Suzanne Falter's Blog, page 7

The Healing Magic of a Good Cry

If you’re like me, you’ve been needing a good cry lately. Perhaps you’ve needed one for the last year.

The fact is that a lot of us aren’t crying, even if we need to. I attribute this partly to the absence of any discussion of grief or loss in the public discourse, until just recently. Yet, I also attribute this to our own shock and denial over the pandemic.

At this point, 435,000 of our fellow Americans have died from COVID-19 and the number keeps growing. That’s 435,000 wives, mothers, sons, bosses, cousins, husbands, grandads, and ladies up the street. Then there are the millions whose lives, finances and even businesses have been gutted by the pandemic. Our world has been inexorably changed.

It’s simply impossible to grasp this fact—it’s too huge. So we carry on, bothered but not yet heartbroken.

That’s the way it is with shock and denial. On an August night in 2012, I had a lovely dinner in with my 22-year-old daughter Teal. Two hours later she collapsed face down in an empty bathtub from a massive cardiac arrest. Six days later, she was dead. I had no idea what had just hit me.

I soldiered on in those early days after Teal’s death, planning her memorial, informing her friends she was gone. I was afraid to fall apart because I figured the minute I started crying in earnest, I probably wouldn’t stop. So I spent months trying to keep it together, against all odds.

Finally, inevitably, the dam of my bottomless grief burst, and I cried long and hard for the better part of a year. It was ugly crying, snot streaming, shoulders heaving as I tried to wash dishes or write. I kept boxes of tissues everywhere, from my car to my office. Work ended. I was a basket case.

Yet, along with this pain came a surprising sense of relief as my body began to heal itself.

I found it felt good to cry. As hard as it was to keep touching that pain, I knew I was doing the right thing.

The photographer Rose-Lynn Fisher has captured the essence of this in her microscopic images of dried tears. They’re filled with elaborate crystalline patterns that graphically prove a striking reality. Our tears are chemically different, depending on the emotion we express.

Our tears of joy, laughter or irritation are simply not the same as our tears of grief. In fact, our tears of deep emotion contain the pain-killing neurotransmitter leucine encephalin. The body releases it when under stress.

Recently, I woke up knowing today was the day for my own grief. I finally took a little time for myself, and curled myself into fetal position in the quiet of my bedroom. I began to think of all the pain I’d seen… and then there it was.

My grief. It had been patiently waiting for me.

I recalled stories of COVID deaths gleaned from the media, and conversations with two friends who just lost their mothers. I felt into the bewilderment of all those people sitting in cars, snaking for miles, just to get a little free food. I thought about the overwhelmed healthcare workers, clearly going through hell. I thought about all the Black and Brown communities looking on, powerless as they lose so many. And so their pain became my pain.

Yet as I cried, I remembered something else sweet and precious—that we are not as alone as we think. I resolved to help a little more. To be kinder. To reach out where I could. To show up and do what must be done to help the collective good. So my relief poured through me yet again,

This is the value of our tears and our grief. When we touch it, and we actually allow ourselves to break down and have a good cry, on the other side we find the golden lesson of human understanding.

All we have to do is stop for a moment, feel what’s there…and wait for healing to begin.

 

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Need to Get Grounded? Here are Seven Good Ways

 

The last week in the US has put the entire country on edge as we work through political challenges. And so… a lot of us are more frazzled than usual. Like me. So I’ve been gathering up some really good, fast ways to get re-grounded. In that spirit, here are seven ways that are working for me. Perhaps you’ll find them useful, too.

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. 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 sleep 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. 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. 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.Try some slow yoga. Some yoga practices requires us to be up, vigorous and sweaty, while other styles take a slower, more thoughtful approach. I refer specifically to Yin Yoga, Kripalu Yoga and my own personal favorite, Tri-Yoga. These are slow flowing forms of yoga designed to relax us and get us into our own special groove. And boy… does that work. (See my recent blog post on this, What Yoga and Chickens Taught Me About Being Here Now.) It’s worth investing in a yoga mat and a few yoga blocks to pull out as needed.Hug a tree. I know, I know. This sounds a little crazy, but I promise you…it works. My dear pal (and co-host of the Back to Happy podcast) Debi Granger 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. 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!Have a good cry. When nothing else works, it can be very helpful just to meltdown and have a long sob. Perhaps that is just 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 exactly 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. To get started, close the door, lie down in a quiet place and feel into what’s wrong. If you give yourself enough space and time, you’ll get there.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 ideas soothe you, heal you, and help you come back to YOU.

