Grace, Author at Question with Grace

March 27, 2018

Content to stay in the lowest, least creative position….with cancer

This past weekend, I got to attend retreat with a small group (18 total) in a remote cabin on the crazy, wild, wind-hail-swept Washington state coast. It was called “Sit in The Fire” with Roxann, Byron Katie’s daughter.

I loved sitting with Roxann and all the brilliant group. The sweetness of being NOT in the role of “facilitator” was profound.

I was asked many times what I was doing there or why I signed up as a participant. Seven other people present were already either in my current YOI (Year of Inquiry) program or in last year’s YOI program.

But here’s the deal: I am the most normal, regular, boring, average “thinking” person. I have thoughts that are irritated, nosey, judgmental, hilarious, painful. I have thoughts that have brought me to my knees with suffering. I’ve been scared with adrenaline pumping through my veins, and sad and pissed because someone betrayed me, or totally freaked out because I had no money and no job.

I know it’s kind of weird to say, but it means very little that I show up as facilitator in other contexts and environments and groups.

I’m about as shocked as you are that I’m debt-free, thriving in business, normal with eating and the same weight for many years, and so happy (whatever that is–LOL).

None of those things mean I’m not considering the deep inquiries of life that we all face: death, change, the unknown tomorrow, love, wondering, sharing, feeling, peace (or not peace).

In this past 3-day retreat, I got to sit with my ever-deepening inquiry on cancer: The death of my father from cancer, the death of my friends from cancer, the way cancer has touched me, my sisters, my mother, and other close friends.

I found the belief “cancer took my loved one too soon”.

Cancer was the demon, the dreaded invader. The one who ruined everything, threatens regularly, and will surely do it again.

In this particular retreat, the format allowed for people to do The Work one at a time….focusing deeply with all the group silently supporting, listening, watching, and being there to witness whomever was sharing in the middle.

How do you react when you believe cancer took your loved ones too soon, and kicked you personally, too?

I got to be that normal human being who has experienced and believed the thought of cancer bunches of times…and share the reaction to this thought.

It looked like sobbing.

It looked like collapsing into my own lap and hanging my arms down from my chair, and wailing with tears until the grief was emptied out of me like a river.

I’m not even sure what it looked like, to be honest.

I simply WAS grief, helplessness, childlike rage, missing my dad, the loneliness of missing, remembering, agonizing, shaking my fist at a God who would release cancer on my family and into the world. I was the tiny speck in the universe who didn’t matter. I was a victim, without apology.

I felt it until I was empty. (I love how Roxann asked “are you empty?”)

I remembered all the transactional analysis gestalt therapy I did before I knew of The Work. Beating pillows with a tennis racket, punching bags of anger, shrieking and crying, breaking plates, tearing up phone books to release rage, telling my story without shame.

I remembered how amazing Big Feelings are, and how Byron Katie shares that they must have their life.

Feelings are incredible, really. We even have salt water (tears) come flowing out of our eyes. It’s rinsing out the pain somehow, shaking out the body, energy moving.

And then, the magnificent question.

Roxann asked me, softly.

Who (or what) would you be without this cancer story?

As I sat, feeling it, I felt the curiosity, the quizzical weirdness, the surprise, the openness of that question.

Who, what, where would I be?

What if my father died not too soon, but right on time? And my friend? And my other friend? What if my own cancer, and my sisters and mother’s, was just right?

Not “terriblehorriblenogoodverybad”?

Wow.

And to be witnessed in such a wondering. Who knows what can happen, to hold still in the presence of others and silence, exploring who I’d be without a huge story like “cancer”?

There we were, humans gathered in a circle as we have done for thousands of years. Noticing and being together.

It was so loving to be witnessed and facilitated, to facilitate myself internally within, to answer these questions about reality. To see reality clearly.

The Work is like saying “let’s take a look, shall we?” and exploring together, as people who each have incredibly unique perspectives and yet, here on the playing field as the Same.

No Final Answer. No “right” answer.

To even ask who we’d be…..results in peace.

Turning the thought around: Cancer has always come right on time.

I’ll only be here so long, anyway. Everyone has a limited amount of life, and this situation is temporary. Cancer helps people slow down, say “I love you”, relax, enjoy the present. Cancer causes immediate retirement (like with my dad) and lots of time together with others (I saw my dad daily in my 20s when he was ill, and my friend Carl every other day almost for the entire summer–it’s possible we may have never been closer).

What does it take, to get us connected to true love, to life, to honesty, to being human?

For me, it looks like cancer. And it looks like joining things as a participant who does The Work right in front of everyone.

I’m still finding the examples.

It looks like finding everyone who does The Work in my presence the most amazing, brilliant person, full of such enormous wisdom.

