Save the Date for my Hugging Party

Recently I fell. I fell on slick tile, wet with coffee. I fell because I was thinking too fast, and moving too fast, and hurrying along my always busy life. In fact, I had been informed of the coffee spill by my daughter, who was getting into her truck bringing her art work to her college final, and going on to her first day at a new job. She told me as I clenched her in an unusual and very tight bear-hug. As I stood in the early Fall light with my arms around this grown woman, who is not only my own child, but my favorite person on the planet, I didn't know, I couldn't know, that this was a very significant hug. It was the last hug. The last real hug for a very long time.

If you know me, you know this means something--I am a hugger. I love to hug. It's part of my DNA. I am an affectionate, touchy-feely person. I like to give hugs and I like to receive them. I am tactile. I touch. I also believe a transfer of love and well being and happiness happens when you hug. I'm a fan. So, when I sped into my house and did a Funniest-Home-Video type long, excruciating fall across first my tiled landing, then over a table, and finally rolling and slamming full velocity to the tile below on my shoulder, you should know I didn't realize then that what I was really doing, besides breaking my humerus in four places, bruising both knee and pelvis, managing to rip all the soft tissue around my arm pit, shoulder, pec, and whatever else is there, was moving myself from a hugger to a non-hugger in the world.

Bummer.

As I fell I had the time to state aloud four times, "Don't get hurt!" Interestingly, this didn't help, but it was a lovely sentiment. It does however help anyone who is interested gauge the length of my fall from inception to "boom."

So boom I went. Being alone I (well, alone except for five dogs, two of them very sympathetic, two rowdy and uninterested, and one dumb) ended up calling for help, and help not immediately forthcoming, I called the paramedics. Happily, the paramedics arrived and proceeded to be extremely lovely to me and extremely calendar-worthy. (My shock-state allowed me to revel in the sheer beauty of the four strapping men before I actually felt how hurt I was.) Miraculously my dogs had quietly exited into my backyard where they all sat like statues without barking. This is a first, and it also proved that The Dogs Know What is Going On.

My Paramedic Team

My husband arrived mid paramedic massage of shoulders and luckily took me to the urgent care. When what to my wondering eyes did appear, but a humerus break, and unreasonable fear. The fear was the urgent care doctor who detailed a horrible round of surgery and pins, and so on. I stayed calm and called the surgeon and went in the next day. I was fairly concerned because my arm, previously extremely useful, was then "flappy" and uncooperative. Well, I did the X-ray and MRI thing, and then I was told while I had a severe fracture, I could manage the first steps of my own cure by simply holding completely and unreasonably still for weeks.

So I did it. I held completely still. My body became extremely aware and self-protective of my appendage. I held it close to my side, I inadvertently tensed all the surrounding muscles as I protected the break, and I held still. This included not being able to lie down, and, basically, not being able to do a heck of a lot of anything. Because my break was my right shoulder and by the Grace of God I am left-handed, I could do a lot of the embarrassing personal tasks we are all loath to include others in--even family members. But, even with all these blessings (break on non-dominant side, no surgery, etc.) the extreme mental and physical discipline of holding still is something hard to fathom unless you have done it yourself.

Happily, if you move too far from still, your body provides you with a gentle reminder: bone searing pain.

So I began my own version of nesting. Because I couldn't sleep on the bed we developed an intricate way of packing me with pillows into a secure sitting-up position on a plush love seat sofa. Complete with a round airline neck pillow and a couple of Vicodin, I could sleep extremely poorly and interruptedly for hour at a time. My horrible cries for assistance to get up or even move position were met with exhausted, but loving, assistance from family members. This kept up for about 50 days. They told me I could type (I couldn't), they told me I could tolerate a bra (right. sure. hysterical.), they told me I could do "anything I wanted but lift my arm."

Taking this literally, I undertook a long trip to my writing workshop six hours away. We had to abandon ship halfway there and get me a hotel and drugs to make it through that night. Eventually I settled into a long and happy love affair with old sitcoms and not having to do Anything in Particular.

At first this was horrible for me. I am an "up and doing" person with something going on at all times. Eventually I began to see the charm and innocence of old sitcoms. (I watched nothing upsetting including talk shows.) I ventured into the Home Shopping Network a few times but because I couldn't type my credit card in the website in the early days of my injury I am still the proud possessor of a retirement savings account.

I can whistle this theme song now.

