The F Word

Posted on June 5, 2014 by kyra333

I want to talk about the F word. You know the one I mean, I used to use it all the time. Yes, I know it is seen as inappropriate in most every single circumstance. Oh wait, I can see from your face you think I am talking about that F word, Feelings, no not that one. Yes, Feelings are considered one of the F words for sure. People hate feelings; hate talking about them, hate feeling feelings both bad ones and even good feelings if they come at an inconvenient time. Depending on whom you date or are friends with you can be accused by your mate of being too emotional, of having to many Feelings. That is a major dis to make you feel needy. The reality of that is that our feelings are triggering feelings in the other person and making them feel uncomfortable. Thus they would like to shut that nonsense down right quick. But hey that is not the F word I am talking about today, today I am talking about the new other, other F word: Fine.

Most of the time when we are asked how we are we say, “I”m fine.” Not me. Usually I have an aversion to this F word. I respond, “so far so good”, “I feel like crap”, or something else reflective of how I feel, so more often than not people understandably don’t ask. Most folks ask how we are as if it as an extension of “hello” and it means nothing, they don’t really want to know. On the other hand, people who say they are Fine when answering that question are generally lying. It goes back to Monty Python’s Holy Grail movie scene where the knights are sword fighting and one chap is whittled down to a stump still screaming at his opponent, “it‘s only a flesh wound.” That is the visual I get when someone says they are Fine. It is generally uttered with a sigh or through tight lips, none of those tones or gestures demonstrates being fine in any shape or form. “Fine” is is a deflection, a minimizer, a neutral way of saying “can we move on from me now?” That deflection also disconnects us from each other and ourselves, minimizing and shutting down what is. Whatever it is, it came the surface and to be for a reason. You can only avoid so long before things manifest in an ugly fashion.

I am not advocating telling the entire world how you are really are unless of course you are Kim Kardashian. The teller in the bank does not need to know you are having some red, scaly, itchy issues south of the border or that you are sorry you tried the tuna surprise at the diner for lunch because generally tuna does not come with tiny antennas. What I am suggesting is that when a friend, a loved one, a confidant asks you how you are they really might want to know. They might want to hear about how you truly are instead of some fictionalized version of what you hoped they would want to hear. If you don’t want to talk about it, well you can say that too. We have that prerogative unless we live in a hostile environment and I am not talking about The Housewives of Trailer-park Glam somewhere either. I am an adult, not grown up mind you that is overrated, but an adult which means I get to use my big-girl words and tell my truth. It does not have to be anyone else’s but it is mine, and people can do with it what they choose, that is their freedom as an adult.

People either step closer when we show them who we are or step away. Those are always the two options available. By not showing people who we are we diminish and undermine ourselves and how wonderful, weird and magical we truly are. By only show the pretty, the good, the normal, and the perfect we set ourselves and everyone within our touch up for failure. Let me just say this, normal and perfect are fiction. And if they were not fiction, would you want to sit next to someone who is normal and perfect at a wedding? Of course you wouldn’t want to. I cannot think of anything as boring, beige and frankly creepy as what normal or perfect would translate into… that has a creep factor of a trillion.

When someone tells me they are fine, mostly I hear the translation and it’s an acronym: FINE = F@*%ed Individual Needs Escape. The acronym generally aligns with their energy, demeanor or juju they are giving off as they tell me how “fine” they are. What I am really hearing from them is “Jane, get me off this crazy thing!” That said, I am never sure whether to address what they say or the great blast of “I am soooooooo not fine” creeping crud they are emitting. This is not a true Emily Post conundrum; not nearly as bad as having your shoes and belt mismatched or the wearing white after Labor Day debacle, so I generally muddle through. I don’t understand it though. I fought my whole life to be able to tell the truth, be who I was, talk or don’t talk, to do what felt best. To be okay with whatever or whoever I was at any given moment, to truly love my inner bowl of light, my essence, my humanity regardless of my semi-issue with bloating. Self-reflection is a wonderful tool in working toward Willie’s words; “To thine own self be true.” I think we need to steer home, to begin looking within and consider dropping our veils in order to be true and real or we run the risk of not being at all. And yes, I did just quote George Jetson and Shakespeare in one paragraph to make my point, like you didn’t already know I am just that kind of girl. Come on folks, embrace the good F words the ones we bejewel our middle fingers for and let the rest go.

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Choose the Pie!

Posted on January 19, 2014 by kyra333

We, as a culture like choices, options: we love restaurants with 27 page menus, multiplex theaters with 20 movies going 20 hours a day, we can be a fireman or a ballerina, there are a plethora of choices of pie, the freedom to do what we want when we want. These are all things I love and hold dear to my little black heart. The reality of this is however, we only have two choices. We can choose things out of love or out of fear. What is our intent? Those are the first two branches that divide off the trunk of the tree of life. Making decisions out of love looks like making choices out of excitement, curiosity, a desire to do more and better, it is expansive and makes us feel great. Then there is making choices out of fear, which can look like anger, wanting to be nice/ liked/loved or accepted, even avoidance. Making choices from fear can sound like, “If I don’t do blank something bad happens.” I also know that not doing something out of fear is the same as doing it out of fear, same choice and far more insidious because it goes under the guise of virtue sometimes. Fear is contractive it makes us smaller, twists us up, and shuts us off and down. When we make a choice out of fear we generally feel awful afterward, like we were beat with a bag of oranges to slight flu symptoms. I know I have said this all before but like a myna bird with a limited lexicon it bears repeating. Our intent in doing, or not doing, anything determines the success of the action, interaction and the quality of our life.

I try in the moment and certainly at the end of the day to assess my intent in relationship to my actions and how they turned out. What felt good, what felt bad and what those events were tied to. Self-reflection is my weapon of choice when it comes to intent along with tuning into my body and what it is saying. I can remember how it felt to make a choice based on a fear response and one from love, this is empirical data. It points me to my values, mission, purpose and destiny if I choose to listen to it. The key word is listen, go back if need be, but look and assess what the triggers and circumstances were to the perceived successes and failures of the day, week, year.

