Last week’s post on Empty Nest reminded me of feeling stuck.  Focusing on an event such as watching my children move on brings back all those memories.  One would think that tears could just woosh away the pain and sadness.  Unfortunately that’s not the case.  When major life changes occur (and truthfully any changes, good or bad, are processed as loss) our intention is to hold tight.  But it’s hard to hold something that isn’t there.  We grasp yet all we can find is a hole.  That emptiness breeds fear, anxiety and tension in the body--in other words physical holding.  That’s why loss is so painful.  

Once our discomfort is magnified by sadness and physical pain we shift our direction and begin to hold onto things.  It’s a very clever way to hide our distress.  Toys, clothes, locks of hair, elementary school papers--anything that might fill up the hole.  Now we have complexified our situation.  Our bodies are in pain because of emotional holding and our homes are cluttered with stuff.  We’re stuck.  

Can you imagine the downward spiral if this continued?  It’s a wretched cycle.  And the worst thing about it is our lives are constantly changing.  We are experiencing some kind of loss on a regular basis.  Which makes the threat of getting stuck all the more real.  Loss of loved ones, loss of job, changes of job definition and serious injury are devastating.  Interruption to routine, illness and disappointment are frequent changes.  What can we do about it?  I wish there were an simple way to ease the pain.  If you want to get unstuck the only way is to learn to adapt.  Try taking these steps towards letting go:

  1. Turn and face the pain instead of running away.  This is the most difficult choice.  I get it.  But it’s also the most direct path towards letting go.  A wise woman once told me that a feeling only lasts about 30 seconds.  You may face excruciatingly painful feelings--but you can make it for 30 seconds.  Practice with the little daily occurrences and you’ll be better prepared for the big ones.  This is so challenging and contrary to our nature that you may spend a lifetime practicing.  It is worth your time.
  2. Start your day with 20 minutes of uncensored, stream of consciousness writing.  Giving yourself the time and a private place to note your darkest thoughts or celebrate your victories will help you let go.  Don’t overthink this.  Go buy a spiral notebook, put pen to paper and keep it moving.  That’s the important part.  The motion of the pen will connect with the flow of your subconscious and you will let go.  No words?  Write blah, blah, blah until the words come.  You may have to write a half page of nonsense before words begin to flow--and that’s ok.  I first read about this method in Julia Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way.”  
  3. Evaluate your mementos.  Identify the things you’re holding.  My mother kept both her children’s bedrooms preserved--as if we’d never left.  I did the same when my older son left for college.  It wasn’t until my younger son moved out--six years later--that I realized I was doing exactly the same thing.  Is there a space in your home that you tend to avoid?  For example, my son’s preserved bedroom--I kept the door shut and I felt anxious about going inside.  That’s a hint you need to handle it.  Take an afternoon and make piles--toss, donate, keep, and cherish.  Yes, absolutely keep the items that have meaningful sentimental value.  Don’t hold onto every scrap.  You won’t lose your children or your memories; you will gain yourself.  Give yourself time and have a box of tissues handy.  It will be emotionally exhausting work but letting go will make you free.
  4. Fill the space in a positive way.  Look for the possibility instead of the loss.  I’ll talk more about this later in the week.
  5. Review my coping strategies.  Try my strategies for coping with loss.  Making a plan for handling life’s inevitable losses will empower you and that will help you let go.  Edit my list with the strategies that work for you.  
  6. What works for you?  Add your steps for letting go and getting unstuck in the comments section below.








 
 
It begins with a dream. That's the easy part.

"All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them." ~ Walt Disney

Courage indeed.  Getting starting is often the hardest part. Why is that?  If our dreams inspire us to do more and be more why do we leave them untouched?  Because we’re afraid.  

This week Kickstarter featured a guest blogger who wrote a terrific article about her struggle to get started with her video.  Already possessing a dream and a terrific idea all that stood in her way was getting started--with her funding pitch.  Lori Leaumont describes three stumbling blocks that held her back.  First, her inner critic attacked her dream.  “What if it’s not good enough?”  Next, she succumbed to a preconceived idea of what she “should” be doing.  Lori tried to make her funding video fit into someone else’s storyboard.  Finally, she was afraid to ask for help.   There were just too many steps to take alone; she was overwhelmed and paralyzed with fear.   

Do these stumbling blocks sound familiar?  These three blocks are common to forgotten dreams. It’s no surprise that they’re all based on fear.  Do you have a dream or an idea that is waiting for you?  What’s holding you back from getting started?  Your inner critic? Not fitting into someone’s mold?  Fear of reaching out?  You may find that the very thing that scares you actually could be your strength.  Go ahead and be an original; be a maverick.  You are uniquely qualified to share your strengths!

Lori’s defining moment:  "I was doing a project about girl’s empowerment; when it came down to it, I was really doing it to empower myself. Once I realized that, and I knew what I wanted to say to the world, I found my determination to get it done. Finishing that video was one of the most empowering things I’ve ever done!"

In the end, she stayed true to herself and her dream.  With more than half a month left her project is already funded.  Read Lori’s blog here.

 
 
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There are buds on my lilac bush.  Ahhh...Spring.  It gives me hope to watch the world renew.  Yes, we’ll have more snow but it will be dotted with playful crocus and sunny daffodil blooms.  The buds and bulbs alert all my senses.  Colors, texture, fragrance--it feels fresh and new.  The anticipation of a new season helps lift me out of a rut and back in the creative groove.

What about you?  Are you in a groove?  Congratulations!  May your ride be smooth and productive.

And the rest of you?  Are you like me, in a rut?  My tasks feel heavy.  Arduous.  Chores pile high like dirty snow.  It’s been a somber, grey winter and I need a change. The best way out is to take a cue from Spring and lighten up.  Be playful.  Think young.  Here’s a game of Child’s Play to lift you out of the rut.


Collect a crayon and paper and practice this meditation:  close your eyes and think back--to being 7.  You are wearing cowboy boots and “Cars” pajamas.  (You also wore this yesterday and will wear it again tomorrow.)  Run to the kitchen to drink half a glass of juice.  Grab paper and crayon.  Run to the living room.  Stop to knock down your brother’s tower of blocks.  Run back to the kitchen to drink more juice.  Wipe your mouth on your sleeve.  Now run back to the living room to draw.  Fling your your body on the rug and burp.  Laugh out loud.  Draw a picture of your crying brother.  Then, while you’re in “time-out” think about some other things you can draw....Now, make your own drawing.  Be seven-years-old while you draw.  Sing while you draw.  Make up a story while you draw.   Feel renewed.

It's a healthy way to suspend impulse control.  You'll find this exercise works wonders for the psyche.  It's as relaxing as meditation and rejuvenating as a brisk walk.  And that's a handy tool when you are overworked.  Keep a pad of paper and some markers handy, close your eyes and dream up your own seven-year-old meditation and doodle your cares away.   Practice often and you might find yourself journaling.  You'll be back in the groove in no time.  Maybe for the first time since you were seven!

BTW, the absolute best book about this kind of spontaneous, childlike drawing is “Harold and the Purple Crayon.”  It's so good I dare say it is required reading.  Read it and be seven again!