The Body Knows

                                                                             c. Libby Mundy

Even when we can’t pinpoint what we want or what we need, at a cellular level, our body knows.  I think of a friend who has periodic episodes where she cannot stop vomiting (I know, no fun, right?) . . . and the doctors can’t seem to hone in on what is causing this.  But in knowing and talking to my friend, the flare-ups seem to occur whenever she is under a particular and significant amount of stress. Perhaps it is her body’s way of saying, “Slow down. Pay attention. We are off balance.  We need to figure out where our happy medium is please!!! Self-care SOS, fast and in a hurry!”

In a similar vein, I am reminded of my college years and early 20’s, when I tried to use food as a way of filling an emotional black hole of emptiness that no amount of peanut butter toast or chocolate chip cookies could ever sufficiently fill.  It wasn’t until I read the book Overcoming Overeating by Jane Hirschmann and Carol Munter that I learned that deprivation does not work and that to cure emotional eating, we need to get in touch with what we really need (non-negotiable), and what we really want (negotiable).  Sometimes the two are synonymous, sometimes they are not at all related, and sometimes just naming them is enough to then figure out what the right next step is.

Now you might be saying, “Yeah, I really do need a dozen or so chocolate chip cookies right now!”  But that’s a want. Or perhaps a need, disguising itself in semi-sweet chocolate when at its core it is really about self-love, self-respect and the courage to be who we really are (big, big stuff! . . . And I get it - sometimes the cookies are so much easier!! At least in the short-term . . .).   But let’s be honest, do you really want a dozen cookies or do you just say that because you tell yourself you should never, ever eat cookies because they aren’t good for you and besides, they make your butt look really big??  Therein lies the problem.  At least for me. 

  Photo courtesy of jenis.com

I don’t know about you, but if I tell myself I can’t have something, I want it all the more.  But, if I tell myself I can have it and I trust myself to listen to that craving, I go ahead and eat a couple cookies (or a Jeni’s Salted Caramel ice cream cone with my kids or an order of hot, salty French fries) . . . AND I GO ON WITH MY BUSINESS.  In the past, I would have this whole internal battle and tell myself I “shouldn’t” eat the cookie . . . and eventually I would eat the cookie (because nobody can tell me what to do or not do!) . . . and then in total self-sabotage fashion my rationalizing led to: “Well I might as well eat a dozen now, I’ve completely blown it!”  And I’d then proceed to eat a dozen, after which I’d feel awful and sick - physically, mentally, emotionally. 

But I wasn’t quite done.  Because then, I spent my energy thinking about how “bad” I was – fat, unworthy, out of control – rather than sitting with myself and my feelings and figuring out what I really “needed” in that moment.  That would have been the compassionate, more loving way to handle it.  And luckily, with some good therapy, introspection, and time, I’m happy to say I’ve mostly slain that dragon and evolved. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say it still rears its ugly head at times. And when She does, I know I’m in need of something. And instead of fighting her when She reawakens, I calmly look her in the eye and ask what it is She wants and needs.  And then to the best of my ability, I act on it – blessing the dragon and giving thanks for the reminder. I’m human, I’m fallible, but also: so, so deserving of love and radical self-acceptance. That knowing is way better than any number of chocolate chip cookies (though Jeni’s Salted Caramel ice cream does give it a run for its money!!).

It was like my need today to return to Sylvan Park and run and walk the neighborhood where I lived prior to and at the time I met my husband . . . my body knew I needed to go back there even when I wasn’t sure why I was called to that location this morning.  Just that when I put on my clothes to exercise and my running shoes, I knew that after I dropped the kids off at school, it was in the direction of Sylvan Park I would go.  The run around the golf course where my husband and I met fourteen years ago and the walk through the nearby neighborhood I traversed in the years prior to meeting my husband reminded me of how far I have come in the past 20 or so years. 

What my body needed to tell me and led me to this morning is the realization that life is truly a series of stepping-stones.  Each experience leads us to the next phase, chapter, relationship, job, friendship, bridge, door, field, garden.  Each stone is necessary. Seeming boulders have big life lessons. But we have to be willing to listen and really hear.  We have to be honest about our wants and our needs and decide where we are willing to negotiate – and where we are not. And then, we need to move forward.

What I was reminded of today is this:  Filling up is an inside job made whole by the lessons we learn and the choices we make. We need to embrace our lessons and make the best choices we know to make so that our paths can unfold in front of us and we can move toward the truths that make us who we are and are helping us become what we are meant to be.

Our bodies know.  The question is: Are we listening? If we are or if we aren’t, our next stepping-stone awaits: pebble, rock, boulder, mountain.  Big or little, the lessons and choices are ours. Be brave, be loving, be you. And choose well.