FDR said “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the assessment that something else is more important than fear.”  The term “more important” can be anything from expressing ourselves and saying what is our truth to entering a writing contest, relationship, moving, jumping into the great unknown of any situation and trusting in ourselves and the divine to support and love us in our adventure of exploration. Life is exploration; it is experiential, learning from doing. Then being contemplative about what we have done. Most of all it is doing it with others, exploring relationships, sharing, fighting, being disappointed or disappointing others but being in it and growing and learning.   If we are saying “no”, and making ourselves smaller we are sitting on the sidelines kibitzing about what others are doing. That is a form of busy work that makes us feel like we are living without getting dirty with the actual mess of life. We are hiding, usually under a mask of our making, but hiding none the less.

Years ago toward the end of an ugly downward spiral I pulled on my big girl panties and went to see a therapist to get some help. After two or three sessions with her she said I sounded like I was on the right track and we could wrap things up. After the session I gave the play by play to my sister Chris who informed me I needed to come clean with the therapist. Chris knows me, knows I am a clever girl and I know what to say to put others at ease, what jargon to use to present in a certain way, here to the therapist as sane, safe and whole. None of which was true. In fact it was so far from true that my skills in misdirection could make me a successful politician or televangelist… same thing really. I was lying to the therapist and myself. A great love of mine years ago once disclosed that he only lied to himself. His thinking was that he did not impact others in this. I pointed out to his brilliant 161 IQ brain that when we lie to ourselves we lie to the world. We forget that when we lie to ourselves we are doing it out of fear, good golly miss molly lies are born of fear. If we are lying, whether by omission or our lips are moving, we are doing it out of fear. So needless to say Chris told me to go back to the therapist and tell the truth. I did and spent the next year and a half unraveling the root of that particular kind of crazy that was born of fear.

 The subject of white lies comes up in the form of the fear of hurting someone’s feelings. Here is what I have to say about that. If I ask a friend “does this dress/pair of pants/motorcycle make my ass look big?” and they say no because they don’t want to hurt my feelings they are not doing me any favors. What’s more they have lied to me out of fear of hurting my feelings so that others in the great unwashed can. I go into the world and people who don’t know or love me say unkind things or treat me like I don’t own a full length mirror leaving me feeling betrayed and mistrustful. I would rather ugly things come to light in private and have a friend say it rather than TMZ. As a friend we can say one of two things in telling the truth “oh yea it makes your ass look like a Macy’s Day balloon” or “That is not as flattering as other dresses/pants/motorcycles you own.” We can couch the truth in a way that is wholly true and as kind as possible so that our audience can hear it. Don’t bury it in sugar so it is unrecognizable either, that again is lying. People who know me know not to ask me a question unless you want the truth. I am not a girl who will lie to you; in fact it is difficult for me to keep my trap shut when someone is lying to me or themselves. I have a physical reaction. It’s a combination of using a cheese grater on my brain and eating a box of tacks while listening to them. I warn newcomers in my life: do not ask me anything if you don’t want the truth meaning my truth, which is all any of us have really.

Our choices show people who we are, what we do rather than what we say defines us. Our intent is what drives that, our choice in response based on love or fear. Engaging and dancing with the unknown despite the fear because there are more important things than fear. Look back at what you were scared of at age 15, 25, 35, 45 how much of what you were afraid of came to pass? Looking at my life I would say 99% did not come to fruition. I was afraid of ghosts, of things that never happened and when they did how much of it was out of my manifestation, focus or self-sabotage? That time spent avoiding, lying and inaction springing from fear was a waste of years in my life when I add it up.

 My youngest sister Amy passed away six and a half years ago and her death taught me more about life than anything else I have experienced. Things I carry with me daily, two of which are what a bad day looks like. I can tell you it is not traffic, it is not being too fat to get into my jeans or a loss of a job or a love. Those things suck but there is recovery and learning. Dying is about learning, no recovery there folks. The other thing I carry daily is I want to a make a fabulous mess of my life in the best possible way however scary it is. I have found that living an unlived life is a crime against nature. Amy would have done anything for one more day, anything. What I am saying by choosing fear, by not trying, or doing, or being vulnerable to love and capricious nature of the world is that I am essentially dead. It has not been easy to live choosing love, which can make me vulnerable, but having spent a dozen years afraid to make a mistake, be unlovable, or look like a prat was more painful than I have ever felt so choosing love is a piece of pie and I do love pie.

 

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Sojourn

Posted on January 3, 2014 by kyra333

I have been on a sojourn of sort these past many months getting ready to write a new book, which is why I have not been blogging. Ready meaning there was research, meditation which looks a lot like napping, journaling, getting Reiki with the brilliant Jessica, and generally speaking taking a walkabout. I think I am winding down but I am not sure about even that being true. You see most of this was and is fuzzy; as all off-road adventures are there is no map you work by the stars. Like other off-road adventures this had lots of uncertainty, fear, bad hair days, debate, tests of faith, physical, emotional and spiritual wounds abound. Now that this phase is over I am left waiting, not my strong suit as those who know me know. It is pure crazy making for someone who is a doer. Nonetheless I am doing my best, which is as Tom Robbins said, “All a person can do in this life is gather about him his integrity, his imagination, and his individuality – and with these ever with him, out front and in sharp focus, leap into the dance of experience.”

So here I am waiting, percolating over what is and how to proceed. The problem with that is this is not a problem for my intellect, not a strategy, not something to think through at all.  Alas. Thinking is my first language; logic comes easy. My head, however tiny it may be is packed with tons of fascinating tidbits like a cocktail party at a pork belly convention. My brain being this self-involved entity, ergo ego, it is also a bossy Betty thinking it always knows best, first and always making bossy Betty a liar. She will rationalize with intellectual ease deftly turning light to dark, good to evil and transforming a 2 hour walk on the beach into a BLT on a donut.

