gratitude – Jenn Sheridan

Ostrich-ization

I have a confession to make, something that has been weighing on me for quite some time. I am a bit of a . . . well, no, more than a bit. I am a full-blown, head-in-the-sand OSTRICH. Phew, I said it. What a load off! Wait, what’s that? What does it mean to be an ostrich? Well, it means that when I start to feel overwhelmed with life, I tend to hole up, putting my head in the proverbial sand and allowing myself to look at only what I must to get through the day, the week, or even, I’m embarrassed to admit, the year. Well, that’s not so bad, you might think. Focus is a good survival skill. And yes, in small amounts, it is a truly necessary skill, especially when you have a lot of balls in the air in this busy, busy life. But escapism and avoidance? They cut you off from your source, from love and joy and laughter, and ultimately from living.

The irony here is that ostriching is just about as opposite to my life philosophy as you can get and still be me. See, I am a big believer in self-awareness, consciously looking at myself and where I am and seeing what is keeping me from accomplishing my goals and attaining my dreams. I have invested a lot of time and energy (and I mean A LOT) in personal growth exercises, classes, retreats, etc. over the years, and, as a result, I have, well, grown a lot over the years because of it. I’ve weeded my mental and emotional gardens, exposing and excising all those hidden roots for the dandelion-like issues that always seem to find fertile soil to grow in. I believe in doing a little spring cleaning several times a year, not just in my physical space, but mentally and emotionally to keep exposing any missed roots that might be clogging up my flow. I believe in looking directly at what scares me, looking that fear directly in the face and calling it out for what it is. I believe in feeling the fear and doing it anyway, especially because I know that whatever I feel fear about is life’s way of nudging me towards my next area of self-growth.

So when I pulled my head out of the sand last week, I was astonished to discover that in many respects, I’d been hiding in that fear-based sand for over a year and a half. I’d gotten overwhelmed when my second baby was born (oh yes, that baby who is now 20 months old) and I’d managed to compartmentalize my brain so that things I couldn’t deal with went into a segment that was pretty much a black box, taking stuff in but not allowing things out, so I had fewer things to look at and deal with at any given moment. It is a very effective short-term strategy, but an absolutely abysmal long-term one that can cause mental, emotional, spiritual, and even physical anguish.

I received an email from a friend recently with a story that eloquently describes what happened to me during this time of ostriching:

“A young lady confidently walked around the room while leading and explaining stress management to an audience with a raised glass of water. Everyone knew she was going to ask the ultimate question, ‘half empty or half full?’ She fooled them all: ‘How heavy is this glass of water?’ she inquired with a smile. Answers called out ranged from 8 oz to 20 oz.

She replied, ‘The absolute weight doesn’t matter. It depends on how long I hold it. If I hold it for a minute, that’s not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my right arm. If I hold it for a day, you’ll have to call an ambulance. In each case it’s the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.'”

Those “weights” that I stashed away for another day may have started out light as a feather, but by the time I realized I could not carry them anymore, each one weighed a thousand pounds. The longer I carried such heavy weights, the more I ostracized myself from my source. At different times throughout that year and a half I was filled with anxiety, struggled with depression, experienced physical pain throughout my body (migraines; back and knee pain), struggled with finances, and lived in a mental fog that I couldn’t seem to clear myself of. Every time I found myself in such anguish, I would be baffled by it. I was working hard at creating the life I had been wanting to live, enabling many of my life’s dreams to begin to be fulfilled, but at the end of the day I still felt somewhat numb, only halfway able to experience the joy that came along with it.

And so last week I gave myself the great gift of de-ostrich-izing myself. I lifted my head from the sand and shined a light on what was hiding inside that black box inside my head. I put down all of those thousand-pound weights and restored them to their feathery lightness. I took care of some long overdue tasks, and crossed about a gazillion things off of my to-do list in a flurry of clarity and lightness and energy that I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. The result? In addition to all of the little tangible benefits of “getting stuff done,” I’ve had a return of my ME-ness. I feel more authentic, more at peace, more capable of taking on the world when I need to, and more capable of asking for help when I need to. I am returning to my practice, rewarding myself with my meditation time in the mornings, and sleeping better at night. The creative juices are flowing again and I have ideas bubbling up all over the places, just begging to be birthed out into the world. The numbness is fading, and my deep gratitude for this life I am creating and living is present without my having to work at it.

