simple gems

As we go into the third week of me at home recouping from a concussion, I have had the blessing of really appreciating the simple things in our life:

the kindness of friends and family who want to help us and provide for us

the generosity of others

the way my daughter’s smile radiates delight

how my son’s eyes light up when he sees me after school

purple crocuses beginning to sprout

the healing mediation of painting

the softness of my bed and pillow

warm bath water

Blondie (my parent’s cocker spaniel) sweetly coming over to me for a pet

nourishing meals made with love by others

soft, warm pajamas

how the sky changes slowly, steadily

These are the gems in my days right now.  They glimmer.  They shine.  They quietly nourish and heal me.  My life is about noticing the gems of my everyday life.  They are here.  Sometimes going unnoticed.  Yet….here.  Slowing down, laying on the couch, not able to really do much, I have seen these “everyday gems” with new and appreciative eyes.  My life sure does shine.

What gems are in your everyday life???  What is right in front of you, right beside you, right within you that is shining, glimmering, waiting for you to linger and notice?

Everyday Courage

a gem i created!

Sometimes the most courageous thing we do in a day is say, “yes.”  Yes to the mess and the imperfect.  Yes to looking at our children with regard, and softly saying, “You matter.”  Yes to responding to our partners with eyes of compassion instead of reacting out of our habitual ways of closing off our hearts.  Yes to writing one more page in the book we were born to create.  Yes to treating ourselves with tenderness.  Yes to the power of gentleness.

I believe that bravery isn’t about being fearless.   It’s about daring to be our vulnerable, real, not-all-together selves and finding the miraculous right here within us and our everyday lives.

That’s courage. 

To be vulnerable — with our own selves, with each other…to dare to say “I love you” and not hold back, to dare to move closer instead of reacting in our habitual ways by pulling back, to speak up for something we believe in even when our voice is shaky or tears come streaming down.

To be real — not someone else, not what anyone else wants or what society wants us to be…but what we KNOW in our bones is our truth.  To speak it.  To live it.  To be it.

To be our “not-all-together-selves” — imperfect.  To “mess up” and give ourselves a dose of compassion and begin again.

To find the miraculous in the mess right here –  YES.  If we are going to be “happy” then it’s RIGHT HERE.  It has to be found right here.  Not on some Caribbean island or at the bottom of a cookie jar — that’s the mind looking for happiness in the wrong place — outside of ourselves.  Nope.  HAPPINESS is a CHOICE.  And it takes courage to orient our hearts and minds to NOTICING the miraculous RIGHT HERE in our everyday lives — the way your daughter’s eyelashes curl, the mere size and shape of your son’s growing hand (almost bigger than yours!), how the snow sparkles at night, the morning light dancing in through your windows, the softness of a blanket wrapped around you, the delight of running into a friend as you are out and about… THESE are the precious and miraculous of our day.  THIS is what saves us.  THIS is how we choose happiness.

To find the miraculous within us — YES.  WITHIN US.  So so often I hear the harsh things people tell themselves — the daily voices in one’s head incessantly saying, “You aren’t enough,” “Who are you to believe you are worth loving?”, “Why even try?  You’ll mess up”…etc etc.  Enough.  Practice softening.  Practicing being breathed.  Practice gentleness.

It takes COURAGE to live this way.  Why?  Because we live in a culture where this isn’t the “norm.”  We are wired to have a bias toward the negative.  BUT we are also wired for compassion, for empathy, for making wise decisions and enlightenment.  And what do I mean by “enlightenment”?  Union with (however you define) the Divine.

Yes, dear ones, it takes courage to find the Divine, right here in our everyday lives.  But…it is here.  All around us.  I see it in you — your writing, your voice, the way your hair curls, the laugh lines on your face, the boldness of your brown eyes, your aging hands, the stories you tell, the way you come up with these hilarious one liners, the courage you have to get up every morning…and love.

So keep saying YES!  Yes to the mess, to loving, to softening, to the imperfect, to the unexpected, to the joy, to the sadness, to the miraculous…right here.

