Suzanne Falter's Blog, page 4

Why You Should Dare To Be Heard

In 1994, in an attempt to start a newsletter for creative side hustlers, I accidentally wrote a book called How Much Joy Can You Stand? It took all of three weeks to write it down, and it poured through me in an unprecedented rush. I’m moved to share it with you… as a big piece of self-care IS finding your right work. That special thing you do that brings you great joy… This is an essay from How Much Joy Can You Stand?

 

So, you want to be a venture capitalist, write a screenplay, or open a Victorian tea garden like the one you visited once in London and never forgot. So, you want to do anything slightly risky that demands a personal vision.

You? … You?  says the voice, as it collapses on the floor in gales of laughter.

Who do you think you are, anyway?

For many of us, this is where the conversation about pursuing our dream begins and ends. Because, let’s admit it — we’re sensible people. We’re not the sort who takes huge, wild risks. We’re not the slightest bit visionary. We don’t have a lot of high-minded thoughts that keep us awake at night, and God knows we don’t know the first thing those other, more successful people must have known before they set off to realize their dream. We’re just … us. Basic. Flawed. Certainly nothing special. 

Actually, when you get right down to it, we think we don’t really even deserve to have a dream.

Still, we do have this annoying idea that keeps surfacing and resurfacing, begging to be explored, teased out, played with, and realized. We keep having these oddly ambitious stirrings we don’t completely understand. So we do what we have always done: we ignore them. 

After all, we’re just not the kind of people who go off half-cocked after some so-called dream. Right?

The truth is that people with creative impulses need to create, no matter how “uncreative,” sensible, logical and otherwise non-impulsive they consider themselves.

If we have a pressing idea, we also have an obligation to explore it – and possibly express it. And yet we almost never do. We subscribe to a weirdly common belief that no one wants to hear what we have to say.  No one wants to know about our great new idea, patronize a business we might start, attend our would-be productions, or give us any kind of a break. No one.  We feel as if the world were just waiting to flatten us with some great, universal sledgehammer.

This is the soft, dark underbelly of all dreams, the part that’s hovering in the shadows, hoping to derail you. And, this is the first and seediest demon you will have to confront on this path. The really annoying part is that the demon is you.

All that supposed rejection is nothing more than your own twisted imaginings. When examined in the cool, rational light of day by other, more benevolent people, your own contribution usually merits a much greater response than you could ever imagine.

I will never forget the first time I performed my cabaret act — a two-woman show in which my partner and I wrote and sang all our own music. For months and months we’d worked on the act, composing, harmonizing, writing lyrics, choreographing moves, all the while convinced that what we were doing was good but strange.

At least I believed no one in their right mind was actually going to like this stuff, though we might get some polite applause. In fact, we only kept going because we were having fun. 

Then, our opening night rolled around. As we stood on the stage singing our first number, a curious thing happened. People began to smile. They nodded, and sat up a little straighter as if they were actually listening, and then a miracle occurred … they laughed. All of them. Loudly, even.

The audience got the first joke in the lyrics, then another, and another. They laughed in places I hadn’t even anticipated. Like some fantastic flying machine lumbering into that sacred moment of lift-off, the act was working. And just then I fully understood the impact of what my partner and I had created and it shocked me. 

I was someone worth listening to. People actually wanted to hear what I had to say.

The common disposition among us is a painful sort of shyness. People get embarrassed when called forth to be themself for even a millisecond in front of others. The core belief is that since nothing I say matters to anyone, and so I will end up looking like a dork. This is the precise feeling that keeps people from feeding their dreams.

Oddly enough, that snickering voice of doubt never really goes away. Years go by and you get somewhat used to it, as you learn to test the waters more and more, and eventually the voice slides from an obnoxious bellow into more of a background drone.

Witness the famous acceptance speech Sally Fields made on winning her second Oscar: “I guess you really do like me, don’t you?” Observe the fact that Truman Capote was once quoted as saying he’d never written anything he thought was really  good. Not even “Breakfast At Tiffany’s.” Jane Austen wrote of her work, “I think I may boast to myself to be with all possible vanity, the most unlearned and uninformed female who ever dared to be an authoress.”

The point is this: no matter what you take on, insecurity is part of the job description.

It’s not possible to blaze new trails and forge your own path while remaining on familiar ground. If you want to start a business, you will take on financial risk. If you want to move to another part of the country, you must plunge yourself and whomever is attached to you into the unknown. If you want to try any endeavor you care about, you’re going to have to kick it out of that cozy little nook it has carved in your soul. And you’re going to have to stand there and watch your dream as it takes its first baby steps towards fulfillment. 

This is not an experience for people who crave comfort. Writer Raymond Carver likened publishing his stories to riding at night in the back seat of a driverless car with no lights on. 

And yet, such vulnerability can be a valuable part of the creative process. An acting teacher I once knew insisted that serious doubt is actually a very good sign, a signal that you’re being completely honest and vulnerable in your work. Mark Twain said of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, “I like it only tolerably well… and may possibly pigeonhole it [hide it in my desk], or burn the manuscript when it is done.”

As for me, I only know that I got through the first novel I published by convincing myself no one would ever read it. I was sure that this was yet another little piece of my own personal weirdness that no one would ever have to sit through. And yet, a major publisher actually published it. And people read it.

Daring to be heard, then, is simple. It’s recognizing your cascades of self-doubt for what they are: a whole lot of hot air you’ve cooked up for absolutely no good reason at all. Then, it’s mustering up the courage to trust yourself for five minutes anyway, because maybe you really do have something important to say. And ultimately, it’s about saying, “What the hell.”