As I write this, I feel once again the deep sense of relief I experienced last week, along with a renewed sense of awe that I allowed it to go for so long. But I’ve found that’s what happens when you ostracize (or ostrich-ize!) yourself from life — you can no longer hear the messages that life is trying so hard to send you. And so, here I go again, doing my internal spring cleaning, clearing out the weeds in my internal garden, planting new seeds that I hope will shine light when the dark places try to re-emerge, grateful for this opportunity to continue to grow, and grateful for this awareness that has once again pushed me out of my comfort zone and back out into the world to share my stories along this crazy journey called life, my own personal journey of learning to fly. Namaste.

Love~n~Hugs

“Remember that you don’t choose love; love chooses you. . . . Feel the way it fills you to overflowing then reach out and give it away.” ~ Kent Nerburn

The other night, I was home alone with both boys at bedtime — while this becomes a little less daunting with each passing week, it still has its challenges. I can easily get caught up in worrying about how I’m going to get Bean down to sleep, planning out how I’m going to juggle everything, needing things to go a certain way. Anyone with a toddler (or heck, another human being) at home can probably guess how well that goes. But Spider Boy is one of my great teachers, and this night, as with so many nights, he granted me the gift of the present moment.

Spider Boy’s bedtime routine goes something like read a book, change into an overnight diapers and pajamas, read a second book, say good night to the lights, and then, since he’s moved into his toddler bed, your guess is as good as mine, but eventually he falls asleep. When it’s just me, I nurse Bean while I read (if he’ll let me) and let him hang out in the toddler bed or on the reading bed (i.e. the queen bed that’s in Spider Boy’s room) while I get Spider Boy into his nighttime attire. At 5.5 months, Bean gets more mobile every day, so this arrangement makes me nervous and I tend to have half my attention on each boy during this process, much to Spider Boy’s chagrin. He often shows his frustration by attempting to do something he knows will get my attention (i.e. climb up onto the changing table and dance), but if one or both of us is at the aware end of the spectrum, he simply asks for my love. On this particular night, during a not-unusual pajama struggle, I laughed in an attempt to diffuse my own frustration and shift the energy in the room, then leaned over and gave him a big hug and a kiss. He thought this was funny and asked for another big hug. We both laughed, and he asked for another hug. We both laughed some more, and he asked for another hug. I lost track somewhere around 30 hugs as we were both giggling and my abs were sore from bending over the bed to give him his hugs and kisses. Bean watched us with his beatific smile while chewing on a blanket (I may change his name to Cloth Boy), and I sent up a silent prayer of gratitude for the love and joy of this moment.

See, Spider Boy is smart — he has figured out that love is something Mum is always willing to give. And I guess he comes by those smarts honestly, because I have figured out that I have an infinite supply of love available with which I can feed his need. Of course, we stumbled across this knowledge by accident one day when Bean was just a couple of months old and the three of us were at the grocery store. Bean had fallen asleep in the car, so he was still in his carseat in the back of the cart, and Spider Boy was sitting up in the cart’s seat. The novelty of being at the store had worn off and he was getting antsy, so he was turning around and playing with Bean’s blanket, trying to get him to wake up. I tried asking him to stop and asked him not to wake his brother, but he insisted that he needed his brother to be awake. I took a deep breath, and guessing what this behavior probably meant, I tried a different tack, asking him if he just needed some attention, and if he wanted a hug. He thought about it for a moment, then reached out his arms. I leaned in, gave him a big hug, and told him I would always stop to give him a hug, he just had to ask.

It was a slow trip through the store that day with stops for at least eight more hugs, but all three of us left happy. Bean got his much-needed newborn rest; Spider Boy got the attention he was craving; and I learned that love really can shift behavior. It’s a point I reiterate to him frequently, and I practice what I preach, literally dropping everything for hugs. Does Spider Boy use this to delay eating/getting dressed/climbing into the car/going to bed/etc.? Sure, although not as much as you might expect. Do I mind? No way. Because I love him, and he knows it. And nothing is more important than that. Namaste.

Originally posted on Pachamama Spirit

Roller-coasting

You know, when I was nineteen, Grandpa took me on a roller coaster . . . Up, down, up, down. Oh, what a ride! . . . I always wanted to go again. You know, it was just so interesting to me that a ride could make me so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited, and so thrilled all together! Some didn’t like it. They went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing. I like the roller coaster. You get more out of it. ~ Parenthood

I am on an emotional roller coaster these days. Today is my little Bean’s 4-month birthday. He is such a sweet delight, and brings me so much joy. But this is an anniversary of mixed feelings as it denotes that I am returning to work next week.