                                                                             c. Libby Mundy

Seize the Day

You never know who or what is going to make your life more full and whole on any given day.  People and experiences happen that open you up to a brand-new way of seeing or being that you had never considered before and might never have - had you not bumped into that someone or something new.

Most recently, I met an 82-year-old innkeeper at the Richmont Inn (www.richmontinn.com) where Jeff and I stayed last week-end in the Smoky Mountains.  Jim Hind and his wife call themselves “corporate dropouts” because they opened their dream bed and breakfast (a rustic cantilever barn) 23 years ago after a lifetime in corporate America.  And they have done a lovely job with the inn, its philosophy, and the heartfelt care and attention to detail they take to make their guests’ stay all it needs to be.

But more than the inn itself, I loved that at 59, Jim decided to follow his heart.  I kept looking at him, taking in the different facets of the Inn, and wondering, “Maybe Jeff and I would like to run a bed and breakfast??”  I’d listen to Jim speak, watch his thoughtful eyes take the surroundings in, and feel that I was in the presence of someone who allowed his authentic self to be shared and known.  But the flip side was also taking in the fact, that at 82, he probably is not going to be the active innkeeper much longer (though I hope he gets to do it for as long as it fulfills him!). 

I notice the slowing down in the upkeep of the outside grounds, which though lovely and probably well-tended at one time, have fallen into a bit of disrepair that some serious TLC would rectify in no time.  No, the foundation and internal workings are solid - something beautiful and worthy. You understand while staying there that the dream has been realized.  But there seems to also be a sense of, “Now what?”  Seeing Jim at 82, knowing he began living this dream at 59 and is now contemplating what may be his last decade or so, left me feeling sad, introspective, and ready to better identify and pursue my dreams for my life, my marriage, my next chapter.

This week-end away came directly after a visit Jeff and I made to my good friend Rosemary Cathcart (www.rosemarycathcart.com) so that she could help us strategize about how to identify and pursue our right livelihood as we think of ways to both support our family and be happy and fulfilled in the process.

Our session with Rosemary was insightful in many ways, and although we didn’t have any big "ah-has" about the WHAT, Jeff and I did get confirmation that the questions we are asking are the right ones.  This confirmation was made when our session ended and I said, “Oh rats! We didn’t get to do the Rune stones!! Oh well, next time . . .” to which Rosemary responded, “Do you want to ask one question?” and of course, I’m all, “yes! yes! yes!” So out came her bag of stones and in came my question, which went something like this: I want to know how Jeff and I can both be engaged in work that fulfills us and that also supports our family in the ways that we need . . . And Rosemary’s like, “Well, that’s a big order but we’ll see what we can find out . . ."

Into the pouch her hand goes and out come, not one stone as is customary, but two stones, as she says “Well I guess two want to come out today . . . O.K.”  And we take a look. “Of course” she says - like what other outcome could there be (given that there are 24 stones in the bag, the outcome could have been any thousand or so other combinations but no, we got this one particularly perfect pairing . . .).

The first stone was in the shape of an X, called Gebo, and stands for partnership.  For those of you who read about my session with Rosemary a few months ago as I was making a decision to resign from my teaching position, the same stone turned up. But at that juncture, if was about needing to end a partnership that did not allow for two whole individuals to express themselves.  And at this juncture, two whole (and married!) individuals are considering how to bring our whole selves to our partnership and most effectively be together: in marriage and in work.  The second stone - called Dagaz - is an X with two opposing sides closed by straight lines (like an hour glass), and is the rune representing breakthrough or radical change.

Partnership and Breakthrough! What an incredible affirmation of the path we are on. At least that’s how I am seeing this – and my dear, sweet, conservative husband, well, let’s say he’s doing his best to remain positive and open (and we all know, that’s no easy task – especially amidst times of chaos and change!).  We are talking, exploring ideas, thinking about what new partnership might be ours.  A turtle’s pace kind of couple, we are taking our time, staying connected, and being thoughtful as we contemplate what our next chapter will be.

Wanting to know more about the runes, Gebo and Dagaz, I did a bit of research when we got home and felt the rightness in their symbolism reaffirmed.  Along with "Partnership", other meanings for Gebo include: gift; generosity and giving; joint efforts; love and growth; sharing and sacrifice; and, unity.  Interestingly, the description for Dagaz ("Breakthrough") echoes what astrologers are describing as the current Grand Cross alignment (http://creativejuicesarts.com/blog/the-sky-is-not-falling-even-though-it-feels-that-way-the-upcoming-april-2014-astro-shenanigans/) wherein the time for waiting is over and major events and turning points are on their way. Dagaz is said to have great protective powers and is a rune of health, prosperity and new openings. I am ready for that great, new good!