Daring to be heard means recognizing that if you put your voice out there, all you’re going to get back is a yes or a no. The days of public stoning are long over; so is being pilloried. In fact, a large part of the world won’t even be paying attention, no matter how loudly you scream.

Daring to be heard, ultimately, is something great you do for yourself. It’s like giving your poor, withered soul some fresh air and sunshine. Daring to be heard means stretching out languorously in the luxury of a strong opinion, or basking in the joy of planning an endeavor you’ve always wanted to start.

No matter what your medium, the dream is yours and yours alone to realize in your own particular way. With the dream comes the chance to represent yourself to the world in a way that truly matters. Daring to be seen and heard becomes your chance for perfect freedom.

It becomes your chance to fly.

From How Much Joy Can You Stand, by Suzanne Falter ©2014 www.suzannefalter.com  

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Teal’s Sunset Therapy…and Why We All Need It

Later this year, I’ll be publishing a memoir about the healing and miracles I experienced after my daughter Teal’s death in 2012. It’s called Free Spirited, in honor of the two words always used to describe Teal in her lifetime. For it was her free-spirited, free flowing love and joy that struck those who met her. And they were the very qualities that I needed to learn.

Teal loved sunsets–in fact, this is one she photographed from her neighborhood in San Francisco’s Sunset district. It strikes me now that her advice about taking the time to watch the sun set is something that could benefit us all now, as the world spins ever wilder, faster, harsher. Here’s a brief excerpt from Free Spirited.  

One night a few months before her death, my daughter took me aside.

At that moment I was packing up my apartment to move, and had little interest in any of her good suggestions. Still Teal prevailed, just as she usually did.

 “Take a minute and watch the sunset tonight, Mom,” she suggested. “It’s so incredible from these windows.”

My apartment at the time had a sweeping view of the western half of San Francisco, over which the great Pacific sunsets rose like a majestic queen. I was full of hubris then and thought my time was much too valuable to spend on a sunset. 

“Honey, I’m just so busy –” I protested.

Teal gave me a disapproving look. “Mom. Have you ever watched a sunset in the year and a half that you’ve lived here?”

I was silent.

“Just as I thought,” said Teal, shaking her head. “Come on, Mom. Just do it. And watch the whole thing, right up until dark. No sneaking away.” 

She started to go out the door. Then she stopped and turned around. 

“Call me when you’ve done it,” she added. “I’ll be waiting.” 

The door closed with a click.

I sighed. Unpacked boxes were scattered on the floor around me. Watching the sunset was about the last thing I wanted to do. Still, something that night made me stop and listen to my daughter. 

I quieted my usual frenetic self, sat down and waited. After a few moments, the sunset began.

A subtle shell pink spread out from the horizon as the molten lump of the sun slipped away.

I relaxed. I felt myself soften and let go. So much had weighed on my mind lately, impossible things like whether I should be moving in with the woman I called my partner then. I knew it would be a fiasco, but still I kept on plodding steadily forward, ignoring the many red flags waving wildly all around me. 

The sunset spread throughout the entire sky, deepening pink, radiating peach, then blue, purple, even streaks of green. Every color of the rainbow passed before my eyes in this massive lightshow at the edge of the city. But I couldn’t truly feel the beauty of the sunset. 

Not yet.

At that moment, my life was a mess. The successful spiritual marketing business I’d come to San Francisco to build was suddenly ending. What stood in its place was something far less reliable and even downright sketchy. I called it ‘The Spiritual Diet’ and I honestly had no idea what it was. 

I just knew, from all my years as a marketer that this brand would sell. And I knew I was charismatic enough and supposedly spiritual enough in the front of the room to sell it. 

Yet outside these windows was the true expansion, the purest wonder of God. Outside these windows was the spirituality before which we are dwarfed. As Teal so rightly suggested. 

Outside these windows was my salvation, but it would take the worst crisis of my life for me to understand this. 

I would have to fall apart completely and thus be completely reborn.  

I sat on the couch as the sunset spread just beyond my reach. The buildings of the Castro and the Haight grew peach, then pink, then rose, their windows iridescent glimmers in the sunglow.

A small part of me was still awake enough to see what Teal was showing me—that I had become lost in a cloud of delusion. I sighed and closed my eyes and tried not to feel the pounding of my own heart. 

What in God’s name had I done to my life? 

The sunset continued, consuming the sky in its own sweet time. I eyed the boxes all around me, empty and waiting. Dully I regarded the sky one more time; I really couldn’t watch a sunset. 

Not now. 

I got up and mechanically began to fill boxes. I had to stay busy. Keeping my head down, I glanced over once more at the sunset. The deepening red sky now filled the corners of the windows in a triumphant climax. A blanket of lavender-grey fog had begun to roll in around Twin Peaks.

Tears sprang into my eyes as I kept on packing. I couldn’t let my heart catch up with me; I just couldn’t. There was far too much to lose to tell the truth in this particular moment.  If these last, pathetic vestiges of love and respect—the empty framework I called my life—slipped away, then I would be lost and utterly alone. 

Alone, that is, except for Teal. 

Pack, I thought. Just pack. Head down I continued, as tears poured down my face.

The phone rang a moment later. It was Teal. “So?” she asked. “Did you watch it?”