Love,

Lisa

 

**  Check out this piece from a TED video on GRATITUDE… “if you do nothing else than notice the great gift this great day is…if you learn to respond as if it is the first day of your life and the last day of your life, you will have spent it well.”

 

Being Brave

I posted this yesterday on Facebook:

Some times the most courageous thing we do in a day is just show up. Show up and be our vulnerable, real, not all together n perfect selves. We do it with heart n “realness.” Like tonight with me teaching a new class- Iam always nervous. I just am. I’ve taught hundreds of times n I still hope people get it, I hope people come away feeling better n lighter n connected. I haven’t mastered not having expectations. So I feel into that nervousness. I ok it, allow it to be there. I ground myself. I surrender. I pray n ask that the divine speak n move though me n I speak the truth rising up fri within me n that my authenticity, however flawed or fascinating, softens n nourishes the hearts I am with. THAT is courage. Love, Lisa

Bravery has got NOTHIN’ to do with FEELING brave!  It’s got everything to do with being willing to DROP the perfect, the “I’ve got it together” gimmick, the “I have to have it all perfect” need for control…and getting REAL.  Being real, being vulnerable, being hopeful, being full of fear, being courageous enough…DARING ENOUGH…to believe that voice within us now turned to shouting to get our attention…to get us to believe and embody “I AM AMAZING!  I AM BEAUTIFUL!  I AM ENOUGH!  I AM GOOD AND HOLY AND WHOLE!”

This world, shoot — our childhood — however “perfect” they were or weren’t — would have us believing in scarcity, playing small, being out for “numero uno” in an obsessive and myopic way…believing we are not enough, we shouldn’t be so bold, we shouldn’t be so powerful.  Well, ENOUGH.  Enough of all those voices.  Enough believing all those lies and untruths!

I choose to be courageous enough to believe in my goodness.  I choose to believe that the Divine has some awesome work and words and poetry to share through my hands, my eyes, my life!  I’ve KNOWN that since I was a little girl.  I can remember being really little and believing I’d own my own business and I’d write and I’d lead and I’d be about helping people and I’d be about moving my body.  Well, look at me!  That’s what I do!  But there has always still been something in me — those voices — that say, “But you don’t know enough” or “who, YOU?!”  or “don’t be such a know-it-all” or “don’t sound too confident” or “don’t mess up and appear weak, either!”  or “You are going to cry if you start reading your poetry or really talking from your heart!”  OR… this is a doosey: “Who’d want to join YOU??”

Well, so what?  So what if I cry or mess up or don’t get it perfect or I am nervous or that I come across as a “know it all?”  I doesn’t matter any more if someone likes me or not; gets it or not; if I belong or not.  Ultimately…we belong to the DIVINE!  We can’t NOT belong!  Too many times I’ve let the little “new kid in the Catholic school” girl in me shy away and be filled with fear that I’ll be “kicked off the lunch table” (seriously.  I was.  That’s a whole other story!).   YES, ME!  The Divine wants ME to stand up and sing it, say it, read it, lead it, move it.  THIS takes courage.  It takes COMMUNITY.  It takes bravery.  It’s scary, crazy…and I can’t “not” do it.  To stay quiet or step down or not teach or not lead would disgrace the divine.  I’ve been encouraging, supporting, accompanying others doing this for years.  Now, today, me…taking the next courageous step in my own path.

This day, this moment, has been coming.  It’s been rising up from within me for YEARS now.  Through meditation, lots of “being in the messy,” lots of “getting real,” and lots of “being right here and STAYING.  SOFTEN.  ALLOW” when really, I’d want to high-tail it outta there.  And today…today something just ‘clicked.’  Or snapped.  Or…came together.  And I can’t go back.  This is it.  And actually, this is how I’ve been living my life.  Boldly.  Sooooo imperfect.  So human.  So authentic.  So “The Divine has got somethin’ to say and move through ME!”

We all have it in us — this desire to be authentic and live courageously.  HOW ARE YOU CALLED TO LIVE COURAGEOUSLY?!