And by the way, I’m so glad and grateful you are with me on this journey of exploring thoughts, painful ideas, having questions, being human. Thank you.

Much love,

Grace

P.S. Living Turnarounds Half-Day on April 22nd 2-6 pm in Seattle has 3 spaces left.

One spot open for commuters to Spring Cleaning Retreat in Seattle at a private gorgeous retreat house in Lake Forest Park neighborhood. AirBnb’s close by if you travel from out of town.

March 21, 2018

Again and again returning to the space between thoughts

Next Living Turnarounds Half-Day is April 22nd 2-6 pm in Seattle at Goldilocks Cottage. Sign up ahead of time to hold your spot–we were totally full last time.

Three spaces open for commuters to Spring Cleaning Retreat in Seattle at a private gorgeous retreat house. AirBnb’s close by if you travel from out of town.

Sometimes, people say they’d like to do The Work but they’re not sure where to begin.

What should I pick?

Here’s one of the best and most simple ways: a relationship that feels troubling from any time in your life. You might love and adore the person, they might not be in your life anymore, they may even have died, or you might see them every single day.

Son, daughter, mother, father, grandpa, grandma, aunt, uncle, sister, brother, boyfriend, girlfriend, whomever you’ve dated, boss, employee, co-worker, best friend.

Life has shown you moments of turmoil or discord with others.

That’s where you can go to begin The Work–seeing someone, anyone, at any time, who in their presence you felt disturbed.

Uncomfortable relating is a huge percentage of our stress.

Compulsive off-balance behavior often comes out of some kind of disruption with a person. My own tendency was always to eat compulsively out of anger, nervousness, sadness or excitement OFTEN resulting from my thoughts and beliefs about other people and what I thought they thought of me.

Even if you’ve done The Work before on someone in your life, maybe many times….

….there’s nothing wrong with repetition, practice, and doing it again.

Each time I sit down for The Work, it’s a new potential discovery. No expectations. Just starting now, with the feeling of Not Liking something that’s been said, done, offered, communicated.

Tomorrow I’m heading for a 3 day retreat with Roxann, Byron Katie’s daughter who’s had the great privilege of doing The Work for 25 years or so.

For an entire month, I’ve been thinking about who I want to do The Work on again in a new way, from the life I’m in now….and I see several familiar faces cross the field inside my mind.

That one bipolar alcoholic boyfriend, the best friend who did the crazy inexplicable betrayal that had to involve a lawyer, the good friend who snapped at me, the sister who cut me off, my former husband divorcing me.

The ones I believe caused trouble.

Even if I know it’s in the past, that it’s over, that it’s now an image or replaying movie….I found incredible turnarounds to “live” because of what went down between me and that person. Benefits. Change. Transformation.

But I kept seeing one person’s face in my mind.

Dad.

If I still tap into the voice of the little girl within (even though I was in fact an adult when he died–barely) I feel the tragedy. I respected him so much. I was so, so sad he died of cancer “too soon”.

Maybe one of the reasons I’ve thought about my dad lately so much, or considered him for my upcoming 3-day inquiry, is that one of my best friends died of cancer last September. He knew my dad. My dad, his dad, my mom and his mom all went to the same church throughout childhood.

My friend’s death was like a replay in many ways of my father’s death. Strangely coincidental. They both had similar personalities of true kindness and a deep abiding love for intellectual learning.

Last summer, when my friend was so ill, I hugged him in a long goodbye and we said “I love you” the way that had become wonderfully comfortable. I wasn’t sure I’d be seeing him again or not. I had a week-long program way in Northern Ontario I was attending (including the topic of death and dying, incidentally).

“I won’t die until you get back” he said to me as I left. We both chuckled with the heartbreak of it. We had many long conversations about death, his death, dying, how he felt about it, about our lives growing up in the same neighborhood and everything we’d ever gone through.

In Canada, I thought about him all the time. He was getting too weak to text, or talk. I went out and walked when my program wasn’t in session.

Along a quiet highway road running near a gorgeous smooth late-summer lake, I suddenly realized I had been on this road before.

When my dad was dying.

The exact same road in a remote place in Ontario, here I was almost 30 years later.

I hadn’t recognized the location at first, where I had taken a writer’s workshop on my honeymoon road trip. I knew that workshop was near this lake, but couldn’t remember exactly where.

Then walking on the very same road, I was there. With the flooding memories of what was happening in my life back then.

Someone I loved and respected and admired was dying.

And there was nothing I could do about it.

So today, I’m writing a Judge Your Neighbor worksheet on my father’s death, including my thoughts about cancer, abandonment, temporariness, suffering….not editing or moving into what I think I “know” about this worksheet and these false thoughts already.

I can look again.