Whether or not to be a working mom could be, I’m sure, the subject of many posts. This is not going to be one of them. But this experience is an opportunity, like so many opportunities, for anxiety to rise up, along with all of my niggling doubts (and self-doubts), and the full range of my emotions to spill out of me (often onto those around me). But it is also an opportunity, like so many opportunities, for me to practice my craft, practice connecting to source, practice trusting that what is best for all of us is manifesting in our lives right now, practice staying present to the now instead of wandering off into what is still yet to come.

The practice, however, is not always my first stop these days. Sleep deprivation and not taking enough time for self-care (not necessarily in that order) have left me a little rough around the edges. After I nursed Bean back to sleep at 3 o’clock this morning, I could not fall back asleep myself. He and his brother had spent the whole day at daycare yesterday, and I was struggling with how little time I got to spend with either of them that evening. Not because of the evening itself, but because I was worried that this is how it is always going to be moving forward, and I was anxiously trying to figure out how on earth I was going to ever be able to spend enough quality time with them to satisfy me. *sigh*

I won’t bore you with the ugly details of the next couple of hours. Suffice it to say I worked myself into a lovely lather before the practice kicked in. But finally, I was able to come to a place where I could honor the emotions I was feeling (fear, sadness, and love, oh so much love). I gave myself permission to not have to be the absolutely best mom/wife/daughter/manager/colleague/friend for a little while. I remembered that what happens next week is next week’s opportunity for practice, and that today all I have to focus on is, well, today. I breathed in the intoxicating smell of baby and looked deep into his joy-filled eyes and enjoyed that single moment, and then the next, and then the next, and remembered that I don’t have to spend all day, every day with him to have these divine moments.

Parenting is a practice. It is not the easiest practice I’ve encountered, but it may be the most effective. It triggers such intense joy, but also all of my doubts and fears. And behind every trigger is an opportunity to release and let it all go and come back into the present moment so much more aware, so much more appreciative, and so much more joyful. As I write about today’s roller coaster, the emotion that most strongly comes to mind is gratitude. Today was a gift. Ah, thank you! Namaste.

Originally posted on Pachamama Spirit

Love is all you need

When I woke up this morning, there was nothing to suggest that this day would offer up a zen parenting moment. Life since the baby was born has involved a lot of sharp contrasts, extreme emotions playing out across each family member in a variety of ways. Our two-year-old son has been the hardest hit, especially since we had to move a week after his baby brother was born. We have spent the 3+ months since then observing him very closely, following his lead wherever possible in an attempt to return a sense of stability and security to his world.

The word I would have used to categorize today was “overly.” He was overly tired, overly sensitive, overly frustrated. Despite this, we managed to eke out a few enjoyable moments during our Halloween festivities this morning, then brought him home for an early nap. Unfortunately, that nap got started in the car, often the kiss of death for the rest of the day. As usual, this gave him the false sense of a second wind, and just intensified the “overly” he had already been feeling. It took several hours, but he finally succumbed to a deep, late-afternoon nap.

When he woke up a couple of hours later, he was disoriented and out of sorts. I went in to him and just rubbed his back. He settled almost immediately and we stayed like that for a minute or two. He’s never been a particularly cuddly baby, so at one point I straightened and removed my hand. He started crying and got up on his knees, grabbing my hand and pulling it back into the crib. I got back to rubbing his back and just breathing with him. I asked him if he wanted to cuddle in my bed, a new favorite pastime of his that often doesn’t include much recognizable “cuddling.” He grabbed his hippo lovey and let me carry him into the master bedroom.

I was already feeling pretty blessed to have had such an intimate moment with him, and was expecting this to shift into a more familiar silly and riled up moment. But his energy was still really quiet and subdued, so I wasn’t entirely surprised when he wanted to lay down on me as his pillow. After a few attempts, we found a position that worked well for both of us — a half sitting hug of sorts — and settled into it. That is when the magic happened.

Simply put, I held him. My arms were around him, hugging him, stroking his hair, expressing my love wordlessly. My mind was fully and completely focused on him in this moment. While I did send him Reiki, mostly out of habit, there was much more of a sense of “being” rather than “doing” to this experience. There were no expectations, no wandering off into analyzing what this all meant, no trying to figure out what he needed and whether or not I was meeting that need. It felt like I was listening to him on another plane of existence, listening to his need with an inner ear and answering it with my energetic love. We just breathed in and out and hugged each other, occasionally shifting our weight to get more comfortable, but mostly just staying completely still.