“Magnificent,” I said, trying to sound as normal as possible. No one could know that I was falling apart. Not even my daughter. “Thank you, honey,” I heard myself say. “Thanks for making me do that.”

“You’re welcome, Mom,” she said lightly. “Love you.”

But of course, Teal knew I was falling apart, and that I needed to. She knew far more for her 22 years than most people learned in entire lifetimes. This light-filled being, whose deepest love was her love for others, would soon be returned to dust. And I would become humble again in ways I couldn’t currently imagine. 

Teal was my healer though at the time I was too blind to see it. First she would have to die. Then I would, as well. So we would both be reborn in completely different ways.

The path to the true magnificence had already begun.

********

Stay tuned for more about the launch of Free Spirited in paperback, ebook and audiobook right here.

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Yes, You Really Do Need That Vacation—Here’s Why

Here’s a fact that will send a chill down your spine.

Prior to the pandemic, more than 54% of Americans were not likely to use all of their vacation days. That is more than half of all workers … nearly 80 million people. Now, as we emerge from the pandemic, that number could be even higher.

And yet … what’s also true is that taking regular vacation time is critical for your health.  Here’s another scary fact.

Researchers at Oxford report that women who only take one vacation every six years are eight times more likely to develop heart disease than those who take two vacations every year.

The truth is that your body and your mind both need at least one good vacation per year. You return refreshed, relaxed and ready to dig in again. And that sense of well-being is not just an illusion. A CNN study finds that vacations can improve your work productivity by nearly 80%. 

Furthermore, a Vienna study found that workers returned from vacations with fewer stress-related complaints like back aches and headaches. And they still felt better five weeks later. 

Roger Dow, President of the U.S. Travel Association notes that ‘People who take more time off tend to get more promotions.” Still the anti-vacation bias lingers on. 

Roughly 70% of American millennials—the same generation who’ve had to beg and scramble for their jobs—are afraid to take time off. When they do, nearly 70% feel ‘vacation shamed’ by colleagues and bosses.  

According to Forbes Magazine, vacation shaming is when co-workers and bosses discourage worker vacations with guilt trips and peer pressure. In other words, it’s now deemed uncool to take a vacation. Of, it means you’re simply not dedicated.

Even though, ironically, such time off can seriously improve your work output.

Perhaps the issue is that collectively, as a culture, we continue to believe that we’ll never get it all done. So we slog on at work, with no end in sight. And yes–the pattern of dysfunction at the workplace has never been more apparent as recent government stats show the highest number of people leaving their job. January 2022 was the fourth straight month more than 4 million people left their jobs.

Could it be because they just needed a vacation? Or a work culture that supports taking them?

In Europe, by contrast, extended vacations that last for weeks or months are common. In Norway, vacation takes the form of a public holiday called fellesferrie. Every July for two to four weeks, companies simply close or run on summer hours. 

In France, this is a law across all industries. All workers get a guaranteed five-week vacation period every year. Employees at Le Figaro, the national newspaper, get eight weeks of paid vacation. In addition, if they work more than a very reasonable 35 hours per week … they get even more time off. 

This explains why so much of Paris closes down in July and August.

And yet, it doesn’t even take weeks or months to get a good rest. Researchers have found the ideal vacation length is actually eight days. That’s when a good vacation peaks and crests. After that, you may even begin to get itchy to get back to work, which is always a good sign.

With a little strategic planning around holidays and such, you can even turn fourteen paid vacation days into three week long vacations per year. 

For those who still aren’t convinced, consider this. You can get nearly as much benefit from a three-day getaway as you can from a week’s vacation, according to psychotherapist and author Jonathan Alpert. 

That’s just one three-day getaway. 

Come on people. You can do this. For your own sake.

Where will you take your next vacation?

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Five Steps to Get the Help You Truly Need

Recently in my Facebook Group, I asked what I thought was a simple question: Are you getting the help you need? Who would you ask?

Turns out a LOT of women need a lot of help! Within 1 hour 1500 women had seen this question, and dozens had replied. And nearly every one said the same thing—no, they don’t get any help. Furthermore, they told me, there’s no point in asking.

If they did ask, they’d just get a big fat NO.

The response that there wasn’t enough help and there never would be took me aback. So I put together a little cheat sheet on how to ask for help and actually get it. Because when you ask for help and get it, an entire world of possibilities opens up.

For one thing, you finally have enough time for self-care. So to that end, here are steps to lead you towards getting the help you need, in this case, around the house. Yet, with a few slight modifications, these steps can be applied in any situation.

1. First, change your thinking about getting help. Many of us truly believe we simply can’t change the way things are. We think we can’t ask others for help—that as one commenter put it, ‘there’s too much drama around asking for help.’ We simply believe it isn’t possible.

And as long as we believe that… it’s not.

2. Stop thinking others should ‘know’ they need to help. Some of us believe others should read our minds and simply ‘know’ we need help. Truth: No one can read a mind. And no one may realize you need help unless you ask for it. And some of our family members walk around in happy denial that help is needed.
This is when making a well-placed request is a good idea. See [INSERT #]

3. Get clear on exactly what help you need. Knowing what you need can be tough– especially if we’re overwhelmed. Then the entire mess of demands smushes together into  a big, ominous blob you can’t begin to take down. Break it down, area by area. Do you need help at work? At home? With your physical health? Your mental health? Do you
If you’re not sure how to do this, create some quiet time. (Even that might be a challenge… but do this. It will help.) Then journal on or ponder this question: What’s bothering me?
As you get clear on where different needs are, write them down. Then start to think about 

4. Make specific, measurable requests. If you want help doing the dishes, ask for it from specific family members. Don’t rant. Don’t be intense or rude, and don’t be a victim. Just say what you need, coolly and calmly. “Honey, please do the dishes tonight.” Don’t fall into the trap of hysterically demanding general non-specific help. As in ‘No one lifts a finger to help me in this damn house!’. 