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Seven Ideas for a Happier Life

I woke up this morning with the most beautiful insight. I realized I genuinely love people. Like … everyone. It wasn’t always thu

This sense has been a lifetime in coming. Mainly because I spent a lot of my life mad at people. And who can blame me?

I was Susie Codependent – forever controlling, cajoling, managing, and manipulating. I thought it was my job to force reality every step of the way … just to be on the safe side.

So when life didn’t give me what I wanted, I was mad. That’s what happens when we suffer childhood traumas. These can be anything from severe bullying to having an addict parent to the illness or death in the family. When this happens, we build ourselves tough little cages of steel to live in … and so we suffer.

Mind you, a lot of us were exceptional children. We were the kids who were wise beyond our years, who knew how to cope with any disaster. We were the responsible ones who stayed late helping the teacher after school – usually to avoid the chaos at home. And we were often the tender kids who couldn’t play sports but wrote awesome poems.

This is the gift of severe loss. We have heightened sensitivity, and an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. We have anger – yet we have empathy as well. We feel the pulse of life a little more deeply.

So in adulthood, our work is to take down this jerry-rigged defense system we’ve build around us. And sometimes it takes a real disaster to make that happen.

Losing my daughter in 2012 and letting go of my former life did the trick for me. Immediately my perspective shifted. I relaxed and have turned the spotlight back on me.

Now these have become my guiding principles. They’re simple, they cost nothing, and they don’t require any ‘doing’. (No, you don’t have to meditate, though that’s always a help.)

1. I don’t need to make anyone happy but myself. It’s actually my more important responsibility.

2. I really can – and do – say ‘No’ whenever I need to now. The sky doesn’t fall. It’s great!

3. No one has to march to my tune but me. Everyone else has a right to live their life EXACTLY the way they want. As do I. If that means we need to go separate ways, so be it. It’s just part of God’s plan.

4. Things usually work out just fine. Once you’ve been thru the worst thing that can happen and you emerge better for it … you learn to go with what comes. Really, truly. Things do work out.

5. Stop worrying. Turns out worrying doesn’t actually help – and it just produces a lot of agita. So I try not to spend time there anymore.

6. We can’t force reality. What a shocker! So thought I could. Kind of hilarious when you think about it.

7. In the end, all we’ve got is love. Turns out accumulating stuff is highly overrated and somewhat lonely. But love really does heal all wounds.

May my little list help you in some way today … or next year. Written with a hug … and with you in mind.

Namaste,

 

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What Needs to Change In Your Life RIght Now?

Who will you be in the coming year?

Will you be angry? Frantic? Ever more pressed into the tight coil of responsibilities that defined you, pre-pandemic? Or perhaps, even more so now?

Or will you push the annual reset button, and try something different instead?

Consider this, friend. What if all of life was a grand experiment? One in which we tried on various attitudes, pursuits and beliefs—and then we rejected those that simply didn’t work.

If you’re like many of us, you may approach the coming year with a mixture of dread, exhaustion, and even a little fear. If you relate… then stop and reconsider for a moment.

What if 2021 was actually the best year you’ve ever known?

Sounds good, right? So, you rightly ask, how do I get there?

It begins with belief. Try on the simple belief that in the coming year, all the stuff that currently doesn’t work for you is going to get fixed. Changed. Upgraded.

Yet, this can only happen with sterling clarity. You have to ask yourself some key questions, and you must answer them honestly.

Here’s a list of such questions for you to consider. I invite you to create a little quiet time, pour yourself a cup of tea or a glass of wine, and pull out your journal.

Then have at it. Write your heart out in response to these good questions. You can answer all of them or only those that speak to you.

What you learn may surprise you.

What have you been hanging on to that you need to let go of?
Who or what has been dragging you down or weighing heavy on your mind?
Who needs your apology?
What have you been tolerating?
Where could you be more accepting?
Where have you gotten stuck in the last year?
What have you been craving or longing for?
What have you been hard on yourself about?
Do you need to forgive yourself?
What would make your life wonderful?
What’s missing in your life—even if you don’t know how to manifest it yet?
What inspires you, excites you, lights you up?
Who or what has added immeasurably to your life?
Whom do you need to thank and appreciate?
What’s been unexpectedly fun?
Who would you like to be in the coming year?
Where could you make some clear requests?
What will you do just for you?