So, as my family went about their lives, coming and going to school and work, running errands, even leaving the house to take out the trash, I sat and watched Dennis the Menace. I watched Father Knows Best. I went through a series of old Gidget movies. I had no desire for anything current. I didn't want to see anything that could in the least upset me or even make me slightly nervous. I just didn't have the emotional capacity for suspense. In fact, I quit Facebook feeling like it wasn't serving me, I took Twitter off my phone, and I just retreated, feeling like I didn't have any real friends and in all the pain feeling exceptionally sorry for myself.

Hawaii was awesome, Rome, not so much.

In situations like this you get who is there for you really quickly. I began to understand through this reality check that while social media had its place and in fact, I have even renewed a few old friendships there and made some new ones, for the most part, your social media lists, including Facebook are not your friends. The people who are your friends are the people who pick up the phone. They are the people who show up. They are the people who send actual snail mail or text on your (gasp) phone. I got that I have about 10 great friends. I am unbelievably grateful that I have that many. I also have some amazing family. I am a lucky person.

The time I have spent with my shoulder broken has been a series of interesting ups and downs. I have noticed that people won't stop for you in the street normally but donning a sling they get unusually nice. I have noticed that strangers have a tendency to grab your shoulder in exclamation a lot actually, and that even when you are released from sling duty you have to keep it with you to alert crowds. I have learned that without a bra I am a hopeless fashion don't. Period.



This ad just says so much.

 

In some ways not being able to maintain my usual schedule of working out, dressing up and facing the world looking as good as possible was the worst part for me. I have hated buying clothes a size bigger for comfort and I have hated not being able to get my hair right. I have hated my emotional fragility. I have hated the crying.* That is until I decided I had to cry. And once I allowed myself to cry I have just kept it up. I am now officially a person who will cry every time I feel like it--hopefully forever. If you are with me I won't adopt my mother's old "put on your sunglasses" privacy stance. No, I will just cry. It prevents migraines. I will also laugh. Loud and hard. And someday when I am healed I will laugh like Santa and giggle and jiggle and bounce and fly across the room.

And while I fly across the room dancing and laughing and filled with amazing mirth, if you happen to be there I will grab you and we will twirl in a happy dance. We will twirl the way we did in the grass as 8-year-olds. We will laugh until we cry and fall into each other's arms and hug and hug and hug.

And that sounds like a beautiful time. Doesn't it?

Hugging.

Come to my Hugging Party.

So save the date. This is your invitation to my hugging party. I might send paper invitations to real people. There will be a crowd of less than 20 and the hugs will be the best part.

Happy Holidays!


Love--

Beauty

* If you have ever had physical therapy you know that crying is an every day thing--and in fact the thing that PT survivors recount the most when they discuss it.

You Just Don't Get It



When I am looking for more Twitter followers, I post a saying that Buddha said. Usually this is in the form of a neat image with some sort of flashy picture with a saying superimposed on top: Buddha says, "Be cool." Buddha says, "Start being who you want to be today and release the past." Buddha says, "Get over your anger." One great thing about posting this sort of thing to Twitter is an instant increase in followers. Another, (and actually the real reason), is that all of these pithy sayings actually make sense. You should, indeed, let it go. You can only lose that which you cling to. You shouldn't believe everything you read. Including this. I figure if I post these things I will remind myself what I need to think about. I will connect with people who also want to remind themselves. There is nothing at all negative about it. My daughter (who is college-age and a bit of a cynic) calls me a "Namaste Hipster." That's okay. Namaste as a concept is something to aspire to, and certainly being a hipster gives me some level of street cred, even if it's only with myself. That's something.

But, I am blowing smoke. This isn't what I am here to write about today. I am writing today to talk about how social media is just a tiny keyhole into our real lives. That sometimes we post, thinking that people will see what we are posting, and "get" something we wish we could say to them, perhaps some information we want them to have about us. Something to improve their image of us, or to ensure them that we are fine without them, or let them know that we are missing them, or a myriad of other reasons.

The problem is, how the heck do you really know if they are stalking your social media on the level needed to grasp your veiled meanings? And like everything in text, veiled meanings and deep subtext are just rife with the possibility for misunderstanding.

I have a family member from whom I am estranged. That's an ugly sentence. It means that the relationship is so broken down, so damaged, so negative, that we have walked completely away from knowing each other. The person that I am estranged from has been, in the course of my life, a very important person to me. One of the people I counted as the inner circle, a friend of my heart. Until.

