Month: November 2019

It didn’t take long upon arrival home from The School for The Work to have a big thought hit me like a small truck load of bricks. 

What we thought was a clog in the washing machine drain, with three different plumbers coming over to clean the blockage out, turned out to be a break in the sewer line. 

The proposed bill to fix the sewer?

$13,090. 

Now, I saw “we” but this is not technically my house. It’s my son and daughter’s house they inherited from their dad when he died a little over a year ago. 

I cheered them on in keeping the house. What a wonderful idea! 

My son moved into the basement apartment and with a whole lot of my help, we spruced up the upper floor like crazy with fresh paint and new fixtures and carpet….and rented it out. 

Six months later this happens. 

How do you react when you get an unexpected huge bill?
(If you want to watch me speak this inquiry on facebook live, you can see these on Mondays right here.)

In this case a pipe appears to be broken, but this can happen with medical situations, accidents, legal matters. 
Something needs to be fixed, whether it’s a car, a broken bone, cancer, a dead refrigerator or toilet, a cracked sewer….and BAM. 

You “have to” pay.

Is it true?

Find your honest answer. Notice the feeling of “no choice” in the matter.

Can you absolutely know it’s true?

Well, in my case it is not true at all. We haven’t accepted the bid proposal yet, there are already other options, and someone just said insurance might cover it if it’s tree branches (which is highly possible). 

What happens we you think you have to pay, though?
Victim Thinking! This shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have to do this. I’m burdened, this is BAD, I don’t wanna. 

Thoughts like “I should have done it differently in the past, and then this could have been avoided.”

Isn’t the mind bonkers? It loves to come up with alternate life stories based on changing a moment in the past that’s already over. 

I notice also I feel threatened when I believe the thought that something shouldn’t cost that much, or I have to pay it, or it shouldn’t be happening. 

I believe I won’t have enough, haven’t had enough, need to be careful about having enough, and won’t have enough later on in the future.

It’s almost paranoid. 

(Drop the “almost”).

Who would I be without the belief “this shouldn’t be happening” and “I HAVE TO PAY”?

Certainly not a victim or a tiny small entity with no say or no clarity.

Without these beliefs I feel empowered and curious, actually. I feel aware, fascinated. 

I also notice there’s nothing happening except numbers on a piece of paper called a Proposal. It’s no big deal.

I even remember this happening once before on my own second house I lived in as a young married woman with small children, when the whole entire septic system failed and it cost $20,000 to fix in the very first year of living in the house. I remember the torment and analysis of the funding, and the refinancing of the house to find the money to pay.

I also remember there was always enough food to eat, the house always worked to live in, there was safety, comfort, life went on.

Maybe I’m the one who is supposed to take care of sewage. Why not?

I can do it. I’m good at it. 

I love The Work, for example. Taking care of the sewage of the mind. The muck and dirt the thought patterns flash as warning signs, as visitors from beyond. 

Nothing terrible has happened. Turned around: all this shouldn’t have happened in my thinking. I don’t “have to” pay. I’m not burdened. I “get to” pay, if I do. We don’t even know yet what’s being paid, and to whom. LOL. 

And it’s unlikely the amount will come to $13,090. 

I get to contribute to the care of an old house and be the one to improve it and make it beautiful.

It’s a privilege, a joy. 

Why not me?

I love the feeling of jumping in, helping something get fixed. I know that even when I haven’t had the money, step by step I’ve figured out where to get it–especially when my mind is free from all that negative thinking about not having enough.

I’m looking forward to the adventure ahead of fixing a sewer (again). Negotiation skills will be honed. Questions will be asked. People will be invited in who are experts. 
That’s who I am without my story. It’s strangely exciting. 

Even thrilling. 

But even if you’re afraid and you have a big unexpected bill landing on you….notice how safe you are, how quiet. 

Wow.

Who would you be without your story?

“There are two ways to sit here: suffering or not. And then if I reach out for the cup of tea and I pour it and I spill it: “Oh my God! Life is tough–I failed again.” But you know, how else can the tea spill? I’m needed for that. When the tea spills, that’s when I’m a success. When it doesn’t spill, that’s when I’m a success. I’m doing my job.” ~ Byron Katie in Who Would You Be Without Your Story?

Much love, Grace

The School for The Work just completed, and I’m flying home from Los Angeles to Seattle. Out of the sun and into the mist. 

I’ll admit it.

Being on staff during the 9 day school was intense, focused work. Lots of duties, many details, 210 participants and about 50 staff. 