I maintain that we were given our lives for one purpose: to evolve. To learn from our challenges, one by one, and become the transcendent beings we actually are.

When we stop, look, breathe and feel, we grow in untold ways. We wake up to our own previously limited consciousness and so it expands.

May you feel into the beautiful, clear source of power that you are in the coming year. And may your beautiful energy shine through in everything you do.

You are special.
You are radiant.
You are unique.
And so…you are love.

Happiest of holidays, friend. I am so very happy that you are in my world.

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What Yoga and Chickens Taught Me About Being Here Now

The other morning, I did yoga at the unGodly hour of 7AM. Except that it turned out to be a very Godly hour, indeed. So, as it turned out, the joke was on me. Little did I know what a potential life changer that particular yoga class might turn out to be.

The mystery happened while I lay in savasana, known in some yoga traditions as ‘corpse pose’ and in others as ‘yoga nidra’. The moment to rest had finally come after more than an hour of rigorous poses. My arthritic joints had been woken up and mobilized, my spine fully flexed and limbered, my mind clear and refreshed.

Kashi Ananda, my wonderful Tri-Yoga teacher spoke in her gentle, lilting voice as I lay there. “Yoga is awareness,” she said, and I filed that away. I wasn’t sure I actually knew what awareness was, I realized. Yet, I also knew it was important. Was awareness feeling the breeze on your skin instead of ignoring it, your mind on other seemingly more pressing things?

Or was it having insight after insight about all that had troubled and plagued me in my life? Was it just a non-stop string of ‘aha’ moments? Or was awareness something subtler.

I actually experienced just such a moment not long after the class ended. After chanting  Om three times and saying Namaste, I rolled up my mat, ready to move on to the next thing in my day. I felt wonderful—relaxed and fully alive. I opened the slider to our deck, and stepped out into an unseasonably warm California morning.

Suddenly, I was aware.

I could feel the air on my bare arms as it moved around every hair on my skin. The sweet vanilla scent of a nearby heliotrope filled my mind. I looked at the flowers on the plant and they were a Kodachrome purple, seeming to pulse with color.  Tiny cream colored roses spilled over from the rose bush next to it, and I realized I’d never before seen how abundant and overflowing with life they were. I was so filled with gratitude I nearly cried.

Then I strolled down on to our brick patio, where my wife sat contemplating her chickens, Nancy and Red. Mind you, I was at best lukewarm about the chickens in the past—they were her project, not mine. But lately the little devils had begun to grow on me.

Their tender little clucks now sounded so soothing, so pacifying that any last wrinkle in my mind was immediately put to peace. I gazed over at my wife with deep, appreciative love. I got it now. Our small world, now severely limited by a pandemic lockdown, was as rich and wonderful as anything I’d ever known.

Whatever ‘problems’ I’d been harboring were non-existent now as I realized that awareness was mine. Perhaps, I thought, such intense focus on this moment, here and now, was all it took to be truly happy.

Are there dilemmas that must be solved, or at least lived with? Yes, there are. And yet, isn’t that true for every one of us? For what is life, if not a non-stop series of challenges through which we must find our way?

What is life if it is not constantly teaching us something important, something potentially life changing?

It is in this spirit that I ask you to embrace this current never-before-experienced Pandemic holiday season. There are gifts buried deep and wide here, friends. All you have to do it tune in to the immediate world around you to find them. This is the silver lining, for we truly are being forced for once to slow down and go within. And this is just where awareness begins.

We’re being forced to determine what really soothes us and feeds us in our life. For me, I’ve found several new staples, including Kashi’s yoga (a class I once loved but couldn’t attend until she went online in March.) And yes… the damn chickens are new favorites, too. I left their gate open the other day and one of them fled. I was beside myself with worry until we finally managed to get her back into the coop.

And yet, am I surprised? Not at all. My crusty old love-resistant heart always comes around in the end.

Perhaps this is truly what awareness is.

It’s not only being with what is…it’s finding the vast and abundant gifts hidden within.