That’s our mother’s model, and it doesn’t work. (Remember how you used to tune out Ranting Crazy Mom if this rings a bell?)

5. Politely stick to your boundary. When hubby insists he has to rush out at that exact moment, let him know with a smile the dishes will still be here when gets back. Then go about your business, and go find a little time for self-care, R&R, or whatever pleases you.

Do not get hooked by the thought that he ‘should’ have done them by now Or that he’s not doing them carefully enough. And above all, don’t bug the man. Let him be a grown up and remember what your request was. Politeness and consistency are what makes this work.

Stick to your limit, no matter how uncomfortable it gets. Remember, you’re going for lasting change here which requires warrior mindset. Even if it means the dishes don’t get done the next day either, or even that they pile up all week. At this point, feel free to speak to hubby a second time and let him know you won’t be doing any more dishes for the foreseeable future. 

You can explain that you have other things to do and you’d like him to help out. But don’t get caught in justifying your actions. You shouldn’t have to. And no ranting. No drama. Just… smile.

He’ll begin to understand at this point that some new rules are in play. If you have to pull out the paper plates, go right ahead. (This is when you might begin to rethink whether you should be doing the cooking. Perhaps someone else should?)

Keep on your boundary—do not cave in. No matter what. Consistency is critical.

Until we set a limit and say ‘no more’… and make a specific request about what we need… nothing actually will change. So what happens when no dishes are available? People who never washed a dish suddenly, miraculously start doing them.

It’s not always easy to ask for help. But it’s worth it. You just have to be patient and let the process unfold.

6. Use your leverage. In the case, say, of teens who need rides places or the use of the car, this can be a very useful tool in request enforcement. Why should Child get use of valuable family car when they can’t lift a finger to help around the house?

Or for Hubs…What would Hubby love that can be provided when you know he’s game to help out more around the house? I’m sure you’ll think of something…

We don’t want to be punitive, shrill or a heavy with this. We simply want to be firm and polite. And ultimately rewarding. It is possible to set boundaries with a smile.

7. Know this is your right. No one ever said we have to do it all. Really. This is simply the June Cleaver mindset we inherited from our mothers… and now we get to change that script. It will take some work, friend, and perhaps some discomfort, but look how much pain you may already be in.

I invite you to rethink the current dynamic and make a change if needed. You are beautiful, whole, and deserving of deep love and care. May this help you create lots of true support.

(For more ideas on this issue, please see my book, The Extremely Busy Woman’s Guide to Self-Care.)

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Is This the Beginning of The Great Turning?

There is a saying that when one person suffers, all people suffer. I always thought this was an obscure thought. It was a little hard to believe or even wrap my head around. Weren’t we all raised to believe in our sovereign independence and freedom? (What do you mean that I’m going to suffer if just one other person suffers??)

Then Russia invaded Ukraine, and suddenly I get it.

Now I see this terrible, terrible humanitarian crisis which has rocked the entire world as nothing less than a global catalyst to freedom. If the sheer horror of witnessing this war in real time through our copious media channels doesn’t move us back to unity…then perhaps nothing will.

But to get there, first we’re all going to have to suffer for a while,. Some of us will suffer far more than others.

For the last decade or so, many have been patiently waiting for ‘The Great Turning’, as written about in Joanna Macy’s poem  and film of the same name. The Great Turning captures the idea that the entire world must make the shift together towards a more sustainable, unified world.

Yet psychics and mystics have been talking about this kind of change for decades. As early as the late 60’s, another phenomenon–The Age of Aquarius–was touted as our age of love, peace and understanding. This Age began on the vernal equinox in March of 2021.

The Age of Aquarius tells us this massive global shift will happen through ‘sympathy and understanding’, hope and innovation. So now, given how broken the world is, how do we actually get there?

By simply watching and feeling, my friend. Pay attention, for all the crumbs are on the path, leading us towards greater global understanding and far greater compassion. Massive social transition requires we are all collectively shaken, woken up to the point of complete alertness, usually by extreme stress. Think of 9-11 in the US. Or even the first months of the pandemic when it was unclear how we would all function or even survive.

In my own life, this happened when Teal died and I was suddenly brought up short to realize just how lost I had become. Then I realized the fundamental, dramatic power of crisis to reshape who were are completely. And so I believe, in the midst of this crisis we can all be reborn. Our world can become a far better place.

Now the smeary lens of life has been washed bright and clean, and we can honestly see reality for once. The invasion of Ukraine is throwing into sharp relief just how broken, how disturbed, how shockingly clear our society-wide dysfunction is. And it is giving us a choice.

Do we get involved with the world at large?

Do we dare to feel what is happening around us? Do we let ourselves be disturbed by the suffering of another person? Or do we just turn off the video and scroll on by, shaking our head?

It is only when we allow ourselves to truly feel what is going on in the world that we can affect any kind of change. Clear evidence has already shown this in the massive movement of support for Ukraine from the West, and many parts of the East. Such an outpouring has helped to bolster the already determined Ukrainians.

