Category: Pain, Sickness and Death

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Get Your Body Problem Solved

It was the evening of the day after Thanksgiving. The night was very dark and chilly. It had been a quiet day full of reading, (some clients for me), and watching an old movie we all wanted to see because it won Best Picture in 1970.

Inside our little cottage it was very toasty, bright and cozy. 

My son then noticed he didn’t feel that good. He went to bed. In the morning, he threw up.

An hour later, he threw up again. And a little later, again.

Then my daughter threw up. 

Going into “mom” mode, I’m getting them medicine, feeling their foreheads for their temperature, going out to buy them anything they’ll drink to get rehydrated. A day of attending to the sick, but doing other things as well.

We’re all analyzing what they ate, for food poisoning analysis.

Then, my husband threw up. He never gets sick, not like this. 

I have the thought enter my mind “uh oh.” 

Then right away, “Wow, I haven’t gotten it! It’s going to pass me by, I’m going to avoid it, maybe I’ll never feel a thing!”

A day later, I myself am throwing up, several times during the night. Followed by the fever and chills for 24 hours that everyone else also has. 

A little experience of illness will get any mind going, if it’s not questioned, with thoughts of alarm.

In my mind, I’m thinking about the great plague of Europe and how it rampaged through everyone and killed the majority of the population.

The body is vulnerable, there is no one who is protected against illness, I can be destroyed.

Nooooooo!!!!!

(And by the way….I also thought….isn’t the whole torn off hamstring enough? Apparently not). 

Fortunately for me, one of the YOI groups started its new topic this month: The Work on The Body.

I guide everyone through filling out the Judge Your Body worksheet right there on the phone together, so we take the time (so easy to dismiss) to sit and consider what our most stressful, painful, agonizing beliefs are about this body.

People found that as they allowed their judgments to come to the surface, they sometimes felt embarrassed or nervous about saying them out loud. Sometimes I have felt superficial when I identify my stressful beliefs on my body, like I shouldn’t care this much about the body being healthy, or looking “attractive” or being in top condition.

Everyone gets sick, stop complaining!

But rejecting these thoughts or shoving them away and trying to think positively doesn’t really work. Not when I’ve been sad, or terrified, anxious or alarmed. 

So…..how wonderful to have The Work for identifying deeper emotional pain around living in this body.

“I shouldn’t get sick”.

Is it true?

Yes, how could that not be true? What purpose would getting sick offer? How could there be ANYTHING useful, good, or advantageous about getting sick?

Who set this universe up anyway?!!! I need to have a word!!!

(Notice how the mind goes from not liking the situation to finding out whose fault it is in less than 2 seconds).

Can I absolutely know that its true that I shouldn’t get sick? That no one should ever, ever get sick?

Well….since sickness has existed for as long as humans have existed, as far as I now, then it can not be true that sickness SHOULDN’T exist. Because it does. 

But maybe I don’t know something about all this. Maybe my version of health or sickness is not quite….accurate, shall we say?

How do I react when I believe that I shouldn’t get sick, that my family shouldn’t, or that anyone I know shouldn’t?

When they get sick….I’m against it. 

I’m sad, discouraged, angry, depressed, frightened. I think about the plague.

But who would I be without the thought that I shouldn’t get sick? 

When our YOI group got to answering this question together on the phone, they almost didn’t know how to even imagine what they’d be like, without the thought that this body appeared to be a problem.

Yet if you take only a moment, without the thought that there is a problem….

….isn’t it lighter? Even quite astonishing?

The fear dissolves, the focus on this body softens. The sense of it being a part of a greater force of life, nature, or Whatever, is clear. 

“The mind is only at war with itself. It’s as though on one side you have the terrified mind, the child, the I-know mind. “I’m so frightened, I’m so frightened! I have cancer, it’s so terrible, I know, I know, I know. I’m sick, I’m going to die.” And then over here, on the other side, we have the mind that is still and quiet and wise. This mind does not move. It rests in its own wisdom. When you put the questions in between them, it’s like a bridge for this one to travel over.” ~ Byron Katie

I turn the thought around to the opposite “I should get sick”.

This doesn’t mean I should believe that getting sick is the best and most wonderful thing that ever happened….but perhaps I am mistaken about its horrors. 

For myself, I notice that in these past few days, examples of it being true that I should get sick (besides the obvious example that I WAS sick) was that I noticed how OK everything was anyway. 

Our family kept talking about what we might have eaten, or how the illness traveled invisibly, or what was in our throw up, or how fascinating that the body does this weird thing. 

Everyone was taking care of one another, everyone changed gears and stayed home. 

I cancelled appointments and rescheduled them. I slept. I thought about the body and it’s vulnerability and felt a release, an acceptance, a surrender. No way out.

I may discover more. But I feel sort of….excited. Like it’s no big deal. 

There is a mind here, present at all times, resting in its own wisdom. I have it, you have it….we all do.

“The Unknown is more vast, more open, more peaceful, and more freeing than you ever imagined it would be. If you don’t experience it that way, it means you’re not resting there; you’re still trying to know. That will cause you to suffer because you’re choosing security over Freedom. When you rest deeply in the Unknown without trying to escape, your experience becomes very vast. As the experience of the Unknown deepens, your boundaries begin to dissolve. You realize, not just intellectually but on a deep level, that you have no idea who or what you are.” Adyashanti

Who would you be without your story that your body is vulnerable, and this is a dangerous situation?

What if its not even YOUR body? 

Love, Grace

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Ready For Anything

Yesterday I was walking, rather slowly, in much narrower strides than I usually take, up a long incline, heading back to my parked car.