 

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How I Drowned My Anxiety with Love and Understanding

Where are you with appreciating the raw stuff of life?

It your gratitude parked somewhere on a shelf, as you focus instead on everything that’s hard? That’s worrisome?

That’s downright scary?

I know I woke up with a mighty case of anxiety this morning. And the only thing that cracked that particular egg was self-care. I put off work for a few hours, knowing I could work from 11 to 6 instead of 9 to 5.

Then I lay down on my bed, and indulged in a good twenty minutes of Yoga Nidra. (This is a guided meditation that leads one into a restful ‘yogic sleep’ in which you are relaxed, yet awake.)

I fought off the demons in my head that kept endlessly repeating frightening tidbits in the media, and what someone said to someone. While I could see that none of it was cause for general alarm, my central nervous system hadn’t gotten the message. So I fretted. In a long-playing loop I could not stop.

Honestly, I was a mess until I fully, completely relaxed. After meditation, I spent a little time being grateful for specific things. This always makes me feel infinitely better, as I tune into the many blessings I’ve been given in this small life.

Then I took one more self-care step and went grocery shopping.

For me, my weekly visit to our local grocery, Berkeley Bowl, is an exercise in community and abundance, and it’s marvelously reassuring. Here I really can get anything I want. I found Mexican hominy for pozole. I found my favorite Japanese furikake seasoning, that I have on my poached eggs in the morning.

I shop alongside the grandmothers from Central America, India and Little Italy, the professors from Cal, the tech kids buying Impossible Burgers. I even pick up cheap tulips that fill our house with color. And yes, I found a damn good bottle of Sauvignon Blanc at a reasonable price, as well as my all-time-favorite must-have-every-week dark chocolate bar. (Alter Eco’s Brown Butter bar.)

Somehow walking the aisles of Berkeley Bowl puts me back together. It gives me a realm in which I have total control for a little while. As long as I can cook a really good dinner for my wife and myself, life will go on as it is. This is a central fact around which my world revolves.

Once I got home, put the groceries away, and got the pozole going in the slow cooker … well, then I was ready to work. And not one moment sooner.

This is being in flow, and it’s a process that relies on being present in my body. It requires real trust as I head for what folks in Recovery call ‘the next right thing’. As usual, my body tells me what and where it is, and I’m grateful for that highly precise navigation.

To get there, I simply have to tune in to my body, my heart and soul—sometimes with my hand on my belly—and listen. Then I must be willing to do what it says, even if it insists I start work a few hours later than usual. It usually understands far more about how to proceed than I do, so I go with it.

Now as I work, I am calm and grounded. I’m actually efficient. Gone are the gremlins that chewed at my serenity a few hours back, and the always tempting desire to procrastinate.

I tick items off my list, one after another. I’m in flow and it feels so very, very good.

Maybe what I’m doing is what my late daughter Teal used to call ‘just being’. Thich Naht Hanh put it this way:                “Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis on which the world earth revolves – slowly,    evenly, without rushing toward the future.”

And while you’re at it, consider cooking a lovely meal for yourself along the way, or even simply counting your blessings. It will help you become far more at peace.

And that, friend, is the sure road back to happiness.

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Meditation Tips for People With Too Much on Their Mind

Meditation. Seems like such a peaceful, lovely, serene idea, doesn’t it?

And yet. If you’re like me, you’re a restless meditator. And yes … that’s because I’m super busy all the time.

You know how it is when you finally try to stop and do nothing. I find myself shifting around on my cushion. Scratching my nose, or my head, or that impossible to reach spot in my back. There is no Zen stillness in this body, nor has there ever been.

Then there are the lists that run through my head while I’m meditating. The To-Do’s. The Things I Should Have Said. The Grocery LIst. The just plain marinating that goes on in this grey matter is big.

And yet – I have learned over the years how to actually slow down and make meditation work, even in this restless body. So I do have that a regular practice, and it seriously helps with my latent anxiety.

Here’s why meditation is so important every day—it chills you the hell out. Really.

When I don’t meditate at least five times each week … maybe even just for 10 or 15 minutes … the day to day drama and my inability to cope with it seems to increase sevenfold. My work, and my life, just go far more smoothly when I meditate.

My meditation sessions are my place to get back to myself, to reground in a new, calmer, more upbeat or relaxed reality. And they are my connection to the Great Beyond, and whatever may be out there.