For sure, it is a time of reassessment, redefining, letting go, and beginning anew - for all of us in some capacity. From the planets to the Earth to our government, relationships, beliefs . . . it's big, it's scary, it's exhilarating, and it can be exhausting.  But it is also necessary and worthwhile. Because, when it comes down to it, we basically all have two choices: 1.) Embrace the new. Or, 2.) Go kicking and screaming into the unknown while we unhappily cling to some worn-out way of being . . . 

It's a choice each of us has. And the time is upon us. So ask your questions. Seek your answers - wherever they may lie. And then, have the courage to live into them. The Universe is waiting for you to  share your good. The Grand Cross beckons. Give yourself permission to move forward. No more waiting around! Answer your call. Open a bed and breakfast. Flip a house. Write a book. Start a blog. Open a gourmet market. Dance. Paint. Draw. Take pictures. Grow a garden. Make music. Quit the job that doesn't serve you. Find the thing that does. Follow the energy, wherever it takes you. 

Seize the day.

Home to Roost

I grew up on a forty-acre farm in Northern Michigan.  We had chickens, ducks, goats, horses, dogs and cats.  A big garden. Apple trees. Grapes. Rhubarb. Maple trees that we climbed and from which we made maple syrup.  A wood stove that heated our house (though not so well I remember!).  I loved it.  I didn’t know any differently. It was the perfect childhood in my memory.  If we are lucky, we can say that – and I was so, so lucky.  Blessed, blessed, blessed.

Without a doubt, there were parts of living on a farm that really resonated for me: having a pony named Choo-Choo, taking naps in the hammock between two of those huge, sheltering maples, the space to roam at will. I loved all of this even though I have always been very particular about getting my clothes dirty, have a disdain for certain smells, and cannot stand the feel of dirt under my fingernails.  Some of these unique qualities shed light on other parts of farm life I was not so keen on: the distinct odor of a male goat, the taste of goat’s milk while my parents tried to disguise it in a half-gallon cow milk jug (nice try mom and dad!), or walking barefoot in the thick green grass and feeling chicken poop ooze between my toes . . .ugh!

It is no small irony to have come full circle and be in a place where Jeff and I are about to embark on a six chicken journey as they come home to roost in our backyard in the coming weeks.  Let me explain.  Jeff’s dream is to live out in the country with some acreage, and largely provide much of our food through gardening and farming. I suggested, when my mother-in-law asked what Jeff might like for his birthday, that she and my mom go in on a chicken coop for Jeff.  Thinking of it as a potential stepping-stone, I’d much rather try six chickens in our backyard before selling our house, moving out to the country, and finding out: “Oh Crap! We’ve made a huge mistake . . . I hate this!!!”

So yeah, I’d be lying if I didn’t say there’s a bit of resistance in me toward moving and this whole farm idea – at least right now in our lives.  I like that we are ten minutes from everywhere we want to be. I like that while living in the city, we still have almost an acre and a half to call our own. I like that Star Bagel is only 10 minutes away.  The library – 10 minutes. Our kids’ school – 12 minutes.  My mom’s condo – 8 minutes. The grocery store – 5 minutes. And Target – yes I’ll say it! – is only one mile away.  I won’t even mention the nail place (yes I will - 8 minutes!!!) . . . In about a 7-mile radius of where we live, almost all my wants and needs are accounted for.  And, we have a creek, a cedar log cabin on the back of our property, and three huge pines that stand sentinel over house.  Though not the maples I grew up with, these sage pines give our property a sense of place and permanence. I’m not ready to leave them anytime soon.

Which brings us back around to the chickens . . . with two non-meat eating family members, eggs are a major source of protein for this crew.  That I’m all about local/organic, is a given.  So this seems like a great compromise.  Raise chickens, feed them well, eat good eggs, share good eggs with neighbors who are putting up with our “country come to town” ways, continue to work on our garden, and see how that feels.  Sage and Taggart are dying for baby chicks and with names already picked out (Poppy Seed and Happy), they are all in on our new family project.

The chicken venture was solidified earlier this week when my mom and mother-in-law presented Jeff with the “Chicken Chalet” for his birthday. No turning back now, the wheels are in motion. The coop to be built, the chicks to be purchased and raised, we are on our way.  Easing into this back to nature, back to my childhood jaunt, we just may be inching toward a small farm (though I’m not making any promises!).  But in the meantime, we’ll stay right where we are, centrally located, under the tall pines, raising those baby chicks, eventually gathering our eggs and keeping those chickens happy. Yep, there I’ll be, doing my best to avoid chicken poop between my painted toes at all costs, eating my organic omelettes, and livin’ the “country come to town” dream!