I felt the now familiar yanking kind of burning dull ache in my right sits bone. One of the doctor’s that I’ve visited recently voice popped in my head “….since it’s hanging on by maybe less than 20%…possible it could pop off…careful until surgery…”

I suddenly pictured 1/5th the amount of attached tendon pulled really tight, like an over-stretched rubber band about to “pop”.  

Oh. What was that? 

I think it’s popping off right now. Could it be?

I kept walking. I noticed the view below of the blustery lake, the space needle off to my left (Seattle icon), wind blowing my hair into my eyes.

Having an injury, with chronic “pain” (which by the way seems to come and go) really reminds me that I have a body.

This flesh and bone thing that I appear to inhabit. Something is on low-grade alarm, radiating from the leg. 

But right now, I also happen to be facilitating the Pain, Sickness and Death teleclass, and we’re looking, as I’ve looked a bunch of times before, at what is believed about HURT and SUFFERING and PAIN.

It hurts. I am in pain. She hurts. He hurts. This is terrible. Having a body is vulnerable. Having a body is dangerous. I’m in control of this body. I HAVE a body.

Are these things true?

Oh brother, YES. Would you stop asking that for once? This is DEFINITELY true. 

Without a body, I wouldn’t be anything. I wouldn’t be here. And this thing, called a body, hurts sometimes. It can get hurt (I have evidence)!

It appears that other people get hurt! 

But I don’t actually know if this is terrible, and I don’t know if this body needs to stay NOT hurting, and I don’t know if it’s really dangerous and vulnerable to have this body. At all. 

OK OK! I don’t know if it’s even true that this is MY body. I’m not sure who or what invented it, and it appears I had nothing to do with it.

How do I react when I believe the thought that this sensation is called “pain” and that it means something terrible is happening, already happened, or is about to happen in the future?

I have images form in my head, flashing like a speedy movie of moving flash cards, of surgeries and knives and cut off limbs and death and other things that frighten me. 

I feel sick to my stomach, nervous, worried. I treat myself like I’m a victim, something happened TO me. I got unlucky. Other people are walking around freely with connected hamstrings. 

Look, there goes a person now, running by. She isn’t having stabbing pains in her pelvic bone! That’s the way it’s supposed to be! 

I chuckle. 

Who would I be without the thought that this sensation “hurts” or that it’s very bad news, or that I am getting surgery, or that this body is mine, or that something is wrong with this right leg. 

Strangely light. Like giggling. Goosebumps. 

Without the thought that this is a bad situation, I’m here, now. Tuned in. Alive. I feel a pulsing awareness of everything, sensing it all with this thing called a body. 

No regrets, no fear in this moment. 

Now here’s the bizarre thing: without the thought that this is terrible, wrong, that pain is bad, or that this is my body and it is dangerous to have one….

….I’m almost looking forward to having this surgery. 

Oh wow…that’s the ultimate turnaround. I am willing to have this hurt, to go through this, to feel this body…..I look forward to having this hurt, to go through this, to feel this body.

Weird, right? WOW! COOL!

“The Master gives himself up to whatever the moment brings. He knows that he is going to die, and he has nothing left to hold on to: no illusions in his mind, no resistances in his body. He doesn’t think about his actions; they flow from the core of his being. He holds nothing back from life; therefore he is ready for death, as a man is ready for sleep after a good day’s work.” ~ Tao Te Ching #50 

With Love, Grace

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You Can Handle Death

It was a light spring day with blossoms bursting everywhere in the city parks. I had been trading phone messages with a woman who was interested in finding out more about The Work.
She was in a distant time zone.
Today, I was walking through the university arboretum with fancy-named trees and gorgeous smells and rich green grass when her number appeared on my cell phone. Even though I didn’t recognize it, I thought “that number is really familiar, I need to pick it up”.
Even though she had sounded so light in our brief exchanges so far, without ever talking LIVE….it turned out she had cancer, and not necessarily a “good” prognosis.
I had worked with many people with cancer diagnoses before…but not anyone who may only have a few months to live.
I felt very moved for a moment.
I recognized in thirty seconds my own heart feeling full, and thoughts of something that looked at this whole human condition of life and death, noticing the beauty and the destruction all at once.
Blossoms everywhere, this woman apparently near her end-of-life moment.
That evening, after setting up a session with her on skype, I remembered my first hospice patient visit at my previous job.
At that time, I had received all my training in questioning patients about sensitive topics, I had finished my graduate degree in Applied Behavioral Science.
I had a laptop, I had arrived at the patient’s home, and I was ready for the task I was supposed to complete….a very extensive Quality of Life interview. This was “academic” work.
But the two requirements for people who enrolled in this research were 1) they had to be with it mentally, so they could answer questions, and 2) they had to be in hospice.
The patient I was visiting this very first time lived in a condo. I parked in the Visitors space. I knocked on her door with a little trepidation.
The woman I met was the same age as I was.

Feelings welled up inside my stomach and my throat, but I kept them hidden. I didn’t want to start crying!

This woman who was a total stranger to me answered many questions about her pain, how she felt…many personal questions about her life.

She was so brave.

When I left, I gave her a little hug, and then went to my car. In the driver’s seat, sitting in the big parking lot, I wept.

I thought “I’m not sure I can handle this job”.

But the next day, I drove to someone else’s home to interview THEM on their quality of life.

Some people had cancer, some had heart disease, some had ALS.

By the third patient, I relaxed. I didn’t have the simple version of inquiry we all know as The Work in my life yet, but I had other self-inquiry after quite a few years of really beginning to investigate the meaning of This.