It really has become the key to my serenity. And if that isn’t needed now… well, when would it be?

So here are some tools I’ve found that keep even this wildly active mind on the Emptiness Channel.

Meditate first thing. Ideally, do it before anything else. Okay, I will admit to a certain amount of news gathering in bed that goes on before I actually get up each morning. But then I do move right to the cushion in my PJ’s. Because if I don’t … it just doesn’t happen. Most likely, you won’t get to it ‘later’…so better not to tell yourself you will.
Don’t eat or drink just before meditation. The emptier your body is, the more likely you are to find that easeful place of emptiness. Don’t even have a quick coffee. A little water, however, is just fine. This is also in the vein of ‘do this first thing’.
Remove distracting noise. Do you live in a noisy space? Try some earplugs, or even noise cancelling headphones tuned into Insight Timer or Spotify’s soothing playlists. Or Yoga Nidra (see #8 below.)
Find the perfect cushion. Do you need to go out and purchase a special meditation cushion (aka a Zafu)? No! Though they can be fun and very comfortable. I have one that’s filled loosely with buckwheat groats, so it can mold to a butt rather nicely. These days I just stack up some couch cushions, and sit on them cross-legged on top of a large, firm ottoman in our living room. Put that cushion just below your butt, and sit cross legged so you don’t slouch. The goal is not to be rigidly upright, but firmly supported to have an upright posture. Some people prefer a supportive chair that doesn’t make you slump.
Time your meditation. I know it sounds counter intuitive, but timing will help your busy mind stop worrying about when your meditation ends. For this, I like to use Insight Timer. You can build your own timer with lovely choices like soothing waterfalls, rainfall or gentle music. You even get your choice of gongs when it ends.
Add some timing chimes along the way. I set my timer to include a halfway chime, and then one two minutes before I finish. I choose a timing chime that sounds different from the chime that happens at the end. This allows me to have a general sense of how much time has passed. And for this busy mind, that really helps. Insight Timer has a lovely selection of Tibetan singing bowls and gongs to choose from.
When in doubt use guided visualizations. After decades of meditating to absolutely nothing, I realized I had a choice. I could click on the little headphones icon on Insight Timer, or scroll through the list on the Calm app, and tap into 5000 different guided visualizations. They vary wildly, but if you pick and choose you can find some fantastic ones. There are many new meditation apps out there, as well as free meditation videos on YouTube. So you have your pick.
Try Yoga Nidra. I LOVE yoga nidra! It’s essential for calming a jumpy nervous system. This centuries old practice is also known as ‘yogic sleep’, because you lie on your back and absolutely, totally, completely relax… while a gentle voice guides you to ‘relax your thumb, relax your index finger all the way down to the tip’, etc etc. My favorite practitioner is Julie Yogaressa’s album Calm: Guided Relaxation Yoga Nidra on Spotify. Her lovely accent and her timing  guide you to a place of totally letting go. Available in different time lengths, but 20 minutes (‘More Yoga Nidra’) will totally get the job done.
If all else fails, meditate before bed. This is especially helpful if you have insomnia or lack sound sleep. The evening meditation helps you really let go of the pieces of the day that might keep you distracted. Think of it as a way to give your mind a clean sweep.

There… you should now be on your way to a beautiful meditation! Do comment below and let me know how it goes!

 

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How I Used EMDR to Heal My Trauma

The first time I ever did EMDR, I went straight back to infancy. Like … in my crib.

It was remarkable.

EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing therapy and it works by using bilateral stimulation to help the brain reprocess old traumas and memories. Perhaps that stimulation happens with flashing lights, alternating vibrations, or clicks heard through right and left headphones. If you suffer from any kind of childhood trauma, it’s a technique that works to heal old wounds.

Proven in more than 20 randomized controlled studies, this therapy for PTSD has been recommended for several years by the American Psychiatric Association, the Veteran’s Administration and the Department of Defense. But these days the definition of ‘trauma’ has expanded to go way beyond the theater of war.

Turns out a lot of the rest of us are dealing with various forms of PTSD as well, just from the slings and arrows of everyday life. In my case, my trauma first showed up as an unexplainable fear of my former girlfriend. I loved this woman. But when she walked in the room, I was often filled with a strange, triggered wave of fear.

