On Meditation and what we say...

So Day 4 of the Meditation Challenge.

In the spirit of today's meditation, I am going to say it was welcome, wanted, calming, and positive. The theme was how we talk to ourselves and our body, how does our body convey messages to us about what is good and healthy and healing, what messages do we nurture and sustain, which ones do we negate? Actually it was interesting because the conversation today affirms how I work with my clients. Our brains tend to reinforce what we hold true - so if I am depressed, then I will see the world as sad, dark, and threatening. If I am happy I will see possibility, goodness and so on. We do the same with our bodies. If I tell myself I'm tired and achy, chances are pretty good I'm going to feel tired and achy. If I look for what's possible and positive  instead, I feel great if I stretch, it stands to reason I will feel great if I stretch.

Another example is berating myself for not finding that "quiet" space while meditating. I could also say to myself "yay me" for sticking with it and feel good about that.

How we talk to ourselves.... worth meditating about.

Namaste

June 9.... stuff to say...

I have been carrying around some thoughts and on first glance they don't seem to have too much to do with gratitude... but I have done this before and ended up somewhere lovely so here goes.

So yesterday's convo with S is still with me. I have been thinking about how we as women, often, put the relationship above all else. Many of us have put it ahead of our kids, certainly at the expense of ourselves, we drown out our desires and voices and wake up somewhere down the road asking ourselves how we got here. That's hard shit. How do we get ourselves heard? My experience is that sometimes even if we're heard, we're not. Perhaps the problem is the expectation of change once we are in fact heard. Nothing seems simple.

Today I was part of a group that is 99% women. There is a bully among us, among the 99%. No one is speaking up, challenging, putting a stop to it.. I guess that's why it's called bullying. Or mental illness, I'm not sure! Anyhow.. all that to say.. sometimes, you gotta stand up and say stuff that needs to be said. And sadly, even doing that isn't always enough (see, again!). Our voices are drowned out by an emotional reaction, our own guilt or fear, our own insecurity, or for the sake of "peace" - whatever the hell that would look like. Often rather than own our anger and unhappiness we get on board with the insane and say stuff like "Oh, I'm pmsing" or "Oh, I'm menopausal - I'll be less pissed at your inattention and disrespect when I age!" - wtf??? We DO this!

So where's the gratitude in one's voicelessness. How many are the ways we silence ourselves? Because many they are. I've been challenged recently to step up to a place of leadership. But I can see clearly... there is no support there for me. The bully is winning the day. And mostly everyone is afraid of a bully. There is a part of me saying - I can pick and choose my battles and I'm not sure this one merits my energy - precious as it is to me. How do I figure that out?

Gratitude.... in the melee of my day, I hear that I make a difference, I hear that I am being counted on to make a difference, I hear that in fact that is my role. I appreciated very much the definition of that today. From that feedback it would seem I have a voice, and someone is hearing it.

March 12.... lessons

This has been a tough week. I'm glad it's Friday. I'm glad I'm home with Honey, we're having a quiet little dinner, glass of wine, Johnny Cash, it's all good.

This week I learned that I am grateful my mother .. was it my mother???? taught me to stand up for myself, to use my voice, to say hey, what I'm feeling is important. And while doing that - standing up and all - may cause a hornet's nest worth of poo to stir up, and feels awfully uncomfortable, it's gotta be done people, it's gotta be done. I met a woman this week who never learned that, and it's sad, sad in the saddest of senses. What's sad is that woman reminds me I'm grateful for my voice, in the same way thinking of my mother reminds me I'm grateful for my voice - it's the lack of their own that shows me the power of mine. I feel like there may be something not right in that... but I'm grateful for my voice none the less.

And after this long, stressful and weary making week ... I'm grateful for my home, my Honey, my life, my strength, my ability to make choices and understand things; I'm grateful for change, for friends, for the love in my life - cause really, I realize, it sustains me.

Happy Friday.