Until the break. Breaking off a love relationship--even a platonic, family relationship, is a serious thing. It is something you think about every single day. But as each day passes, the idea that you can just pick up the phone becomes more remote. The passing of time makes the gulfs between people wider and more complicated. Anger and pain seem to be more willing co-conspirators than peace and acceptance. People get cloaked and choked in their own stuff.

And sometimes you really do have to make a break for it. The person in your life is truly hurting you. They have made it clear they don't respect your life choices, they have has mocked what you love, and made it clear that they hate you more than they love you. You can't build a relationship out of someone's hate and disrespect and anger. You can't build anything. The best you can do is walk away praying that some day they will get it. That they will wake up on some imagined morning of the future and say, "Oh, my God, I was wrong. I need to call and say that I love and accept this person."

But that doesn't happen. People don't do that. People don't stay and work on it. People don't try to make amends, they don't try to see the value in those with whom they are estranged. The problem with estrangement is it becomes so self-aware and uncomfortable. The leap to communication is across a huge gulf, filled with hatred. A soul-sucking, defeating, soup of disrespect. Who wants to take a pole vault and try to make it over that?

Estrangement has another bedfellow. Time. Time and estrangement are in it together. They are in cahoots. Anger makes people forget to check their watches. To check their calendars. To check reality. And time is a thief. Time takes your hand and kisses you gently on the lips and then tosses your unsuspecting ass off a cliff. Just like that. Just like that.

Have you ever been so pissed at someone you want to write explicit instructions preventing them from attending your funeral?

Funeral notes: A live band with people singing songs I have written, a full dance floor. A seafood bar and a martini fountain. A slide show of my theatrical hits. A case with my Tonys displayed. A bouncer at the door to prevent (insert offending name here) from attending.

Anger makes some pretty elaborate plans. Love isn't so organized. Love says, "Come on. Whatever. Just be kind." Love says, "I forgive you. I know you didn't mean it. I know you have your issues as I have mine."
Anger gets bouncers. Love gives hugs.

Life is so very short. Life is a wisp of smoke, a flower that blossoms briefly and wilts, a shining brief instant, a falling star. Lovers and friends and siblings and children, and people who should love each other but have replaced their love with anger should consider taking heed.

Anger throws a casual arm around your shoulder and says, " You have plenty of time. You have pressing concerns! You have to work. You have to produce. You have bills to pay. You don't have time for people's emotional baggage."

Love knows you don't have time. And the time you do have is never going to be enough. You will never have enough time to hold the hand of someone you love. You will never have enough time for those side-splitting laughs. You will never have enough time to raise your voice in greeting, in excitement, in happiness, and in song.

So make the call.
Answer the email.
Book the flight.
Show up for coffee.


And, for everyone's sake, jump across the table and the scary gulf of hate and fear and clench people in those bear hugs that we all love to receive.

Get over the fear. Life is remembered by the moments of love and connection we share with other living beings. Nothing more. Even the greatest art is really only mass connection. Everything that we love and share is about connection.

So, here is my paragraphs-long Buddha post. Except I am the Buddha today. I am a living representation of spirit and as such I claim my higher self and speak those words to the people who need to hear them the most.

Everyone I love--let me take this time to tell you how I love you. How I remember our friendship and our childhoods and our moments of laughter and our deep conversations. Let me tell you I am honored and grateful for the things we have shared. I am grateful for the days on the beach and the glasses we clinked. The moments of recognition. The warm hugs. The happy hellos. The emotional reunions. I am grateful for the jubilation. I am grateful for the understanding. I am grateful.

And to me: Take your own advice. Just try.

Don't Bring Me Down!

You've got the power!

Have you ever tried to change your life in some meaningful way and found that sometimes people who you think are supposed to be in your corner just aren't? Have you got "friends" or loved ones who say they are on your team but in reality are alienated by your attempts to change your life, reinvent yourself, or get healthy? Have you just assumed you were too sensitive, even though they were negative, or passive aggressive, suddenly just not interested in your progress, or downright mean? Have you assumed that it was somehow not them, but you?

Well, guess again. When you are actively looking to change your life and people freak out and suddenly act less positive to you it can only be a couple of things:

1. They are envious. Maybe they want to change something about their lives too, but as yet they don't feel ready. Instead of getting real with themselves your attempts for something better alienate them. People who are like this can often turn their own negativity about themselves toward you.