Like most people, I learned to take my cues from my external environment. I listened to parents, teachers, friends, bosses, and lovers, as well as other varieties of gurus, preachers, yogis, politicians, the Kardashians, everyone except myself. I understand that what kept us alive as cavemen were our instincts, intuition, listening to our bodies and their response to fear, hunger, even curiosity. Listening kept us safe, fit and provided knowledge and growth, all natural states of wellness. Don’t get me wrong; logic, intellectual reasoning, and critical thinking helped us move forward without doubt. It is not however, the truest tool in our arsenal and we forget that. I know I do. When I am holding a fabulous hammer everything looks like a nail. I forget the power of looking within, getting quiet and listening to myself. True, the brain chatter is deafening almost always but with practice, discipline, compassion for myself in how much I suck at it and the skill it takes to herd hummingbirds I get to the stillness. In that stillness comes a knowing, a deep response to an internal signal to move forward, take action, begin to dance.

These dances start slowly almost always, ungainly and self-conscious of who is watching or am I doing it right but I try to bring my focus back to the feeling. Yes the “F” word–I am using it here damn it. I try to tune out the external, the other, and focus on the way things feel—not emotionally mind you but feel in my body. Sure my limbs are akimbo at first but soon melt in a herky-jerky fashion to something more fluid, real, and true. There is a surety of movement, a light of passion and finally joy. Joy simple and pure springs from within it is not found in the external it wells up from deep. It comes forth from our internal landscape and connection. In our alignment of mind, body and spirit and creates this crazy solid base of feeling at peace with what is no matter what is. I know, I know this is major airy-fairy shite going on here, but there is not a proper way to explain this in words. It is like trying to describe what orange looks like to someone who is blind. Words are inadequate and create a trite, cartoony facsimile of what is. That is why the Universe provided us with Art. To show not tell, this is the next iteration of that exercise to feel not think. Again I am not talking about our emotions but the reaction of our body to what is going on. It is our internal guidance system.

There are no written directions for this system, no big talk about it like puberty with models, picture books, or filmstrips. (Remember those?) No classes in school to help us to trust ourselves and go within for our answers. In fact school teaches just the opposite, but I won’t jump on that soap box right now as you will have to beat me bloody and tie me to the bumper of a Humvee to get me down. My lovely sister Chris and I were talking about trusting ourselves and she asked, “What does that look like?” She wanted me to give her a real example. Come on, we know people talk about it over hemp tea and gluten free scones but what does that really mean for the rest of us who eat fine pork products and drink single malt scotch? What it means is from my modicum of experience is this: when I am feeling stressed I look to the physical sensations that are happening in my body. For me my stomach is churning and my chest feels like an anvil with the word “Acme” printed on it is parked there. For you, it might feel like your shoulders have lurched up to your ears so you look a lot like Richard Nixon, or your jaw is clenched and so are your fists. It is the red zone, reactive and really scary.  That means your body is saying, and has been saying for quite a while, in its most eloquent way. “This is not good; this does not feel good. Step away. Take a breath before you A.) Stroke out keeling over giving all those in the vicinity the view of your ill-fitting beige spanks; B.) Go all Kanye/Alec Baldwin on unsuspecting bambi-bystanders; C.) Withdraw creating an elaborate revenge scheme in your mind complete with dialog, sets, costume design, lighting, etc. to rival Les Misérables all the while slowly dying inside becoming a shell; D.) All the above.

The truth is my body was warning me long before the world got a view of me and my behavior that it has to wash out of its brain with a mix of Clorox and steel wool. At the trigger point, the point where things started to feel icky I needed to stop and take a breath and pay attention to what was off. What felt wrong, what did not match up with my expectations, beliefs, knowledge, or truth? That is the yellow zone, and that is where we want to make the catch, not in the orange and certainly not in the red. Hitting the red zone is awful and feels like we are out of control because we are. We are reacting instead of responding, big difference. Shiva the destroyer/transformer comes in and lays waste in our life in a very unflattering way. When we hit a maximum of being disconnected from ourselves, when our life and our choices are reflecting the needs/beliefs/visions of others above ourselves, the life we lead is a hot mess and so are we.

By standing at the wheel and waiting I am not not doing anything. I am listening, listening so closely that is hurts sometimes in the stillness. There is a cacophony of people around giving me direction, wanting something; there are others who know me well who are watching me closely like a Betty Crocker angel food cake trying to see if I am done. They know about waiting, they know about listening, they know about patience and sometimes hate it too. When the time comes there is no thinking it is this pulse of knowing, and then I don’t know why I didn’t see it or do it all along. Like the veil being lifted or a door opening where there once was a wall.  It is automatic, organic and instantaneous it just happens and I am moving. The wind up is the nerve-wracking part where bossy Betty and all the other minions in my head are fretting, analyzing and wanting to put their rusty old gummy two cents in. Thanks but no thanks. I know that, like all good sojourns, this is temporary and soon enough I will be writing that book, making that trip, falling in love and filling in whatever that next blank is. I just have to trust in myself and keep listening all the while walking beaches, finding succulent dim sum, filling the bird feeder, taking naps and drinking that dark smoky single malt scotch. You see waiting does not mean I stop living, quite the opposite, it means I wait and live with passion, purpose and an open heart.

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What did I just do?

Posted on March 23, 2013 by kyra333

Every once in a while I wonder why I have a splitting headache; For relief I try taking a walk, reading, wine and then whine… to no avail. Finally it occurs to me to put down the hammer I have been bashing my skull in with, pick up a pen and journal. I stop, and pause to write about what I did, what I said, what I ate and sometimes even what I felt about the whole mess. I reflect. In doing so I am able to see and understand my behavior, choices, and unseen options at the time and sometimes learn. When I rush through my days, weeks and sometimes years without doing so it is like trying to drive with a burlap bag over your head, it is not only dumb as a box of rocks but very uncomfortable. Self-reflection can also be uncomfortable at times, at least if you are me. Looking at any given event, project or conversation I see where I was a perfect ass, and not in a good way. I see where I assumed something to be true because the situation or person reminded me of another place and time so I jumped ahead and bungled things. I also see what I did well, where I was kind and what I want to do more of.