For who can avoid being moved by the phenomenon of just how bad this deluge is? Given that this is the first such ground war ever captured by smart phones and shared on the Internet, we are being forced to confront it literally moment by moment. There is no lag time, which goes a long way towards invalidating state-controlled  misinformation.

The sheer force of will the Ukrainian nation has shown is pushing us all to connect with our own hearts, and ultimately discover our own passion for life. We can’t give up, not now and not ever, on finding our way back to what Teal called ‘The Unified Field of Love’.

This is the place where we all belong—all of us, regardless of race, class, ethnicity, religion. It is a plane beyond physical reality, a place of sympathy and understanding. It is where we can find it in our hearts to help others, to actually stop of feel their pain for a while in this great social scramble called life. For yes, this inward experience of compassion definitely counts. And it is the catalyst, the springboard to help us step up and get involved.

For better or for worse we are all in this together, friend. And so we turn collectively, one day at a time.

The fate of the world is in our hands.

****

A place to get started:

The Washington Post’s article ‘How Americans Can Help Ukraine’ identifies viable charities that will help those on the ground in Ukraine.

 

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What I’ve Gotten from 36 Years of Yoga

Back in 1986, when the 2000 year old practice of yoga was but a glint in America’s eye, I discovered it and leapt in with gusto. I was 27 at the time.

I can safely say that yoga not only changed my life—it has given me a spiritual grounding, a solid foundation with which to live my life. With the exception of one pregnancy, and a few years after I moved to Oakland and couldn’t find a studio I liked, I’ve never stopped.

I’ve been practicing yoga at least once a week for the better part of 36 years.

In those first early years in downtown Manhattan, when you had to go to an Ashram on West 24th Street to do yoga, it was mysterious to me. The movements, asanas, felt so personal, so tranquil, so…right…that I was hooked for life, even though the first month I practiced yoga I had the usual aches and pains. After each class, me and my fellow students would gather in the Ashram kitchen downstairs for bowls of yellow lentils, rice and greens. It all felt so homey, and in direct contrast to the Yuppified go-go 80’s happening right outside the door.

Later that year, I found a willowy blonde English yogini named Radha at a yoga retreat in the Bahamas. Then suddenly—she appeared in New York, at a deli where I was ordering a sandwich. Radha led me to a practice happening “in this guy Larry’s apartment”.

It was in that townhouse living room I found not only my favorite yogini in the 80’s, but Larry, who became my husband the next 25 years with and with whom I had our children, Luke and Teal. We did a LOT of yoga together.

After we moved to a tiny town in upstate New York, our practice had morphed into a circle of 7 or 8 of us who met in the small parish hall each Monday night. By then Luke and Teal could make their own dinner in the church kitchen (Tasty Bite lentils and rice) while mom and dad did yoga in the next room.

All through falling in love, having children, the move to the country, and the learning of lessons, yoga was my anchor. It was my reliable act of self-care that would never change. And my body thanked me.

The back pain that plagued me before I found yoga left and never really returned. I found all forms of exercise were easier, freer. I felt lighter and I walked through my days with a grounded sense of greater calm.

In the last twelve years I’ve used yoga to get myself through my divorce and subsequent move across the country,  come out as a lesbian and navigate a first turbulent relationship, as well as the unexpected loss of my home and then Teal’s death.

By the time my daughter died I’d found the greatest yoga teacher of my life, my dear yogini and friend Kashi Ananda. I discovered her studio in the small town of Sebastopol, a place my spirit guides had relocated me to one week earlier. I began learning Kashi’s wonderful, slow-moving Tri-Yoga, created by the great Kali Ray, also known as Kaliji. Eventually we would even gather in the pre-dawn hours to meditate before practice.

Here was the flowing yoga I’d been looking for all my life, lovingly taught by a woman who surrendered herself to this practice many years ago. Kashi teaches every single class with a deep, simple grounding that is impeccable. It is this peaceful yoga energy that follows me through my day when I practice.

Now, at age 63, the yoga continues and the same is still true.

Not only am I pain and medication-free, I feel like I’m aligned. Like I’m really standing on my own two feet evenly. For a while, when I first moved to Oakland, I couldn’t find a studio I liked—I missed Kashi, now 90 minutes away. When arthritis threatened, I knew it was because I was slacking on my yoga.

Then COVID hit and suddenly Kashi was online. So I got busy again doing my practice and in no time my hands were pain-free and nimble once more, as was a creaky knee. I also used her yoga to help heal a stiff hip rafter I took a fall on the street, and generally help build my overall strength.

Now I can easily move through my life, walking up to 6 miles a day, swimming and running, all free from pain and stiffness. This is because yoga keeps me strong and limber. After I practice, I  even get cravings for healthy, green food—I start salivating for a green smoothie! Which helps me not lose myself in, say, too many brownies.

I had a pivotal experience one morning after yoga recently. I’d just done Kashi’s level one class on Zoom, and as I rose and walked out into the sunny, green paradise of our small backyard, I became lit with nothing less than joy.

I could feel the sun melting my resistance to all that is, and as I stood there, a hummingbird buzzed just above me. We looked at each other and then in an instant, it disappeared. I felt the peace of that moment so intimately, I knew I’d suddenly experienced bliss.

May you find yours as well.

Anyone, anywhere, can experience Kashi’s beautiful yoga whether you’re a beginner or a pro. Come join us!

 

 

 

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A Quick Guide to Getting Grounded

If you’re a human–and I assume that you are–sooner or later, your mooring will come undone and you will feel set adrift by life.