2. They fear that your transformation will take you away from them somehow. They fear that you will lose weight or get healthy or follow your dream and leave them. It's a fear-based reaction and not based on reality. People who we love hope we change for the better. They support and encourage our dreams. They cheer us on--even if they are not where they want to be in life.

3. They are rescuers and your ability to heal yourself and take care of yourself and show some gumption and resolve gets in the way of their need to fix you. Some people are into the "broken wing" syndrome. That is, they love fixing people, rescuing people, and helping others to the point that they don't deal well with those who hook into their own empowerment.

4. They are toxic and you didn't see it. People who love you empower you. People who love you are on your side. People who love you applaud your efforts and want the best for you. People who love you who are having their own problems have the grace to tell you that and make it clear that their personal issues are theirs, not yours.

Long ago I had a friend who gave me a short and sweet piece of advice: "Hang around people who like you." This is a golden rule and one to live by. It is also completely true. People who like you and, especially, love you should make you feel more good than bad. When you need them they should try to be there for you as often as they can. When you share your successes they cheer--they don't say, "Stop bragging." Look at how you treat those you like and those you love. Are you good to them? Are you doing the things you ask for in return? It's not a one-way street. You must be willing to give to them as well. You must give what you want to receive.

So, try something new this week. Just start paying attention. If people aren't supporting you or are acting hostile or passive aggressive to you as you start to change your life to live healthier, sit them down and have a kind and loving discussion. Ask for what you need. People who love you will always try to give you more of what you need, not less. Give people time to get on board. Especially those you love. Rome wasn't built in a day. But, after you have informed people gently and with love about what you need, make some good decisions for yourself. You deserve respect. In fact, you must insist upon respect. It's never too late to learn this or to change your circumstances.

The message for today is: Take care of yourself. Align yourself with people who help, not hurt. Align yourself with people who make you feel good, not bad. Do not allow anyone to make you feel the good things you do for yourself are selfish. Surround yourself with positive, nurturing, supportive people. Send those who aren't off to deal with their negativity and personal issues with your support and love, but let them have space and time to heal.

All of this takes incredible bravery and strength, but you will find, once you try it, that strength grows with every positive action you take for yourself.

Thank you for your amazing support and generous hearts!


Love--
Beauty

Paleo--In the Beginning...

Well, I made it through the first day. I tossed out everything in my refrigerator, and because I can't stand to throw away good food, I have given anything I don't choose to eat to someone who will enjoy it. It was strange to see huge bags of trash coming out of my fridge, but maybe it's symbolic--this process is one of cleansing. Eating clean, starting over--and in a sense, resetting my body. A reboot of sorts. If you are reading The Beauty and the Blog for the first time--welcome! Please check back often to see my updates about the 90-Day-Challenge. Also, please join my on Twitter (BeautyNBlog)  or TEAM GRACE on Facebook, and feel free to follow this blog too for instant updates when I post.


Yesterday I did a lot of research for Paleo sites online and they really run the gamut--from people who are trying to improve their health, or dealing with their children's auto-immune diseases, or dealing with their own ill health or diabetes, or like me, trying to get healthy which also requires a large weight loss.


Paleo, in short, is eating like a cave person. The theory is the more natural the better. So, if you see a huge list of ingredients that you don't recognize, don't eat it. If you can imagine yourself dressed like someone from the Flintstones gathering this food, or spearing it if you are more like Bam Bam, then, that is Paleo.  A no brainer is looking at it like this:


Eat:
Vegetables
Fruits
Lean meats
Fish
Good oils (Olive, coconut, avocados)
Nuts and seeds
Don't eat sugar, dairy, gluten


I will include resources for you to read more every day, both here and on TEAM GRACE.


So, Day One Menu highlights included:
Lunch
An organic salsa and avocado omelet, served with baby carrots.
Snack
Dried banana slices from Trader Joes. Amazingly sweet, tasted like candy and low calorie.
Dinner
Grass Fed Beef with sautéed organic mushrooms
Organic spinach salad with tomatoes and avocado, olive oil, fresh garlic, and balsamic vinegar dressing
Cantaloupe and berries

Day Two Menu highlights:
Breakfast
A premeasured 170 calorie serving of raw almonds
1 cup coffee (yes, I am still using coffee, and may for the whole time, but I am thinking about this. I am a coffee addict and cutting down is a process!)
Lunch (Really more like brunch today.)
Organic spinach, grass fed beef and egg scramble
Fruit
Dinner
Swai
Sweet potato
Zucchini
a very small piece of 85% dark chocolate (people on Paleo generally allow this, and heck, it's Valentine's Day!