The behind-the-scenes organization is masterful. I am humbled by the effort put into creating this school for 30+ years. 

There was one small problem.
My aching right hamstring injury. 
Or should I say one BIG problem. 

Oh the pain.

If you’ve been reading Grace Notes for awhile, you might remember the story when I first tore my right hamstring six years ago, and had surgery to repair it by pinning it back onto the sits-bone. Ew. I don’t even want to think about it.

For a few years, it seemed like it was doing OK. Never back to “normal”….but OK. 

And then….the pain changed.

It got worse. 

Always only on the right side, always radiating from that injury site up into my lower back, up the right soaz and all the muscles in my right side below the rib cage. When it’s intense, it’s like my whole right side butt cheek is inflamed or on fire. A strange nervy type pain. 

(And yes, I’ve been to a lot of specialists and have lots of physical therapy exercises some of which seem to help a whole lot. Sometimes it dies down to a 2 level pain and I’m totally relieved).

And sometimes…. 

Level 9 out of 10. Like…excruciating. I almost can’t stand upright, and I can’t sit down either. Lying flat appears to be the only thing offering relief, and it still burns and throbs. 

Well, that happened right here during the School. 

Yippee Skippee!!

Maybe it was because I was on my feet so much the very first set up day when all the participants registered and arrived. 

I don’t really know, to be honest.

But oh the thoughts.

• I should be able to be on my feet a long time, just like I used to be
• My easy life in a healthy body is over 
• I should not have this chronic pain
• This pain is preventing me from enjoying myself
• I can’t be free with this thing called pain
• I can’t do my job well
• My body is failing me
• Those doctors/surgeons screwed up my hamstring
• I shouldn’t have had the surgery
• I wish I wasn’t here
• This injury will make it impossible for me to fulfill my dreams (travel, hiking, moving, playing, being)
• My life is ruined

Right there in the middle of the school….I knew I needed to begin The Work. Just like all the amazing participants who inspired me as they navigated their own inner minds and worlds day by day.

Is it true my life is ruined right in the middle of that pain? Is it true it should be easy? And that easy means pain-free? Is it true I can’t do my job, or I shouldn’t have even come?

No! 

But here’s where I found something fascinating and interesting, right here in this question three: How do you react, what happens, when you believe these difficult thoughts about the pain?

First of all, I saw pictures of going back to the surgeon for a follow-up and being demanding, persistent, intense. I saw pictures in the past of how out of it I was for 3 months of no weight on that leg and how shriveled looking it was in 2013. 

But then I noticed something fascinating. A belief hovering in the background: I should never mention this, I will disappoint people if I can’t do my job, it is embarrassing. 

How I reacted when I believed this was….I pretended it wasn’t there. 

And by Day Four I had to lie down flat on my hotel room bed, take an advil, and let the wonderful person I was working for that evening know I couldn’t stand upright anymore, or sit. 

I didn’t like it.

An old story came into view about this pain: it’s weak to have physical ailments, I’ll disappoint people, they won’t think I’m valuable.

Yowser. 

see my grandfather, Mr Tough Guy. A lead surgeon at a hospital with lots of strength, stamina and opinions. I see my mother, also tough (and extremely into health and well-being). 

I see my mother criticizing my father for his lack of health.

I see my grandfather criticizing his wife and family for their lack of health or potential lack of health. Lots of emphasis on sports, fitness, perfect weight, no physical problems of any kind. Sick people are weak.

I remember the story of the treacherous race to the South Pole in 1912 when British explorer Lawrence Oates said to his teammates “I’m just going outside. I may be some time.” He knew full well he was sacrificing himself (he was dying of frostbite) so the others could trek on and potentially survive. 

So British. Which is, by the way, my ancestry (I happen to be a British citizen). 

Who would I be without the story that physical ailment or pain or absence of health is terrible, disappointing to others and to myself, wrong, something I go to war with AND something I should keep on the down low?

Wow. 

I’d feel the sensation of pain, notice the incredibly strong message it’s giving. 

I wouldn’t collapse in sadness within, I’d talk about what

I’m feeling without embarrassment. I might not “explain” with long stories so I can justify my lack of contribution. I wouldn’t worry about anyone else’s opinions. 

I wouldn’t make it “my” pain and something about “me” or something I associate with shame. 

I’d just move until I couldn’t, and take care of this body as best I could, the whole time. Not ignoring it. Not worrying.