Deconstructing an event, a conversation, a class, a project or failed love life always garners valuable information. You get the good, the bad, the really stupidly bad and of course the ever popular what did I just do? It is a wonderful opportunity to learn from your mistakes, leverage off your strengths and do better next time. We can see what worked, what we will keep, what needs tweaking and what to throw in ditch off route 40 at high speed wearing a wig. Taking the time to look at your day or week on a regular basis gives us the opportunity to grow and change in a self-directive way. We are choosing to be an active participant of the change in our lives. Change is constant, we evolve or devolve. Those are our options, the direction is up to us. We can choose to pull off the burlap sack of denial and look at our internal and external landscape and then go forward. One thing we will see when we pull that nasty ol’ thing off is a ton of cosmic crap folks ahead of us jettisoned out their windows that no longer fit.

Below is an exercise I have developed to help with self-reflection the only thing you have to lose is an itchy, smelly burlap bag.

Self-Reflection Tool

*This exercise can be adapted to a solo endeavor, but to truly reap the benefits it should be done with a partner. Partnering does not have to be in person as much of it can be done by email or phone. However, the brainstorming part should, at the very least, be done over the phone as it is a highly dynamic phase of the exercise which benefits from the alchemy of a verbal interchange and what that brings to the party. I recommend reading through the exercise a few times prior to working with your partner. Most importantly, know there is no wrong way to do this exercise, it is all good and a learning process, so relax and get curious.

Self-Reflection is a powerful way to deepen our learning, not only of our world but also of who we are and how we fit into that world. As we reflect on our day, week or life we can see patterns in our behavior and the result of the choices we have made. If we take the time to look, we can see what skills, tools and traits led to accomplishments and successes. We can also see areas in which we are challenged, sometimes over and over again. In being self-reflective, hindsight has the potential to give us valuable information for the next time we are at bat again. The reality of life is that we always get another chance to choose differently, learn a new skill, shore up a weak one, or take another whack at something.

By working with a partner on this exercise we gain many things. Firstly, we have to vocalize an accomplishment and a challenge therefore bringing focus and clarity to an arena where success and challenges reside. This step creates an opportunity to stop, think, quantify and qualify an event in a thoughtful way. In doing this we start by working with something real, concrete and tangible. This is powerful because as we go and apply different behaviors to similar events going forward, success can be measured.

Next, we see that in brainstorming with a partner we step outside our ‘box’ or natural thought process and beliefs, which means we open ourselves to look at something from another person’s perspective. This enables us to gather more information as to where we might be stuck in a pattern, operating from a limited belief system, or not using a particular skill set. We can also see, on the other end of the spectrum, where we are strong and capable in our skills, tools and choices, therefore being able to leverage on those that we might not have recognized without someone pointing them out to us. It is not uncommon that when we do something exceedingly well that it feels natural so we place little importance on it. That is called a gift and by all means use it anyway you can to move through your life.

Lastly, by marrying an action to this process we not only become accountable to someone besides ourselves, but we move forward in some way. On a side note, most of us are terrible at being accountable to ourselves and the specter of an observer to our process is a great motivator! In addition to bringing in an action to go with our learning, we also attach a timeline to this concrete deliverable that not only deepens our learning, but also empowers us to be an agent for change in our own lives. Self-Reflection is a way to process our behavior in a way were we learn from it and in doing this we build skills using elements of critical thinking and self-awareness. This gives us the ability to lead self-directed lives, and what’s better than that?

Questions:

Make a note of one task you did well this week, an accomplishment or outcome you were pleased with.

Make a note of one task that did not go as well as you would have liked this week.

Identify a character trait, skill or tool you used in each example. Be honest with yourself, not doing so inhibits your learning.

Choose a partner or peer to share your tools/skills that made you successful in your one task and brainstorm with your partner on how to improve tools or skills on your other task.

Identify one improvement you will try over the next week. Commit to your partner what and when you will do it; agree to call or email them when you have implemented the improvement.

What other areas of your life could benefit Self-Reflection and this process and how so?

How can you add this process to your life on a regular basis?

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Meet my Little Fat Man

Posted on February 9, 2013 by kyra333

Years ago my friend Michael made a mean martini, incredibly dry; in fact all he would do is open the bottle of vermouth next to the gin glass. That was it. Michael was an athletic, funny, sweet, easy-going guy most of the time. Most, being the operative word there. Sometime around the third martini, if he indulged he became a little snarkier.  The sarcasm had a harder edge, not mean but sharp.   This happened very rarely but the next day over lots of coffee he would say that his “Little Fat Man” came out. He was the first person I knew to name his dark side or his Inner-Asshole.

We all have them, Little Fat Men and we can manifest them at any time or anywhere given the right circumstances.  The lead up to my IA or as I prefer LFM coming out is Ms. Cranky-pants making an entrance first, she is like the scout for the tribe of bad behavior. I try to pay attention to what circumstances occur that create the perfect storm where I go from cranky to my Little Fat Man mouthing off but sometimes it’s hard to catch it until it’s too late. Some of the many factors can be over-worked, over-whelmed, under-fed, under-rested, stretched too thin and being purely reactive from a less than balanced place.  A less than balanced place translates to Crazy Town where Rita-resentment, Edna-entitlement, Vicky-victim, Captain Control live to name a few. Lots of folks spend their lives from a spot like this and in my past I have as well. It has taken lots of hard work and self-reflection to move to a more balanced and centered place. That being said it does not mean the Little Fat Man doesn’t make semi-regular appearances, however we are no longer engaged and living together contrary to what TMZ is reporting.

Recently he came for a visit, the longest I have had from him in a bit; it was a little over two days. The signs were all there, Ms. Cranky pants was popping up at regular intervals at work and screaming like a banshee in my head. Driving with her as she ramps up is like having a foul mouthed trucker on meth as a co-pilot.  I tried to reel her in, to gain some control but what I know is when I try to gain control over what is going on and white knuckle it I spin out. Tighter is never the correct answer here, looser always is but I don’t always see it as things start to slide, not till I hit the dirt on the tail end. What always works is releasing my grip and giving up trying to make things work. I need to just take a breath, a step back and let it go. I am not a brain surgeon and the consequences of my actions don’t result in life or death on a daily basis so really, WTF?