And here was my next phase. Meeting people who knew they were on their way out, with limited time….people of all ages.

It was the gift of a lifetime. I started thinking I can’t believe I have such an amazing job, to be able to realize that everyone was the same as me, not different.

That day when the woman with only a little time left contacted me, I might have had thoughts like “this will be hard” or “this is sad” or “she is frightened (and I can’t help her)” but while they tried to arise….I knew they weren’t true.

Who would you be without the thought that if you only have two months left to live, it’s *terrible*?

Without the thought that this is an example of great suffering in a harsh world?

That she can’t handle….or I can’t handle…the body’s decline and death?

Who would I be without the thought that I couldn’t help her?

I’d be there. I’d do The Work with her.

Funny, her thoughts were no different than any of mine, or any I have heard before. “I’m going to die” and “I shouldn’t die” and “this is shameful” and “I can’t stand this” and “people feel sorry for me (and I hate that).”

I turn my own thoughts around, the ones trying to get some energy or some volume, the ones I used to think all the time before meeting so many people over the years who were in hospice…

….I can handle this. Because I’m the one here, I’m the one.

I can handle the body’s decline and death, because everyone handles it.

I can help her, and I don’t have to even do anything except show up (and another turnaround, I can’t help her.…and that’s the way of it, not really a problem).

“When you’re not thinking about death, you fully accept it. You’re not worrying about it at all. Think of your foot. Did you have a foot before you thought of it? Where was it? When there’s no thought, there’s no foot. When there’s no thought of death, there’s no death.” ~ Byron Katie

I can be here, with anyone, in any situation. So can you. You don’t need to know how to do it.

Love, Grace

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Death Seems Unfriendly

The other day I got an email from someone who recently had an enormous loss, the death of her beloved sister.

She had never heard of The Work and someone suggested she explore it.

We wrote back and forth, and she had wonderful questions and I could almost hear her mind cranking away at the ideas we discussed: the power to be able to ask if something really is true, especially when it seems like it IS absolutely true….the question of whether or not it is a friendly universe when it appears it is not.

Sometimes people have a puzzled response around questioning the mind….like…what are you talking about?!

It reminded me of how unusual it is, in many ways, for the mind to question itself. It feels like a thinking machine. It’s just busy, occupied with thoughts, which it mostly assumes to be true.

And out of these thoughts, feelings are born.

The space between thought and feeling is so so fast sometimes, almost impossible to catch. It seems like we just feel bad…and it’s either OBVIOUS why we feel bad, or MYSTERIOUS why we feel bad.

For this woman who was struggling, it felt obvious why she felt bad. The death of someone close.

That kind of loss when things appear to be entirely done, finished, over: death, or a major break-up, or a house burning down….these kinds of sudden losses can raise huge responses inside us.

Why even do The Work? 

The person is gone…me doing The Work won’t bring them back!

I remembered myself and how I’ve felt when I had that thought…how I still react sometimes with loss or change that appears sudden, quick and unexpected:

  • that person is gone
  • I will never get over this
  • life by myself, without that person, is horrible/sad/depressing
  • other people are happy, but not me
  • the universe is not friendly
  • God/Source/Reality has pulled the rug out from under me

Pulled The Rug Out.

What a great phrase to describe the shock. A person is standing on a carpet, and someone or something comes along, big and strong enough to grab the edge of the carpet and yank out that rug. Of course, the person standing on the rug topples over, they fall and land hard, they are confused, they are frightened, they feel hurt.

So let’s do The Work.

The rug has been pulled out, figuratively speaking….is it true?

Yes. I thought things were going differently, beautifully. I hate the way they went. I don’t like death and endings. The loss is tragic for me.

IT IS TRUE that my life will never be the same, and the universe is NOT friendly!!

You’re supposed to feel happy, like the universe is friendly, all the time…is THAT true? You’re supposed to feel different than you feel, really? 

Well…it seems like it would be better to NOT feel this way. But I’m not sure I’m supposed to feel differently than I feel.

The difficult part is when I believe that if things were different and this loss was not present, that would be much, much better….

….and then the jump to the conclusion, very speedy quick rapid, that un-doing the loss is the ONLY way I could feel better.

Since un-doing this loss is impossible…there is no way to feel better. Ever.

THAT is a huge, gigantic, deep, very painful trap.

Can I absolutely know I will never feel better, ever again?

Not at all. I’ve had death and loss and endings and it turns out….over time, it was better. It wasn’t up to me really.

Is it absolutely true that the rug was pulled out from under me? That the universe is not friendly? That the universe has mean, violent intentions?

No. I can’t absolutely know this. It seems true sometimes, especially about this whole Loss and Death stuff. But I’m not 100% sure. It seems sudden…but on the other hand, I’ve been aware that people die since I was a kid.

Death is not really NEW news.

How do you react when you believe this is too much for you to handle, and Reality is not kind?

Terrified, nervous, sleeping badly, comparing myself to other people who have it better than I do, angry, frustrated, mad. Staying home by myself. Wishing I could just die.

Not enjoying life, that’s for sure.

Deep breath.

So who would you be without the thought that the universe is mean, frightening, and unpredictable, and that you can’t handle this loss?

Without the thought that things will never be the same, that all is NOT well, or that the rug was pulled out from under you?

You may have to pause and think about it. What if you really didn’t believe this was 100% terrible, this situation you’ve experienced that hurts so very much, or that it is such a surprise?

What if there was some small part of you that could feel what it would be like, to not believe in a universe that plays mean tricks…like pulling the rug out from under you?

What if you are handling it? See if you are. “Are you breathing?” as Byron Katie says.