EMRD was suggested as a way to reprocess my trauma from the past. And given that my mother was an abusive, suicidal addict, that seemed likely to be the source. Especially given that this was my first committed lesbian relationship.

The EMDR process is simple. In my therapist’s case, she placed a grey plastic pod in each of my hands. Then she sat down across from me with a small control box that was wired into the pods.

For a moment, we talked about safe allies I could imagine as I went through this process. In my case, this was my older sister Lisa, and a beloved German Shepherd from my childhood. We got clear on exactly what emotional experience needed to be processed. Then she turned on her little magic box.

The pods in my hands began to gently vibrate, first right then left, as I recounted my memory of the last time I’d been scared of my girlfriend. It wasn’t anything she’d said or done—it was just a feeling. Which I promptly felt.

Then suddenly I was swimming back through time, as the pods increased their gentle, persistent buzz, back and forth and back and forth. I remembered a few cloudy moments of childhood abuse, but neither of them were ‘it’. My body kept wanting to nudge me further back through time.

So I went with it.

Soon I landed at the source of my discomfort. It was a moment when I was only about four months old, and I became tangled in a crocheted blanket while napping in my crib. Suddenly the memory was vivid as a wall of anxiety hit me hard.

The blanket covered my face and my mouth, and I pulled at it, frantically trying to release it. In an instant the memory came barrelling back, cold, hard and real. I could still remember my frenzied writhing, as I tried to get away from the suffocating blanket. I began breathing hard, fearing I would die, as the memory raced through my brain.

I began screaming at the top of my lungs, just like a baby would. Only this time, I was screaming that I was going to die. I could feel the certainty of the belief. The regular pulsing of the pods stayed with me all the while, becoming more and more intense as we built to the source of the trauma.

As it crested, the therapist asked me to find my ally. In an instant, in came my older sister Lisa, who I could see leaning over my crib. She gently removed the blanket from my face. Then she picked up my little baby self, and comforted me in her arms as my panic gradually subsided. I settled after a few moments, while the pulsing in my hands slowly continued.

“How’s your anxiety now?” the therapist asked after a few moments.

It was significantly reduced. What followed were images in which I imagined my partner walking in, and my delight, not fear, around her arrival. Not long after that, the session ended.

My body was far more relaxed now than when I’d arrived, and my breathing had returned to normal. I felt exhausted. Yet at the same time I was exhilarated, and lit with a strangely unfamiliar joy and relief. The world seemed good again.

And yes, the next time my girlfriend walked into a room I was occupying, I was no longer hit with a stab of terror. This stuff actually worked!

As my interest in EMDR grew, so did my awareness of old traumas I wanted to heal. I took on a lifelong fear of publicity and being known, especially around my most vulnerable work. This was in spite of my long career as a writer. It was an annoying, persistent stress I couldn’t shake.

Enter EMDR. This time my helpful ally was none less than the great Mexican art icon, Frida Kahlo. And Frida had a lot to say. In one session, I went back to a memory from my childhood, when my ninth grade teacher Miss Parsley got me alone, closed the door, and asked why I was suddenly failing my classes. It made no sense, given that I was usually a straight A student.

In an instant, I was back in the memory, and the claustrophobic feeling of being closed in on. Meanwhile, real terror passed through me as the pods buzzed on and off in my hands.

I couldn’t tell Miss Parsley that my alcoholic mother had just attempted suicide. We’d been sworn not to tell anyone. Nor could I share how often I had to sit by mom’s bedside, doling out false words of encouragement while she got drunk on vodka and berated me. Nor could I share the fact that I was gay, something that would never be tolerated in my parents’ homophobic home.

I was terrified to share anything that was bothering me, or to ask for help. In fact, I didn’t believe I deserved it.

Now, Frida appeared as the memory peaked. “Ay, Chica!” she began, taking my arm. Gently Frida led me away from the scene and suggested I come live with her and Diego at the Casa Azul. “We will help you. We will take care of you, and teach you how to be a true artist – and to be yourself,” she suggested. Here was the safe space and

And given that Frida, herself, was bi, even my queerness was accepted. I suddenly relaxed as I listened to Frida’s encouraging words in my vision. On buzzed the pods as my body relaxed palpably. I breathed a new sense of hope as this new reality was now seared into my brain.