Well, this is me waking up a bit more today.  And, so beautifully, just a few days until my 39th bday!

What a gift — to be courageous and bold and believe and embody our goodness!  However messy and miraculous that is!  And it doesn’t feel like a big step.  It’s just, as my beautiful mom says, “the next right step.”

Mindful Moment: Stay and Soften

One evening in December, our bedtime ritual started out like to does every night:  brushing teeth, pjs, a book, a few songs, a prayer (sometimes we sing it!), and me laying with our two year old daughter while Brian lays with our five year old son.

Our son, he is out in like two minutes.  Kindergarten does that to a boy!  Our daughter, she loves to chat, sing, lay there, ask for more milk, cuddle.  Most nights, I savor it.  I linger with Little C.  I whisper my prayers.  I lay there in the quiet, holding her, listening to her breathe…and then ask another question.  When Little C was a few months old, I wrote this poem:

My Skin Remembers

In the dark stillness of the early morning,

before the first glimmers of dawn appear through our bedroom window,

Brian brings Clara to me for an early morning feeding.

She is half awake half asleep now nuzzled next to me.

Her little feet rest on my bare belly as she wraps one arm over my chest

and tucks the other under my breast to nurse.

I am laying on my side, my left arm stretched out on the bed

and heat from the top of Clara’s head warms the inside of my elbow.

My right arm wraps around her tiny, plump, six month old body.

Our bellies touching rise and fall together in a soft rhythm.

Though my body begs for more sleep, I don’t mind being up so early

before the sunlight slowly dances into our room.

I know now with my second child that this will not last forever.

There will come a day when I will long to hold my babies again

just      like     this

and my skin will ache with nostalgia.

But this morning, I also know that when that day comes,

a smile will rise up from within me

as my skin remembers breathing in

this

very

moment.

Butttttt….there are times when I am think “O.M.G., you gotta go to sleep!”  I am tired, needing space, needing to be on my own for a bit.  And that’s when my meditation practice comes into play.

“It’s ok to feel this way, Lisa.”

“It’s ok to want time alone, to need space.”

In those moments, I try to remind myself to practice self-compassion instead of beating myself up with mama guilt “Oh I shouldn’t feel this way!  I should be oh-so-very present AND loving every minute of it.  Why don’t I feel that way? What’s wrong with ME?  So-and-so…you’d never hear that from her!  She loves everything about being a mom….”  It goes on, doesn’t it?  Well, instead of going down THAT path, ….

I pause.  I stay with what is rising up.  I don’t push it away.  I just stay.  I hold my heart and my needs and my yearnings close, with breath and spaciousness.  I soften.  And the once intense emotions and thoughts shift.

What rises up is a sense of “ahhhh, ok.  I’m ok.  This is ok.”  And then I’m able to make a clearer, more compassionate choice.

So back to this one night in December…

I thought my Little C. was asleep.  I slowly rolled out of her bed and started to get up to leave.

“Mommy, where you going?”

OHHHH I could’ve lost it.  I was tired.  It was late.  I felt my feet on the earth (on our “beautiful” carpet stained with milk and god knows what else!), I softened, breathed…

And then Little C. continued, “Mama, you stay with me?”

STAY WITH ME.  These words cut riiiight through to what is most important.  Right through any frustration, tiredness, need for alone time.

I turned back into the room, got into bed again with Little C., and said, “Yes, my Love, I’ll stay with you.” 

We laid like that for a long while.  Just in silence.  Me — softening, letting it all go, noticing, allowing.

And then Little C. whispers – half asleep, half awake, “Mommy?”

Me: “Yes, Love?”

Little C.: “I love you.”

Then she fell sound asleep.