I can walk in the same place again, thirty years later, without even having planned to walk there.

Don’t we look again anyway?

Isn’t it a wonder to notice the repetitive mind and give it care and attention like a little child who repeats the same things over and over, in innocence?

I lost my dad, I lost my friend….is it true?

“You can’t have anything. You can’t have any truth. Inquiry takes all that away. The only thing that exists for me is the thought that just arose….So again and again, we return to the space between thoughts.” ~ Byron Katie

Much love,

Grace

P.S. Facebook LIVE today 10 am Pacific Time. Let’s do The Work starting with how to find and hold that one moment, that situation, and begin our work.

March 21, 2018

Feeling powerless? You can access your power….like this.

Thank you all of you who answered the survey questions I sent last week. So, so much.

Now, we’re taking it a level deeper. Another 4 questions.

Even if you’ve never answered a survey, or filled out anything I’ve sent before, I’d love to read your answers to these four questions.

I find communicating and hearing and reading what you deeply have to say about your experience as an eater….can clarify for me and ultimately for all of us our needs, our emotions, our experiences we’re wondering about and wanting to understand when it comes to eating.

Answer the questions here (and yes, if you answered the first survey, this is a new one and I’d love your answers to these questions, too–thank you):

Share with me HERE.

Communicating has a strong energy in it. It’s wondering with words out loud, or in writing. Making contact. Being honest. Telling the truth.

Speaking and clarifying, and telling the truth about our experiences and our perspectives–even if they aren’t necessarily “True” for all time–is so powerful.

Accessing strength, clarity, or power in a really solid, energetic, sharp, beautiful way is sometimes what is called for as we seek peace with eating and compulsive behavior.

The feeling of powerlessness is so harsh and difficult. Sometimes when we feel like there’s no power anywhere in sight, we feel completely resigned and in prison with this eating thing. No way out.

But there is a way out.

We can say “No more!”

We can pause, and not hit the drive-through fast food places, or eat a whole bag of something. We can stop.

There is another way.

Today, I’m sharing a simple way to access power. You can find your own touchstone or inner picture or word or name that helps you notice power.

This is the good kind of power, where you stand up for what feels true for you. Where you can listen, be, and hold your love and integrity clearly.

Much love,

Grace

March 19, 2018

Peace doesn’t require two people. But sharing with others helps us see how to live it.

I’m sitting as the sun sets on the weekend, watching the yellow-then-rose colored sky over the fence and tall laurel hedge across the street at the neighbor’s house.

I am touched so deeply by the sincerity and willingness of the people who recently filled this little cottage living room to question their thoughts.

Some were brand new to The Work. They had never written out a Judge Your Neighbor worksheet before.

Some were School for The Work graduates who have been questioning their thoughts for years.

It doesn’t matter really.

There is always a curiosity when a group gathers for a retreat–whether a 4-hour retreat like today, or a 4-day retreat–a joyful excitement (and perhaps surge of nerves).

As people came in, it was very quiet. A few simple greetings, several people unfamiliar with this place needing to ask where the bathroom is, where the tea mugs are. Others have been here before.

What will happen this afternoon?

What will be discovered?

What is possible here, as I wonder about my thinking, my ideas, my concepts, my beliefs, my suffering?

What could shift, as I consider just one troubling relationship, and clarify some of my thoughts about it?

The very first step, where we actually write down our stressful beliefs, can sometimes be so awkward….

….but also the biggest relief in the world.

We can cuss, rage, vent, wail….on paper. We give words to our feelings of loss, abandonment, fear, grief.

After everyone was here and settled in, I asked the Judge-Your-Neighbor questions slowly (with some description of exploring how to sit with and answer these questions). Everyone got a clip board and a pen—which are all the supplies you need besides your mind, to do The Work.

I’m always so amazed, although I shouldn’t be–because I did it myself despite my secrecy and huge urge to protect myself–at how willing people are to write their honest answers down to the JYN questions.

Who angers, confuses or disappoints you, and WHY?

A child can answer the question “who bugs you, and WHY?” probably more easily than an adult.

Sometimes when people start The Work, they’ll say they anger, confuse or disappoint themselves…but yesterday I already said at the very beginning of our mini-retreat not to write about themselves.

Who were you with, when you felt bad about yourself?

Turn your attention outward. See what those other people are doing, saying, feeling, thinking….that you find disturbing.

I love the quiet of the room when people are writing and their pens are tap-tapping on paper. They’re focused. They’re exposing ideas they think they should not have in the first place.

They’re so beautiful, writing away with passion and gusto.

And then, to hear someone jump in and volunteer to be the first to “go”–the first person ready to “do” The Work who has never been to this group before. I am so inspired.

Wow, how brave she is.