The problem is I cannot always see the forest with all those fricken trees! The end result was a houseguest.  The LFM came to stay this weekend just in time for a training event with more than 60 tutors, among other things. Yea, me! I was fully aware of the work load at the beginning of a semester and all that goes into it had been part of what was his ugly entre.  I try to go through my bag of tricks to reset or reframe where I am to shift to a better place. Walking on the beach or exercise, mediation, spending time with folks I love and make me laugh but doing all those things this weekend just pissed the little bastard off more.  Then I tried cooking, napping, reading, watching bad TV and still nada.  As Joe Walsh said “it’s hard to leave when you can’t find the door.” The desire to get to a better place is real, the need or want to stay right in the ick is also real. I had to look at my reasons to stay stuck and if I was done with my tantrum yet.

For a Little Fat Man he is a stealthy bastard, he can slip away as you pull back the curtain to get a better look. I hate myself when I am sarcastic, snarky or an ass. Hating that part of me adds fuel to his fire but sometimes being him feels good. Reacting like an ass in any given situation can feel like a relief, like scratching an itch.  As soon as the comment is out of my mouth and has landed however- it feels awful. I feel the impact of my action and then self-loathing adds to the LFM’s party. These are not nice things to say about myself but they are true, they are human and they are real… if only for me. Looking at why’s, as to why that feels good, in that moment for the lash out is the key and the fuel that fires the Little Fat Man. If we don’t look at our darkness and embrace all of who we are and in doing so tracing the threads of our behavior back to the origin or belief system that no longer serves  us or is sabotaging our lives, we are destine to repeat it. That is what is meant by living an unconscious life, what that looks like is using your Little Fat Man for PR then marrying him without a prenup. Yikes!

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Baby Tough

Posted on January 1, 2013 by kyra333

“I believe in you so much I could die from the words that you say”

-Dashboard Confessional

Many people are not familiar with the term Baby Tough. It was born on a Christmas day some 5 or 6 years ago in Portland, Oregon. There was no manger or baby Jesus, but there was inclement weather and some wandering about. There was also a degree of deafness, or on another level, someone not being heard. I am the deaf one, and having been tested, again, this past summer it was confirmed, again, that some pricey hearing aids might be in my future, to go along with the lip reading I am doing now. Or, I can just keep nodding yes when people ask me things I don’t understand and wind up with yet another pet lama. That Christmas day, my long term beau and I were wandering about in a cold gray misty rain. At the time Portland was under consideration for my move out west. The spitting cold weather was how San Diego won, hands down.  My beau, a delicate flower of a man, being an avid athlete had no body fat to keep him warm and I was fretting he was uncomfortable. I asked to see how frozen he was and he replied not to worry he was “Navy tough.” What I heard however, was “Baby Tough.” We laughed pretty hard at that, both of us knowing it was closer to the truth.

I believe most human beings have three things in common. We want to be seen, we want to be heard and we want to know that we matter. There are times when, even though I really try to listen, and am hearing what someone is saying, I still don’t hear the person.  And I know that people around me have had the same experience. I grew up in a house where if my feelings got hurt and I let it be known, or I expressed a need or want I was shut down. Using my words was not welcome in my home.  I don’t think I am alone in my twisty flawed logic on love, self-worth and this legacy of seen but not heard, but that is not the point. The point is: as much as I wanted to hear what that man had to say I didn’t. What is equally important is that I learned down the road that I also needed the freedom to say what I wanted and needed and to be heard.

My childhood taught me that I would be punished for expressing my needs; my parents would withdraw affection and attention, essentially ignoring my existence.  Being compliant and going along meant I was loved, which was a strong incentive for me. If one of my parents disappointed or hurt me, my saying anything would result in excommunication. Unfortunately, I continued to reinforce this belief in my adulthood, so I sometimes chose other people to act as my parent’s proxies when my parents were no longer part of my life on a daily basis. Nope, I am not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

As an adult I came to understand that my folks felt overwhelmed and judged by me asking for my needs to be met, even though, as we know, that is what a child does. But my folks had fragile psyche’s, both of them coming from homes with no role models.  And even though I was asking, not telling them, they saw me as judging or perhaps even trying to change them. Really, I just wanted to be heard and know I mattered. Expressing a want or need is not an act of emotional terrorism.  Any relationship needs a good level of communication and negotiation but these were not tools my folks were adept at so pushing me away was the easiest form of relationship management. It took a long time for me to see that sometimes when we express our needs that those around us can take it as criticism, and are hurt by our words.

I know that to be true because, I have had those I love express their needs or hurt feelings to me and it hurt like hell. Was it my intention to hurt them? Generally not, most of the time I am oblivious to my transgressions unless they are pointed out to me. When my “bad” behavior is pointed out, my first stop on the crazy bus is, “I am a horrible person and a colossal f-up. The second stop on the CB Express is, “You are such a pain in the ass, and I am tired of dealing with people.” Then, the pendulum swings back and forth, again and again. It finally settles when I put the comment into context and look at what expectations were set and my part of the miscommunication, and we go forward from there, or not. This can take minutes or years, depending on my partner in crime.  What I do know is that not saying what I need, in any relationship, leads to resentment and an implosion because nobody can be aware of their impact on me without me using my words.  Punishing someone for something they don’t know they’ve done only robs them of the chance to address it. It is like playing a game with someone who you don’t tell the rules to and getting mad when they don’t play right.

On another note, I am not interested in changing anyone. I have enough crazy with what I have growing in my own backyard, thank you very much. I trust those around me to let me know what they need and want when it comes to our relationship. My job is not to read minds or guess, they have words and it is their responsibility, as it is mine, to use those words. When younger, I wouldn’t do that and I would get furious with people for taking advantage of me, for the way they hurt my feelings and for lots of other grave transgressions. The first part of that bad is: nobody does anything to us that we don’t take part in or give permission to, after the first time a transgression is done. The second part of that bad is: I didn’t realize that not telling someone how I felt was setting him or her up for failure. When my anger got too big I would either explode all over them, recounting every past bad deed, or walk away. As I got older I realized I was doing to others what my parents had done to me. Yes projection is a twisty tool in this play too; we forget that sometimes what we dislike most in others is rooted in ourselves.

