Monday, August 31, 2015

Where is the focus?

I started this blog to change my focus.  To look for the things that in my life that made me happy, to realize how much I had to be grateful for.   Eventually I started seeing the world differently, the heart breaks didn't go away, but I saw more.   Things were no longer so black and white, the world slowly brightened again and colors came into focus.  

Changing my focus was something that worked for me.  I continued to take photos of whatever made me smile, no matter how silly, or if no one esle got the joke, it was enough that I got the joke.  Slowly I started adding words, and playing with writing again.   

So I am heading into September and lately my focus has been pretty stuck.   It isn't working, and I keep zooming into the pain I am feeling, and the things I am struggling with hoping that I will find the answer. Which means there is an answer, that I believe I will get through this, that I will grow past it and towards something else.  

It has become difficult for me to change my focus, to zoom out, to zoom in to something else.  So it is time to return to basics.   For the next two weeks, I am going to return to my original format of my blog.   I am simply going to take a photo with my phone of something that makes me smile.   

I hope you will join me in this two week experiment.  Pick a person in your life to E-mail or text your photo to, you can send them an E-mail to let them know what you are doing, but after that just something that made you smile.  

See what happens!

Wednesday, August 26, 2015


Adam and I recently had a discussion the other day.  I was feeling pretty poorly, still have a difficult time beating an infection and I don't allow myself enough time to recover.   My tank is running low or on empty and as soon as I feel a little bit of energy, I immediately go on full speed.  It is no wonder that my body pretty much failed this weekend, and I got hit with body aches and a horrible migraine.   

I have not had a migraine like that in years, and I suddenly felt like the Lenore from years ago.  I felt defined by my pain physical and emotional and I felt defined by unhappiness.  I felt like all the work I was doing to get "better" didn't matter.  I actually cried in my doctor's office because I had finally had enough.  Adam insisted that I was a completely different person, that I was handling the pain differently, that I was using different language, and I was still functioning in my life.  

I don't have his perspective.  I don't see what he sees, and I have difficulty trusting what he tells me.  I am sure no one else can relate to the problem of people telling you, "You are doing great."  While you feel like an awkard ball of goo.  

These are the moments when the teachings come together.  When you tell yourself, that learning something new is just like learning to walk.   It is awkward, you fall down a lot, you cry, you end up bruised;  in the end I don't even remember learning to walk.  I don't remember those bumps and bruises, I don't even remember the moment that "I got it."  Eventually I was walking and growing into learning new skills.   

As an adult I feel like I search for that "Eureka moment"  the moment that things come together and I understand.  Even if the understanding goes away, I know I had it for a second.   Since I am searching for that, I must believe it exists, I must trust that I will experience it, otherwise I would search for something else.  

As I go about this new search, this new endeavor, I will either experience it or not.  One way or another I will have an answer and a new question all at the same time.  

Question to consider: What are you searching for right now?  What do you believe exists? 

Friday, August 21, 2015


What happens when you set a standard for yourself when you are 12 years old?  I am sure that I set a bunch of standards for myself when I was 12, that I have completely let go and don't even remember what they are.

There is one clear standard has remained from when I 12.  When my Great-Uncle died, I refused to go the hospital to say good bye to him.  I can still remember the anger I expressed to my parents because I decided they had given up on him.   I remember yelling "he can still get better, he has before."   I remember trashing my room, when my Dad left to go the hospital.  I remember my heart breaking when my Dad told me my Great Uncle passed away.  In that moment, I made myself a promise, I set a standard to avoid feeling that type of pain again.   That I would always go say good bye to someone I loved who might be dying, if possible.  I would not be afraid of going into hospitals, hospices or any other place.  I would be there for my loved ones.  

In reality, there is still pain associated with loss of a loved one.  Sometimes it is dramatic and sometimes it is a slow ache.   Yesterday I got a call asking me to pray for my cousin who is in ICU, and my mom asked if I could go.   There seems to be a lack of information, because we get to wait.   Wait to see if she heals.   I have been fighting an infection and need a couple of days to rest.  When I told my mom that, I was suddenly that 12 year old girl again.   

Not in terms of throwing a temper tantrum, but in terms of feeling vulnerable and exposed.  So I will wait, wait for more information, wait for my body to heal.   I will love that little 12 year old girl, that was in so much pain, say my prayers and accept that right now that is enough.   

Question to consider:  What standards did you set as a child that you still follow today?  

Thursday, August 6, 2015


Here I am getting settled to teach a class, at a studio to some of my dearest friends and mentors.  To say that I freaked out when one of my favorite teachers in the whole world wanted to learn from me would be a complete understatement.  Nevertheless, I showed up, with props!   

Here I was with my sequence and all of my ideas, and a group of women that were eager to play.  So I started with breathing.   Mostly to make sure that I kept my breathing, that I took a moment to remember whatever thoughts and story was going through my head of not being enough, didn't matter at that moment.  

I finished the class and wasn't sure how it went.  My attention quickly went to the future.  I was subbing a class at the studio, and thankfully I accepted last minute so I only had an hour and a half to try to talk myself out of it.  

I got to the next class, forgot my mat in the car but I still had my notes.   That carefully planned out sequence...   This might sound crazy, but at one point I realized that I was teaching.  I realized had left the carefully planned out sequence and was listening to what the students had commented that they wanted to work on so I began to panic internally.  I suddenly felt how much of myself I was sharing with these students.  

I was up there to share my practice, to share what I do.   I don't quite know how to explain it, I felt completely exposed, naked even.  I spend so much time practicing by myself, in the early mornings, that suddenly I felt like I was on display.  I wanted to run away, so many times during the class I wanted to run away.  I wanted to look around for someone else to take over, to look for the person that knew better, the person with more....   When I realized there was just me, things got more uncomfortable for me.   I kept going, not knowing what was going to come next.   

I wondered if I was going to have a panic attack, and so I continued to share my practice.  I went with what I thought might calm me down, what would settle me down.  This honestly created the feeling of more vunerability, because it was a true test of my practice.  It was one of those "I hope this works." moments.   

Even with all that discomfort, I signed up to start teaching another regular class.  (Next week I go from teaching 1 regular class a week to 4, with random ones thrown in.) 


Because the universe opened up some doors for me when I asked to find my voice.   These are the doors that I noticed and these are the doors I will walk through and see what I find on the other side. 

Question to consider:  When you want to run away screaming, what do you do to stay on task?