We stayed there for what felt like an hour but was probably less than ten minutes. His dad came in with his brother and they curled up on the bed with us, but it was like we were in our own bubble. And at the end of that time, whenever he had finished refueling, filling himself up with the love being offered him, he pushed off of me and said, “Mommy, let’s go play.” And then he slipped off the bed and ran into the living room.

Young children are so pure, so uncluttered, so simple. I don’t want to confuse “simple” with “easy” or even “basic.” But generally, they wear their needs on their sleeves, and if you’re paying attention and have the right vocabulary and your own batteries are charged up, those needs can be relatively easily met. But those three things — paying attention, having the right vocabulary, and making sure your own batteries are charged — are the most often missed. The complexity we experience as parents so often lies in our own lives, our own experiences, and how we learn to balance our needs with those of our children such that we can both grow and thrive in that experience of love.

Before I started down this path of motherhood, I feared that becoming a parent would mark an end to my spiritual journey. I have learned so much in the last 2+ years, so much that has informed the way I walk this earth, and on days like today, I recognize that it was not only a beginning, but perhaps the only way for me to truly experience the divine. Today I was blessed to experience true grace. As my son ran off down the hall, I was filled with both gratitude and the desire to share my spiritual journey once again, this time from the perspective of mother. Thank you for joining me on this blessed journey!

Originally published on Pachamama Spirit

Step 2: Clear The Slate

From the Steps to Learning How to Fly series.

One of the largest obstacles to living life fully is the white noise, the clutter that builds up in our minds and bodies. Think of yourself as a receiver–in addition to the voice of your intuition, your inner guidance system, you’re getting input from your environment, from the people around you, and from the other voices in your head like fear and your inner critic. We recently got a new clock radio that picks up so many stations, it often dilutes the quality of the ones we want to listen to, creating static and dissonance. This is what having so much input all at once does to you–it clogs up the works so that you can’t hear the messages coming to you from the universe, you can’t discern the difference between what is resonating for you versus what isn’t, you can’t see what is being placed in your path for you to work on. It all just becomes noise.

Clearing the slate is about looking closely at these distractions, cleaning things up inside and out so you can actually see and hear what’s going on. The first place I would recommend looking is at your physical environment. Do you tend to have clutter around you, on your coffee table, your dresser, your desks at home and at work? Are your closets overflowing with all of the things that have just been shoved in there? Is your car full of empty water bottles and fast food bags you were too busy to throw out? When things around us are chaotic and disorderly, it tends to generate chaos in our minds as well. Treat yourself to some time this week to tackle an organization project that has been on your mind for a while, and take a few minutes each day to arrange your home and office, picking things up and throwing things away as you go so that are living and working surrounded by harmony.

As you begin to establish order in your life, you may begin to notice the source of some of your other distractions. Begin to pay attention to your thought processes, especially when you hear things like “I can’t do that because . . .” or “I don’t have time . . .” or “Maybe one day I’ll be able to . . .” The idea that we don’t have enough time to do the things we want to do is a choice. How much time do you spend watching television, having a beer (or two or more), gossiping by the water cooler, playing video games (and yes, computer solitaire counts), or reading about what’s happening in celebrities’ lives? Sure, there are plenty of things we do throughout the day that are necessary, but there are plenty more that are essentially just time suckers, distractions that keep us from even thinking about what it is we’d really like to be doing with our time, let alone actually acting on those ideas.

Another way we distract ourselves is by living in the past instead of in the present, defining ourselves by what has come before instead of where we are today. Each moment is a new moment, with the opportunity to make a new choice. When we cling to old ideas, old beliefs, old patterns, we keep ourselves locked in the past. When we hold on to perceived hurts, we get weighed down, hurting ourselves anew every time we think of them. Letting go of these things fills you with such energy, with such lightness, that you can use it as a springboard, catapulting you in the direction of your dreams. Make the choice to put down the baggage you’ve been carrying around with you, forgiving yourself and those who have hurt you, recognizing that right now is the only moment that really is and choosing to live it from a place of love and light and laughter.

At this point you are probably ready for some cleansing of the body and the mind. A little self-love goes a long way here. You might choose to do a fast of some sort, although really, the goal here is to do something that feels good for yourself, that feels nurturing. It might be as simple as making yourself a special meal where the only special occasion is that you’re taking care of yourself. Or you might choose to eliminate or reduce something in your diet that you tend to overindulge in. Or you might choose to follow the Native tradition of smudging, burning sage to cleanse your home and yourself of any negative feelings or influences that have built up there. Whatever you choose to do, find something that is meaningful to you and imbue it with a sense of ceremony, allowing it to really sink in on all levels.