For me…I stop. I begin to wonder. I notice I AM breathing, my heart is beating and I am alive.

I didn’t actually DIE because of this event.

I look around the room I’m sitting in, and notice books, furniture, windows, ceiling…all intact. Everything quiet, waiting.

I notice a hum inside, some energy that is alive, here, in this body.

I turn the thoughts around to the opposite, to try them on, in this world of duality and opposites:

I am OK, I am handling this, the universe is safe, reality is not mean, there may be other ways I could feel better than only the one way I think would offer relief.

There may even be advantages, or something inviting me to see, after this experience. Perhaps something is calling me forward, inviting me to recognize something truer than I previously thought, to become aware.

Could there be anything, anything at all (even very small) that might be NOT terrible about this situation?

You don’t HAVE to see it as positive, friendly, lovely, sweet, kind and loving right away, especially when it really seems like it’s not.

This is simply finding the turnaround, a different way, a different FEELING about this whole thing.

  • that person is here, in my heart, forever
  • I will always get over this, everyone does eventually
  • life by myself, without that person, is wonderful/happy/enlightening
  • other people are happy, and so am I
  • the universe is friendly
  • God/Source/Reality has caught me and held me and supported me the whole time

“The whole notice of death is a beautiful and very potent spiritual awakening…The body will go, thoughts will go, imagination will go, self-image will go…death takes it all away, doesn’t it? And for the mind this is terrifying….But if you imagine; body gone, mind gone, feelings gone, memories gone, no past, no future, all falling away…what’s left? And what’s that LIKE? What’s the sense of that awareness? So death actually points towards awareness, towards consciousness. It takes everything away except what is essential. All form temporarily subsides. It reveals what you really, really, really are.” ~ Adyashanti

Is this really all terror and sadness, as I remember that person I love, who used to be here with me?

Or is this love, too?

Much love, Grace

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The Stunning Truth About Being Alone

Sometimes, you have sudden, unexpected changes in your life.

One day it’s that way….and then something happens….and it’s another way. Never to return to the old way.

Recently, a lovely inquirer contacted me to do The Work on something that comes up regularly: her partner left. 

Another woman and I did The Work together on her cancer diagnosis. 

I can guarantee that for both these situations…there are thoughts of Before and After. 

Before….things were good. After….things not so good.

I’m in the newly updated football stadium of the local huge university. The Sports Medicine clinic takes up the entire underground level, new state-of-the art rooms and lots of wood and purple.

I check my cell phone. No internet down here. They should put that in. I could be getting something done. Instead of sitting here by myself.

The doctor comes in and pulls out a cool wall-mounted screen. He shows me the black and white image of my entire pelvis, which looks like a butterfly, or a weird beetle. 

He’s pointing to something white and saying “see, no hamstring here…it’s just Not There…I think you’ll pretty much HAVE to get surgery to be able to move about in the future.” 

It doesn’t really sink in until later, when I’m driving away. What exactly did he mean by SURGERY?

I google the internet. Oh. I google the words used in the report of this image. 

I’m not sure when it happens, but it’s like waking up slowly to what needs to happen here. Bunches of thoughts. 

I’ll be in one of those L-Shaped casts for my leg keeping it totally and completely braced and immobile….for several MONTHS. Can’t put weight on it for 3 months, will maybe go on a jog at 6 months. And I’m told I won’t be back to normal for a YEAR.

OK then!

The mind kicks in on all the things I might not get to do: the New Year’s Cleanse, dancing next weekend, sitting at the Thanksgiving table, DRIVING, getting on an airplane in January….going to the bathroom easily. 

A thought rises to the top, with the mind rushing. From smooth, deep pool…to Grand Canyon river rapids! 

HHHEEELLLLLPPPP!

I’ll be lying on the couch going CRAZY because I can’t go exercise! My muscles will atrophy! 

I’ll have to just…..just….SIT THERE.

Kind of odd, really. Because this is often the result after a big major life-changing event.

Your partner leaves, and you are sitting there. In a room by yourself. 

You find out you have cancer, and you are sitting there. You’re the only one who has it, in this particular way, right in this moment. You’re on your own.

You lose your job, and you are sitting at home. In a room by yourself.

You’re in a big accident, and you are lying in a hospital bed. By yourself.

I know there’s lots of people around, too, but I’m talking about awareness of the most difficult moment in the midst of all this. 

What is actually happening, in this terrible moment when I have lost something, lost someone, lost my life as I knew it?

Am I sure it’s terrible, that it WILL be terrible soon, that it will be terrible forever?

Since I cannot know the future, what I CAN look at, and answer…is my answer to this question: is this truly horrendous, disastrous, shattering, devastating, horrifying, tragic?

Right now. Well?

OK, well, now that you put it that way. Right NOW, I’m actually writing this note. I don’t feel much pain. I’m sitting up. 

I’m not sure how I will feel, later, after the operation, when I’m lying down and I’m not even ABLE to sit up.

It may seem a small point. But the anticipation of the terrible moment in the future is actually a little, well, a little crazy to go into. 

It’s like saying…OK, let’s get stressed out NOW because you’re going to get stressed out LATER.

I look around, at NOW. There’s a desk, this beautiful cream-colored couch, dark morning air outside, murmuring early-morning voices walking past, a bookshelf full of the best books on the planet, a happy kitchen.

Don’t I pay sometimes to go sit in total silence with a small group of people interested in being all alone, and quiet?

How do I react when I think that what is happening right now is worrisome, or that I have to prepare for the unpleasant thing about to happen in the future?

I get jittery in my chest. I have images flash before my eyes. I see myself wasting away into skin and bones…and turning into a skeleton…and dying.

