pour a strong one, or a large one, for fear of rocking the boat. So I’ve been pouring, or asking others for, tonic over ice and lime, and then I wonder why it’s not satisfying. And other various attempts at moderation and acceptableness, thinking I’d end up with a small, pleasant drink, Obviously, I’ve been mixing a watered-down version, insipid potions and never the real thing. And now I envision a very tall, strong, delicious G&T and I’m discovering how to mix it.
We had a good giggle, partly at how dumb the analogy is, but also, I think, because they had a vision of a new me, bolder and stronger and enlivened. At least, I saw myself that way as we talked, and it felt good - worth a joyful chuckle.

Later last night, and in fact, even now, lots of stuff was/is moving inside me: relief - that I’d chosen to (finally) speak up and out, and that I’m showing that I’m here now and alive in a new way; happiness - as I feel fully visible, and supported and accepted - sensations which are, for me, not insignificant!
And now as I write, I feel amazement that my family is willing to let me explore and grow, and are willing to accompany and support, even encourage me in this. I had underestimated, or misunderstood, them; I feel very grateful, very lucky – even though THERE ARE NO ACCIDENTS!

……….

This morning, with the pouring rain outside, I gathered my four granddaughters around the table to paint. Even the three-year-old twins were totally focused and absolutely into the joy of smearing colours onto paper and seeing, and liking, what resulted. The five and seven year olds were more expert at handling their brushes and/but equally happy to create magic and surprise as their little sisters. The little bodies expressed pleasure and joy; their voices were clear and bright. I was learning a lot from them just by being with them, aware of what I was seeing and feeling, and living every minute of it. Not for a second did I wonder “isn’t there more?”

Sensations

I created the space around me for an hour, this morning, to sit and just be, alone on the porch. The temperature, degree of sunshine, smells and silence (except for the 'natural' sounds - sans human intervention) were perfect. And as my breathing got deeper, and the ache in my foot (and extending up my right leg too) became fainter, my mind cleared and my 'understanding' that the moment was a huge one - without boundaries of any kind - was deep and meaningful. Although I don't know what it meant in the sense of KNOWING. And I don't mind that at all any more; I'm grateful for the wonderful feeling of abundance and safety that flowed through my body.
And the afternoon continues merrily, with the sounds of children's voices rejoicing with sound and movement on swings and plastic tractors and all the other props we have here to supplememnt their little legs when they 'need to move through space and experience their own bodies in motion. And the feeling of pleasure and interconnectedness remains in and enlivens MY body as I see aspects of myself reflected in the children carreening around me, each one different and unique, each one wonderful.
And NOW I've got to stop this musing, and get back - off the page into the flow - but this brief moment of writing has felt great. I needed to SAY my thoughts, I guess, and I'm glad I heard my body and migrated over to the computer.

Here and NOW

I've so much to say, after the Emerging Futures - Leasdership program, and after a week of "real life" following the experience in Oceanstone, and now, today, here . . .
But time is NOT abundant for writing. I'm living in the present, choosing and moving; it feels bigger and fuller and it's wonderful. AND I'm going to make time very soon, to enjoy getting some of the whirling sensations that feel so good, into a communicable form to share with y'all.
For now, know my holodeck is rich and vibrant;that you're in my thoughts, and those of you who've blogged after and during the EF days have said lots that I 'could have said' too; and it was/is great to read it, and resonate with it and to continue to be in that space with you which felt so good, so big, so alive.

It just took a second

There’s a nice ring to it: I fell into a mouse hole. Surely it’s the beginning of a good story; and I have no idea about how it will go on from there. And that’s probably my point. Who knows why I just ‘bought myself’ at least two days of serious down-time? And where they will take me? Day one ended with an appropriately beautiful sunset over the hills on the far side of the lake. Our cottage sits on the opposite hill so we get wonderful sunsets, especially in June when the greenery is lush and the shadows are soft.

I’m here for some quiet quality time and to prepare for Summer ‘07 when there’ll be four small turbulent but wonderful grandchildren under this roof. And last evening I changed my ‘plan’ for My Days dramatically by misstepping. Which shows me again that I cannot know what’s ahead, and it’s certainly another invitation to let go and surrender into . . . into whatever. And I’m accepting my mouse-hole shenanigans as that, and enjoying the surprise and ‘not knowing’. I’m somewhat amazed that I’m not furious with myself for being so stupid and careless; and that all the tasks I had set for myself are not worrying me – I trust that they’ll get done eventually, or not.

Minutes before This Event, I’d been very aware of my inner self; I was very conscious of a wonderful feeling of completeness, strength, and joy. In fact, I’d just felt a huge release of tension in my shoulders that I’d welcomed as a letting go of fears – at least that’s what it had felt like. It seemed as if I was launching a huge balloon of blocked energy into the universe for recycling. So, very relaxed and ‘light’ inside, I’d stepped off the porch in order to stroll around the house before going to bed for a good read. But I never got that far.