Water is vital. I am also almost immediately noticing that everything is tasting more intense. I feel like I am getting food and I am not terribly hungry. One nice thing is you can really have as much as you want on Paleo, the only thing you truly need to limit are nuts and seed and oils--while they should definitely still be enjoyed in moderation.


Check back later for my emotional check in--Getting Support.


PS Check out these sites for information on Paleo: http://www.paleoforlife.org/html/intro and http://www.nerdfitness.com/blog/2010/10/04/the-beginners-guide-to-the-paleo-diet/


Love-
Beauty

The A$$ is Half Empty

These could be hearts, turn the computer over...
 

Kim Kardashian take a seat. Hell, you already have one! For some reason as I start this blog post today, I am full of stupid plays on words and even lamer one-liners about reality TV stars and the size of people's a$$es--but I promise there's a point. And the point is this:

I am starting my own hardcore weight loss program in a very, very ambitious way. I have joined my gym's 90-day challenge and I intend to lose 50 pounds during this process. (Or come as close as I can, working as hard as I can.) I will be working with a trainer and eating a method of clean that is known as "Paleo"--(read: Cavegirl).

Why?

Well, a couple of years ago I lost about 75 pounds. I have managed to keep most of it off even though I struggle to re-lose the last ten pounds of this about three times a year. I have managed to improve my fitness to a level where my blood pressure is holding (with meds) I can do 30 minutes on an elliptical about 3 or 4 times a week with no stress and I wear normal size clothes--although I am at the top of the heap in normal sizes, I am not in fat lady store land. So that is awesome, right? Sure it is, but (and the big but is) I am still overweight. I am still on blood pressure meds. I am still having migraines. In short, I am half way done. What seemed like amazing progress three years ago has now become the far thinner version of the fat me.

So, what to do? My gym (Lifetime Fitness) has a 90-day-challenge a few times a year. I tried this once before and didn't stick for various reasons, most of them not really good enough, and that was the best I could do at the time. But now, because I see myself needing just as many years on the clock as I can manage to pursue my revitalized career writing for the musical theatre, I don't see myself in any kind of "wind down" phase. In fact, I see myself ramping up. However, unlike Sheldon Cooper in my favorite episode of BBT, I don't have a Virtual Presence Device to take me around town while I hide in my my cozy bed protecting myself from the dangers of living in the world.

I just need to be healthier. I don't know about your family tree, but in mine we have heart attack and stroke and some cancer thrown in just in case that wasn't fun enough. I am not a child (yes, I know I am ageless), and I need to take control of my fitness and health now if I want to be the Betty White of the theatre when I am in my 90s.

So, here's my plea:

I need support. I want community. I would love it if everyone would join me on the quest and spend 90 days eating right and working out and doing whatever necessary to meet their own personal goals, but I understand not everyone is ready, able, willing or even needs to do that. I do. So what I ask of you is your virtual support.

So join me here, on FaceBook (Team Grace), on Twitter (BeautyNBlog), and heck if social media isn't your bag, baby, join me mentally. I can use support, I will be working my "a$$" off (apologies Kim K.) and I will report here. Maybe every day, certainly every week.

I have a friend who told me I am a very sensitive person. Well, perhaps. But I am as sensitive to good news and positive attitude and high energy as I am to anything else. I intend to start a fire. I intend to light my own candle. I intend to rock this. Who wants to come along? I have a party bus with many large, comfortable seats (sorry again, Kim). So get your yoga pants on and let your freak flag fly. We leave on February 10th.


Love--

Wilma Flintstone
(Yeah, it's me, Beauty) ;)

Being an Empath

Never let it be said that I am not a highly sensitive person. In fact, let it be said that I am. I am very sensitive. When I was a young adult and my mother still graced the earth, she informed  me that I was an "empath." If you have not heard that expression being bandied about as a thing you can be, it's simple: It is a person who is hardcore empathetic. If you are an empath, I probably just got your attention by mentioning the word. We are highly misunderstood, especially by our loved ones and sometimes even ourselves.