Seriously, the mind is very dramatic. 

I felt this way when my former husband left, too. Like I was so vividly aware of a space of emptiness, I could stay lying on the bed forever and not talk with anyone for 3 days, and just read and space out and stare. 

But who would I be without the thought that I KNOW it’s gonna be rough later? 

Without the thought that later, it will not be possible to be happy?

Without the thought that this here, right now, sucks?

Wow…I catch this little glimpse of it being very interesting to be immobilized in a cast-brace-thing and not be able to move, like Houdini, for two weeks.

(Oh, Houdini escaped within 3 minutes? Don’t remind me!)

Ahem. Back to inquiry. Who would you be without the thought that the AFTER of this whole operation thing will be difficult? 

I see advantages. 

No packing up my gym gear for the gym. Not necessary to be in great physical condition to have a happy life. No driving a car, paying for gas, just not necessary to go ANYWHERE. 

In this moment, without the thought that THIS, Reality, is BAD….I actually kind of find this all funny. I’m sitting in a room all by myself. 

Holy Moly!

There are all kinds of things I can do, on that couch in the future, without the thought that being alone, lying there by myself, is a bad thing.

Concentrated time on my business re-tweaking my website. Finishing my little booklet on hitches that come up with The Work as you begin to do it. Completing that third draft of the parenting ebook that people are already downloading (it will be much better and more succinct). Writing that dang book proposal that keeps being on the to-do list endlessly and keeps getting bumped to the bottom. 

“You can just as easily identify with a problematic body and make the body’s imperfection, illness, or disability into your identity….Once the ego has found an identity, it does not want to let go…..[but] no matter what your body’s appearance is on the outer level, beyond the outer form it is an intensely alive energy field.” ~ Eckhart Tolle 

Even if I died during the operation (remember? Drama Queen mind?) I actually might find THAT quite interesting. 

“Any feeling of discomfort or stress is an alarm that lets you know you’re believing an untrue thought.” ~ Byron Katie

“Just take five seconds to be quiet……It will stun you, it will really shock you if you’ve never seen it before: how much untruth we take to be as true. THIS is being alone….it’s aloneness inside, alone even from our own concepts.” ~ Adyashanti

Do I want to feel that aloneness, without running from it? That freedom that is so incredible? That wild mystery? Alone, all by myself?

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Love, Grace

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This Body Should Be Different (As In Healed)

The Pain, Sickness and Death telegroup started last night. What a fabulous group of inquirers.

I always say “this is my favorite class!” about every class as it gets underway, but I thought that again.

Because remember that MRI I told you about last week?

I found out my right hamstring is torn and read something in the report like “only a few fibers are connected”.

Visions of floating, ripped, shredded ends-of-hamstring…..with the last threads hooked to the bone ready to get disconnected any minute….popped into my mind.

They should be connected!

Milliseconds later, almost simultaneously, Attack of The Self movie begins. What a ding-bat! I told you I shouldn’t have done that gymnastics move! You are so stupid! 

See!?!

The thoughts come in like a wave. This situation is not good. Things are floating when they should be attached. I’ll never run, jump, dance, do gymnastics the same again. It’s all down hill from here.

But honestly…and I don’t know how this happens except from constantly returning to The Work and inquiring into these fearful beliefs…about 30 seconds later I was wondering what interesting, good, or advantageous thing would come from this?

Bizarre, right?

But thank goodness.

Ask the four questions often enough, and they start to sink in or become more automatic, it seems.

Is it true that this part of the body should be connected to that part of the body?

Is it true that anything that you’ve observed that is separated from something SHOULD be connected to it instead?

I have thought this many, many times, in many situations…dishes that broke in two, relationships that ended, friends or family who I haven’t seen,  buildings where the roof was blown off by a hurricane, divorce, my child leaving home.

It really should have stayed connected. That would be better!

Are you sure?

Yes. This is painful. This costs money. This is hard. This is sad.

Can you absolutely know that it’s true?

Even if you answer “yes” again…carry on. It seems like my hamstring really should be connected to the bone. Although I can’t necessarily know 100%…it would be my preference.

But this is not about MY preference.

Oh. Right.

I can feel what it’s like to believe that any of these things should be connected, as they once were….not separated.

Angry, disturbed, terribly frightened. Visions of what has to happen to fix or repair it.

So who would I be without the thought that the state it is in, apparently disconnected and separated, is TERRIBLE?

I have no idea what this means about the future. I’m way more relaxed. I’m very curious about what the sports medicine doctor says when I see him.

I turn the thought around to the opposite: the hamstring should be disconnected from wherever it’s supposed to attach.

I should be disconnected from that person, that house, that friend. Those dishes should be broken.

I may have no idea why….yet.

But even being open to this turnaround being as true…that is expansive, I’m anticipating with an open mind.

I get to feel that this “body problem” is not so important. Joy is still present. Joy and Peace are still possible, right here, right now, with disconnected hamstrings.

“How do you live when you believe the thought that your body should be different? How does that feel? “I’ll be happy later, when my body is healed.” “I should be thinner, healthier, prettier, younger.” This is a very old religion. If I think my body should be different from what it is now, I’m out of my business. I’m out of my mind!” ~ Byron Katie

WOW! Amazing situation, and I’m living in the middle of it, wondering what will happen next….since it’s up to Reality and the business of Something Bigger….not me.

All I can do is open to what’s next .

My part is inquiring. My part is to open my hands, stop clenching against this situation, to stop feeling like a victim.