As I pulled the covers up over her little chest, as I walked out of the quiet room, I thought about how that could’ve gone comPLETELY different.  There are times it has — when I’m like, “BABY!  You gotta go to sleep!”  Times when I lay there but I’m not really present.  Times when I am tired and under resourced.  And I react.  Instead of respond.  And as I walked out of the room, I found myself oh so grateful for the intention I set years ago to be a mindful mama, for how that has informed my practice of SOFTENING, tending to, allowing, being with, being gentle IN OUR EVERYDAY LIFE.  I found myself bowing to the community of moms and  dads who are on this journey of healing our world through being RIGHT HERE, present to and regarding our little ones.

STAY.  STAY AND SOFTEN.  With our own hearts, with our little ones.  I am finding that the more I offer myself such sweet spaciousness, the more I am able to extend that to my dear ones.  And I smile softly, with no regrets.

Eyes of compassion

Today, is it possible to look at all people with the eyes of compassion?  To practice looking at even those who frustrate you, annoy you, anger you, disgust you with softer eyes?  To see beyond the exterior mask they wear?  Some times it’s helpful to imagine them as a newborn baby and how their mother looked at them for the first time.

Some times we need to imagine our own selves as a newborn in order to see our innate goodness.  Sometimes we need to first see our own selves with the eyes compassion, to see that we are suffering, in some way, when our hearts are closed off.  When we feel connected, safe, resourced, and like we belong, our hearts naturally open, expand, and include.  When we feel disconnected, unsafe, threatened, under resourced, and isolated, we close off, we contract, we judge, and we exclude.

People don’t hurt others when they feel connected, safe, resourced, loved, regarded, and like they belong.

We have all heard: “It takes a village to raise a child.”  What if we looked at all beings as our children?  What if we looked at even those who hurt others as our children, our suffering, disconnected children?  What if, instead of judging, polarizing people into ‘good’ or ‘evil,’ we acknowledge our own grief and suffering inside of us and have the intent to include others in our hearts and prayers who are suffering and act gruffly, annoy us, hurt us?

Such inclusion in our hearts, such eyes of compassion for others does not condone the actions of others.  It does not say, “Do whatever you want to me.”  It does not say, “don’t take responsibility for your actions.”   And actually, when we practice seeing the “other” with eyes of compassion, our ability to have appropriate boundaries and limits expands.  The right action to take arises.  We may decide to end a friendship that is not nourishing, and still have compassion for them.  We may decide to never see a person again, and still not exclude them from our hearts.

It’s a profound practice.  In it, we realize that we hurt our own hearts when we exclude.  We suffer when we close off our hearts.  We flourish, we live with a lighter, more powerful heart when every single person is included in our hearts.

Such inclusion is the ultimate healing balm to grieving hearts.  In time.

So, tomorrow, when we wake up, vow to act with compassion.  And when you don’t, have eyes of compassion for yourself and begin again.  We all have 24 hours to begin again and again and again.  And each time we do, our hearts expand…and heal.

Facing fear, living life

Maybe it’s because I’ll be turning 40 in a year.  Maybe it’s because there’s this tender “knowing” rising up into my conscious mind, influencing even my mundane everyday decisions.  Maybe it’s because giving birth brought me to my most raw, vulnerable, warrior, grace-surrending self.  Maybe because I’ve survived six years of parenthood.  Maybe it’s because touching life so tenderly every day in two growing, beautiful children makes me touch the reality of life’s companion, death.  Maybe it’s all of these and more I can’t name quite yet happening within me.

But I get it:  THIS IS IT.  This life will end.  Maybe not tomorrow or next year.  Maybe not for another 40 years.  But me, you, we are all of the nature to grow old and ca-puuuut.  I don’t know when that last breath will be.  I don’t know for certain if I’ll see my children grow old and have babies and I’ll be that grandmother holding her grandchildren with wise eyes and slow hands.  When I get in the car to commute down 270, I don’t know if the goodnight kiss I gave my husband the night before will be the last one.  I just don’t know.

In this culture, we loath aging.  We don’t talk about dying.  And so we live in a way where we take it all for granted.  Or at least many of us do.  I do — more than I care to admit.  But the truth is that there’s no getting around it — we will cease to exist.  All we love, cherish…it’ll all end some day.