As a child I remember the exact moment in time that I learned empathy. And I believe that empathy isn't instinct but taught--nurture versus nature. The two next-door-neighbor boys had invented a rather suspect game. This game involved taking the tiny little golden brown moths that were flying happily around the flower beds and catching them, and then putting then through a series of "experiments." (These boys are probably testing pharmaceuticals on beagles today.) Anyway, I didn't understand that our game, which involved burying the little moths in the sand, digging them up, pulling various body parts off the moths, etc., etc., would harm them. I was simply too young and too inexperienced and too far under the age of reason to understand the ramifications of our actions.


My mother got wind of this little experiment and walked out into the front yard and took me aside.


"Teeny, (my childhood nickname) do you know you are HURTING the moths when you do that?
"I am?"
"Yes it hurts them. They cry when they can't breathe and when you damage their wings. They will probably even die. You will kill them. Some of them are dead already, honey."
Oh my God.
Seriously.


It is half a million years later, a lifetime later, and to write about it in this moment still upsets me. I can see my mother's sad face and her deep lovely eyes. I can feel her concern and her lack of anger toward me as she lovingly told me I had done something very wrong, even bad. She didn't yell, she wasn't sarcastic or mean, she didn't pull me away or scold. She simply and sadly and kindly told me the truth.

I could have been knocked over with a feather in that moment and then a millisecond after, I wanted to die. I couldn't believe the feeling that passed over me. I had willingly, willfully, and intentionally killed a helpless little creature.

Now, mind you, I didn't know that I was doing harm until that very moment and in that moment of intellectual and spiritual recognition my entire world changed. Forever. That teachable moment, that precious second in time and the loving and serious way that this lovely woman delivered her message made me not only get it like no other message has ever gotten through to me before, or maybe even after, but also, it changed me. I was altered forever in that moment.

The next time someone you know is considering putting their child in day care early or is getting flack from their loved ones about their insistence in spending as much time as possible with their preschool child instead of getting back to work, imagine what would have happened to me if my mother had not been there that day. Eventually, based on many factors, like for instance the fact that this woman was, indeed, my mother, I would have been able to discern right from wrong. More or less I would have grown up to be pretty much as I am, but isn't it true as we all look back at our lives we can often pinpoint those instants in which we are altered? There are so many considerations with this: How, we as parents and grandparents and teachers and even bystanders have so much responsibility toward each other, especially toward children. The value of kindness. The importance of empathy and compassion. The list goes on and on. Suffice to say, I remain eternally grateful that the person delivering the message was also the one I got lucky enough to win in the "mom lottery."

Flash forward.


I sit here in my office tonight and I think of many things. Of empathy and the sometimes incredible burden of being too empathetic. But what is too empathetic? I think of Jesus as the ultimate empath. I don't suppose he sat around bemoaning that he just cared too damn much about living creatures and it was getting him down. No. I think he was wise enough to see it as both a gift and a responsibility. I think that my mother (who was herself an incredibly spiritual person) not only taught me about empathy that day but also embodied empathy herself. She taught me that I had hurt a living creature while, in her moment of doing so, she had profound empathy for me. She felt my pain. She held me while I cried about it. She forgave me. And she helped me to forgive myself. She used to tell me that guilt wasn't necessarily a bad feeling. Guilt was an indication that you needed to change how you were acting. She also told me that pain and sadness were as much a part of life as joy--and that without one we could not fully appreciate the other.

We have a chance in every moment we exist on this planet to better it in some small way. We impact whatever and whomever we touch. We are mistaken if we say we are powerless. Indeed, the power to impact our world is with us at every second. We are magnificently powerful creatures-- creatures with minds and souls. We are given the ability to reason and to feel and with that comes the incredible responsibility to recognize that we as humans with souls are vessels.  Each day we have a choice about how we fill the vessel. Will we fill ourselves with light? Will we through intention, avoidance, or even just plain denial, allow darkness in? Will we pay attention enough to know we have a choice and that everyone--everyone breathing and thinking--can and must move through the world with intention. And when we forget, we must remind ourselves.

Being alive is a miracle. Humanity is not a static condition. We are constantly able to improve what it means to have humanity. That is greatness. Greatness is just goodness with an audience, really. And while you don't have to be great and no one may ever know how you strike out against the forces of evil in your own small way in each and every moment, it will always matter.