“Stop pretending that you are in bondage—stop telling yourself that lie! Stop pretending to be someone, or something! You are no one, you are no-thing! You are not this body or this mind. This body and mind exist within who and what you are. You are pure consciousness, already free, awake, and liberated. Stand up and walk out of your dream. I am here to say that you can do this.” ~ Adyashanti

I can walk out of this dream—and I don’t need a hamstring to do it! Ha!

You can too.

Love, Grace

 

 

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From Terrible To Wonderful

Several years ago I was in the gorgeous, dark, rainy, bustling city of Vancouver, BC.

Vancouver is only 3 hours drive from my city of Seattle. And about the same color of green-blue-gray, huge old evergreen trees, dramatic dark green mountains, and lots of coffee houses.

Only it’s Canada. There’s something cooler about being in Canada.

Everyone secretly agrees. (OK, that may not be true).

So there I was staying with a dear friend, reuniting with her after something like thirty years (she immigrated to Vancouver, which is one of the things that makes that city cool).

During the day, I attended a very small conference, with perhaps 40 people. Our speaker was the fascinating Dr. Hew Len who practices ho’oponopono, a method of cleaning, clearing, un-doing the overwhelming energy of personal stories, stress, pain, unhappiness.

My favorite!

At first, I thought he was bonkers.

Although he was academically trained, and had successfully earned a medical degree, he spoke of going beyond the mind.

Or actually, leaving the mind out altogether.

Leave the mind out? What? But I LOVE my mind! And it likes to THINK! And feel superior!

I got to have lunch with him. There were several of us, and I sat right next to him.

I asked him “How did you find this process you’re teaching? How did you find ho’oponopono?”

He looked at me gently and said with a twinkle in his eye “I stumbled into it. Just like you are, right now.”

Pause.

What? No story?

This was interesting. I noticed my mind really wanting to ask questions. I was also a little nervous. I felt like I was in the presence of someone very special. Very wise.

(See the Grace Note from last Sunday morning for more on that).

He wasn’t imposing himself or his ideas on me.

It was awesome. And different.

We were quiet a moment, perhaps someone else asked him something, or said something that I can’t remember, and then I asked again, going off on another hook, hoping for relief, “what do I do about my rage at my daughter?”

Again, a short answer.

He said “clean”.

Clean up your thoughts, un-ravel your negative thinking. Say “I love you” to her silently. Thank you, please forgive me, I’m sorry.

All in a flash of a moment, I was back to myself.

He had used the word “stumbled”. I liked that. I realized this meant that he was actually talking about the universe or something else, NOT ME, being the one in charge.

Who would I be without the thought that any of my contentious relationships, that any of my little annoying exchanges, or any of my so-called problems or my “dilemmas” need to be handled, yesterday?!

I would pull my head up out of the underwater world of believing EVERYTHING I think and I would feel some space.

I would feel emptiness and silence and big question marks….but it would be fine to not have any answers.

Oh.

Maybe that IS the answer.

Maybe you just stumble into it. The empty unknown magical mystery of it all.

“What seemed terrible changes once you’ve questioned it. There is nothing terrible except your unquestioned thoughts about what you see. So whenever you suffer, inquire, look at the thoughts you’re thinking, and set yourself free. Be a child. Know nothing. Take your ignorance all the way to your freedom.” ~ Byron Katie

Last two spaces left in Pain, Sickness and Death telecourse that starts TODAY at 5:15 pm Pacific time. Click here to read more.

Join me and this wonderful group to take a look at the Biggies that tend to cause us to seek out some answers from other people besides ourselves.

Maybe you’ve got the answer inside of you, already. Ya never know.

Love, Grace

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Welcoming This Ailment As If You Had Invited It

Tomorrow the Pain, Sickness and Death telegroup starts 5:15-6:45 pm Pacific Time. There are still a few spaces! We meet for six weeks.

It’s interesting that this class is starting tomorrow.

Because I’ve had a sore throat and swollen glands and a stuffed up nose. I’m sick!

On this great hierarchy of maladies, it’s the least concerning in most of our minds, right?

I feel the symptoms. My ears hurt a little. I’m not awake at my usual very early morning hour. My voice is off.

But I really don’t know what the actual cause is, specifically, in THIS body. There are simply sensations moving about, changing, aching.

And I have an awareness that the body is making corrections, adjusting, healing, moving something through.

But my mind is not afraid. It’s not thinking “I could die from this”. It’s not thinking “I’ll never recover and live the rest of my life with this pain in my throat”.

It’s not getting all dramatic and going off on tangents trying to find a cure. I don’t feel panic, or sadness.

However, if a doctor or someone I thought of as educated, someone whose opinion I trusted, said “Uh oh. This is a dangerous situation. It’s not just a cold,” I would probably have a jolt of adrenaline run through me.

That’s what happened when I had a little mole biopsied almost seven years ago.

The mole was so small, that this “biopsy” (meaning they take some of the tissue by cutting it off carefully with a very sharp medical knife) practically removed the whole entire mole from my right thigh.

It had been there for about a year. My doctor had said it didn’t look like anything to be alarmed about.

But it grew a little bigger over that year. I kept feeling it all the time, more and more often. This bump in my skin, like the eraser on a small pencil.

The biopsy required four stitches. There was a round ball under the surface of my skin.

My doctor said to come back in a week and she would send the tissue off to a lab so they could analyze it.

The next week, back in the doctor’s office, she came in and said with a smile “let’s get those stitches removed”. I had only had stitches once in my entire life, and that was in 1976 with a broken right ankle after a crazy gymnastics vault landing that required surgery.

I thought about how amazing it was that humans found that the skin is like fabric, and that you can sew it back together.