Now, if I want someone to know how I feel, I tell them in as kind a way as I can. It is still a terrifying prospect and causes major anxiety, because history shows that some folks will still walk away from me, deciding life is better without an exuberant redhead. I need to honor where they are, and let it go. I also probably suck at expressing myself and being vulnerable, but life for me is about practice and trying to get better. It is also about being authentic.  I get mixed results in expressing the good, the bad and the crazy: some folks deflect it, some ignore it, and some folks even leave, but most folks agree to talk about what is going on and try to find a middle ground. What I know is, if I don’t express why I am mad or hurt I don’t give the other person a chance to show up for me, to fix or reject what is happening. They don’t have to do anything but hear me, see me and maybe let me know I matter. I can do the same in return for them as best I can. Not doing this fragile, vulnerable dance means that personal relationships only get about as deep as a Frisbee. And we know that personal relationships are meant to be messy, joyous, painfully chaotic waves that crash into us on a daily basis. It is not like I have not played all the roles in this twisted little play, I have, and it makes me all too aware of my short comings. But I manage to find strength in that each time I step out I try my best. What I know now is that in reality, all of us are only Baby Tough. We all are thin-skinned, hopeful and terrified that we might be seen, heard and know that we matter… talk about a crazy making system, huh?

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Santa, Michael Jackson and the Miracle Martini Shaker

Posted on December 17, 2012 by kyra333

Well there’s a lot of hub-bub this time every year about the fat man and his role in the holiday season. No, I’m not talking about Al Roker, jeez he got the gastric by-pass done. I’m talking about the other fat man, Santa and whether he really exists. Yes, I know Virginia, at a certain age someone let it slip and you lost your childhood innocence and I am not talking about behind the bleachers in high school with Jimmy-No-GPA. I am talking about our belief in Santa, a long time ago when we were small and Christian Santa existed. We loved the fact that there was mystery and anything could happen. We believed in his magic and all that was good and true. Unfortunately, we were then told that what we believed to be good and true was actually Wal-Mart, which turns out is not so good or true. I am here to say that Wal-Mart is the lie, and Santa is a busy guy so don’t believe in that bad press.

So, hearing that Santa is not responsible for much of Christmas is blatantly untrue. Yea, yea, yea the fiscal cliff has him dialed back on the gift giving this year, it’s no surprise the DCers are getting coal and luggies in their stockings. Even the Twinkie Elves are crashing and its true Santa’s deal with Sony and Target fell through. Regardless he still maintains the same PR push of Peace on Earth and Good Will Toward Men, etcetera. He is a good guy who has his challenges; he numbs with food but has a solid base and a strong message. He is not going anywhere.

On a side note: “adult,” “grown-up” and all those titles are cracked up to be is mostly crap. Besides being able to eat candy and cold pizza for breakfast and having a driver’s license, you got nada. Look, I am 51, and I am a responsible adult, but by no means grown-up. Being a “grown-up” dictates you should behave in a certain way–no thanks. You can pry my bubbles, crayons and pick-up sticks out of my cold dead hands when I am gone. I also prefer to keep my sense of wonder about the world and to continue making play a priority on my to do list. I will continue to jump in puddles, double-dare those around me to do silly things, and make crank calls to my mother.   I understand I may not pass this way again and frankly, with my memory I might not remember this moment past that next traffic light.

This is not the first time the “adults” in our lives lied to us. In fact, adults perpetrate mass fraud on a daily basis. Look at “Happily Ever After” and the “Prince or Princess Charming” phenomenon.  Hey, we know royalty has to poop and at times they leave the seat up, so in the middle of the night, in the dark, you find yourself in a splash down. I am not saying true love doesn’t exist. I am saying the PR we were sold as to the nature of true love, was a lie. True love does exist but it is human, nutty, gassy and wonderful. It is for us to see all of who that person is and love them and not just the storybook part.

Another lie put out there is that stuff matters, material goods. Well part of that is true according to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs; we need shelter, food, etc. that is all fine and good. A McMansion on a secluded south west facing lot with French classic, neo-cosmopolitan furniture overlooking an avocado grove does not always up the happy factor in one’s life however. It means you need lots of stuff to put in said McMansion, have people take care of it, secure it, and you work harder to keep it. That means long days at the office, maybe weekends away from that house you thought would bring the happy, sense of success or belonging. Then you need longer more exotic vacations to rest from the overtime, and then come back and work harder to afford the vacation and live in the “happy” house… kind of sounds like a gerbil on a wheel huh? The lie of what success looks like is just one of many.

Smaller, but more insidious lies that are perpetuated are lies like arugula is real, unlike Santa may I say. Nope, arugula is whatever weed is growing closest the back kitchen door at whatever restaurant you are eating at. No one really knows what arugula looks like past it being leafy, green stuff. It became popular because people liked saying it, so Dole and others packaged it. They can weed the real veggies and sell us arugula at an upcharge, just brill.

Another one of these perpetuated lies is that Wildebeests are real. Nope, fiction. They are not a real animal but rather a fine product of Disney. The reverse is true for jackalopes they are real; you can’t swing a dead jackalope without hitting, ugh, well another one in the western climes. We take so much at face value, just because someone who’s tanned, unlined and seemingly trustworthy shows up on the screen of our choice and says so. Come on, we know real life is stranger than fiction! The best example of that is when Lisa Marie Presley married Michael Jackson—who was another Disney product, though less successful. They went through many revisions and still never could get a fully functional production model.

All I am saying is: we dismiss things like magic and miracles, which I believe are nothing more than faith and magic shaken up in a giant martini shaker, for lots of hard and fast limits. We choose rules, should’s, stringent criteria, material possessions, cold logic and posh weeds over infinite wonder, imagination, and love. How’s about we shift our focus to things we believed to be true before we got some “sense?” Things like angels, dragons and cute, comfortable shoes really exist. That we can have fun being almost anywhere with anyone if we bring the right attitude. That we can be or do anything we want as long as we work hard. Helpful is better than hurtful in any situation. That doing nothing in particular is very important. That mac ‘n’ cheese, not the fancy kind, but the toxic orange powder box stuff rules! That just because I can’t see it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. That Trolls do live under bridges and frequent corner pubs at 2am. That most importantly that we are truly loved.

Happy Holidays all!