But this doesn’t have to be a downer.  Over the last six years, something in me has been consciously aware of and quietly noticing…sitting back and reaalllly watching this life and hearing Her whispers.  “This is it, Lisa.  Bless it.  Notice it.  Live it.  Let it go.”

Even in my early thirties, though of course, I “knew” we all die, that fact never really seeped into my conscious awareness and my everyday actions.  Still today, I act like I have forever.  But more and more, I see how there is an end approaching.  It doesn’t really matter what I believe happens after this life, the fact is that THIS life, this very one, will cease to exist.

And somehow, in that sitting, in that knowing, in that allowing of death to “come closer,” I am being transformed.  And it has prompted me to live.  To live more fully, ferociously, quietly, contently, honestly, gently, and…tenderly.

How?

One way:  I am facing my fears.  I have always been petrified of snakes, ever since a baaaad dream about them when I was a child.  Aware of how, in many cultures, the snake represents the feminine in all her power, I have sat in meditation many-a-times drawing closer and closer to that powerful, sensual Feminine force…within me and the Divine.  But still scared. Until a week ago.

I had a dream where my two year old, old-soul daughter was holding a snake.  It was wrapped around her arms and shoulders.  She was completely enthralled, even content and “at home.”  She told me the snake just wanted to nuzzle up next to her for warmth and comfort.  And she was happy to oblige.

Fast forward a few days.  We were our amazing local nature center for a birthday party.  I knew they’d bring out the animals, including snakes.  I decided that when it came around to it, I’d hold the snake.  And I did.

facing my fear! holding a snake

Petrified, I breathed.  I opened up to letting go of the past stories I’ve told myself about snakes.  I opened up to having no expectation or hope for the future about me and snakes.  I just opened up to THAT VERY MOMENT of holding the snake — with no past, no future.  Just noticing and being present to the sensations of holding this snake.  And it was….ok.  I noticed how strong this little snake was — how she wrapped herself around my arm.  I noticed how she moved so slowly and gracefully and quietly…and purposefully.

Now a week later, something in me is changing.  I still don’t know what it is quite yet.  Maybe it’s more of Life and Death and the Divine whispering: “Wake up, sweet Love.  It’s time.”  Maybe it’s the quietness of fear dissolving, illusions fading:  “I could run into a snake and not be freaked out.”  Maybe it’s truth and true power rising:  “This is your life, Lisa.  Notice it.  Hold it.  Bless it.  And let it go.”

So I am.  Day by day.

Blue moon, lonely planet

blue moon

With That Moon Language
By Hafiz

Admit something:
Everyone you see, you say to them, “Love me.”

Of course you do not do this out loud, otherwise someone would call the cops.
Still, though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect.

Why not become the one who lives with a full moon in each eye
that is always saying,
with that sweet moon language,
what every other eye in this world is dying to hear?

You’re right, Hafiz. You are right. All these years between you and I, you in Ancient Persia, and I here today in 2012, still it is in every human being this longing to belong. This longing to be loved. And this opportunity to love each other with the “sweet language” of the moon – to say to each other, “I love you!” In some way. Maybe not those exact words. Yes, people today, too, would think you are crazy and call the cops. Or, now a days, stop talking to you by the water cooler at work or on the playground with your children.

How ironic is it that each of us – all of us – long to hear those sweet words, “I love you!” I see you. I cherish you. In this moment. With this look. This willingness to be present with you right here right now…even though there is a deadline to meet, dinner to cook, bills to be paid.

Lately, folks, I am hearing again and again the pangs of people’s hearts about how LONELINESS is an epidemic. And yet, I also hear how we are also reaching out. We are all so TIRED, so very tired, of being numb, of not listening to our hearts, of living isolated, lonely lives disconnected from our own hearts, each other, the Earth, and any sense of the Sacred.

We are saying ENOUGH. We are waking up, world. We are waking up.

So, brave soul, please, keep sharing from your heart, keep connecting, keep reaching out, keep being tender and real and imperfect and “not all together”. Keep saying, “I need you!” Keep offering your own hand — shoot, keep offering one minute of your time where you are truly, truly present to the person before you!