Following are a couple of exercises you can use to help with the process of letting go. You might use them alone or in conjunction with some of the ideas we’ve already discussed here. I don’t follow any specific schedule, but when things start to get clogged up for me, I often receive a message that says it is time to do a burning bowl or do some forgiveness work. When you listen to your inner wisdom, you will know when is the right time for you as well.

Forgiveness Exercise

There are many guided meditations out there that will walk you through a forgiveness exercise. I like to do this simple exercise that is a melding of various traditions I’ve been introduced to along the way.

Start by making yourself comfortable in a sitting position–you can use a more traditional meditation stance if you’d like, but sitting cross-legged in your favorite chair works just as well. Close your eyes and spend a few minutes breathing deeply, visualizing the tension flowing out of your muscles as you move from the top of your head down to your toes. You might choose to envision yourself being enveloped in a loving presence, full of kindness and compassion and unconditional love. Know that you are truly loved, inside and out, and that nothing you could ever do would shake that love.

When you’ve achieved a feeling of peace and relaxation, bring into your mind’s eye a picture of the person you are ready to forgive, which might even be yourself, and see them sitting across from you. Visualize this individual in the same state of peace and relaxation that you are. Take a few minutes to speak your peace, stating what it was that they did that hurt you and how it made you feel. This is not about blaming them or telling them that they are wrong–this is a time for you to talk about your perception of what happened and its effects on you. Talk until you’ve gotten it all out of your system and you feel like you are ready to move on.

Keeping the image of this person in your mind’s eye, acknowledge that whether the hurt was intentional or unintentional, you are ready to release it. Tell them out loud that you forgive them and ask for their forgiveness in return. Imagine both of you being filled with a cleansing white light, and allow yourself to float in this light, feeling free of the weight that has just been lifted from you. Allow the other person to float off along their own path, blessing them on their journey. Stay in this white light until you feel the lightness transferred into your physical being.

As they say, nature abhors a vacuum, so take a few moments to focus on what you are grateful for. You can say it out loud or write it down, but really feel that gratitude, allowing it to fill the space that now exists within you. The gratitude does not need to tie back into what was just released, but should feel genuine, and might even bring a smile to your face.

Repeat this exercise every couple of days until you feel like the forgiveness has truly sunk in throughout your body and mind.

Burning Bowl Ritual

There are a variety of different ways to do this ritual, which is often practiced when something is coming to an end as a way of releasing the past before the new work can begin.

Gather together a few materials that you’ll need for this ritual: a candle, a lighter or matches, a pad of paper or slips of paper, a pen, a bowl to catch the ashes. Optional: tweezers, sage.

Write down on individual pieces of paper all of the things that you are ready to release, from an old belief or pattern to a person. Keep in mind that releasing a person does not have to mean that you are rejecting them from your life but it is an acknowledgment that they are on their own path as you are on yours. When you are finished writing things down, take a few moments to relax, closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths to allow any last nuggets to come to mind.

Light the candle you have in front of you. You might choose to say a little prayer, whatever comes to mind about your intention for this ritual. Pick up the first piece of paper, holding onto just the corner. (Optional: use tweezers to hold the pieces of paper to protect your fingers from the flame.) Read what is written on the paper, saying out loud that you are ready to release this belief, pattern, person, etc. Affirm what you accept into your life, the positive thing you’d like to see manifest with this release. For example, if the thing you are releasing is your debt, then you’d say something like: “I release this debt. I know that I am prosperous and I am now living my life from that place of abundance.” Allow this affirmation to sink in as you place the slip of paper in the candle’s flame. Watch the words burn and feel the sensation of release of this concept, allowing the ashes to fall into the bowl in front of you.

Repeat this process with each of the slips of paper you have written on until all has been released. You might choose to take this opportunity to burn some sage to cleanse the residue of what you’ve released from yourself and the room. Do something that feels ceremonious with the ashes–some people like to bury them, I’m okay with just washing them down the drain. Again, you might want to take a moment to do say a prayer affirming your intentions.

I do this ritual periodically, about once every other month or so, depending on what is coming up for me at the moment. There is no right or wrong way to do this–sometimes I’ve done them two days in a row because I remembered more things I needed to release or I felt like something was especially sticky. Just do what feels good here.

Tag: gratitude