Eating Peace: Believe this Fairy Tale Horror Movie, and Battle Food

Many of us grow up with rules.

Sometimes, there’s great fear put forth about why the rules are in place: Don’t go there! Watch out! Be careful! Never, ever, ever go down that street! Worry about this! Be afraid, very afraid!

This is the attitude I heard, and began to adopt starting pretty young (childhood): Be afraid. Be very afraid of food. Certain types of food are bad and evil. Sugar, candy, bit-o-honey, bread, chicken skin.

People are easily susceptible to overeating, gaining weight, being fat, being ugly, being rejected, appearing as weak.

WATCH OUT.

You must be very, very, very careful NEVER to go down that road, and control yourself…..lest you fall into rejection and have a black mark on your soul.

Yikes.

But I’m not kidding.

In this mindset, we get fixated on needing to appear successful and show up beautiful and forever eat the “right” and “good” foods.

The comparison becomes intense. It’s vital I look a certain way, in order to be safe and connected and seen as a good citizen, good family member, good daughter.

The problem is, it’s a fairy tale, and no way to live when it comes to food and eating, if you want to enjoy yourself.

It’s so important to question this bitter and frightening story that food is a dangerous mine field, and put it to rest.

You can regain your sense of inner peace and personal authority.

Who would you be without the belief that some foods are against the law, you need willpower, you have to control what you eat, or there’s something horrifying about eating? What if there was no Law Book or Bible of Eating and dieting?

What I discovered, is as I remained calm and questioned what I most feared about eating, about food, and about life outside of food and eating….I found laughter, curiosity, peace, and power (in a good way).

Without our stories about food, eating, emotions and ourselves and our potential (to fail, especially) we find eating peace.

It’s here, now.

Much love,

Grace

 

This meeting is such a waste of time (+ many “meetings” for spring inquiry–LOL)

Tomorrow it’s that time again: First Friday open inquiry for everyone online (or on your phone). This time we’re meeting 7:00 am-8:30 am Pacific Time/10 am Eastern/4 pm Europe. (Next month June 1st we’ll be meeting at noon PT). By request I’m switching the times around so people from different time zones can come. Get the link and instructions for joining for free right here.

I haven’t always loved audio teleclass connections for learning or sharing time with people live. So many possibilities of something not working. Or being bored by the content. Or getting distracted by something else happening on my computer.

Remember when teleconferences first started getting offered? Dropped calls, bells and whistles, background noise, internet failure, horrible audio with weird alien spaceship sounds and peoples voices getting distorted, scratchy static. And then there’s video conferences, too.

Sometimes it seemed like a comedy of errors. (For a 3 min laugh watch this). Hilarious.

Somehow, despite the bumpy ride, I’ve grown to love it. Coming online whether audio or video is the primary way I wind up connecting with the majority of people in The Work.

But you might notice thoughts like these, and I’ve had each and every one when it comes to meetings, of many different kinds:

  • this is soooooo slow
  • I can’t relate to that person who’s talking
  • I don’t have this thought, ever
  • I’d rather be ________
  • this is too painful or vulnerable to share (or hear)
  • I hate that person’s voice
  • I’m bored

Even on a shared call in The Work itself, I found it powerful to sit with my very thoughts about what I believed was working or not working in that moment. This inquiry can be applied to any group setting. Any meeting (even in person). Any process where communicating appears to be happening.

It’s fascinating what shows up in these kinds of inquiries where we’re not really that upset, but we still have irritable thinking.

So if you’ve ever been in a meeting or sharing group of some kind and found it annoying, picture that moment and let’s do The Work!

Long ago, I was on a Board and I loved the cause. But I didn’t have a good attitude towards the meetings.

Meetings are dull. This moment is boring, a waste of time, I can’t relate, I gotta get outta here….

Is it true?

Yes! And it’s just getting worse!

Can you absolutely know it’s true?

Pretty much. Yeah. LOL.

How do you react when you think listening and being where you are is a waste of time?

I figure out how to escape. I’m outta here. My mind is a million miles away. I might start thinking about options for what to do next, the minute I hang up or leave. Everything else becomes more important than this moment. I could be doing laundry, writing, reading, outside, eating, drinking, watching TV. Come to think of it I am really thirsty and I have to go to the bathroom.

Who would you be without this thought?

Kind of weird.

That Board meeting comes to mind from long ago. Or a school classroom as a child.

Who would I be in that situation, without my thoughts of irritation, escape and boredom?