XOX

Kyra

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This is Embarrassing

Posted on December 7, 2012 by kyra333

It occurred to me at the gym today, a place where I do some of my best, if not sweaty, thinking, that I have not embarrassed myself in a long time. Something was afoot; I am someone who has spent her life embarrassing herself on a regular basis all the while trying to avoid that very thing.  I puzzled on this insight rather than look at the time left on the bike/elliptical/knee splitter I was toiling away on. After some thought I realized that my level of what embarrasses me has diminished over these past few years. At the time I was not sure if that is good or bad. Let me give you an example of a recent incident that would have made me very self-conscious and embarrassed not all that long ago. I was delivering a seminar at the state institution where I work, no not the high security type with nifty jumpsuits, but higher education.  My audience was undergraduates taking a class I support. We are talking 20- and a few 30-something’s with a mind’s eye on graduation. I was sharing hero stories to get them started on a self-reflection exercise. I shared a very personal moment in my early education where instead of being tortured by teachers I was given praise.  As an undiagnosed dyslexic, the first 3 years of school for me were awful because of the constant ridicule and punishment I received by my teachers, for work I was unable to do. I always choke up in telling the story about the child physiologist who treated me kindly and praised me. She changed my life. In telling my story in front of my students I did indeed choke up, my voice went raspy and tears pooled in my eyes. My students went from slightly fidgety to dead still and silent, all eyes on me. It wasn’t like, as Dane Cook says, “the silent moment that happens when daddy slaps mommy at the dinner table,” but rather something very different. It was what happens when we witness someone having a genuine raw moment, where we can see exactly what they, or in this instance me, were feeling. I was vulnerable. Add to that equation that I am older and an authority figure, and that ups the ante and therefore impact. We do not live in a culture where anyone, much less authority figures, show vulnerability or any real emotions.

I knew going into telling this story that I might choke up, as I have never been able to tell it without doing so in the past. I have also never told the story in any public forum, so crying in a room full of folks was never on the table before. I deliver these seminars for my tutors twice each month. This was the first round and after the fact it seems I realized that I was okay with doing it again, because though it was slightly uncomfortable it was not in the least embarrassing, but rather empowering. I know, I know… that sounds way too bumper-sticker, hallmark channel, woo-woo, sharing circle, self-realization actualization pumped up guru gush mush. But sadly it is true. Being vulnerable as a result of telling a true story with high emotional content didn’t diminish me and show my weakness but rather it revealed my strength. The effect on what turned out to be two classes was profound for me. Both classes reacted the same way. Even though I joked with the second class and warned them what happened in the prior seminar, the disclosure did not lessen any of our reactions. The story, and my vulnerability while telling it, created a moment where everyone connected.

I have spent my life up until a few years ago running from my emotions, the messy and inconvenient bastards that they are, and therefore my humanity. I have gone so far as to avoid anything that would draw attention to me and embarrass me. Which we know makes us a magnet for such events. I died a thousand deaths emotionally because I was avoiding what was part of me. I created more heartache trying to avoid being vulnerable rather than just lean in to the abyss and fall through the looking glass. What I perceived as my weakness was nothing of the like. Nietzsche wrote, “The great epochs of life come when we gain the courage to re-christen our evil as what is best in us.”  Nietzsche tells us that by embracing what we fear most about ourselves, our shadow or as he says “evil,” we find our strength. This is the good stuff folks, like full fat eggnog. By being able to look into our darkness, our insecurities, and our depth is where we find grace.  This is what the gift of time, humility and an earnest desire to look within for change brings.

Granted this behavior has added to some bad hair choices on my part, but it also led me to quote Dane Cook and Nietzsche in the same piece to illustrate a point. I am not saying I won’t and don’t embarrass myself at all anymore, that is just tempting the Universe to pull some granny panties over my head on laundry day and march me around the town square with toilet paper dragging from my shoe. What I am saying is I try to lean into what makes me uncomfortable or is embarrassing for me all the while making eye contact with those around me. I believe that by doing this I can demonstrate how we can connect on a deeper level in what makes us human: our vulnerability, especially if I have spinach on my teeth. How embarrassing…

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Breathe

Posted on November 19, 2012 by kyra333

I am a counselor. I have had many titles in this field some of which are School Counselor, Life/Transition/Interview Coach, Intuitive/Grief Counselor, friend, cheerleader, confident and pain in the ass. I do all of these things exceedingly well. Much of what I do is listen, ask questions, give support and make people feel safe, heard and sometimes loved. I do this as easily as I breathe; I don’t think I just do what comes naturally so I rarely give it value. That is what we all do. What comes easily, innately and without thought is generally a natural resource, a gift. For my sister Chris one of her gifts is in parenting and it is on the savant level, though she says it’s more like the “idiot savant.”

I use this space, this column to talk about me, my challenges, victories and general oddness. I share the dark and the light. I believe we are more alike than not, so in sharing I hope that folks see their own struggles, foibles and joys. Some of what I write is for pure entertainment, some for education and I am sure the last piece is ego. Though talking about how I screw up on a daily basis does not always feel ego driven.  It feels like going to confession and the priest is shaking his head, sucking on his teeth and rolling his eyes. So here is my current dilemma… I have been asked to try to distill some of what I do in my one on one work with folks, in Walk N Talks, phone conferences and classes here in print. I don’t know how this will translate but I will try. I will try and put down my ‘breathing’ here for those who are interested. I will attempt to break what I know down in small steps, exercises, tips, strategies and rituals for those who asked.

“That which you manifest is before you.” Garth Stein

Since I started this piece with the word breathe let’s start there. I forget to do it all the time. I know that sounds wrong. You have to breathe it’s a requirement to living, but it is true. When I get nervous, am learning something new, in pain, trying to hold a pose in yoga or one in the dressing room while trying on bathing suits I hold my breath. That is the exact wrong thing to do in most circumstances baring you are underwater or your car pool buddies have a penchant for bean and onion burritos. Being calm, clear headed, relaxed is a far better place to make a decision from yet we rarely stop and breathe.  So in order to achieve those states give your noggin some air.

