My latest Peace Talk: the first time I did The Work (it made me sick)

sickdog
Listen to Peace Talk to hear my first time doing The Work, and feeling sick as a dog

Two people wrote to me yesterday and asked if they could get the masterclass replay Ten Barriers to The Work and How To Dissolve Them. Since I got asked twice, out it goes. Replay is now enabled.

To watch and listen to the MasterClass replay, click here. No opting-in. It’s yours, in service. This link will work until September 5th. This is the day before we start Year of Inquiry which I mention at the end of the masterclass–so it will be outdated after YOI begins.
So, if you want to look at it this weekend, or next long weekend in the United States, feel free.
Then it will go into review, revamp, update mode, or potentially be built into a longer series since there was just so much material to cover in two hours (yes, I know–two hours is a long time….so maybe listening to a part, then coming back later is the perfect way for you).

So speaking of those barriers (will she ever stop?) I was thinking about the Big Kahuna Number One Barrier again yesterday.

Which is doing The Work of Byron Katie on yourself. Not other people or things outside of you in your life. Just wanting to do it on YOU.
Now….here’s the funny thing.
I suddenly remembered that the very first time I did The Work ever in public was when Byron Katie came to my city and offered a weekend-long workshop. There were hundreds of people there.
And guess what I did The Work on?

Um. Yes. (After all this talk of not doing The Work on yourself).

Me.

That’s exactly who I filled out my Judge Your Neighbor worksheet on, even though we were invited to NOT fill it out on ourselves and instead consider someone else we might not have forgiven yet.

Me.

But here’s what I remember happened that amazing and horribly difficult weekend. I realized something profoundly important, even though I was “working” on myself.

That I might not be the awful monster I thought I was.

It was a huge beginning to an incredible journey of waking up out of a zombie trance of self-criticism.

So, can I really know it’s difficult or wrong, or even a barrier, to do The Work on oneself?

No.

If you’re one of the people who feels deeply compelled to question thoughts that bring you suffering about yourself, you might enjoy this latest Peace Talk Episode 120.

Even though I spoke on Peace Talk last time about doing The Work on yourself and what to do instead, or how to take it a bit deeper, in this episode I share what happened when I did The Work on myself, anyway.

During that first dreadful weekend workshop, I hardly spoke, I gave no one any eye contact, I never raised my hand (wouldn’t have dreamt of it), felt physically like death warmed over, hated what I wrote on that worksheet…..

…..but something shifted inside of me that was the beginning of the end of the pain…..

…..even though my worksheet appeared to be all about me. 

So even though I’ve gone on and on about Barrier #1 to deepening The Work being the way we want to do it on ourselves at first…..

…..there’s nowhere you can’t go with The Work and nothing that will prevent you from freedom, if you answer the questions.

(Peace Talk is also on IHeart Radio and Stitcher by the way, and it helps spread the word so much when you leave a review or subscribe).

“Thinking that people are supposed to do or be anything other than what they are is like saying that the tree over there should be the sky. I investigated that and found freedom.” ~ Byron Katie in I Need Your Love–Is That True?

This goes for ourselves, too. Thinking WE are supposed to do or be anything other than what we are is like saying something cray cray.

Investigate it.

Much love,

Grace

You Never Did It Wrong

I’m having so much trouble…l can’t stop thinking I did something wrong. I googled the internet on abortion, and your name appeared.

I received this email and my heart went out to the author immediately.

She was struggling the way I had once struggled. Making what felt like a huge decision not to continue an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy.

When that happened for me many years ago, I was shocked by the sickness I felt, by the finality.

I had no idea I would be so horrified by my action. I was in favor of a woman’s right to choose. My mom had hosted abortion rights meetings at our home when I was a kid!

But all of the sudden, I wasn’t so sure. I suddenly understood why there were the debates. I thought I would go crazy with the suffering.

Six months later, I attended a special retreat program my mother had found called Rachel’s Vineyard. It was created as a non-profit to help especially Catholic women (and their partners) recover from abortion.