My parents and caregivers were excellent at warnings: watch out or you’ll hurt yourself, watch where you go etc. It follows that safety from their disapproval, and my own carefulness regarding physical safety, have been important factors in my decisions of how to move through my life. And look at this! I’ve just done the forbidden, and I’m fine. Well, my foot hurts a lot, the swelling is impressive and the inconvenience of being here alone and hobbling painstakingly to and fro – mostly to the fridge to replenish the ice-packs, would seem like most people’s idea of ‘not fine’. It’s mine too, certainly, at one level. But I’ve everything I need here for a few more days, and what’s so bad about NOT being able to walk or drive? I’m aware today that this pain hurts, but that it’s not worse than hurt and that this kind of hurt/pain is not deserving of the fear and behavioural manipulations that I have been awarding it. (Granted if I’d broken my neck as I tumbled, I’d be singing a different song – or none.)

Taking my run-in with the mouse hole as a metaphor for many other perceived ‘dangers’ that I’ve taken pains to avoid or evade in the past, it’s seems like another way of telling myself that lots of the rules, barriers and fears that I have been living with aren’t necessarily valid for me any more. Did I have to sprain my right foot to illustrate this in bold bright colours for me? I guess so. Why did I tumble immediately after feeling the huge release of tension in my back? I don’t’ know, and there are no coincidences . . .
And what else will there for me to learn about myself during my days of ‘recovery’? I’m sure there’ll be lots and I intend to stay open and awake to what’s happening.
Can I ‘move on’ and learn and grow without inviting pain next time? Isn’t there a less dramatic way to gain ‘insights’?
If not, or not now, I’m aware that I welcome the fact that I’m obviously creating something, and it feels like living.

Poppety Pop Pop

My husband, Stefan, is in Russia for two weeks. The lines for our phone calls are so unclear, and the opportunities to call are infrequent that we get to say and comment on the essential stuff and then, by default, there’s space and time afterwards to reflect. In yesterday’s call Stefan was describing the people he spent the day with, and their enthusiastic welcome for him, and his attraction to them, their discussions and who he becomes when he’s there. And then he mentioned where he would spend today, and with whom – other good, warm, kind and appreciative friends. He stated that he’d have to ‘change coats’ as the second group is so different from the first (in profession, income, interests, humour, capacity for alcohol – to list a few). My first thought was Yes, that’s how we move through our life that’s filled with a multiplicity of ‘types’, groups, demands and stages or scenes – we ‘change coats’ to fit in with what the others are ‘wearing’. It works, I’ve done it, I do it well, too. And then, this morning, this penny dropped:

If we’re all interconnected, and if the ‘others’ are my creation and are reflections of me, or parts of me, on my holodeck, I don’t have to change coats and adapt to them. I can just open up and welcome them as different parts of me that I’ve chosen to ‘activate’ and work or play with. “Others” aren’t outside of me, they are in me; we are all of the same fabric. And my coat is more similar to their coat than I’d realized or admitted. So my way of moving through the world which has consisted of me AND them (best scenario), and me against them or them against me (in varying degrees of competition, opposition, resistance, proving myself, trying to stand tall and steady etc.) was Quite Unnecessary! I can perceive them as IN me, as aspects of me, and work/play with them as one team, not as opponents. I’ve spent a lot of time comparing and contrasting myself to others – never realizing that in fact, I was noticing aspects of myself and denying myself the chance to embrace some quality or behaviour, or learn from (in a constructive, not merely judgemental way), to abandon or disassociate myself from what/who seemed to be going in the wrong direction for me (given my BVAs and intention). And for those I wanted to be with, spend time with, attract into my circle, I would change my coat, thinking . . . what? that I’d be different if I didn’t, that I’d stand our and be rejected or ignored? that it’s what’s required by their rules in their world? that I’ll actually BE more like them if I look/act like them? And all the while, ‘they’ are me and I am ‘them’! Wow. I know I ‘learned’ this at ITS; but until today, the hugeness and magnificence and IMPORTANCE for me hadn’t sunk in, inside and throughout me.

Wonderment, again!
LOTS to ponder, and given this new Pop, lots that seems to be shifting radically inside, opening up space for me to be me, coat-free as it were, and just revel in all my colours and styles and lengths and textures that I can expose at will, and where I can see myself more clearly through, and with, ‘others’. (Note to self: coat is a modern cloak, and all I’m saying is DEcloak, Lucy! But this time I see it in a new light. I’m not decloaking in front of others, to be seen or judged (for better for worse etc.). I’m decloaking as coats aren’t necessary in this new world, in my new reality. I’m not going to change ‘em to fit in, I’m going to discard them, for greater transparency. My coats are getting in the way of learning and seeing and being.)