I’d speak up. I might even interrupt or share. It wouldn’t have to mean I’d jump in and attack someone for going on too long or disagreeing with them. But I wouldn’t wait, somehow. I’d feel a thousand times more solid and loving and connected to the people in the room.

I might notice during the meeting the cadence of voices, the people’s attention and their faces, the air in the room, the quietness of the space between sound. I’d see the empty white board on the wall. Or in my home while on a telecall, I’d look through the skylights at the tall gorgeous pine tree overhead where eagles land. I’d really listen to the voices I’m hearing.

I’d feel the connection we have.

Noticing the subtlety of being in this insignificant, non-memorable moment and feeling it come more to life, like in full color instead of black-and-white.

Hello world. How did we all get here?

As I questioned my thinking about being a part of teleconferences or meetings: I’d fall into more of a meditation of rest, and calm, sound and wondering. I’d know how to be with this moment for my benefit, and how important each and every participant is who is there–a unique moment on planet earth.

“Only in this moment are we in reality. You and everyone can learn to live in the moment, as the moment, to love whatever is in front of you, to love it as you….The miracle of love comes to you in the presence of the uninterpreted moment.” ~ Byron Katie

Turning the thought around: This meeting is interesting, meaningful, a great use of time.

Why not?

And it doesn’t mean I have to stay rooted to my chair, or force myself to be excited when I’m not. I can get up and say with clarity and honesty that I’m not able to stay any longer (I did this about a month ago).

Even though I left the meeting, I can still find very interesting things about that moment, and what was being shared. I can see if there’s anything I’m against, anything I heard that triggered me unconsciously (the answer was “yes” in that moment I left that meeting last month).

Turning it around again: My thoughts are boring and dull, meaningless, a waste of time….especially when it comes to this meeting, this way of thinking.

Haha! So true. I worked myself up into a tizzy and proclaimed with guilty excuses “I have to quit!” without contemplating one single way I might help make this meeting be awesome.

Long ago on the Board, I quit contributing to an amazing cause I really care about, just because I didn’t like the meetings. I didn’t talk to one single person about it on the Board. I never tried to switch it up. I thought of myself as very tiny and insignificant–it never occurred to me to share what I was thinking.

What if I had known how to do The Work and show up (or not) with loving kindness, clarity, action, a sense of responsibility in a good way, movement, life?

Hmmm. Maybe it’s time to see how that non-profit is doing I care so much about, and consider participating again.

Who would you be without your thoughts about meetings, gatherings, conferences?

Much love,

Grace

P.S. A few upcoming options if you’re drawn to share time in The Work with others. Questions? Reply back and I’ll answer.

  • Spring Retreat Seattle May 16-20 (we opened up 3 spots as the room available is expanded–yay)
  • Online Happy Parent TeleCourse: Tuesdays 4-5:30 pm PT May 8-June 26. Read more here.
  • Mother’s Day Living Turnarounds Half Day In Person Retreat 2-6 pm my house. May 13. Sign up here.
  • Breitenbush Retreat still has a few spots for June 13-17 with me and Todd Smith in the Oregon Cascades.

I’m A Terrible Mother! (+Parenting Relief Online workshop 5/1)

May 1st 4-6 pm Pacific Time: Happy Parent Online Workshop. For those wanting to dig in to The Work on parenting, you’ll learn common stressful thoughts we parents have that keep us frightened or upset. We’ll then go through a powerful step to narrow our focus on what’s not working (so it’s more manageable), and question it.

You’ll leave with awareness of what YOU need to work on around parenting your kids to bring yourself relief, freedom and happiness. Sign up here.

When I first heard about The Work, I was intrigued but to be honest, I wasn’t necessarily saying to myself “this is exactly what I’ve been waiting for!”

It was a little confusing.

The idea of questioning my stressful thinking and transforming it somehow made sense though.

I knew first hand that when I believed something was messed up, or that I was doing something wrong….

….I felt awful.

And then, when I felt awful….I grew serious, sad, even depressed and hopeless. My attitude about life itself would take a plunge.

Starting when I was a teen, I’d also eat when I felt awful or hopeless. When I wasn’t hungry. I’d eat with guilt, worry, anger and rebellious feelings–sometimes all at the very same time.

In fact, my off-balance eating had led me in great despair to finding peace, healing, calm and exploring what the heck had made me go so far and get so bad?

But I didn’t really put it all together that my negative attitude about anything (food, people, life) produced suffering within (and weird eating) until later, after I learned how to do The Work.

The Work, I could see, was a way to identify and question disturbing ideas and find a new way of perceiving a situation that was always more peaceful or more exciting or more fulfilling.