Turning the thoughts around:

• I should be as I am now–standing as long as I’m able to right now (not as I used to be). Now is Now. 
• My easy life in a healthy body is not over. And, the original thought doesn’t even make sense because as a young woman I had pain, injury, illness in various forms over time. 
• I should have pain. Because I do. And it helps me rest and get quiet and lie down–mentally, physically, spiritually. Not believing I need to maintain an appearance or ignore this beautiful body.
• This pain is NOT preventing me from enjoying myself. I chuckled, teared-up, listened, belly-laughed all at the same time as my right glute has been on fire.
• I can be free with this thing called pain. My mind can be free to make friends with anything. My mind runs all over about a zillion other things besides the pain–it’s unlimited in its exploration, despite physical sensation called “pain” underway in the body.
• I CAN do my job well. I got up and worked every day, I followed the directions.
• My body is succeeding for me (rather than failing). Woah. My thinking is failing me. My body is sending a signal to keep me on the path towards healing, and acceptance, and compassion. 
• Those doctors/surgeons did NOT screw up my hamstring. They made the best suggestion they could, they applied their skill, and the surgery was successful at the time. 
• I should have had the surgery. It’s over. I did. I can’t know what it would be like without it. 
• My injured thinking will make it impossible for me to fulfill my dreams (travel, hiking, moving, playing, being)–if I keep believing my thoughts about pain to be true.
• My life is created (not ruined). Each day a new day, working with this body as it is. One day, this body won’t be here anymore–the way of it. Body, on its way out eventually. My thinking is what is ruined–especially when it believes pain is terrible.

I continue considering good reasons for pain to be present in my life. 

Noticing the mental and emotional pain in my life made me inquire into the nature of the mind, into suffering, into reality. 

That suffering brought me to my first School for The Work. 

The School changed my entire life–perhaps even saved it. 

Yes, I can find good reasons for the pain I’ve experienced.

Benefits. 

Thank you pain for being a part of my life and pointing me towards understanding, and love.

Thank you pain for allowing me to notice you’re not such a big deal after all. 

Thank you pain for bringing me to my knees in surrender. 

Thank you pain for allowing me to learn and notice what hurts, and what doesn’t, and to stop complaining and start inquiring.

Sometimes the ONLY option is to turn to what hurts, notice, do The Work, make the best decision.

Time to die to the complaining, the mental torture, the analyzing, the panic about the future. 

I’m just going outside. I may be some time.

If you’d like to sink into some of the pain you’ve experienced in your lifetime–whether physical, emotional, mental, spiritual–then come sit with me and my friend Tom Compton at Breitenbush Hotsprings for 3 days. Room for just a few more. Read more here. 

Much love, Grace

• December 5-8 I’m with the good Tom Compton as we co-facilitate a winter retreat at Breitenbush Hotsprings in Oregon (getting full)
• Eating Peace Retreat January 15-20 in Seattle is a wonderful adventure in freedom from eating concerns, eating thoughts, consuming thoughts, worries about fatness or thinness (1 more spot).
• Divorce/Breaking-Up/Separation Is Hell: Is It True? online course co-facilitated with the delightful Nadine Ferris France, begins again January 12-March 8 Sundays 11:00am-12:30pm PT.  

As you read this, I’m probably already on an airplane to Los Angeles, with my final destination in Ojai, California and the School for The Work. 

Two years ago when I went to the school to be on staff, I hadn’t been in 11 years and I was sooooo excited. 
It was a magnificent adventure. 

The rolling green grounds of the inn, with lemon and orange trees and white stucco mission-style buildings, the bright sage-smell in the air. Every day brought a new scene, a brand new person to do The Work with, a new encounter, old friends I got to know in a new way.

Moments in the big conference room for the all-school sessions, a short walk out on the grounds, a close conversation with an inquirer; listening, laughing, following, noticing. 

And….well….fires.

Something I had never seen or thought about much before. Fires were burning in the near vicinity. The very first night, an evacuation plan was being formed. And quickly deemed unnecessary. 

All I ever actually saw of an actual fire in October 2017 was a scorched blackened area off the highway with a little smoke wisping up to the sky, as I gazed out from the large shuttle bus window at the very end of the school. 

Other than that, the only fire I ever saw was in my mind.
So this year, I decided to check the maps on the google.
Oh, look at that. Icons of orange and yellow flames on the map near Los Angeles, flames in the hills not far from Los Angeles, flames between Los Angeles and Ojai, and many flames in northern California. 

I saw also that the whole area, including Ojai, is considered some kind of red high-watch hot zone. 
Everything’s incredibly dry, the air quality is probably bad….

….and….they’re off! 

I’m referring to the images. Thoughts. In my own head. 