But then the doctor said “OK, you can put your pants back on and have a seat here, and I’ll be back to talk about the results of the biopsy.”

Oh yeah, the results! Cool!

Wait.

You mean, this is like “results” that have to wait for me to be seated? Not the kind of results that you say while you’re also removing stitches like “everything looks good”.

That doctor hadn’t said any of those light sounding words.

Then it washed through me like a wave crashing.

Damn.

It’s cancer or something. What else grows a “tumor”? It’s cancer. What else requires me to get fully dressed and have a seat?

That all happened within 30 seconds.

She came in. I heard the words “sarcoma” and “….generally see this in people of color”….and “need to go see a surgeon who specializes…”

I couldn’t really hear everything, because my mind was having a heart attack.

That’s one of the moments that was born in my life for The Work, for personal inquiry, for looking at what I was afraid of, that I thought was true.

A few days later, I took out paper, and began writing down my thoughts.

Thoughts about death, treatment, dying, hurting, surgery, the future, the past.

I found out, by doing The Work, that things weren’t as bad as I thought.

Who would I be without the thought that this situation was dangerous, that cancer was life-threatening, that I was doomed?

Not terrified. That’s all I could come up with at first. Not exactly “happy” and welcoming….but NOT TERRIFIED was surprisingly better than terrified.

Who would I be without the thought that cancer was horrifying, the worst that could happen?

On a continuum that carried forward into the unknown. On a mystery ride.

Just like everyone else.

“Loving what is, is not kinda liking what is, or kind of appreciating what is, it’s not accepting what is….it is good. It is really exciting.” ~ Byron Katie

If you want to take an interesting journey into questioning beliefs about sickness, physical ailments, pain that seems to hurt, cancer, death…then come join the telegroup starting tomorrow. Click here to register.

You do not have to have something serious occurring in your life, or be a survivor of some kind of trauma….

….you can simply notice that you have fearful, annoyed, angry, or very painful beliefs about physical threats, conditions, or circumstances.

You notice you are interested in honestly questioning these beliefs about living inside a vulnerable body.

Who knows, whatever ails you may be your spiritual path.

I know it’s been mine.

I’d love you to join me in inquiry, to end the fearful thinking.

“Welcome the present moment as if you had invited it. It is all we ever have, so we night as well work with it rather than struggling against it. We might as well make it our friend and teacher rather than our enemy.” ~ Pema Chodron

Love, Grace

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I Gotta Get Outta Here!

I was lying on a flat white slab in pale blue hospital scrubs. All jewelry, hair clip, rings removed.

The technicians put a strap around my ankles to bind them together, and something heavy and flat across my upper torso.

They asked me if I wanted to listen to music and when I nodded yes, they put a big earphone head set over my head. On top of the earplugs I already had inserted. 

Then with buzzing and whirrs and machine sounds, I was pushed into a white donut hole tube, with the wall only inches above my face. 

Suddenly, I had the feeling of going into a coffin….um, OK. Are you sure this thing is safe?

Jeez, is this really necessary, I mean, it’s not like this procedure taking pictures of my hip will actually STOP the injury pain, right?

Maybe, on second thought, I’m good. 

Nevermind! I don’t need an MRI afterall!

“To he who is in fear, everything russles.” ~ Sophocles

Heh heh.

Almost immediately as I went into the tube…..with my gut starting to clench with slight unexpected panic….something also reminded me of inquiry, like almost simultaneously.

I’m trapped, I need to get outta here, this is dangerous.

Is this true?

This is not the only time I’ve believed this thought. 

Have you ever been in a dark alley on a rainy night, a run-down warehouse on the edge of town, or an abandoned car on a remote highway? 

Like, you know, people in those scary movies? (That I will NEVER watch, by the way).

Or what about at a family holiday gathering? A huge too-loud concert? A really really boring meeting? Or when you just did something kind of embarrassing.

I’m trapped, I need to get outta here, this is dangerous. 

Right?

I love it when inquiry rises up to the moment.

Is it actually true? Seriously? Entirely true?

Am I really not safe, and trapped?

No.

How do I react when I believe it? When the thought shouts in my head?

A wave of adrenaline blasts through my system. I have pictures of not being able to move, of dying a slow death of suffocation, gasping desperately for air. 

I’m a victim. No way out. Really scary music starts playing in the back ground, or really sad music.

So who would I be without the thought that in this situation, I’m trapped, or that I have to get out, or that I’m in danger?

Pretty huge question. But very profound.

Without the thought that I am not safe, my whole entire body relaxes. 

I don’t know what’s in store for me, but just any sense of openness to what might happen next, there is a tinge of sweetness.

I don’t have to love it, I don’t have to be overjoyed about this situation…but I notice I’m not overwhelmed with fear. 

Even when I feel some fear. It’s not all of me.

In the big MRI machine, I hold really still so this doesn’t have to go any longer than necessary, and I fall asleep.

Without the thought that some location is unsafe, terrifying, dangerous….

….I look around and see space, shapes, light, absence of light, I hear sounds, quiet, silence, I feel air against my skin. 

I notice that nothing is happening to my actual body. 

I am free, I don’t need to go anywhere, this is safe. 

In this moment, this is entirely and completely true, just right in this exact short moment with no future. 

Everything very alive, pulsing, moving. Strong energy present.

In other words, I’m not turning passive, I’m not denying that things are alert, strong, and powerful in this organism. 

But I am looking very clearly at what is and what is NOT true.