My earlier blog about camouflage and dazzle comes back into my mind. I’m going in circles, I guess, but it feels like I’m getting into richer, denser zones, and I’m really enjoying the ride – wherever it’s heading. I think the pace is quickening, and I’m very ok with NOT putting on the brakes. Untypical for me, if I think back. But why would I? I’m not there, I’m here.

Exuberance is abundant

I think MJ and I are the only two people around here who’re NOT watching the Sens game and cheering like the bejeesus because they’ve scored. The Market is one hub of the celebrations, and it’s a hive of activity. Folks are swarming around . . . just wait ‘til the game’s over! It’ll get outta control below my window! I like being on the edge of the party in this case . . . I never liked the feeling of being a wall-flower as a teen, but I am very ok with not being part of a hockey crowd tonight and merely getting the sounds, and being fully aware of an amazing amount of energy exploding through this overflowing neighbourhood.

I’ve just returned from the Vietnamese Palace with MJ. It was a pleasant evening, relaxed and companionable vibes. Our conversation ranged through all the levels, and from the personal to the general, and it felt good, open, honest, with enough time for both of us, with pauses and distractions and giggles. No real problems to discuss, just updates and insights and questions about invitations and things to get curious about. It felt like a part of an ongoing conversation that will continue and evolve. And there’s no goal, no result, no finite game aspect.
Unlike what’s going on outside . . . judging by the loud eruptions, the Sens must be doing well and the game must be nearing the end as the nervousness and excitement level are mounting; there’s urgency in the air.
MJ and I had none of that - and the openendedness and the lack of hype and time-running-out anguish were very welcome.

So we’re all interconnected, and yet I feel quite separate from the fans – except for the acoustics of course. And how many other close ‘neighbours’ do I have – near and far . . . where there’s a connection that I am totally unaware of even though we’re all part of the same field? Is this part of the ‘thought’ I shared with MJ tonight? Namely, that I’m very aware that in the last month I have met innumerable ‘new’ people who are doing amazing things with and for other people, filled with passion and commitment, who are alive and buzzing and their inner movement /flow is apparent in their body language and their eyes, and evident in the paths they are taking or clearing or forging,
It’s interesting to wonder what the message for me is . . . why have I created the opportunity for these many encounters right now, this month, and what is different from other times when I have had similar encounters with other amazing people. The huge difference is ME. I am aware that these are invitations, big ones for me, to open my eyes and ears to what I wasn’t seeing or hearing before – both around me and more importantly (or empoweringly!) WITHIN me. I realize that each of these ‘models’ has given themselves full permission to dare, to leap, to create; and each is living an adventure he/she has chosen, with all the ups and downs and arounds that are part of such undertakings.

In the past, I felt really excited and impressed but puny and small around these ‘role models’, these amazing people. This time ‘round, I sense that I am waking up to the realization that I also have something to bring to the table (and that I already have a chair there, I’ve just never sat in it) . . . I don’t know where this is going, precisely, but there’s something growing in my inner garden; I’ll just keep watering and clearing out the weeds so that the flowers and veggies have a chance to grow strong and bloom/ripen. Obviously I have told myself for years that I don’t have this capacity – and I don’t have to know why. What is important to me now, tonight as I write, is to keep on putting on foot in front of the other, as Louise is wont to say, and to allow my fertile ground to do it’s stuff – patiently but actively, without fear, nourishing with gentleness and curiosity.

In the meantime, the urgency and drama unfolding on the street and all around the ‘hood tonight are reaching fever pitch. THEY have no fear of things getting ‘out of control’, those hockey fans; they’re inviting it. The police are amassing, ready for mischief, prepared to prevent ‘things going too far’. If I were to pick a character in this play for me to be, to act, who’d I be? – the ‘under-control’ detached observer on the sidelines? the wanna be exuberant following the others not knowing how to scream? the true, loyal supporter, elated with the outcome and going wild? the uniformed and bulletproofed protector and preventer? I guess I’d choose to be the genuine jump up and downer, the cheering whistler . . . and/but it certainly would be a first for me!
What’s wrong with this little mid-game is that the play I’ve chosen to act in isn’t resonating . . . The hockey game, even if it’s the Stanley Cup, just doesn’t do it for me.

But I’ve made my point to myself with the metaphor: in the Theatre of My Choice I’m going to be out there for all to see and hear; and you’re all invited to perform in it with me; I’ll need you, and it’ll be wonderful.
I talk as if this is something still to happen, don’t I? And I realize this is dumb – it IS happening, it just doesn’t look like a recognizable piece of art; yet it’s a creation (albeit still under wraps a lot of the time) . . . and it’s growing daily. And you ARE already performing with me – and I’m really glad of that. The process is exciting, isn’t it?!

The Sens have won tonight, I’m sure of that. The honking of car horns outside is deafening, but absolutely appropriate for the excitement I feel inside, about MY own game. Exuberance is abundant. And there are no coincidences!