In the weeks that have followed, and my subsequent EMDR sessions, I notice a glorious thing. Where I once held back and worried incessantly about public exposure and submitting my work, the voice of doubt is suddenly gone. Instead, I feel liberated to show up and share.

Furthermore, I believe what I have to share is genuinely useful – and needed. I can even ask for help now and comfortably, gratefully receive it.

Not only that, I even feel far more forgiving and understanding about my poor mother and the challenges she faced in her lifetime. Indeed, I have come to realize she was a powerful teacher in learning to overcome my own difficulties. Yet, to realize this I needed the right tools.

It simply took all of this time to screw up my courage, call in the EMDR and finally get the job done.

The post How I Used EMDR to Heal My Trauma appeared first on Suzanne Falter.

Yes, You Really Can Ease the Morning Rush (Ten Quick Ways)

You know what it’s like. Once that alarm rings, all hell breaks loose. There is a frantic dash to get children up, dressed, teeth brushed, lunches made, backpacks located. And always in the middle of it, someone small announces they need a shoebox. Mornings aren’t exactly serene.

Meanwhile, you may have to hustle yourself out the door up to your at home office to work as well. You might even be trying to do all of this alone. Perhaps you’re overseeing homeschooling at the same time. And so, you may be close to losing it.

So … what if you did all of this differently? What if you even managed a wee bit of self-care at the same time? It is actually possible. I promise. And this could make all the difference in a tough COVID morning.

You really don’t have to wait until the kids go to bed to take time for you. (Reminder: The stronger, happier and more peaceful Mom is, the better the household will run.)

Here are ten steps you can take that should make mornings flow much more smoothly. And so your days improve, whether you’re all stuck at home or not.

1.    Get kids into the practice of choosing and laying out their clothing for the next day. This is true for those who are still sheltering at home, and those sending kids to school. It avoids the dithering that can go on … especially if you have pre-teen daughters who tend to deliberate over every choice. This also solves the problem of the missing sock or lunchbox in the morning. Rather than bug them into doing this, make it a game. What could be the reward?

2.    Make a rule that once homework is done, backpacks get filled and placed by the front door. Or in place by the computer, if kids are learning at home. Honestly, this IS the kind of structure that can make a big difference. If there’s low motivation on this one, again—make it a game. Who can get the job done first? For kids without siblings, promise an extra bedtime story if they get the job done by a certain time.

3.    Get into the habit of anticipating special requests from your kids’ teachers. Then ask your child each evening—or even check into their backpacks yourself—for evidence of such. If you’re monitoring your child’s online classes, you may already be aware of this. If not, set up an email filter that flags request emails from your child’s school.

4.    Make and pack up school lunches the night before. Do this whether they will be leaving the house or not. That keeps kids organized, and helps them know for sure what their day will include. Kind of fun to involve the kids on this one as well. Let them help you shop for ingredients and assemble sandwiches, wash veggies, etc.. Generally, they like being turned loose in the kitchen.

5.    Put on some music that’s fun and upbeat once everyone’s awake. This generally keeps the mood in the house light. The right music can also keep people moving happily, right out the door. And yes, even stay at home kids learning online need to be up, dressed, washed, brushed… bedrooms tidied or whatever your request is. (Remember, moms who outsource some tasks to their kids often carry less stress, have more time for self-care… and raise more responsible children.)

6.    Keep your phone out of the bedroom. Don’t allow yourself that scant few minutes before you get up to scan messages, headlines and emails. Instead, use that time for a mini-meditation, breathwork, or a quick walk that will truly help you reframe your day for maximum peace and serenity.

7.    Visit a sanctuary corner in your home as soon as you wake up. Might be an altar, or it might be a comfortable chair by a pretty plant or a window. Have a seat, close your eyes and give yourself ten minutes to just go within. Spend that time actively soothing yourself. If you need help, use one of the guided meditations on an app like Insight Timer. You may need to do this before you kids wake up. Ten minutes should do the trick.

8.    Do a little conscious breathing. Even taking ten slow even breaths as you’re sitting in your sanctuary corner can do it. Conscious breathing, or breathwork, has been proven to lower anxiety and soothe your central nervous system. A relaxing one is ‘box breathing’: Breathe in to a count of four. Hold for a count of four. Exhale for a count of four. Hold for a count of four.