Like a horse galloping ahead, or a whole herd of them stampeding (kind of like I saw on one video about a fire somewhere in California, no idea where–there were horses running out of flames). 

Then thoughts like “this will be a hassle”.

Or much worse “this is very dangerous”.

It’s fascinating to take in information and data, record it in the mind (which happens so quickly) and watch the image-i-nation. 

Image-i-nation. A ‘nation’ of images rises up, with possibilities about the future, and reminders of the past. 
I can barely start believing all the thoughts about fire danger.

But. 

I’m imagining the dread or loss of people who live near these areas. I look at the pictures in my head which look remarkably just exactly like the few pictures I’ve seen on news reels of red fires burning near freeways and fire fighters spraying water on scorched earth. I’ve heard from a few clients who have been evacuated.

It’s not exactly like I’m thinking “oh good, I hope I get to see some of this action!” 

I’d rather not see any fires. 

Is it true, though, that while there is potential danger (self-inquiry is not about denial); I’m not safe, or I wasn’t safe in the past, or I won’t be safe in the future?

No. 

It’s true this body will die at some point. 

But is that to be considered proof of lack of safety? Do I need to be worried today, this moment now, because something terrible MIGHT happen?

No. 

I notice when something dramatic has apparently happened in my life, I’ve responded. Often there’s an automatic response, and then the thoughts all pour in later, after the thing is already over. 

The mind, although it seems very quick, is actually quite slow. Something happens, and THEN it starts thinking about it. 

How do I react when I have a thought that something uncomfortable or terrible bad might happen in the future?
This doesn’t have to be about fires. 

What do you notice happens when you anticipate something might occur that’s not safe?

I secretly hope it’s cancelled. I avoid the danger zone. I avoid that person. I think “the world is safe in the following areas (x, y, z) but not in these areas (a, b, c)” and I make sure to avoid (a, b, c). 

I talk to myself internally; “Why’d you decide to go now? You should have known it would be fire season.”

I picture an alternative version of life, sitting on my couch drinking tea, enjoying my family when they have a day off on Veteran’s Day holiday (11/11) and we’re all at home rather than me being in California. 

I list even more benefits quickly of staying at home, like earning income, so I start seeing advantages for not going besides not being burnt to death. 

LOL. 

Who would I be without this dreadful thought that something horrible involving fires could happen?

This is never about pretending I’m not scared, or that fire isn’t dangerous. It’s about taking in reality with awareness, openness, ready to respond clearly. 

Without the thought, I carefully check the maps and messages. I allow the data to come in to my awareness, I gather information, and I trust the process. I see visions of climate change, witnessing, wondering about the world. 

Without the thought, I’m doing laundry and gathering my little suitcase together and considering what I need to bring. Not much. 

Without the thought, I’m wondering about all the sweet people coming to question their fearful minds at this event, and how amazing it is to do that. Feeling open and very relaxed. Thrilled to learn recently of more people I know who will be there. 

Willing, calm, ready.

Feeling very lucky and grateful. Knowing there will be several hundred people with smart ideas and resources all ready to help each other out if something happens. 

Without the belief in lack of safety, I’m aware of other mishaps or emergencies I’ve been a part of that I’ve survived. I’m even appreciating the existence of fear and how it serves a purpose.

Turning the story around: nothing dangerous will happen, whatever happens will be just right. Nothing terrible will happen. Something wonderful will happen. Only in my mind, terrible things will happen (have already happened). I am quite safe, whatever happens. Even death, for all I know–it certainly appears to be the Way of It that I’ll die. 

Could these be just as true, or truer?

Who is this “I” who needs to be “safe” anyway? 

If the way of it is life happens, then death happens, then life happens….I notice the privilege of even being able to think about this and be aware of it. 

I notice dramatic loss, starting over again from scratch (which has happened in my own life), perspectives being burned….is not such a bad thing. It’s not easy or comfortable. And that’s OK. 

What a marvel. 

Speaking of fires….I recently got to speak with the delightful Margot Diskin, a facilitator of The Work who lives in France. 

She shared one story about a fire she encountered herself, and to her surprise….no fear. 

Much love,Grace

P.S. I’m gathering information again about your experience of eating IF you feel like it’s not peaceful. If you feel bad about your eating, your body or some foods….I’d love if you’d complete a survey for me. 

There are ten questions and it should only take about ten minutes (but be as thorough as you like). This helps me continue to get better and better at working with people with compulsive or emotional eating concerns, or weight issues. 

To fill out the survey (secure and anonymous) visit HERE.