It’s that sudden shifting, out of control feeling that follows a shock, or a meltdown, or a catastrophe. Or even just a really bad day. And it feels empty–as if everything important in your life had suddenly been shaken loose.

This is when it’s useful to have tools in hand that can help you slip back to your usual secure spot within yourself. It can also be useful when you’re nervous, perhaps before a difficult conversation or a performance review or big presentation at work. 

May these ideas help you come back to you… which is a very sweet place to be! 

Lie down and put your hand on your tummy. Did you know your gut has a sort of ‘second brain’ that works with your central nervous system, and holds a good deal of your tension? Hence the term agita, which means both anxiety and heartburn or stomach upset.

When you relax and consciously go within, even for a few moments, you’ll soon tap into the source of your worry. (And yes, really lie down–that seems to make all the difference here.) Then you have a few choices for how to process that. (See below.)

Journal out your worries. This is an old trick from the cognitive behavior therapy toolbox. Sit down somewhere other than your bedroom, and write out what you’re worried about. Let your pen flow as your process this and that. You might even discover some new worries and process those as well It’s a way to ‘think out loud’ on paper and clean house, so your mind can get back to more reassuring inner conversation. Particularly useful when you’re full of performance anxiety.

This is great to do once you discover the source of your upset in #1 on this list.

Take a healing crystal bath. If you tend to relax in the bathtub, consider this. Make it a deeply healing bath by first dumping in a cup or two of Epsom salts. Then try adding some crystals, perhaps a little rose quartz or amethyst. Or even just a clear crystal. While some think of crystals as no more than pretty rocks, others find healing crystals to actually be pretty useful.

I like to place a few of my favorites on various chakra points, and breathe into them as I let the water unwind me. What I almost always find when I finally emerge is that the bath has supercharged my relaxation. I feel renewed, grounded, clear-minded, and ready for the next thing. (I did a YouTube video on this, by the way.)

Try some slow yoga. Some yoga requires us to be up, vigorous and sweaty. While others take a slower, more thoughtful approach. I refer specifically to Yin Yoga, Kripalu Yoga and my favorite, Tri-Yoga. These are slow flow movements designed to relax us and get us into our own special groove. And boy… does that work. My own yogini, Kashi Ananda, has lots of short videos available that can help you get in and ground efficiently if you need.

Hug a tree. I know, I know. This sounds a little crazy, but I promise you…just try it. It really works. My dear pal Debi (co-host of our former podcast, Back to Happy) swears by it. She heads out to the yard when she’s feeling off, and takes her shoes off. She walks around on the ground a bit, just to feel that beautiful earth energy. Then she throws her arms around the nearest tree and hugs.

I’ve tried this as well, and I have to admit. That old tree energy just emits a vibe that says ‘I’m not going anywhere’. And boy, is that reassuring! Try it!

Have a good cry. When nothing else works, it can be very helpful just to meltdown and have a long sob. Perhaps that is what you’ve been needing. Did you know that different kinds of tears have different chemical structures? Microscopic views of angry tears literally look different than tears cried from grief or joy. Which tells me the body knows just what she’s doing when she urges us to break down and cry.

A good cry could be just what your stressed out, frazzled soul has been crying out for.

Breathe….. I find classic 4-7-8 breathing really helps me take the stress down a few notches. You simply breathe in to the count of four, hold for seven, and then release in a whispered ‘whoosh’ breath with your lips in a O shape for 8. This really helps when you’re stressing in the middle of the night.

Talk to a dear pal. Got a friend out there who knows how to listen and hold space? Who can nod sympathetically and offer a compassionate ‘there there’? Or perhaps you know just the person who will help you talk through different solutions to what is on your mind. Whatever the case may be, talking it out could be just what you need.

 May these simple solutions offer you help when you need it most! 

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Are You Ignoring Your Natural Power as a Woman?

I used to think I was a powerful woman. I was all bluster and busyness—a real whirlwind when it came to productivity. And I was known to be tough on people, particularly on my staff.

I believed that to be respected professionally, I had to throw my weight around and bully people to get things done. I have since learned that such power is not actually powerful at all.

Instead, it’s just mean. And it makes me and everyone around me feel lousy.

I discovered this after the death of my daughter, and the subsequent loss of my business after I was sidelined by grief for two years. That’s when I found myself picking up the phone, and apologizing to my former staff members, one by one.

It was humbling, to say the least. Yet, it was also key to being able to empower myself for real.

I’ve come to realize the true power we have as women is a quieter affair. It has to do with becoming extremely grounded, present, and attuned to what is happening around us. It also has to do with having strong boundaries, and speaking up when those boundaries get overstepped.

True power is both empathetic and vulnerable. And it’s expressed in a way that will ultimate serve everyone involved … including ourselves.

Remarkably, this power I’m talking about has almost nothing to do with accomplishment. Mostly it’s about how we treat ourselves.

Here are ten ways I’ve determined that we let our power as women naturally leak out. See if any of them apply to you.

1. We don’t give ourselves enough time. It takes time to do things like grieve, process, and even get the day-to day stuff of life accomplished. There is no big award for racing across the finish line first. Then all we are left with is a racing heart, high blood pressure, and rampant anxiety.

Instead, we need to empty the calendar of non-essentials each day, and give ourselves more time to breathe. This would include not over-working just to impress your boss, or agreeing to do things because ‘no one else will do them.’ And it definitely includes extra household chores you’ve assumed instead of asking others to do them. Only then can we be present to the rest of our own needs.