Before then, I definitely wanted more positive ways of thinking. I sometimes called myself Eyore. You know the donkey in Whiney The Pooh? So pessimistic! Nothing’s ever going to go right!

When I first encountered The Work as a way of transforming thought, my kids were about 6 and 9 years old.

I couldn’t help but notice….I wasn’t so happy when it came to how I was with my kids at times. Not all the time, just sometimes.

They’d fight, and I’d get irritated. They’d interrupt a phone call, and I’d feel embarrassed. They wouldn’t clean up after themselves, and I felt burdened. They’d scream when I turned off the movie, and I felt annoyed. I’d want their dad to come take them away, so I could get a moment of peace and calm.

I was super tired. I was trying so hard to be a great mom.

But I was actually terrified that one simple, harsh thought might be true: I am a terrible mother.

Oh no.

If I had this thought, I’d try harder to be a good one. And get MORE exhausted.

So let’s question this thought. And if you don’t have kids you can question the thought “I’m a terrible _____”. It might be friend, partner, sibling, daughter, son, employee, spouse.

Notice the scene when you think this is true. Because I guarantee you aren’t thinking this frightening thought every minute of the day.

Is it true?

Yes. I yelled at my kids. I screamed and lost it and overrode THEIR bickering with my screams. It was like an explosion came out of me. That was bad mothering.

Are you absolutely sure it’s true?

No. I am not all-knowing. I do not have a clear thought-process going. I’m complaining, even if it’s about me. I know it’s not absolute forever for all time that I’m a bad mother. Just sometimes, and I’m not sure how helpful it is to make that declaration.

(It isn’t).

How do you react when you believe “I’m a terrible mother (or whatever identity you’re filling in there)?

Like crawling into bed with the covers pulled over. Or worse. Which would make this even more horrible. It’s hellishly discouraging to believe this thought.

So who would you be without this stressful belief? What would it be like to NOT have it?

What about the times you’re so overjoyed with your kids? Or the love you feel in your heart towards them (or the other people around)?

What if this difficult moment didn’t mean anything permanent, or didn’t mean anything blistering, horrible, or condemning….about YOU?

What if you could hold some self-compassion in this situation, just like you might for someone else who has done or encountered the same?

“As you begin to question your mind, mind loses the ability to believe that it’s a this or a that. It ceases to identify itself. It becomes free. It understands that identification is just a state of mind….The ego attempts to make sure that freedom never happens again; it attempts it through fear, it tightens in on itself.” ~ Byron Katie

I’d feel gentle, softer with the thought “I’m a terrible anything”. I’d feel curious. I might even laugh.

Turning the thought around: I’m a wonderful _____. I’m a wonderful mother. I’m a wonderful spouse, daughter, son, sibling, employee, boss, co-worker, human.

How could this be just as true, or truer?

I care. My heart is big. I try hard. I’m sincere. I didn’t get violent, I only screamed loudly. I apologized. I hugged my kids later. Everyone’s still here. I have another chance, today. I’m questioning my thoughts.

Turning the thought around again: My thinking is terrible. 

Wow.

So true. My thoughts picture the ruination of my children. My thoughts remind me of my transgressions and sins. My thoughts are super negative or mildly threatening. My thoughts are very serious, in this situation.

I love when I find it’s only a thought, not me at the core, who is terrible. My thoughts, in that situation, were running rampant on a “terrible” tour, but it was only the mind doing it’s imagination-thing.

Except for my thinking, nothing is actually terrible. Not about me, not about the world.

“When inquiry is alive inside you, every thought you think ends with a question mark, not a period. And that is the end of suffering.” ~ Byron Katie

Join me for a two-hour workshop webinar Introduction on doing The Work for stressed parents, right here ($25).

But most importantly, question your stressful thinking.

Ending the impulse to self-hatred as a correction motivator is the best thing I ever did.

I quit overeating, I quit hating my own mothering. My family became about learning. They were all my teachers.

Now that’s an exciting life to live.

Much love,

Grace

 

Fear. One of the most powerful parts of the equation that keeps eating from being peaceful.

Fear.

We all know what it is.

There’s very mild fear, exciting fear (amusement park fear) and there’s horrifying fear.

Some of us are fans of the first type of fear while others are not, but none of us really enjoy the second type of fear, when the volume is turned up to a ten on the emotional level.

I used to be so against fear, I’d do anything to set the world up so I wouldn’t feel it. Including not leave my house.

The problem is, something wise within knows you can’t ever be guaranteed to be “safe” if you define safety as not feeling strong emotions, not feeling threatened, and not every getting sick, hurt, or dying.