Come join in the fun. Welcome the chickens. Help gather eggs.  Avoid the chicken poop in the backyard. And then run to Target if you must.  I’m with you: one foot in, one foot out, at least on the whole farm idea.  But chickens in the backyard I can handle.  For now, it’s having the best of both worlds.

A good compromise (perhaps the key to any successful marriage . . . ), I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

The Way of Forgiveness

In honor of Easter, Spring, and this magical time of renewal, the following poem honors that space within all of us that might benefit from more forgiveness:  be it forgiving others or ourselves.  Embrace this time of re-birth and let go of anything that no longer serves you. Start today – the first day of the rest of our lives.  Each day - the chance to begin again. Embody spring.  Go from dormant to bud to bloom.  Smile.  Enfold the good that is yours: waiting for you in the warmth of the sun, the petals of the blossoming flowers, the beckoning call of the robin’s song.  Let go and know that joy. 

The Way of Forgiveness 

Asking questions

Seeking your truth

Living each day:

An open heart.

Stilling the doubts

Illuminating darkness

Seeing the light:

A compassionate heart.

Releasing control

Embracing the lesson

Sharing your story:

A generous heart.

Loving what is

Letting go of what isn’t

Beginning anew:

A grateful heart.

The joy of forgiveness

Is that soul deep knowing

There is always more good

Than any one heart can hold.

Stand With Me, Love

If God can’t get our attention with the sunshine and 72 degree weather, the flowering red buds and lemon yellow tulips, the happy chirping of the birds, what, oh what, will it take? 

We are all so busy buzzing around, checking tasks off our to-do lists, fitting our exercise routine in, running errands that more often than not feel like a dog chasing its tail . . . we need caffeine to bring us up and wine to bring us down.  More sleep than we give ourselves.  More veggies than we typically consume on any given day (Two and a half cups is the goal!).  The long and the short - we barely take time to breathe. Be still. Listen. 

But if we did, oh my! If God could have our attention, just for a minute, She’d have so much to say.  There are people that hear Him. That She directly speaks to. Neale Donald Walsch and his Conversations With God series come to mind. Sarah Young of the devotional Jesus Calling is another great example.  I have read both of these authors and find wisdom and inspiration in each of their messages and stories.

Truly though, it wasn’t until two days ago that a friend, whose father passed recently and has been facing some really trying times, shared with me her own experience of being spoken to by God.  She refers to her experience as “Sitting With God” and she hears Him speaking to her throughout the day (and even waking her at night with His messages and insights) and has been compelled to write what comes to her in a paperback journal a friend recently gave her. 

As we talked in the school parking lot, I said I’d love to hear some of the messages some time. “No!” she says emphatically. “I can show you right now. Come look.”  And there it is – the mythic journal - the entries themselves scratched down, fast and in a big hurry; she has to write quickly as the words come like crashing waves, while she urges her pen to press on. She shares that the actual writing style is not hers, including words she does not typically use (or sometimes even know) and at times, the messages come in different languages . . . There are other instances when God gives her an image (i.e., two souls connecting) but no words . . . And she does her best to translate that. All the while, God keeps moving along and she’s like “Wait a minute! Let me catch up, please.”

The writing itself and the messages are absolutely beautiful – breathtaking, lyrical, awe-inspiring.  Not to sound clichéd, but this is the most incredible gift.  Many of the messages sound like love letters from God to her – or to any other soul in need of love, connection, and affirmation. And as I listen to my friend share, I grab her arm and say, “This is big. Huge. You have a book here.  This has to be shared.  Other people need to hear this.”  And then, just as quickly, “I’ll help you. I will not do anything with your writings that you do not want done.  But if you want me to organize them, type them up, help you start a blog . . . I will.”

I have had a hard time telling people about this experience because it is so hard to adequately express the seeming miracle I am witnessing; tears literally come to my eyes as I think of the beauty, grace, and trust God has bestowed my friend.  Two hours after my friend and I talked she sent me this “Sitting With God” entry that came to her after our conversation:

‘Blessed is He who comes in the name of The Lord’ is the position of understanding that He (Holy Trinity) has arrived and is at work within the congregation. You may sit and observe it at work within others through their emotion. The Trinity arrives with passion and develops emotional responses from others. The ones who are open to seeing and feeling will be overwhelmed and the Trinity will begin to be allowed to work within that person. That time - that space - belongs to the Holy Trinity. Complete wholeness allows a welcomed call to the Trinity to enter and begin the good work that ultimately will transform the person and then becomes their work. In time you will see the transformation and the new plane which exists for that new viewed life. Welcome the Holy Trinity to guard, respect, and honor you. For it's only when you invite It in that the work can begin and guarding remains. For the work can become yours and then the presence of protecting continues. The light is always present. Use it, call upon it, share it, become one with it. Stand with me, Love.