2. We ignore our impulses. It’s so easy to do, right? Our lives can seem like nothing less than a long series of mini-fires we have to put out. And yet, that endless drama loop depletes our energy, and our power, long term. To really regain our mojo, we have to follow our inner instincts. Even when we don’t want to. They are our best source of self-protection.

3. We hide behind the accomplishments of our spouses. Back when I had a husband, I used to talk about him a lot to anyone who would listen. His achievements. His career. His cool ideas. Really, I was his biggest cheerleader, while staying relatively mum about my own work, thoughts and accomplishments. I honestly thought this was my job as a wife.

We leak our power out when we focus on other, more ‘impressive’ people in our lives

4. We think we don’t have the right to speak up. Often the women in the room defer to others, particularly men, especially if they seem well informed. As Valerie Young notes in her imposter syndrome classic, The Secret Thoughts of Successful Women, these guys are often actually blustering. They’re well-schooled in spinning things, and they all know how to ‘fake it til you make it.’ Meanwhile, many highly qualified women sit on the sidelines, assuming they don’t know nearly as much, and they remain silent.

What we don’t realize is that our opinion is not only just as valid, it would be valued at such moments.

5. We feel ashamed to stick out and be heard. Perhaps we have trauma in the past about speaking up, or maybe we bought into the ancient trope that a woman should be seen and not heard. Somehow forging an independent path is difficult for many of us. We don’t want to leave the herd and head in another direction. And yet, this may be exactly what we need to do in order to honor our instincts. I’m here to say it’s really okay.

Whatever shame you may feel is merely a remnant of the past and not to be taken seriously. What if your time actually is now?

6. We let our fear get the best of us. Let’s face it. Being a leader takes courage, whether that act of leadership is big or small. So we get nervous before we make a power move, and who can blame us? The key is simply to include those nerves in the experience and actively embrace them. You’ve got this. You really do.

7. We believe the lies we have been told. Sometimes we are gullible, especially when others around us who feel threatened do what they can to keep us small. That may be a spouse warning us not to take our ideas out into the world, or a boss who assures us we aren’t performing as well as others. We need to keep our eyes open and our thinking clear. Then, when we have doubts, we need to get a reality check from our trusted allies.

Trust your instincts on this, girlfriend. And head for the light.

8. We over-produce, over achieve and overwork. As women, we have high standards, whether it’s making a key presentation at work or baking a birthday cake from scratch. We just want to get the job done right, so we throw ourselves into it. And yet … often we spend far more energy than is actually needed.

We do this to compensate for the feeling we must prove ourselves endlessly. Yet, the truth is we don’t have to work this hard. Good enough really is good enough.

9. We become overly compassionate. Those big bleeding hearts of us do us no favors at times. We leach our power when we worry excessively about how others are doing, and we strategize about how we might help them. Yes, compassion is important. But do keep in mind that others struggles are also their greatest teachers. We do not have to be the savior to all—sometimes it’s actually better for others to save themselves.

That way they get the benefit of the big lesson. And we keep our much-needed energy in reserve.

10. We forget about self-compassion. This is, perhaps, the biggest source of our personal power. That would be our ability to not only forgive ourselves, but to actively take care of ourselves. We need to keep an attentive eye on our boundaries, our emotions, our needs, and we need to advocate for ourselves.

Our power is always right here, waiting for us to own it. All we have to do is say ‘Yes’.

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Some Key Insights That Are Helping Me Cope

We’ve been through a lot, you and me. Just the last two years alone have seen our world go through historic crises, one after another, and apparently we’re not done yet.

Yet, as ever, crisis is our teacher. How do I know this? Because I keep waking up to new levels of understanding and awareness. Sometimes they creep in during my yoga practice (if you don’t do yoga, consider adding it in 2022!)

But sometimes, the insight is just a quick thought that blazes in out of nowhere, a bullet to my previously held, frightened beliefs. Here are a few that have landed for me lately, especially as the Omicron variant of COVID-19 emerges..and suddenly, we’re back to the unknown.

Life really IS in the here and now. Man, have I spent a lot of time worrying. I mean grinding anxiety day after day, hour after hour, through nearly my entire life. AND… that turns out to all be a lot of hogwash, most of which never ever happened. On the other hand, some perfectly good Life was passing by me, unappreciated and unnoticed, because I was too busy fretting. Not worth it, my friend. Believe me!

Everything is temporary—except maybe death. When we are having a tough time, it’s helpful to remember that this tough time will not last long at all in the larger scheme of things. Even a  year is still a small fraction of your life. Most likely, we’ll pass through the crisis at hand, get to the other side, and make improvements accordingly. Only caveat, of course, is death. And then…well, we get to start all over again!

Kindness is the only thing that matters, long term. Yes, our responsibilities do matter. We must pay our taxes, educate our children, show up for  work, go to the dentist and so forth. But at the end of our lives, what will we remember? I suspect it will be the moments of loving kindness, of grace shared between two willing people. That exchange of energy is really what this tangled life is all about, isn’t it? Love truly saves the day.

What we resist persists. It’s an old koan but so very true. All that stuff that makes our blood boil? Turns out to be a test of our operating system. Can we just allow it to exist and walk away if we need to? Know that whatever is happening is not only inevitable, it is also our teacher. For our power lies in our ability to allow in and even embrace  the hard things in life.