At least, this is my thought as a fairly extreme introvert.

How courageous to speak immediately, to read one’s entire worksheet, to put these thoughts into the room for all the ears to hear.

The thoughts that hurt so much were shared during our afternoon together: she left me, he lacks insight, they are bored with me, he raised his voice at me, she should work with me on a compromise, I want them to stop, his outbursts are getting worse, I want hope that something will change.

The Work, as you know so well, is four questions and finding turnarounds to these concepts that incite riots of feeling within.

I hear Katie’s voice saying “trust the work”.

This is about each one of us answering all the questions to the best of our abilities, in this present moment, with no expectations of the outcome.

In our mini-retreat, after sitting with two different participant’s worksheets, everyone got to pull one thought from their Judge Your Neighbor worksheet from #4: the prompt which says “In order to be happy, I need x to ______.”

We heard each person’s #4. I need him to say _____, I need her to act _____, I need them to be ______.

Everyone got to sit in this very active meditation of answering the four questions, out loud, about this need they had written down.

You can do it right now.

What is one thing you are sure would make you happy, if you got it–and you don’t have it now? Picture it coming from the outside world. A person saying “x”, a person giving you “y”, a person being like “z”. Something else coming to you, like money, or that item.

Is it true you need that in order to be happy?

Give your honest answer.

Can you be absolutely sure? Is it absolutely positively true you need that in order to be happy? Are you sure happiness is NOT possible unless it happens, in the difficult situation you’re aware of (even if it was a long time ago)?

How do you react when you think you need it, and it’s not showing up?

Oh lord. Disappointed. Waiting. Wishing. Worrying.

Who would you be without this troubling thought that you need “x” in order to be happy (seeing the mental video of what you think you need)?

I’d see what was happening right here, more honestly.

I’d notice I’m sitting in a family of people, some of whom I don’t know their life details, and yet they feel like fellow travelers on an exquisite journey.

I somehow wound up here, in a half-day retreat with other people wondering about the validity of their thinking, and willing to question it. People willing and interested in exploring.

I’d see how happiness is possible, or even here right now, whether I get “x” or not.

I love turning my thoughts around.

It never means I have to quit believing my original thought….I might notice I still worry it’s true, but I’m giving some substance and energy to this other opposite thought.

Everyone got to turn around their need in our group yesterday: I need ME to do that thing, say that thing, be that way WITH MYSELF. Especially in the presence of that other person.

Wow.

That’s true.

It’s the only thing I can really do anything about: myself.

And we looked at these needs closely. Everyone had the opportunity to contemplate and discover and find genuine ways they might live their turnarounds with themselves.

For the one who believed she needed hope for change, she saw how she could give herself “hope” or a spark of encouragement. For the one who believed someone lacks insight, she could see how she lacked insight, and then notice how very insightful she is, and feel the power of trust.

For the one who thought they were bored with her, she found how she was bored with herself, so she could find how she might feel the entertainment of what’s inside, and relax in other peoples’ presence.

If we lived a true turnaround to what we find when we do The Work….what might it look like?

Most importantly, what would it FEEL like?

You don’t even have to know what you’d do.

These words are all what people came up with as their anchor words for living their turnarounds this month, their awareness of something simple, condensed into one word, something unforgettable: Trust, Self-Compassion, Generosity, Allow, Relax, Worthiness, Creativity, Love.

What I noticed was each one of these inquirers was the most adorable, perfect example of their turnaround.

“Peace doesn’t require two people; it requires only one. It has to be you. The problem begins and ends there.” ~ Byron Katie

You can be an example of a quality you thought you needed from outside yourself, too. You could imagine noticing how you have this quality already, or the capacity to feel it.

Living our turnarounds is so much fun.

And who knows….it may change the world.

Much love,

Grace

P.S. Spring Cleaning Retreat has 3 spots open May 16-20 in Seattle. Come find your turnarounds with us.

P.P.S. Next Living Turnarounds Half-Day is April 22nd.

March 15, 2018

I’m so ugly by comparison. A good lie to take through inquiry.

I’d love to get to know you better by reading your honest responses (anonymous) to a few powerful survey questions about your fears and dreams. Please share with me here so I may of the highest service and understanding. In deep gratitude: Answer Questions Here.

Let’s do The Work again on Facebook Live today Friday 3/16 at NOON Pacific Time. I love those who send me a question beforehand, and today, our topic and stressful belief will be one that feel basic, harsh, but very persistent within the human experience:

I’m ugly.

Have you ever had this thought?

Oh so painful.

And on top of having the thought itself hurt, we also think “I shouldn’t be so hard on myself” or “I shouldn’t care about what I look like” or “I shouldn’t even have this thought in the first place!”

(What’s wrong with me!?)