Just like it mattered to Teeny and the Moth.

When Things Change

Sometimes life is so good and so beautiful and so lovely that you want to clutch at it, wrap it up in a giant bear hug and never let it go. Sometimes you can stop for a moment and look around you and think, "God, I am so blessed because of (whatever it is, or whoever it is)--I am so lucky!" And then it changes.

Situations change. Tragedy strikes or, more often than not, the changes that occur seep into your life and you begin to see with increasing awareness that things that seemed to work so well have altered. Time has marched on, and while you wanted things to freeze-frame and stay perfectly in place, time has soldiered on. Time takes no prisoners, people change. Circumstances change. Everything is fluid. Things are always getting better or worse. There is no static moment in time--except in a picture that you post to Facebook or Instagram that you look at the next day and, by then, it's already ancient history.

That's why if you have a loved one or a partner or a person in your life who you enjoy completely and share an amazing bond with you should capture the moment with your feelings and your mind and your heart and your soul more readily than a camera. Because while it is nice to look at it on the Facebook scroll, it isn't the same as living it. While you are trying to get that perfect group photo you could be looking into someone's eyes--having a moment of recognition. You can love someone forever, but even with a love that lasts eternity you can be sure that one day, somehow, some way you will look into that shining face for the last time. You will have your last moment of recognition. Your last hug, your last kiss, your last shared raised eyebrow commiserating over something that is shared.

And we hunger for those shared moments. We eat them like candy, the best candy, but like all candy the box eventually empties. Doors close, days end. Experiences conclude. How do we deal with this? How do we avoid a perpetual state of regret?

Maybe we have to let go of our expectations of how it should be with everything and everyone we know. Maybe the job won't always be the same, the friends will come and go as people move and interests change. The milestones will serve to both unite and separate us. Maybe we need to face life with the knowledge that everything is fluid. This is brilliant for a horrible time--we can say, yes, it's just now and one day another good time will come, but it is less lovely for that moment that you feel the bliss. But bliss is a funny thing. It's a soap bubble of experience. You can see it and feel it and sense it, you can even hold it for just a millisecond, if you are careful and gentle and so very light with your touch. But it is just an instant. An instant. And then we must move on. We must leave the pain or the joy of each and every moment and move to the next one. Most days we leave one not-so- special moment and move to the not-so-special next moment--but it doesn't have to be that way. We can take the hand of our friend, our partner, or our child. We can look into people's eyes. We can be in the moment. We can be in this moment and then we can kiss it lovingly good bye. Send that last self, that self of a moment ago, off with the last selves of those we love, to play in the past.

What seems like it could be filled with overwhelming regret doesn't have to be that. Every new moment is absolutely fraught with possibility. We can have lots and lots of do-overs. Moment by moment, and all it takes is awareness. All it takes is a willingness to be aware, be present, and yes, not grab on too tight. Just loosen your grip. Let it be.

And maybe if we get outside ourselves on some level and think less about how it feels for us and what we are loosing and gaining in each and every moment and a little more about how everyone around us is thinking and feeling, maybe we will open ourselves to amazing new experiences. It doesn't mean you can fix things for other people--even though sometimes you can--it just means you can understand more, even if all you can do is understand and let them know.

When I was a little girl I remember a game that we played where we would lie, tummies down, on the grass and look at the little world we saw there. Tiny leaves and rocks and bugs--an ant making his way somewhere important. In an instant we changed the focus of our worlds and suddenly saw things from a new perspective. We are always free to do that, if it means focusing on someone else or something else for a moment or just changing focus. Looking at a book shelf in your house you have seen a million times without really seeing it. Remembering why those books and other objects are there. There are worlds of meaning in the smallest places and the smallest interactions between people. It's interesting to think about how you can change your perspective, pull away from a moment that doesn't please you just by shifting focus--in an instant.

But wherever you choose to focus your life, moment by moment, each moment passes and if we can embrace it more fully if we learn the grace of letting go of people and things to which we cling. If we can embrace the people in our lives without really holding on we will see more moments of bliss and more peace about each moment--whether it is good or bad.

I had a yoga teacher once who used to say, "Let go." She seemed to say it over and over and over again. In her class her gentle words would flow over me like a blanket of peace. She changed my life and I think, for me, it is important to remember those two words. And here are some more words that my heart is repeating that I want to share with you: Embrace and let go. Love and move forward. Live your life and look around you. Be and let it be.