“Fear and insecurity always wait for any and all who dare to probe the depths of the Unknown. The true seeker of liberation must have an uncompromising desire to discover Eternal Truth, a desire that outweighs any tendency to hesitate and contract in the face of fear. It is only when the fear of the Unknown is openly embraced that it begins to transform into the positive energy and intensity necessary to awaken from conditioned existence.” ~ Adyashanti

As I investigate even the smallest worry honestly….

…I may become accepting of my fear, fascinated with the insecurity that bubbles up. 

This is aliveness, desire, intensity!

I’m ready to bust out of all those conditioned beliefs about being trapped in coffins and what-not. 

It was only my thinking that was trapped, victimized, fearful, and dangerous!

Everything else was fine.

Woohoo!

If you’re wanting connection with others to examine fears that come forward around Pain, Sickness and Death….then what a wonderful time to do it. The PSD Teleclass starts next Tuesday, 5:15-6:45 pm Pacific time. Limited to 8 participants. 

Register Here now, or write if you have questions: grace@workwithgrace.com 

Love, Grace

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No One Can Leave Me, Even In Death – Happy Birthday Dad

I know LOTS of people tried to download the little parenting ebook. Go here to do it instead and click Download. Looking forward to your feedback (just hit reply any time and let me know what you like or don’t like about it): 

Get How To Be A Happy Parent Free Ebook.

****

Speaking of parents.

Today would be my dad’s 83rd birthday. But he died long ago in 1990 barely making age 60.

I think about him every year on this day, and many others. With immense gratitude.

He came to me immediately just now, after I woke up. I was sitting in a chair with a dark misty early morning all around through the windows, damp and green and very quiet, as it is often in the Pacific Northwest. 

I can see him in my mind standing near the front door, with his walking stick, his flat wool cap, his wire-rimmed glasses and gray speckled beard, asking “shall we go on a little walk?”

But the gratitude used to be all mixed up with despair, loss and missing him.

That was before doing The Work. Before time passed.

One of my very first realizations after beginning the questioning of my deep-seated beliefs was finding a sense of peace with death. 

One of my sisters had already attended The School for The Work. She shared with me two important things she learned from her experience there.

  1. Our dad did not actually die (say what?)
  2. A total stranger, another participant at the event, had accidentally caused the death of his own two year old child….and it didn’t kill HIM, emotionally

These two pieces of information jet-propelled me to the next School.

I wanted to understand, and face, death. So terrifying!

What on earth could this idea mean, that our dad did not actually die? I mean, I sat with him as he took his last breath. I felt his hand grow cold.

His body is no longer around. I haven’t seen him in over two decades. 

The most profound awareness came over time, gently investigating a pretty simple belief. 

What I mean by belief is something I repeated over and over to myself in my mind: my dad died.

Is it true? 

Yes. I was there. He’s gone. He never got older than sixty.

Right at this point is when I used to cry, feel such sadness I felt my throat close and my heart break. It felt horrible. 

But I kept going anyway, with this process of inquiry.

Can I absolutely know that it’s true that my dad died? 

It may sound odd, but can I absolutely know….beyond a shadow of a doubt….that he is gone, forever, that there is nothing at all left of him, anywhere?

No. I can’t know this at all. I remember him. This memory alone shows there is something here of him. 

I can have a conversation with my dad and get a real solid sense of what he’d tell me, how he’d answer a question I asked. I can see him in my mind vividly.

And as for physically, where bodies go, where cells and life and energy move, I definitely can’t know that this is dead. 

In fact, it’s unlikely, scientifically.

So, no, strangely enough….I can’t absolutely know it’s true that my dad died.

How did I always react when I believed that thought?

Devastated. Wishing he was here. Frightened. Wondering why it’s set up like this on planet earth, with such loss. 

How did I treat myself, internally, when I believed my dad died? 

Like something was missing that I couldn’t quite have, without him. Like I couldn’t make it as well in life. Like I was smaller somehow.

Then the great question: Who was I without the belief that my dad died?

Or, without the belief that I was missing something because he died, that it was devastating or terrible? 

Walking down the street, driving my car, doing laundry, reading a book, going to the gym, playing with my kids, buying groceries….hadn’t I actually done all these things hundreds of times WITHOUT my dad?

I mean, I had moved out of my parents house about 8 years before he “died”. 

I had done a lot on my own. Without sadness. Without thinking “oh this is so so so terrible and devastating that my dad isn’t here right now.” 

That’s what it would be like without the thought. I already knew what that was like. 

I would smile as his memory and image entered my mind. 

Or, I might sob and weep with love, feeling the bittersweet grief pouring out. All mixed with happiness. 

“I love to say, ‘No one can leave me. They don’t have that power.'” ~ Byron Katie

Turning the thought around, I find my dad lived, my dad is alive. 

It seems as true or truer, even if his body is no longer here. 

(Everyone’s body is eventually no longer here. What did I expect?)

I see his back go around a corner ahead of me down the block. He just drove by in a car. I saw him gardening at the pea patch from the bus window. My son just sounded exactly the same as my father, although they never met. Little glimpses.  

I don’t know any way to be with this than being with it. 

The final turnaround to my belief: I died (when my dad died).  

Something did die, but maybe that’s not so terrible. A dependence died. A clinging died. An expectation that I must have my dad. 

I’ve now had to stand on my own two feet, without having a father in this world. 

“If you’ve been up all night and cried till you have no more tears left in you — you will know that there comes in the end a sort of quietness. You feel as if nothing was ever going to happen again.” ~ C.S. Lewis

If you’d like to explore pain, sickness and death in a small telegroup, we begin on Tuesday, October 29th, 5:15-6:45 pm pacific time.  Register Here. As always, ask me if you have concerns about the fee grace@workwithgrace.com.  

Love, Grace