How you get to a facebook live video, in case you don’t know, is you simply go to the usual Facebook page, and scroll down inside the posts section. I’ll be there on video at NOON Pacific time/3 pm Eastern time/9 pm Europe.

If you miss the live moment, you’ll see the recorded video later right there on the same Work With Grace facebook page.

Mistakes, goof-ups (inevitable) and surprises all etched in time on recording. That’s the fun (or horror) of facebook LIVE: it’s LIVE. No script, no edits, no cuts.

Who would we be without our stories of ugliness, needing to fix ourselves, or even fix our thinking (or change the video–LOL)?

Who would we be without the story of comparison, and measuring ourselves up against the other people we encounter in the world?

And as a special bow to Ireland and the Celtic traditions (part of my ancestry) I recently was touched by the beautiful way I heard John O’Donohue and Thomas Merton, two Christian mystics, offer their wisdom to this process of comparing ourselves and coming up short (or better than)….

….enjoy this week’s Peace Talk right here.

Much love,

Grace

March 14, 2018

I can’t take it anymore with this body (my Stephen Hawking turnaround)

“I can’t take it anymore!”

I said this internally in my own head, not out loud, as I looked at the ceiling over my bed, unable to even turn over because of pain.

I had torn my right hamstring right off my sits bone by doing a gymnastics move I hadn’t done in 25 years. I wanted to reverse time, go back and fix it. I wanted it to not have happened at all.

Now after surgery I had a full leg brace to make sure I didn’t move, and my right leg was sort of withered looking.

I had a huge scar from left to right the full width of my upper right thigh in the back under my butt cheek where they drilled the hamstring back into the bone and held it fast with two titanium pins.

This was the ninth day of lying on my back in bed. Every time I got up to go to the bathroom, it hurt horribly as I dragged myself there. I couldn’t put any weight on the right leg. I couldn’t sit on the seat (I had a huge thick cushion put on the toilet seat and still couldn’t).

At that moment of looking at the ceiling….again….

….I tried to turn over onto my stomach.

It hurt so much, but I was determined. I could get out of the bed, so surely I could turn over and lie on my stomach for once?

Ouch.

I tried and kept trying, and then finally flopped over like a block of wood getting turned over by a tiny ant. Or a fish lurching over on a boat deck.

Then on my stomach, I stared at the place the floor and the wall met. I had a great view of the carpet.

OK, here I am on my stomach at last. Now what.

I stared at the floor for about 30 minutes, and lay there feeling the relief of being off my back, and on to my stomach, and then eventually realized I needed to turn over on my back again if I wanted to anything besides stare at the wall.

Slow pushing, careful turning. Flop.

And then the thoughts broke through.

I can’t take this anymore. I’m trapped. I’ll never be the same. This is horrible. My life is over.

I did The Work.

I got to trade facilitation with a beautiful certified facilitator, so I could stay close to this process without jumping out and into Doomsville.

Is it true, you can’t take it anymore?

Yes. Cry.

Are you absolutely sure? Can you know it’s not possible for you to “take this” anymore?

(Note the victim role, I am a very small potato and the world and reality are massively huge and all-powerful and I’ve lost).

No, it’s not true.

How do you react when you think you can’t take it anymore, and something very tough is happening?

Pictures of dying, declining, failing, never running again, never biking again, never getting up again. I see nothing good here. My sense of being this small ant in the universe is dreadful, sad, furious, self-piteous.

So who would I be without this story of oppression of the body, this injury being “bad”….and the thought that I can’t take it anymore?

Oh my.

I paused when doing this work for a long time to answer this question…imagining being unable to think this thought that I can’t take it.

I noticed how much reading I was doing (hands straight up overhead with long arms holding the book directly over my face), watching interesting videos, still teaching telecourses and working with clients. Still running the Year of Inquiry.

I noticed I didn’t think about my injury or even remember I was in bed when doing any of these things.

Without the thought….

….I’d be free, relaxed, navigating the next thing, the next thing. Watching life unfold around me, without the thought. Watching how things change, and how I’m not in charge.

I’d be aware of how truly having this thought was what was stressful, nothing else really.

Turning the thought around: I CAN take this anymore. I can’t take my THOUGHTS about this anymore.

This suddenly made me smile.

I began to wonder about this idea of “taking it”. Gross. It sounded so passive and violent. And yet, to consider the turnaround that I could take it, then it could mean something different–like I was capable of taking, and even transforming it.

Or, it wasn’t even “me” that would be transforming “it”, but instead something was taking this and working with it.

Plus I notice taking and giving are a paired type of energy, so there was something giving, and something taking, and energies flowing. I’m watching it all. I’m participating.

And then, as I did this work, I saw Stephen Hawking in my head.