This is how we wake up to the fact that we belong to each other. This is how we heal our world — and our own hearts.

Each time you judge yourself, you break your own heart…

see the goodness that you are

 
“My beloved child, break your heart no longer.
Each time you judge yourself, you break your own heart.
You stop feeding on the love which is the wellspring of your vitality.
The time has come.
Your time.
To celebrate.
And to see the goodness that you are.
You, my child, are divine.
You are pure.
You are sublimely free.
Let no one, no thing, no idea or ideal obstruct you.
If one comes, even in the name of ‘Truth’, forgive it for its unknowing.
Do not fight.
Let go.
You are God in disguise and you are always perfectly safe.
Do not fight the dark. Just turn on the light.
Let go and breathe into the goodness that you are.”

Swami Kripalvanandaji (Bapuji)
as copied from
“Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life with the Heart of a Buddha”
by Tara Brach

How to heal by doing very little? Just N.A.P.!

I had a hard day.  You all know how it goes – something doesn’t go as planned, people don’t respond the way you’d like, you were just “off” and didn’t come across as confident or maybe even competent, your child threw up or is having a rough day, someone was critical of you even though you were really really trying to help. We’ve all been there. The specifics don’t matter. (No really, they don’t matter. Keep reading!)

Today, I could feel the sting in my heart, the tightness in my throat, the defeat in my slumped shoulders…all before noon.

I started down the path of aversion and separateness: “Well, I’ll never help them again!”  And judgment: “Who do they think they are?!”

I got into the car.  I sat there.  Tears were welling up.  Not the tears of hysteria and wild emotion, but the quiet tears of defeat.

I knew I needed to hear my own voice. I turned on my iphone (god, I love this thing!), went to the voice recorder and clicked “record.”

I sat there, pausing, breathing.  I know that explaining, complaining, and analyzing don’t do jack to heal us.  They aren’t the healing balm to suffering.

And I wanted HEALING BALM. Not some bandaid B.S.  I am over the “treating the symptoms” kind of approach.  I go for true healing.

So I decided to “go back to the basics” of my mindfulness practice:

I just started naming whatever was in my present moment awareness.

Any thought, emotion, memory, sensation…whatever came into my awareness, I named it.
“Anger.”
“Tightness.”
“Heat.”
“Now this layer of defeat.”
“Now breathing.  Now I am exhaling.”
“Crying….; wet…hot…”
“Now tightness in my throat.”
“Thinking.”
“Now thinking of memories from childhood.”
“Now this layer.  Thought.  Trying, trying sooooo hard.  And being misunderstood.  Feeling like crap.”
“Now breathing.”
“Now tightness.”
“Now ‘old belief’ – ‘I try and no one notices.”
“Aloneness.”
“Quiet.”
“Now regret.”
“Compassion.”
“Softening.”

It went on like this for 20 minutes.  Just naming whatever came into my present moment awareness.  No judgment.  No “going into the story.”  No analyzing the sensation, thought, memory, or emotion.  Only right here.  In the now.  Space.  And Breath.

Gradually, I noticed this:

life returning
a sense of resiliency
an okayness within me
no desire to change what was
letting go of blame, hurt
opening
expansiveness
a sense of connection

Gradually, there was less gripping.  My heart felt restored.  My body — calm.  My emotions — soft, even.

I thought of Lao Tzu’s words: “Can you wait until the mud settles and the waters become clear?”

The water was becoming clear.  Settled and clear.

NAME.
ALLOW.
PRESENCE.

That’s all I did.  I took a “N.A.P.”

This is what heals. This naming “what is.” This spacious allowing. This kind presence. Too often we get caught up in the weeds of our emotions and thoughts, when, really, all we have to do to become untangled from them is to look up and breathe in the expansiveness of the sky.  We get caught up in the waves of our thoughts and emotions instead of allowing them to just rise and and fall on their own…instead of remembering WE ARE THE OCEAN.