I actually learned this from our puppy Zephyr. Oh how she loves to pull and tug on her leash when she doesn’t want to come in. What I am learning to do is just relax, loosen the leash and let her tug away while I turn my attention elsewhere. After a moment, when she finally gets that there is no game there, she lets go and trots happily inside.

When you stop resisting, life flows unimpeded like a river. Which means the tough stuff eventually just works its way through. Which is not to say ignore it—but understand it’s here for a reason. Got a job you hate, for instance? Great time to change it. Or to make some requests and let that boss understand what needs of yours aren’t being met. Shift, and even miracles happen when we stop resisting and work with reality instead.

Nothing much matters in the end. Finally, I invite you to consider that much of what once seemed so very important, and even mission critical in your life, may not actually matter much at all. When COVID began I was still clinging to this idea that “someday” I was going to be a breakout author with a mega bestselling book. My agent and my publisher and just plain old reality have since disabused me of this notion as I turn 63. My book, The Extremely Busy Woman’s Guide to Self-Care has sold respectably, but it’s not a bestseller. And my memoir has failed to find a publisher at all.

But that’s okay, friends. I find I actually no longer need to be a breakout best-selling author. Mind you, this is something I actively longed for through most of my 40 year career as a writer. In fact, now that I’ve let it go, I feel strangely joyful! What I realize is that old dream was just my ego talking. Do I seriously want my life to be all about work, and media tours, and tons of requests coming my way all the time? Or do I want what I have now…a sweet life with the woman I love in a comfortable place at an interesting time? Obviously, I’ll take the latter.

I must say, this insight is humbling. TYet, it’s also remarkably relieving. I no longer have to think of myself as ‘almost there’. Now I can be proud of what I’ve accomplished and let it be enough in its own right.

Life is grand—if we just allow it to show up that way, my friend. All you gotta do is embrace it for all it’s worth!

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Go Ahead & Break Down (The Healing Power of a Good Meltdown)

Lately I’ve been thinking about how overwhelming it is for so many of us to deal with loss.

Mainly because here in the U.S., we don’t really ‘do’ loss. We do high achievement, striving for success and cheering on our co-workers, our sports teams. Our kids. The code is simple: Work hard, play hard, get it all right. And don’t forget to have fun. And smile!

This means when the bottom drops out and we stop getting results—or worse we lose something or someone we loved… well, then what the hell do we do? This world doesn’t seem to provide many clues. Our pain becomes nothing less than overwhelming.

Here’s when a perspective shift can be helpful. For what I learned after grieving my daughter’s death and losing most everything I had in 2012 is that loss is actually an extraordinary catalyst. It can literally heal your life… but only if you let it.

There’s a saying among parents who’ve lost children: You can either become better or bitter. And I love that, because it offers us a powerful reframe.

Don’t expect fast results. It took me a good two to three years to really climb out from under my grief at losing Teal. The good news is that I did, and I learned a lot about life and myself and how supported I am. The bad news is that along the way I had no idea what to expect next.

It wasn’t easy. And yet, the alternative—avoiding grief altogether—is just as hard. If not worse.

Losing a loved one generally requires a complete surrender to grief, and to the unknown, and this is where we all get tangled up. This is the road we don’t want to go down, the one we’ll do anything to avoid.

And yet, by fighting it, we just prolong the suffering. For sure, you can seal that vault and bury it deep in your psyche. But seriously, it’s not going anywhere. All you’ll have to do is be reminded of what or who you lost, and that discomfort will come swimming up again and again until you finally resolve it.

The key is to embrace the pain. To just finally, lovingly give yourself a break and stop holding it all together. You can begin the process by simply getting quiet, and sitting with yourself for a while. Notice what’s going on in your body, for starters. Then have at it.

Ugly cry, beat the pillows on the couch, primal scream if you need to. Get a great big pad of newsprint and some fat magic markers and scrawl out your darkest thoughts. Go to grief groups and bitch all you want about your losses. And keep a box of tissues in your car. (For some reason driving was my favorite place to cry. When it got really bad I just pulled over and had a meltdown.)

Permission to utterly collapse into your pain is what we all need at such times, and what so many of us don’t want to give ourselves. We worry that we won’t ‘be there’ for others, or somehow be able to keep up our responsibilities. And we may not be able to. That’s when we ask for help.

Embracing the totality of our situation is critical. This is when we truly have to get real…for our own sakes.

I also mentioned dealing with the unknown, as in what’s going to happen next? I lost my business, my relationship and the home I lived just a few months before I lost Teal. So there was a lot up in the air, beginning with how do I make a living? It took a long time to sort out.

Honestly, I had no choice but to surrender. I couldn’t worry about these things. Instead, I just hunkered down in a rented room in someone’s house, and my ‘job’ became grieving, reading, and taking care of myself.

I made becoming better my focus, and that was my only certainty in life.

In the end, this approach guided me well. In fact, I think it literally saved me. The right work eventually found me, as did a wonderful new home, a new city and a marriage to the love of my life. My trajectory has simply kept on rising in the nine years since Teal’s death.

I attribute this to my complete and total meltdown, in which I expected nothing—NOTHING—from myself for a good long while. And yes, just for the record, I had some savings in the bank I could live on. I moved in with a friend, and found all sorts of free resources for people in my situation. And I found copious support and like-minded others in grief groups  at the local hospice. These became my footholds as I climbed up to my new life.

So whatever you are dealing with, may this little essay inspire you to let go and have at it. The Universe truly wants you to heal, one tear drop, one wail, and one precious ache at a time.

You will get through this, my friend, just as you always have.

 

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