No Words Adequate... Clearer Vision

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I haven’t known what to write these last few weeks. There are so many words to be said.

And no words feel adequate.

No words adequate to talk about the killing of George Floyd.

No words adequate to talk about the killing of Breonna Taylor.

No words adequate to talk about the too many more before them.

No words adequate to talk about systemic racism and white supremacy culture.

No words adequate to talk about the protests happening all over the world in response to these deaths, those systems, that culture.

No words adequate to describe the rage and grief erupting in the streets.

No words adequate to describe the empowered hope that somehow simultaneously is emerging.

So I’ll use the words I have as best I know how.

2020

20/20

Year of clear vision.

Even before the year began, I (and many others) described this year with those words. I didn’t have any idea what the words meant. I’m beginning to understand.

This year has brought clear vision of the wounds that have been covered up and festering under (sometimes) pretty bandages in our country and world.

This year is also bringing clear vision of the healing happening alongside the festering. The healing that is possible. The healing that is needed.

Maybe we don’t yet have fully clear vision, but at least clearer vision. I offer glimpses of my clearer vision, in no particular order. I’m sure to leave many things out.

Clearer vision of economic systems that haven’t been working for way too many people for way too long.

Clearer vision of ways we can support each other that aren’t tied to money exchange.

Clearer vision of our global interconnectedness.

Clearer vision of the domino effects of certain ways of connection.

Clearer vision of the domino effects of certain disruptions in global connections.

Clearer vision that essential workers are, in fact, essential and yet their value has been and, too often continues to be, undervalued.

Clearer vision of the connections that can be made and strengthened when we spend more time at home.

Clearer vision of the value of slowing down.

Clearer vision of what leadership looks like when driven by ego.

Clearer vision of what leadership looks like when driven by care for the Common Good.

Clearer vision of mountains and scenery obscured by the pollution in the “old normal.”

Clearer vision of the systems created that benefit me and harm, even to the point of death, my BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color) brothers and sisters. Health care, education, the carceral system, to name a few.

Clearer vision of just how quickly support systems can be put in place…when there is will to do so.

Clearer vision of the power of using our individual and collective voices.

Clearer vision of what and who is important to us.

Clearer vision of the grief that lives in us.

Clearer vision of the simple ways we can practice joy.

Clearer vision of the power of connecting with Nature.

Clearer vision of Love in Action.


Love in Action.

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Clearer vision.

The bandages are off.

We are beginning to tend to the festering.

To let the air in.

To apply healing balm.

Healing is not always pretty. It can be messy and painful. It can take much longer than we want it to. Much longer.

May we keep the wounds uncovered until they heal.

May we tend to the rawest members of the Body first.

May we accompany each other through the pain.

May we celebrate the times of relief and when we see tangible signs of healing.

May we have the patience to do all that is needed to create Collective Well-Being.

May we nurture Collective Resilience.


May we practice Love in Action.

May we practice it so fully that no words will be adequate to describe its beauty.   

Intense!

I don't know about you, but in the last week or so, I have been experiencing some intense feelings. My inner critic has been yelling and my inner child has been crying. Their combined voices urging me, sometimes simultaneously, to hide away from everyone and to pick fights with everyone have worn me out.

Thankfully, the voice of my inner wise woman has also been present, quietly waiting for the other two to scream or cry themselves out. When they settle down, she offers guidance. She accompanies them in exploring the rough terrain they are wandering through to see what might be prompting the anger, fear, and grief. She assures the critic and child that they're allowed to express their feelings and also suggests there may be ways to move through the feelings instead of getting stuck in them. When I- in my mosaic of parts and beings- trust her, she encourages me both to care for myself in simple ways- taking a walk, working in my garden, cooking, making art, loving on my cat, Frida- and to reach out to friends who may be able to offer care that amplifies the self-care. I have been trying to heed her wisdom. 

Earlier I was listening to today's 1A broadcast on How a Nation Grieves at Home. I found that program and this article on 10 Sneaky Ways Your Coronavirus Anxiety is Coming Out  to be helpful reminders of the many ways we are experiencing and responding to living through the coronavirus pandemic. Perhaps they will also offer you comfort in knowing that your experience of these strange times is both common and normal. I leave them for you to peruse without further comment. 

If a more humorous recognition of common ways we've responded to the pandemic would delight you, I offer this video: 
"Different People in Quarantine" by Tova Leigh

And if you're looking for something to soothe your soul, I offer these two timeless poems read by the authors: 
"Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver
"The Peace of Wild Things" by Wendell Berry
and this song: 
"Mercy Now" by Mary Gauthier



In the midst of all the feelings, I continue to offer workshops and classes, Reiki sessions, and heart portrait readings via Zoom. Each is a way of sharing practices that bring out my inner wise woman and encourage those I work with to call on and trust their own inner wisdom. I am particularly excited to offer my Communicating Across Divides workshop in early June. I hope you'll join me for one or many of these!

Blessings.  

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My Teacher, Resentment

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Thanks to Compassionate Communication, I have a greater awareness that my feelings, and yours, and everybody else’s, are our teachers. When I pay attention to them, look at what’s stimulating them, and go deeper to what’s beneath them, I can learn a lot.

One of my greatest teachers is Resentment. I don’t love to admit that I have a robust relationship with Resentment. I can happily say that I have a much healthier relationship than I used to have with him. I used to let Resentment inhabit a whole lot of my physical and mental space, tensing up my back, neck, shoulders, quickening my heart, making my head hurt. I used to let Resentment into my mind. He’d stuff my head with ideas about how one person or another had wronged me. No wonder I got headaches.

I’m now learning to notice Resentment when he comes to call, but instead of flinging the door open and letting him take over, I now greet him at the door and ask him what he wants. Most of the time, anyway.  

He tells me about how this or that person is taking advantage of me or taking me for granted or treating me unfairly. Sometimes old habits get the best of me and those stories sneak past the door into my head.

When I'm practicing my new ways, I listen politely. I thank Resentment for visiting to alert me that something’s not quite right in my house. I close the door without letting him take full possession of my physical space, because both his visits and cleaning up after he’s wreaked havoc can be exhausting. I assess my state of internal affairs. I’ve now done this enough times to know what to look for when Resentment appears at my door.

Have I been giving so much of my time and energy that I have depleted my reserves? Can I find ways to both give and receive in particular interactions, so that I experience a greater sense of reciprocity? Can I look for support from people other than who I am giving to? 

Has Resentment come to remind me to clearly ask for what I need so that others can respond with a similar clarity? I used to do a lot of hoping that people would fill needs I’d never articulated. Then Resentment would come to call when people didn’t read my mind and fill my needs. He’s great at making up nasty stories about how uncaring other people are. He’s also good at turning those nasty judgments on me. I now recognize his tricks.

Is Resentment trying to tell me to state my boundaries and to respect them? Other people are more likely to respect them if I do. Sometimes I notice Resentment approaching when I am about to say “yes” to something that really feels more like a “no.” I’m getting better at saying “no” before Resentment knocks. The world hasn’t ended because I’ve said “no.”   

Changing my relationship with Resentment is an ongoing process, a practice. I’m learning to not take his stories so seriously. I’m learning to thank him for his warnings, so I can get my house in better order.

When I get curious about Resentment or any other feelings, I can get clearer about my needs and values. When I know my needs and values, I can take action to meet them. When I take action to meet my needs, I feel empowered. When my needs are met and I feel empowered, I want everybody else to feel as good as I do and I try to contribute to make that happen. These are the kinds of ripples I want to make in the world. 

What about you?

What emotions are your greatest teachers?

What do you want to ripple out into the world?