All those things will happen. They mostly already have.

And why is fear so very important to study when it comes to our strange or off-balance eating behavior?

Because it’s present more often than we realize when we eat in ways that don’t feel peaceful. Fear, in many forms. It could be anxiety, worry, upset, nerves, discomfort–large or small.

It arises out of our fearful thoughts about eating (and really about life).

Fear-inducing thoughts go like this:

  • I’ll never get to eat this again
  • I might be hungry later
  • I’ll miss out on something pleasurable
  • I’m too fat
  • Stopping is sad, disappointing
  • I don’t want to think about “x” and I will think about it if I stop eating
  • Thinness isn’t safe
  • The world is a dangerous place
  • people can hurt me
  • I need more sweetness in my life–this moment is sour
  • there’s no easy way to find rest
  • I hate that there’s no guaranteed safety
  • I have to store for a “rainy day” (bad things happening)
  • I am not safe
  • If I stop eating, I’ll have to do things I don’t want to do
  • I need to grab it while I can–pleasure is scarce

These are thoughts distilled down to basic commentary in the mind we have going about food, eating and our bodies.

And they don’t feel good.

But here’s the good news: they’re not even true.

That’s why they’re creating FEAR in the first place!

Step One: look and see the fear. Become aware of how your thinking is creating a sensation or experience, no matter how small and fleeting, of fear.

When we question our thinking, we can see other ways of thinking and being with food that aren’t threatening.

Ahhhhhhh.

Much love,

Grace

Lost daughter, lost mind. I wish I had The Work back then.

Speaking of parenting.

It’s easy for me to say my kids are a breeze. My son’s 23 and my daughter turns 21 in two weeks.

They appear to be so independent, friendly, clear about what they like, exploring possibilities in the world.

And I have days and weeks where I don’t see them physically in the same room and there’s not one request for my attention or help.

I remember longing for this freedom and the ability to rest when they were toddlers. It felt like this would never, ever, ever come again.

When I look back at that time….I realize I might have lifted a huge load of weight from my early mothering experience if I had known I could do The Work.

I could have questioned my thoughts like:

  • I don’t have enough time
  • I am responsible for their happiness
  • I need to do this alone (without other moms, for example, to hang out with)
  • I can’t leave them
  • I’m the only one who knows exactly what they need
  • they need to never suffer
None of these were true. They were incredibly stressful thoughts to think.

 

But here’s one of the most interesting things about my list of worries, complaints, concerns, hopes or dreams for my children: When I boiled it down, I did not trust reality. 

 

But is it true that life will hurt your kids?

 

Think about the plights that people go through: loss, injury, disease, death of others, war.

 

Every human goes through “loss” of all these kinds when living life.

 

These are painful. They hurt. These events cause suffering.

 

Is it absolutely true? Are we sure?

 

I can’t be sure anymore.

 

I’ve sat in The Work with other people and with my own torments and found, shockingly, repeatedly, that awful things are survivable. I’ve found that happiness can flower even after horrible things have occurred.

 

How do you react when you believe life will hurt (see mental list of bad things that can happen)?

 

I’m afraid. I’m cautious. I use a lot of energy to prevent my kids from suffering. I say “yes” to them when I really do mean “no”. I clench inside if they wail. I see pictures in my head of bad things happening that I’ve heard about in the movies.

 

I worry.

 

One night, before I knew of The Work….I had an interesting experience of fear.

 

My then-husband, 3-year old daughter and 5-year old son had been in our new home for about six hours. Dusk grew to dark. We’d have our first sleep in our new place.

 

Boxes were stacked in every room. My then-husband and I were cutting them open, heavy into the unpacking process, making beds, fussing about from kitchen to living room to office to closets.

 

Finally, it was way past time to put out the lights and start a new day tomorrow.

 

I glanced in at my five year old son, in his new bedroom, already building a lego set in a small space on the floor surrounded by cardboard boxes and stacked furniture.

 

I made my way down the hall to my little daughter’s new room with a lavender wall and said “OK, tiny, let’s get your PJ’s on!”

 

She wasn’t there.

 

I called her name. No answer.

 

My husband was putting clothes into our dresser in our room. No daughter in there with him.

 

We began calling her name. My son came running.

 

The main kitchen door had been left standing open as it was a gorgeous Pacific Northwest summer night. It exited to the carport and the dark strip of woods between us and our neighbors, beyond.