Grab a pen and a pad and write down a number between 1 and 10, of how you are feeling right now. 10 being very stressed i.e. gerbil on methamphetamines and 1 being the yogi-zen-corpse zone.  Stop; don’t think yourself there just feel. How does your body feel? Your head can be a lying bastard but your body does not lie, its true blue.  Ok after you write that number down, read these next few steps and try them as you read. You need to be sitting or lying down…not driving a car or operating machinery. If you do either of those things while reading anything I write you are a nut and are putting us other nuts in danger. Stop it.

Ok take a deep breathe through your nose to the count of 3. Hold that breathe for the count of 3. Now blow it out your mouth for the count of 3. Do that breathing repetition 4 more times. If you cheat and keep reading without doing it not only are you a spoilsport but also it’s not good juju. Write down where your stress level is now.  Hopefully it is a little lower. Your brain and body should be happy you weren’t stingy with oxygen for about 3 minutes. Nice work!

When do I use this simple breathing technique? I use it in yoga when the teacher reminds me, in traffic right after I start to give someone a non-sanctioned hand signal, when my caller ID flashes” Mother,” “American Express,” or  my sister, the grifter’s name. I use this technique when I first lay down in bed at night, when someone says they love or hate me, when I can’t think, speak or move because I am overwhelmed. Sometimes I just need one deep breath, and then I am good to go.  Other times I need a few rounds and often step away from the situation. I stop and breathe and do nothing but that… it is a way to find stillness, go within and center. I can do it anywhere for free and what it gives me is immeasurable.

Remembering to breath can be difficult.  Sometimes I am on the verge of a panic attack before I remember. Meantime my body has been screaming at me like a banshee to slow down.  But my head is a bigger bully. My head has been telling me to suck it up and move on. My head will surely kill me if I don’t listen to my body. It would be nice if you would listen to me on this point, but it is essential that you listen and trust your body.

There is an old story of three apprentice yogi’s talking about their masters. The first apprentice said his yogi master could sleep on a bed of nails without any bodily damage. The second apprentice boasted his yogi master could meditate for 24 hours straight without moving. The third apprentice smiled, knowing he had chosen the best of the yogis to study under. “My master,” he said “sleeps when he is tired, eats when he is hungry and breaths into adversity.”

The small steps I talk about are not difficult; remembering to use them is, as is placing value on what they offer. Finding balance in your mind, body and spirit leads to discovering your passion, your gifts, your authenticity and a joyful life. On the other hand crazy is as crazy does. If that is a clown car you have been riding around in pull it over, take a break and breathe. What have you got too loose besides the drama, stress and cotton candy?

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Measuring Small and Odd

Posted on November 10, 2012 by kyra333

Standing at a cash register the other day I asked the shopkeeper how earnest the meter people were on Saturdays. She had no definitive answer and basically said it was a crap shoot. I then mused out loud that it would be prudent for me to walk back to my car and move it to a new spot if my tire had been marked. The shop keep heaved a ginormous sigh and said “I hate that kind of thing, it’s so difficult.” I blinked at her thinking wasn’t I the one moving the car? I shrugged and replied “No a mammogram might be difficult moving my car is easy.” A woman behind me in line burst out laughing and I knew I had used the outside my head voice. Ugh… The shopkeeper shrugged and smiled looking chagrinned I am sure she was just being empathetic to my plight. The point, and not the one on my diminutive head, is there was no plight or difficulty. When did our measurement for woe become so small and odd?

The reality is a mammogram isn’t difficult either, it is a pain true but undiagnosed cancer falls under the difficult category. There is the line between inconvenient and difficult; I would hope there is a large gap between them. Walking back to my car I thought about my heritage the throngs of the great unwashed crossing deserts, prairies and seas. Those were lives that were difficult, arduous with not one decent pizza delivery option. As a side note here I am sure the reviews on Mannford’s Mutton House were written by his cousin Ezekiel because deep dish mutton mania is just so wrong… but I digress. I think somewhere our calibration got skewed; we need feedback in a system for it to right itself, even if we are that system. As examples we see how this works in the outside world with electrical or mechanical devices but it is also true of our bodies, minds and spirits. Feedback keeps most things true, and within what we deem an acceptable range of function.  Which means out of a clock tower with a high power rifle or clutching a handful of maxed out credit cards on the afternoon Black Friday.

The reality for me is a tough day at work is self-induced. We stress ourselves out or those around us try to do it by whipping us into a dogma fueled frenzy about what “should” be happening. This is true for most of us unless you are a doctor or someone who’s bad day results in damage to or loss of life, the rest of us have been sucked down the vortex of drama. I am not saying we should not have integrity about what we do or say, but rather making that integrity count in real context, not hype. In a context that might provide a true setting for feedback which is beneficial to our well-being. As an example years ago I worked in high-tech at a great company for a perfectly awful man. He would talk about how to denigrate other groups who performed similar functions during layoffs and how to smear co-workers reputations during out staff meetings. It was a profitable yet very toxic existence for me. During this period was the first time I had a panic attack, it happened at my desk. Thinking it was a heart attack I decided I would go out to my truck and have it there because that was less embarrassing. Now we are talking cuckoo cocoa puffs bad logic here, the feedback my body was telling me was true. My body was saying this job is hurting you. On the other end of the spectrum was the work/picture of success environment I was using for my measuring stick, which was telling me to walk it off and don’t make a fuss. Crazy is as crazy does…

So there is the dichotomy I had created for myself.  In my younger days I would have bought into the notion that moving an automobile was difficult verses my perceived heart/panic attack was an inconvenience. How can you get more skewed than that? It is hard to know what is worth our attention sometimes when our lives are so busy, but we hold the key to that schedule and the quality of our days. Using the feedback our bodies are giving us is the first step of coming into alignment where who we are and what we do match. Our core values are mirrored in how we move through our lives, how we treat ourselves and each other when nobody is watching. Essentially if you don’t like what is going on in your life on the outside it is time to look within. We are the root of our own evil, grace and ignorance and not looking at something doesn’t make it go away it just gets bigger.  I spent a lot of time on that ride home thinking about which yard stick was I using for my self-worth, relationships, my work as well as lots of other beliefs that turned out to be very small, odd things that needed to be re-parked in the trash.

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