He can’t turn over, and I don’t see him complaining.

In fact, he’s doing some kind of amazing life journey living an incredibly unexpected life with ALS and offering his unique genius in the world in the form of physics and philosophy and explaining it all to humanity.

I immediately found videos with his electronic mechanical voice (since he couldn’t even talk) and listened, mesmerized and overjoyed by his explanations of the universe and space.

He could take it. He could carry on. He could have a brilliant life full of passion without moving much at all.

“The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance; it is the illusion of knowledge.” ~ Stephen Hawking

My own illusion of failure, pain, decline, the need for a “working” body, death, injury was a grand illusion.

YAHOO!

I can’t take it–not really. That could be a fun turnaround of joyful laughter, not depressing fear and self-pity. It’s not possible to “take” it. It was only my invention in that moment of suffering.

It wasn’t even true.

Thank you Dr. Hawking for your contribution to the world and to my turnaround. You were an inspiration to someone far away who you never met in real life.

By questioning my thoughts, I wound up with appreciation for my injured body.

Because of that incident, I quit my part time job completely to go full time with facilitating The Work, I learned how to do yoga instead of gymnastics, I learned more about astrophysics from someone who didn’t need to have a “working” body in order to be happy.

And that person was me.

Much love,

Grace

March 12, 2018

Come to Breitenbush to inquire this early summer (+ interview with me and Todd)

Several years ago, I had the delightful privilege to meet Todd Smith, a Certified Facilitator of The Work. His story is moving and profound for how The Work transformed his thoughts about partnership, the death of his mother in a plane crash, and his relationship with career and money.

To watch my interview with Todd, click here.

I was so excited about the interview, by the way, I spoke 100 miles an hour without any introduction at the beginning, plus I have no idea what the caption is doing at the bottom of my screen that’s half cut off. But I bet you’ll love hearing about The Work and Todd’s experience of it.

Super inspiring.

I’m so happy he’ll be joining me at Breitenbush this year, for the 8th annual immersion in The Work for four days June 13-17. Call Breitenbush at 503-854-3320 for all the information and to register. (You can also read about it on my website here).

And speaking of inspiration….I have a little secret to confess.

People like Todd who have transformative internal journeys about the hardest situations in life like conflict, anxiety, scarcity and death….

….are my heros.

Even though I do The Work and have felt change I never thought possible for this anxious mind, I am a huge secret admirer of everyone who is willing to question, even just one of their thoughts, with sincerity.

I had such low trust in myself and my ability to relax, I could barely even “do” The Work after I read Loving What Is. It took me diving in to attending the School for The Work to “get” the true value of it.

The learning I receive continues to this day.

I have the incredible joy of facilitating people and witnessing being with people who see their problems in a new way.

They’re been worried, upset, angry, or sad and don’t know what to do. Sometimes for years and years.

And *ping*!

They catch some amazing insight as they answer the four questions.

I honestly feel when people show up to do The Work and I happen to be facilitating, I’m the luckiest person ever.

Because there are many difficult experiences. There are dreadful experiences. Tough things happen in life to humanity.

It’s really quite miraculous that people can identify these painful experiences, write about them on paper, and take them through inquiry….

….and come out more aware, freer, more peaceful.

“I discovered that when I believed my thoughts, I suffered, but that when I didn’t believe them, I didn’t suffer, and that this is true for every human being. Freedom is as simple as that. I found that suffering is optional. I found a joy within me that has never disappeared, not for a single moment. That joy is in everyone, always.” ~ Byron Katie

The truth is, this work would not be interesting, magnetic or compelling if we were following someone else’s ideas or instructions.

It’s not about having any guru, and that includes Byron Katie (and I’m sure she’d agree).

It’s about answering the questions in the most deep, contemplative, honest way you can. No wrong way. No right way. Only your own genuine answers.

Amazingly, these answers bring light-bulbs, ah-ha’s, and new ideas. It doesn’t have to be big and like a gigantic firework going off.

Only a little shift can make a huge difference. The course is changed. There’s a new path.

Who would you be without your thought about that tough thing that happened?

Just a wee bit accepting. Or just a lot mind-altered.

Both are better than the suffering that was happening without The Work.

Much love,

Grace

P.S. it looks like the half-day mini retreat this Sunday is full. The next one is April 22nd or email to get on the wait list.

March 10, 2018

How to find out what you’re really hungry for–being an investigator for your own freedom

We’ve all heard the question: What are you really hungry for?

I’m not talking about food of any kind.

This is what feels hungry within, perhaps at the deepest soulful level.

For me, eating seemed to handle strong emotions of any kind.

Sad? Let’s eat. Depressed? Let’s eat. Hopeless? Let’s eat. Rage? Let’s eat. Thrilling excitement? Let’s eat.