 

I rushed through the door and called my daughter. My heart started beating faster and the tension to rise. I spun back into the house thinking it was impossible she’d be outside, so unfamiliar. We started looking under every table and in every room. I was literally running through the rooms, and then back outside again with a flashlight calling her as I shone the light into the woods, retracing my footsteps.

 

Soon the neighbors were helping us, with their flashlights. They looked through the entire house as well, and asked us all the same questions “When do you remember last seeing her? What was she wearing? Does she wander as a three year old–is this normal for her?”

 

Finally, feeling nauseated with fear….we called the local police.

 

Our first night in the new beautiful house. What a terrible omen. This is so horrible. I felt choked up.

 

The police arrived in 3 minutes. (It turned out the police station was 2 blocks away).

 

Two officers came in with their blue uniforms and said they’d like to take a look through the entire house first before doing anything else.

 

I was wringing my hands, thinking of kidnappings, or my little three year old fallen down the hill in the woods, sick with clammy sweat, my mind filled with terrible images.

 

I was saying things like “I’m so stupid” to myself, “I should have watched her closely in this new neighborhood” and “I can’t believe I left the door open” like the very neighborhood itself was suddenly a bad place and I should have been aware of it.

 

I followed the policemen down the hall and stood watching them look through every nook and cranny we had already examined: the closets, under the bed, behind and inside cardboard boxes on the floor, the dresser drawers.

 

As we entered my daughter’s new little bedroom, almost the last room to check, I saw a huge pile of all her stuffed animals dumped in the corner….and one of them moved.

 

Instantly, I felt ridiculous.

 

She had shifted while sound asleep under her stuffed gorilla, her favorite monkey, about five stuffed teddy bears and multiple beanie babies of all shapes and sizes.

 

The policemen said that 98% of the time with lost children, they’re only sleeping somewhere strange.

 

Jeez.

 

I tell this story, because my mind went absolutely ape-sh*t as we used to say, with visions of horror.

 

It was so very unnecessary.

 

Nothing happened except in my imagination, in my thinking.

 

But when I consider these types of fear-riddled moments, I see they came out of the belief “the world is a dangerous place”. That there’s loss. The world takes things I love away from me, including my children. There’s not enough to go around. One has to be very careful.

 

What has been profoundly helpful, is to go back to everything I’ve ever thought of as frightening that actually DID happen (supposedly), and to write down all my thoughts about that experience and take them through the four questions and turnarounds.

 

As I’ve looked at the “worst” things that ever happen to people in life (and sometimes that’s all it took to scare me is hearing third hand about stories)….

 

….I keep finding it’s not as bad as I thought. Ever.

 

Even if they’ve actually happened. I really mean it.

 

“One thing I love about the past? It’s over.” ~ Byron Katie

 

Who would you be without your stressful story of danger lurking out there in the future?

 

“Don’t lose your place. Don’t press Enter. Don’t log on. Only look. Observe. Stay with it. There’s a witnessing of this. Keep quiet. You may feel a lot of energetic noise. Your eyes go blurred in so many directions. But you are just the awareness within which this movement happens. Don’t judge. Don’t interpret. Keep quiet….Identify the presence that watches without boundary, and you’ll come to a point of complete stillness.” ~ Mooji

I notice things come, and things go. Including life itself. In the very moment of birth, death is inevitable.

Who are we without our fears?

Let’s keep finding out. It’s so much better than the alternative. It’s so much better than suffering, suffering and suffering.

Much love,

Grace

P.S. Today at 3:00 pm facebook to talk about the strange turnarounds for “the worst that could happen” becoming “the best that could happen”……Join me on the page here.

She was so rude

Last weekend at the monthly Living Turnarounds Group (people to show up in person in Seattle and do The Work for 4 hours) a lovely inquirer shared a moment from childhood.

She had done something so many of us have done when we’re kids.

Jump out from behind a door to surprise someone, full of joyful, playful intentions.

I remember doing it with my sisters. Accompanied by growls or roars. A wild fluttering feeling of adrenaline might happen for both the one surprising, and of course the one being surprised.

But something about the story was perfect for me, to make obvious how blind spots can live right in front of us.

Her work was marvelous. The inquirer considered thoughtfully every question. The group listened closely, following along, captured by the inquiry process.

Even though I was the one asking the four questions, I was right there too, seeing the scene, doing my own internal inquiry about what it’s like when someone reacts to our “surprise” unexpectedly.

What if they take it the wrong way? What if our efforts aren’t acceptable in someone else’s experience? What if we’re too much?

What if we offer something….and a person says “NO!”?

I remember an incident with a similar quality with my daughter many years ago. I had gathered several movies, popcorn to make on the stove, and envisioned my daughter and I spending Friday night together at home.