9.    Have a shower that’s luxurious. Add a body wash or shampoo that feels or smells very nurturing. Make it something you just love. Spend a few extra moments just savoring the feeling of the water. Consider playing a little gentle background music in the bathroom. Close your eyes and really, truly relax in the shower. If you can’t do so here…where can you?

10.                  Feed yourself something that makes you feel really good. Instead of just grabbing the usual or waiting until you get to work, give yourself the nutrition you need. What would you love to have for breakfast? Perhaps a green smoothie? Bacon and eggs? Get it all set up ahead of time … then enjoy.

If you follow this tips, you may end up spending an extra half hour at night setting things up. Yet, in the long terms, organization and planning like this can feed your energy. And ease your day significantly.

Here’s to every day being a good day!

The post Yes, You Really Can Ease the Morning Rush (Ten Quick Ways) appeared first on Suzanne Falter.

A Chance Encounter in a Rose Garden Helped Me Learn the Value of Service

I first noticed the couple as I was lounging among the rose bushes.

He was resplendent in a peach sherbet jacket, while she wore a gown of cream colored lace. Their children were dressed in brilliant hot pink – a tiny vest with dress pants and bow tie for him, a stiff crinoline dress for her. It appeared to be the parents’ wedding day, and yet … they were alone.

I was taking a break from weeding the local rose garden, and I was feeling seriously virtuous. But let’s not kid ourselves — I’m normally not one to help out. Usually I blow by every last panhandler, and I seldom write a check for a good cause. I tell myself I’m just too busy.

Yet it was not always thus.

For three years after the sudden death of my daughter Teal in 2012, I stopped all the time to help. I doled out dollar bills, listened to hard luck stories, and donated to causes. I even made lunch at a soup kitchen for several memorable months.

In my softened, grief-stricken state, I became open and willing. I told myself this was what Teal would have done, because she had a big, yielding heart that could resist no person’s pain.

I decided I would be like Teal — more generous, more aware of others, and just plain more sensitive. But then life intruded, my grief slowly healed, and I went back to being … well … me. Eyes locked on the phone. Thoughts racing ahead. Indelibly focused on Getting Things Done.

Enter the well-dressed Black couple in the rose garden. I watched as they struggled to take selfies of themselves and their balking children. Suddenly I was walking towards them, determined to assist. The mother and father eyed me as I approached with a mix of wariness and desperation.

“I’ll take some pictures of you if you want,” I offered.

The bride’s eyes lit up. “Fantastic!” she said, handing me the phone. They posed stiffly in front of a fountain as the children continued to fidget, and I took a few mediocre shots. Uncharacteristically, I found I wanted to do more. In fact, I needed to do more.

“Where else can we take them?” I found myself saying. “I’ll shoot anything you want.”

“Is there a better spot?” the bride asked eagerly.

I looked around, suddenly inspired. Another wedding couple had been posing moments earlier for their photographer under a nearby bower of roses in full bloom.

So we began to advance on the bower ourselves.  As we walked and chatted, I noticed that the couple had African accents. I asked where they were from.

“Ghana,” explained the bride. “We just came back from getting married there.”

Now it all began to make sense. The year Teal graduated from high school, she lived in Ghana for several months as a volunteer.

In the next breath, the bride asked me if I had children, and for a moment I found myself unable to speak. Finally, I composed myself and told her about Teal, and she smiled at me with genuine understanding

Now as they posed, inspiration descended. I directed them to tuck in close to the roses. I had no idea what I was doing … but it felt right, so I was doing it. The effect was gorgeous.

Then I asked them to kiss for the camera. “Oh, I’m too shy!” laughed the bride. But they did anyway, as the pearly white blossoms trailed around them.

The children stood watching, transfixed. I showed the bride the images and a huge smile spread across her face. “Are you a photographer?” she asked.

No, I wasn’t a photographer. I was just someone who’d stumbled across a chance to go one small step out of my way, and so discover the grand net that holds us all.

I spent the next several moments shooting pictures of this intimate moment, with this rose bower and these two people in love. As I did, I discovered what Teal always knew.

There is joy to be found when you care enough to help someone else.

“You made my day,” the bride told me as our impromptu photo shoot ended.

And they, in turn, made mine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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