My eating was war-like because my thinking was war-like and oppositional and fearful, and so were my feelings.

Eating was grounding, a way to push the pause button. You have to slow down to chew and swallow, and enter a world of doing something for apparently “no reason”.

When I was eating, I wasn’t doing something “good” or getting tasks done from my endless to-do list, or saving the world, or writing a book, or even being good.

I was simply focusing and taking in for myself alone, and processing my troubled thoughts in a way (although, not permanently).

So instead of feeling so upset and ashamed at how rotten and selfish I was, and entering the self-criticism mode about me….

….I connected with others so that I could talk, share, express, and say what I was troubled about. And oh boy was I troubled.

I had deeply stressful thoughts about careers, jobs, bosses, work, money, survival, pain, fear of hurt, family, relationships, mother, father, sisters, competition, being left out, feeling muted.

What brought me the greatest freedom, was beginning to look at each of these experiences of suffering in my past.

Eating peace is born from thinking peace.

The most simple, lazer-sharp way to do it that I’ve found is with The Work of Byron Katie.

Find one troubling experience, and begin today. It can feel frightening, but it’s better than pushing it down with food, I can guarantee it.

P.S. Four day Mental Spring Cleaning Retreat. We’ll be clearly identifying what’s felt so painful in our experience, and with the power of The Work of Byron Katie and our slowing down, we’ll discover answers that were waiting inside us the whole time. For more information visit HERE.

March 9, 2018

The Great Surprise of Acceptance I Never Expected.

First of all, the latest Peace Talk Podcast 138: When the doctor said it’s cancer! (Yikes!)

People are pretty incredible at pretending they feel things they don’t really feel.

Remember the famous movie scene in When Harry Met Sally with Meg Ryan’s in Katz’ restaurant with Billy Crystal? (I’ll have what she’s having!)

And then I heard recently in the movie I, Tonya about a tragic moment when Tonya Harding skates out on the ice with a huge big fake smile, despite having terrible bruises under her make-up and emotional heart-break only moments before.

It’s astonishing how we can look like something on the outside that’s not matching at all on the inside.

It’s acting.

And oh my, I used to act a lot.

When I was a child, I covered up feeling betrayed or hurt with a smile. I’d hold in tears by holding my breath. I smiled when I was actually terrified or upset. I was shy and avoided people I really liked a lot and admired.

The thing I found amazing about The Work, and also a bit awkward (OK very very awkward at first) was the first step: tell the truth about how you really feel.

The whole truth.

No matter how petty, childish, ridiculous, mean, vicious or nasty you sound. And no matter if part of you thinks it is NOT true.

Tell it on paper, so it doesn’t sneak away and get reworded or hidden or subverted all over again.

Now, this is an incredible step, to admit and be willing to write down all your aggressive, judgmental, suspicious, frightened, childish thoughts about other people, situations, or things that bother you.

I’ve had people tell me to keep their worksheets in a brown file folder at my house, or if they’re long distance that they’re shredding their worksheet the minute they’re done with it.

But what about in a group?

Where other people are listening, hearing, contemplating YOUR mean awful desperate thoughts?

Why would I want other people, and maybe even strangers, to hear my most ugly thoughts? That’s taking it too far. I just can’t.

Long ago on my first adventures into healing my extremely anxious mind, I was led to a therapist who believed in group therapy. She believed it was so valuable, she encouraged every single person who came to work with her to eventually move into one of her groups.

In fact, if you wanted to keep to individual sessions only, she’d kick you out–er, I mean refer you on to some other therapist–who was willing to listen to you repeat yourself, possibly for years.

Even though I trusted her, I was pretty nervous about the group therapy.

I thought “I’ll never do that.”

But after six months of solo work, she said it was time.

I sat in near total silence from Day One of entering that group. I could barely whisper my name to the other members (there were 9). I looked down at the rug, or stared at whoever was talking politely.

I was deeply curious about what was going on, but absolutely shaking in my bones to reveal the true me. It felt paralyzing.

One day, about six months into me being in the group, the lead therapist (the one I had seen independently for awhile first) said she had something important to say before we began.

She turned to me.

Gulp.

“Grace, you have been completely silent for six months here. Do you realize, you are remaining in complete control by doing this? We want to get to know you, to feel you as a part of this group family.”

I began to cry. (Although not too hard, mind you).

I’m not sure if it was out of fear, or relief.

I knew that although I was terrified to share, I also knew I wanted to desperately, and to feel the freedom of being all of myself, the childish and the wise.

I started talking from that day forward, and participating honestly. Slowly, this became easier and easier over time. It was one of the most life-changing and important things I ever did for my own freedom.