When she came in the door late afternoon on Friday, I beamed and clapped telling of my great plans for us.

“Mom.” She looked at me like I had lost my mind. “Those are the dumbest movies ever.” Then off she went to her own bedroom, leaving me in silence a moment, staring after her.

About twenty minutes later, I had a little chuckle. Who would I be without the thought that she was rude to me?

Noticing my own lovely, quiet Friday full of projects, writing, and meditation. Noticing the possibilities. Having a few passing exchanges with my daughter when she emerged from homework and listening to music in her room. Letting the evening unfold however it did. Sharing with her later that her response was a bit harsh-feeling for me. Hearing her immediate apology.

Other times, we had long talks. It just wasn’t THAT night. Mom.

So there we were in this kind of inquiry in our half-day retreat, arriving at the last step: finding the turnarounds.

The original thought for the inquirer’s situation: he exploded at me.

Turned around: he didn’t explode at me. True, found the inquirer. Only with sound and words did something happen. No bombs actually went off. No physical objects went flying. It wasn’t ALL at her specifically–the sound dispersed throughout the entire room, walls, ceiling, floor, furniture all evenly.

In my situation, I can find how my daughter wasn’t rude to me. She simply shared what was true for her in the moment, without any special regard for me (in a good way). She was free to say no. Uninhibited. Clear. No wishy-washy happening. Not sitting through a movie she disliked to make her mom happy, or anything weird like that.

Turned around again: I exploded at me. The inquirer found how when she reminded herself of the incident, she was forever cautious. She maintained pictures of other similar encounters. She told herself passionately to never let it happen again. She called herself bad for triggering the incident. These were inner explosive thoughts towards herself, experienced within.

I could find how in my situation I was harsh or rude with myself. I called myself dumb to have built up expectations for a Friday evening, without asking. I used the “no” against myself, taking it personally and telling a story of a daughter who doesn’t want to do anything with me. Which is so untrue. I suffered because of her response.

Turned around again: I exploded at him. The inquirer went a little blank. What? This is so common for us all who love to inquire. Which is one of the things I love about groupinquiry, and what I got so inspired and sort of amazed by a second later.

Because someone spoke up. “Well, you jumped out and set up the ‘surprise’ in the first place, right? Wasn’t that an explosion?”

LOL.

I don’t know what was so wonderful about it for me…it just had such a sweetly OBVIOUS example right out in the forefront. The first explosion began….with her.

It doesn’t really matter if the explosions had different tones or shapes or sizes….it’s noticing everyone is in the game.

And in my situation I am the one who was a bit rude, made assumptions, planned my kid’s evening without asking, picked out movies without more input.

It’s so precious to know we play a part in the whole theatrical movement of any situation.

It doesn’t mean we’re at fault, they’re not at fault, or there won’t be consequences. It becomes fault-less, curious, sometimes hilarious, fascinating.

It becomes lighter.

I notice life moved on, explosions and rude tones became silence again, new possibilities emerged.

Everything changing.

Even our perceptions of the past.

“I already please everyone, and I already have everyone’s approval, though I don’t expect them to realize it yet.” ~ Byron Katie

Much love,

Grace

P.S. Introduction to The Work on Parenting 2 hour online mini-retreat Tuesday May 1st from 4:00-6:00 pm Pacific Time. $25. Sign up here. There will be slides to watch on your computer or device, and we’ll also do The Work!

What does an abiding, loving, no-brainer “promise” look like? Not one you could break in 15 mins.

We’ve all said to ourselves: I’m never going to do that again. We make resolutions. We vow. We promise.

I’m never going to smoke again. I’m never going to binge again. I’m never going to drink again. I’m never going to eat “x” again.

Then the following week (or okay, a few hours later) we’re doing it. Again.

Someone asked me recently how you could ever make a single promise and keep it?

While you can never know the future, it made me reflect on when I’ve known a promise was keep-able.

What an interesting question, because a positive, supportive and enduring “promise” is very different than a promise made out of fear, anxiety, desperation or rage.

It’s not a “diet” promise. It’s not a violent promise. It’s not a promise that feels forceful and like imprisonment.

It’s important to give foundation and support to a deep commitment and do it with a mind that’s clear, and a heart that’s understanding.

Much love,

Grace

That person needs to come closer, stay, commit, be with you….really?

A lovely young woman was on skype with me, looking so deeply forlorn and disappointed.

The man she called her boyfriend (although she confessed she wasn’t sure he would call her girlfriend) had left that morning, headed for the airport. Again.