REMEMBER WE ARE THE OCEAN, as Tara Brach says.

Bitterness.  Confusion.  Gone.

In their place:  a gentle, compassionate, spaciousness for holding the deeper hurt within me – holding and regarding what longed to be seen within me.

But had I not just “allowed” and softened and breathed and named whatever it was that came into my awareness and held it all with gentle, gentle presence…but instead got caught up in the “weeds” of judgment, blaming, separating, I’d still be feeling like crap.  Maybe I would’ve called a friend and they would’ve been like, “Oh that bites, Lisa.  Wow.  They don’t know what a good thing they got!  You are an incredible………….” And I would’ve felt “better.”  For a moment.

But what was needing my attention most WEREN’T the particulars (the waves, the weeds) of what happened.  It wasn’t OTHER people’s reactions or behaviors that needed my attention.  IT WAS ME. The parts of me in need of some healing balm.

So I found myself THANKING these experiences of today – and all the people.  They woke me up to tend to ME.  I found myself BOWING to life and the SIMPLICITY and the ease to which we can suffer less.  Just a bit of spaciousness, naming, allowing, and gentleness.

Doing very little.  And yet healing a lot.

I didn’t change my experiences (or the people around me!). I changed how I related to them. And THAT cultivates peace. THAT is what, as the Tibetans say, brings on the lion’s roar: the capacity of heart to be with whatever arises.

I did call a friend. Well, she happened to call me. And I sat there telling her NOT about the particulars of the day but rather this process and the clearing and the CALM within me now. She gets it. We said very little. Still tender, I went home, lighter, softer, whole.

There’s enough light for all of us to shine

My kiddos are at such a great age: two and five.  They believe whole-heartedly in themselves.  They believe they ARE superheroes.  They can leap any couch or fence or building in New York City.  They believe they are stronger than a tiger or bear or villain.  They can wrestle grandpa to the ground in two super moves.  They believe they can be anything they want to be, including Batman, Wonder Woman, “Super Hurricane”, doctor, police officer, princess, knight, paleontologist, or guitarist.  They believe in themselves — their powers, brawn, and smarts — and the superhero powers of the people who love them.

We all were once like this.

Then “(&*^*$&^#&^$)” happens.

Joey runs a whole heck of a lot faster than we do.  Sally gets every word right on her spelling test – every time.  Zach’s science experiment wins first place – again.  And we start comparing ourselves to others, which is usually accompanied with saying some crappy things to ourselves and internalizing what others say about us.  And slowly over time, we stop believing in ourselves.

So maybe you are a slow runner.  Maybe you still don’t spell well (spell check rocks!).  Maybe you just don’t get physics or biology or even simple science.

So what?!

So what if there is a “better” or “more talented” artist, singer, song-writer, author, athlete, mom, dad, runner,….blah blah blah…you name it?!  Who defines “better” or “more talented?”

I remember being at a writing workshop with a well-known author.  Someone asked, “But there are a bagillion books out there on (whatever the subject was)!”  And she responded, “But not in your voice.  There is no book about …… with YOUR voice, from YOUR point of view.”

She’s right.

Somewhere along the line we stop believing we are gorgeous, talented, loveable, and strong.  Well enough.

For those of you who have been reading my blog for awhile now, you’ll know that I’m all about saying “enough!” to anything that holds us back from believing in our goodness, from aligning ourselves with each other, from doing what delights our hearts.

I’m not living in some fairytale.  I’m in the thick of “reality”…right here with two little ones, a mortgage, a job, struggles and challenges, joys and periods/moments of calm.

And I BELIEVE that we create our realities.

We CAN live a life filled mostly of delight.

I BELIEVE we all our gorgeous and good and beautiful.

And I believe that it is our birthright to own our gorgeous, good, and beautiful selves.

So my forties are going to be about reclaiming the rockstar queen in me.  How that rockstar queen looks may be QUITE different than YOUR rockstar queen.  And that rocks!  There’s enough light for us all to shine – however bright we want to shine!