Needless to say, I have been a little in shock since my conversation with my friend – trying to make sense of it all, take it in and inhale the goodness that is my friend’s companion and truth right now.  But also, just to slow down and absorb it.  To loosen that noose of control that orders my thinking and days.  For instance, I tried to go on a four mile run with Tractor yesterday morning and boy, was he slow-pokin’ it!  Good Gosh, the first mile was at a snail’s pace and I was wondering, “Is he tired? Is he sick? Come on already Tractor!”  And then on the tail of that, “Maybe he just wants to take it all in . . .”  So we compromised.  We ran a very slow two and then walked the second two miles, all the while noticing and giving thanks for the beauty and wonder of a perfect spring morning.

God, the Holy Trinity, the All-Loving, the All-Powerful, the Alpha and Omega, The One, Shakti . . . Call it whatever you will.  It’s everywhere.  In everything.  All the time.  If only we’d slow down, get quiet, and notice.  Maybe you’ll hear a still, clear voice. Maybe you won’t. But whether you hear it or not, it’s there for all of us, in whatever form we can absorb it.  In the smallest detail of the flower’s stamen, in the vivid cobalt hue of the blue bird’s wing, in the depths of our children’s eyes when we look at them and see God’s reflection . . .

It’s really very simple.  Slow down. Look. Listen. See. Hear. God is waiting ever-so-patiently.  And when you finally arrive, you might just hear Her say, “Stand with me, Love”.

That Dog

Coachable: someone who is committed to their 

own development and is hungry for feedback from 

others to improve themselves (ask.com)

Being coachable is a key life skill.  Ask any coach or athlete.  If you aren’t coachable, you are not willing or open to trying new things, to improving yourself, to developing beyond where you currently are.  I watch my son on the baseball field as the coach tells him how to improve his pitching – praying for that firm “Yes Sir!” answer and the openness to try to do what the coach is telling him. It isn’t easy if you are 11 years old and think you have all the answers.  That the world is totally black and white and you know the truth ‘bout most anything with a capital “T”. 

But what I notice is, when Taggart's not feeling attacked or if he's being told about something he hasn’t had any experience with – pitching, for example, or kissing (which he informed me the other night he learned how to do from youtube . . . of course, this is one I’m going to have to do a little follow-up on this week!) - he is open and receptive.  A little tentative, perhaps, but he is taking in and trying new behaviors to see if they work (except that kissing! Which he swears he hasn’t tried yet and will wait a couple more years for . . . I hope!!).

A great tool I learned at a recent workshop on “Building a Balance: Encouraging Responsibility in Teens and Tweens” by Bill Willson, is to ask Taggart: “Can I have permission to coach right now?”  Using this when I want to give Taggart advice or feedback allows for two things:  a choice on his part and receptivity/buy-in.  Now Bill was quick to point out that often kids will say, “NO!!” initially.  However, after a few minutes they usually come back around and ask for the feedback on their own.  By giving them a choice, they feel more in control and if they do give permission, you have a more receptive listener and their buy-in too.  Win-win  (now, if I can just remember to actually ask for permission next time I want to give him some advice instead of jumping right in . . . how coachable am I, I wonder???)

This, of course, leads us to the question: Can you teach an old dog new tricks?  Well, if you are coachable, it’s a resounding yes!  I think of my grandfather, who in retirement, learned to do handwriting analysis and became quite good at “reading” people based on their handwriting.  I think of my mom who, at 70, is constantly open to new apps and new ways of using her computer, iPad, and photography programs to the best of her ability.  She’s open and hungry to learn – even when it’s scary, she feels like a dummy (her words not mine!), or it’s hard.  She sticks with it.  Her favorite piece of advice: “Look it up on youtube!”  (Ahhh, maybe that’s where Taggart came up with his research strategy for Kissing 101!!).

Regardless of your age, your past, or your fears, ask yourself:  Am I coachable?  Open to feedback?  Willing to learn?  There are always new tricks to learn – for dogs old and young alike.  You just have to be receptive.

So don't hold back.  Don't let habits or old ways of doing things or even old truths you used to believe hold you back.  Be open. Be brave. Be coachable. And learn a new trick (or at least a new kissing technique!).  Be that dog.