He traveled to her city only for business. It was unknown when he would next be in town. They’d known each other as childhood friends and maybe first crushes, but never lived in the same place after leaving their childhood homes.

She already had her fingers crossed she’d see him again.

He had left saying “if you’re going to get so clingy….like I told you before….this is over.”

Yikes.

How is this going to go? I wondered.

Sometimes the person looks so devastated, and they’ve been doing what they’re doing for so long, it’s a curiosity to see how their inner work will go, as they question their thinking.

This young woman had been in this long-distance volatile on-off-on-off relationship for almost 6 years.

I helped her write a Judge Your Neighbor worksheet on the very moment he left her apartment, when he told her he didn’t want “clingy” and she felt shaky, terrified, and then obsessed for days about when to text, if to snapchat, checking facebook, looking through instagram.

Waiting.

He should be different than he is. He should commit to me. He should stay with me. He should make me a priority. He should want to marry me. He should move in with me.

But he doesn’t.

“Is it true?” I asked her.

I must admit I had visions of how tortured she was and how much easier it would be to stop. Even wondering how someone could be so needy, or demanding, and not be able (apparently) to move to any other relationship that was up close in the same town.

I wondered at humanity in that moment, creating so much suffering by arguing with reality.

And then I remembered how her voice was mine. To stop thinking I know how she’d be better without her thought.

Didn’t I once also have this belief, that someone I thought I loved should stay, commit, be different than they were?

Yikes again. I remember. Ugh. (Picture of the guy in my head who I thought should be doing it my way, when he wasn’t).

This lovely woman answered “yes” it’s true. “YES” it’s absolutely true. True, true, true, true.

He should stay with me.

How do you react when you believe he should stay, commit, move in, want to marry…..when he doesn’t?

She began to cry.

She felt desperate, abandoned.

I remembered myself how dreadful that feeling was, and how false it turned out to be. And also how I fought it and thought I shouldn’t feel it.

So many “should nots”.

I listened to her describe her feeling of seeing the absent space where his shoes had been, his coat had hung.

“Who would you be without this thought?” I asked. “In that same moment, if you couldn’t have the thought he should stay, when you’re noticing this empty apartment and the sound of traffic outside, and the hook where his coat hung?”

I love that The Work simply offers this question. It doesn’t answer the question. It doesn’t suggest you shouldn’t be thinking the thought you’re thinking.

It’s beautiful because then, I myself don’t give any answers. My job is to facilitate, to ask, and to listen.

Who would we be without our disturbance, our insisting that it be other than it is? Who would we be without our advice for other people?

Who would we be without our stories of “me”?

It’s such an incredible question, really. No right or wrong answer. Simply a question, waiting for us to use our imagination for something more expansive than what we currently envision. Checking to see if we’ve really got all our information straight.

The young woman took a deep breath, head hung down with her eyes closed. I could see on my skype screen behind her in the background the very door I imagined her companion had left through, with the pretty hooks lined up for coats.

Without the thought, she said…..”I’d be free.”

She described easy days when she worked, studied, hung out with friends. Days when she didn’t have the thought that he should be different, even if he was far way in another country.

But the key is wondering who you’d be without the belief in that very moment of remembering the stressful situation.

How about then? Who would you be right there without your belief?

“Yes…..so free. Letting him go. Happy to have spent some time with him. Moving to what’s next.”

Turning the story around: I should be different with myself. I should commit to me. I should stay with me. I should make me a priority. I should want to marry me. I should move in with me. I shouldn’t leave myself. 

Wow.

I remember discovering these turnarounds myself in the midst of a heavy, powerful sense of wanting it from the other.

I was treating myself at the time like I was a loser, as if coupleness was better than singleness, as if I couldn’t manage to take care of myself, as if my own company and silence itself was haunting.

(I was single, is it true? 🙂

Where was it written that love must come from only one person? Or from anything pre-defined at all?

Turned around again: He should NOT be different. He should NOT commit to me. He should NOT stay with me. He should NOT make me a priority. He should NOT want to marry me. He should NOT move in with me. He should leave me. 

Could these be just as true? Could there be benefits? Are you sure you’ve got the whole picture?

I know for myself, if I had gotten what I wanted, I would not have wanted it. I already had evidence. It was perfect the way it was. The distance was beyond important. It saved my life turning in a difficult direction.

Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it. ~ Rumi

Blessings on all those who believe someone should care more about them, come closer, commit, not leave.

May we all see that the attention and love we want is not within that other person. It is in the divine, in ourselves, in the very breath we breathe.