While I was in that group, I had my last eating binge, I became close to my boyfriend in a more genuine way (and married him), I began writing short stories for other people to read–not just me, and I held a normal full time job I actually kind of liked.

I began to feel…..normal. Like a regular human being instead of a severely anxious, depressed, addicted wreck.

Sharing in a group with true honesty has remained powerful for me to this day.

I love the dynamics of a group and I have a deep, abiding compassion for those who wish to keep things to themselves.

I know they do it for good reasons.

I also know the power of self-inquiry that can help us begin to speak when we’re stuck in silence.

What I find every time in a group environment with other people, is we’re all quite unique, but we’re also incredibly alike.

We’re all thinking, believing, feeling humans. We all have childish aspects and very wise adult aspects and everything in between. We’re all doing it our own way, on our own path….and yet somehow, together.

“There are no new thoughts.” ~ Byron Katie

If I had not shown up at that group so long ago, and been poked to be honest, I might be living a life of simple survival, getting through each day, feeling somewhat alone and never really excited or passionate. Maybe I wouldn’t be binge-eating or freaking out anxiously anymore, but I might be resigned, or numb. Who knows.

I am forever grateful I myself responded to something within that said “call that therapist” and that I stuck with it despite having extremely frightened judgments about people getting together and being emotional (ew).

I am forever grateful the universe was friendly, and I got pushed along by the current of truth-telling, and willingness to be authentic and real.

Honesty and revealing the suffering allows the light to shine in.

If you’ve been considering sitting with others to sink into your own work, in a very safe non-invasive, nothing-is-truly-required container….then come gather with me and other inquirers to look at this goofy and difficult and sad and humorous mind that views the world the way it does.

You may discover an acceptance, through the eyes of others, you never found possible for yourself.

Because that’s what happened for me so long ago in that little group.

I shared with them out loud that I sometimes felt suicidal, that I isolated, that I ate the equivalent of five meals instead of one.

I looked up at them, thinking I’d see disgust on their faces.

I saw only acceptance. Compassion. Tenderness. Maybe some confusion. I was not banished or rejected.

No one kicked me out of the group for being too much of a mess.

It changed my life.

It showed me what I could do for myself: accept my thoughts, like little children, waiting for someone to listen….and that someone was me.

“I had such a hunger to burn up whatever thoughts arose in my mind that whenever a physical reaction came through me, I let it come….I would just stand or drop onto the sidewalk and let the emotion have its way. People were always kind. They would stop and say things like ‘Do you need help?’ ‘Would you like a tissue?’ ‘Is there someone I can call?’ ‘Can I take you somewhere?’ That’s how I met the world. It was tender. It was sensitive. These people were all pieces of me.” ~ Byron Katie in A Mind At Home With Itself.

If you’re like me and you notice you could use a little help in coming out of your shell or cave, or you’re not sure where your “yes” voice is that knows we’re in a great big co-creation experiment (oh joy)….

….then you may be ready for retreat.

Find one in your neighborhood or city, even a few hours drive away will work to gather and connect with others. Maybe there’s a meetup in The Work in your area, or someone who facilitates retreats.

If you’re in the northwest or want to head in this direction, I’d welcome you with open arms.

Three options I have coming soon:

a) Half-day retreat in Seattle March 18th (3 more spots). Only 4 hours 2-6 pm. You’ll walk through this powerful inquiry process with one important issue or troubling situation. You don’t have to share out loud–although you may find joy if you do. Ten people maximum in my Goldilocks Cottage living room.

b) Spring retreat is in Seattle May 16-20 and has room for 4 more. You can commute, and there’s a cute AirBnb or two nearby I can point you to. We have a grand, gorgeous retreat house with the most luscious grounds with little meditation huts, a hot tub, and green views everywhere. Movement, poetry, inspiring stories of inquiry, silent walk, silent movement field trip, a movie night can all result in inner awareness and you finding your own solutions to stuck-ness.

c) And then there’s Breitenbush Hotsprings in Oregon June 13-17 with the lovely Todd Smith. Although 3 months away, the early bird fee is NOW and it’s strongly encouraged to reserve your lodging soon, as cabins, dorms, rooms in the lodge, and even campsite spaces all get taken up so quickly in this gorgeous season where the sun is out so long in the northwest and people from all over the world come to Breitenbush. People got turned away last year beginning in May–it was a little surprising. If you’re serious about coming to Breitenbush, it’s better to reserve now (only a deposit is due upon registration)–call Breitenbush 503-854-3320.

Much love,

Grace

P.S. If you’ve emailed me about any of these events, and I haven’t gotten back to you–it may be email tech problems. Write to gracewithwork@gmail.com my alternate email.

P.P.S. Much love to you on your journey home to yourself.