Let it Be--The Beatles--all rights reserved

Namaste--

Beauty

It's not you, it's me

A woman I love dearly has been having a hard time. A man whom she thought she loved has unceremoniously and in fact, meanly, dumped her. And by dumped I mean the ugly, cruel, horrible way. This man said things to her to intentionally undermine her self concept, her femininity, her attractiveness and her self-esteem. He just went after her, balls to the wall, attacked her for no reason other than a personal outpouring of his own exit-strategy hostility.

Well first of all, this was completely classless and lacked any compassion and kindness and anything I could call "having a soul." It was an extreme example of the universe showing someone to be a complete asshole. The thing I have to wonder is, why? Why do people do things like this? Why are people so fooled about each other, and if they aren't fooled and there really was some context of love and good feeling there, why does a break up give anyone this sense of free reign to attack? The whole thing was like watching this woman slam into a brick wall of pain--except she didn't do it to herself, she just trusted someone who brutalized her. It was horrible to watch and we have all been there--I certainly have.

As humans we get terribly attached to each other. In love relationships we allow our partner to define us in some way. We let them into the most intimate parts of our being. We reveal ourselves on every level, and we put it all out there for them to (hopefully) love. In the case of doing this with someone compassionate and kind, even an ending has the potential for dignity and love and basic decency. But when someone misjudges their partner as being kind and then comes to find too late in the day that they were simply being "nice" while they were involved in the chase, the potential for disaster seems imminent and horrifying.

Watching my girlfriend go through this, I remembered the times this has happened to me. It is impossible for people involved in romantic love relationships to not have a yin and yang sort of give and take whereby they impact each other. Women especially create some level of their physical and sexual and feminine selves for and based on the reaction of the men they love. Women try to look good for the men they love. Men do this too. Everyone wants to be wanted by the person they adore--and wanted in every way. Victoria's Secret makes a billion dollar industry out of this need to be not only loved but physically adored by one's romantic partner.

So, as I sat and listened to my friend tell me of the hostility and brutality of her recent breakup, I offered to her that he didn't have control over her self concept and that her beauty was not defined by him. This is one hundred percent true, except it isn't. People in love, people who are in love and intimate are in a complicated give and take where they both affirm and embrace each other, where they adore and are adored, where they allow their partner to have an impact on their emotions--and thus, they give that person an intense power. The power to "complete" them and the power to wound them too. Is it wrong? No. Can it be incredibly destructive? Oh, yes.

I have been thinking about this a lot since we met for coffee the other day. I have been thinking about how it kills me to see my dear friend in so much pain and that all my platitudes (while true) about self-concept and personal power are not the whole picture. We give that special someone power over us. Power when they are given the key and let inside the Secret Garden. There is always a chance that the person whom we give a key uses their power unwisely. And that is when we must as individuals take back our power.

But that doesn't mean that there isn't that one special person who will never misuse their power (and it doesn't mean that lovers can't wound each other and recover and continue to love, perhaps even more deeply). But when people say they are looking for that "one true love" I believe they are saying they are looking someone they can trust completely inside their soul. There isn't a woman on the planet who isn't moved by the Carly Simon song lyric: "Hold me in your hands like a bunch of flowers." There isn't a woman on the planet who doesn't truly hope that this is the way she feels when she finally opens her soul to another being.

Whether a love relationship or not, we all have to be careful who we let in. The emotional lines between two individuals in relationship are always drawn in pencil.

I hope with all my heart that my friend will be alright. I have seen depression and I know it is nothing to mess with, and that a good friend can't assume their dear friends are okay, no matter what. That assumption is fraught with risk. People who care for each other need to be aware of each other's emotional health and safety. We need to watch our friends to make sure they are okay, we need to be aware of the pain of our loved ones. We must never assume people survive their break ups and flourish without loving hands and hearts helping them up.

Certainly to this man I would say he has done something truly evil. Sure, most people pass it off as an angry break up, but at what point are people responsible for how they hurt those who love them, or how they hurt anyone at all? I believe at every point. Compassion and kindness are part of everything to be valued in human interaction--beginnings, the long and sometimes troubled road of day-to-day existence and yes, even endings. We must always take care of each other. No matter what.

 

The Right Thing to Do- c. Carly Simon--all rights reserved

To my friend I wish an understanding of her own preciousness. I wish that for us all.