“If we get really honest, do we get married for love, or convenience? Life is designed for mates….is it true?” ~ Byron Katie

Much love,

Grace

P.S. Last minute shuffle–one spot open again now for this weekend Sunday afternoon mini-retreat Living Turnarounds Group from 2-6 pm.

He’ll suffer unless I feed him NOW (and the goofy thing I did when I believed it)

I had to chuckle the other day.

I was interviewed about The Work and Parenting and Jacqueline Green the wonderful host mentioned my story of nursing my firstborn child and how stressful it was for me one time.

Because I was nursing him in the car.

On the freeway.

While I was in the front seat, and he was in his carseat in the back directly behind me.

My husband was at the wheel.

Yes, I was actually hanging over the back of the seat, leaning over my baby with one breast out so he could nurse, stop crying, and go back to sleep.

Which he did.

I so wish I had The Work at the time.

I was filled with a reaction to his cries and that it meant I must rush wildly in emergency mode to respond to his needs, that we couldn’t wait to pull over.

Good lord.

I called it my crazy gymnastics move and I’m sure my then-husband thought I was completely mad.

Which I was, to be honest.

Mad with the belief that crying meant terrible suffering meant abandonment, and it was imperative that I put myself in actual physical danger. Not to mention it’s illegal to be without a seat belt, for good reasons. (Can you imagine if a cop had seen me and pulled us over?)

Who would I have been without that deeply stressful story?

A calm mother suggesting we need to take the next exit and stop a moment. Noticing all is very well indeed, it’s simply a baby crying, and I’m listening.

I remember doing The Work on this incident several years later, looking back on that situation.

With the thought my son’s crying meant “CALL 911 FEED THE BABY NOW” I felt almost panicked inside. It was interesting to sit with what I had been thinking. All those meanings I had put on that cry, and that moment.

I thought he could be hurt, feel abandoned, and suffer from hunger. I thought I’d be a bad mother if I didn’t show him I cared, and was there.

But when I turned these thoughts around, I saw that I was the one who believed in abandonment and terror of hunger. I couldn’t go five minutes when I felt hungry without being scared or thinking I should remain hungry so I would be thinner (even if I hated it). It was so stressful to be hungry, I had lived with completely whacko eating since I was 18 (even earlier).

I was hearing my own cry for normal, calm response (especially with food) and taking care of myself in a sweet way, instead of believing I both should and should not be hungry at the very same time.

I also saw in the turnarounds that my baby was OK. He wasn’t having some big emotional panic, he was just being a baby and crying in that moment. It didn’t mean I was a bad mother that my baby cried.

Thank goodness for The Work.

It has helped me question similar thoughts about needing to respond to my kids (now 20 and 23) like it’s an EMERGENCY….when it actually isn’t.

I notice I can trust reality to do what it does.

Even the “worst” abandonment we can imagine–the parent that never comes, vanishes, even dies….

….I can even take this kind of trauma and agony to self-inquiry, to question the meanings I’ve placed on people coming and going, on people living and dying, on what kind of response is required for happiness, in any situation.

This takes a radically open mind, and nothing less than an open mind is creative enough to free you from the pain of arguing with what is. And as long as you think that you know what should and shouldn’t happen, you’re trying to manipulate God. This is a recipe for unhappiness.” ~ Byron Katie

Who are we as parents without our painful beliefs?

Willing, patient, OK with not knowing what to do, full of humor….happy.

If you want to see the interview I did today (the one with the nursing-in-the-car story) you can find it by signing up here and watching for free for the next 48 hours.

Much love,

Grace

P.S. If you want to read my nursing story I mention above, and much more about parenting and our thoughts….you can download it here.

Someone needs to tell you what, when and how to eat….is that true?

There’s a basic thought you may not have questioned for many years: someone needs to tell me what to eat, and when.

This arises out of deep self-doubt about what, when, and how we’re eating.

I had this thought regularly when I binge-ate and when I starved and categorized foods into “good” or “bad” foods.

But it was a stressful thought. It kept things on edge. Never trusting what I chose or trusting I was able to stop when full, eat when hungry.

Trouble is, when I felt doubt about knowing how to eat, I dismissed my own sense of hunger or fullness. I completely ignored by own body sensors, my own feeling about what and when to eat.

Who would you be without this very stressful story that you don’t know when or how to eat?

I found, far more confident.

Able to be anywhere, with anyone, at any level of hunger, without getting scared or judging myself.

Without this belief that you don’t know how to do it right, you can become your own very kind caretaker, and very wise caretaker.

Much love, Grace