I was not Catholic. But raised Episcopalian, maybe it was close enough.

I had not been to anything with a religious overlay like that in many, many years.

It didn’t matter.

I thought…if anyone would feel like horse sh*t about having an abortion, it would be someone Catholic. I felt the same. Therefore, I’ll fit in.

The thing that was present at the core of that retreat was the message that I was not evil, I could forgive myself and find peace, and that there was normal life for me following an abortion.

And here, so many years later, I was talking with a lovely woman who also was not Catholic but who was also very surprised at the devastation she felt after making her choice.

“I went against reality” she said.

We set up a session to do The Work.

You may have something, too, that you feel terrible about doing.

That thing you feel ashamed of, that time you yelled and screamed at your kid, or your spouse, that time you lied, stole, cheated, schemed, held resentment, attacked.

You might feel like you acted against what was, you fought reality, you argued with reality, you debated, you forced, you pushed.

Find that moment…and let’s take a walk through that painful belief that brings much suffering.

You argued with reality.

Is that true?

Yes. (Deep sadness, regret, grief).

Are you positively sure? Did you go against reality?

Yes. I’m wrong. I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have. I acted that way. I sinned. I was bad. I ate too much. I took the drugs. I drank. I smoked. I hurt someone else.

How do you react when you believe this?

Pure hell.

I picture the past over and over. I wish wish wish it could have gone differently. I’m so unhappy with me.

Regret. Regret. Regret. Horrible.

But who or what would you be without the belief that you went against reality, that you fought what was so and it should have turned out otherwise, that you made a mistake, that you were wrong?

Ugh. I can’t even find it. I have no idea. Impossible. I can’t feel OK about what happened, I just can’t. I can’t forgive myself.

Then.

A pause.

An opening, just a crack….without the thought. Without that belief in condemnation, punishment, wrong-ness, mistakes, unforgiveable-ness?

A deep breath.

I say “reality also included other children, a partner not ready, the existence of a procedure that was an option, your life in that moment in time.”

Reality included everything.

What happened was the best thing, the best way it could have gone.

Turning the thought around: I went with reality, I merged with reality, I was a part of reality with no separation. There was something right with me. There was no mistake. This is forgiveable. 

There was love.

Can you find that to be as true, or truer?

“It is only the illusion of a separate self (something that believes itself to be outside of life and living in other than the Now which is the only reality) who could believe it is possible to make mistakes. Because, in fact, there isn’t anything going on other than what IS.” ~ Cheri Huber

Who could you be today, as you go about your life, a person who has done nothing wrong, ever?

Try it on and see.

It’s OK. I promise.

Much love, Grace

When I Started The Work, It Made Me Sick

Last night a wonderful group of people showed up to do The Work, rain pounding like it hardly ever does in Seattle.

The kind of rain where you can’t go from your door to the mailbox, you have to wait it out. Unless you don’t mind getting so wet, it’s like you were sprayed with a garden hose.

This meetup format I’ve been doing only a little bit now (this was the third time) is really interesting, and fun. People with every range of experience come to find out what The Work could be all about.

Like, what’s the fuss, anyway?

Because of talking with people regularly who are very new to The Work, I remembered my own journey with it more deeply last night.

And my resistance to it….but oddly fascinated at the same time.

It was a lot longer journey than you might think.

First, there was seeing the book Loving What Is in a bookstore and waiting until it came out in paperback.

Then, there was finally reading it.

Around that time, either during or after reading Loving What Is, there was the discovery that Byron Katie was coming to Seattle, my home town.

She would be in a huge hall downtown in the Seattle Center, for two full days, a Saturday and a Sunday.

I signed up.

I remember when I entered on Saturday morning, someone handed me a red rose. I didn’t go with anyone I knew. My usual approach to things. Just sign up and go on my own. I never wanted to talk to anyone else if it was something I was seriously contemplating or wanting to understand.

(Still like that a lot of the time).

I took a seat amidst a huge crowd, sort of towards the back left side, facing the stage in the distance. On every seat was a blank Judge Your Neighbor worksheet and one of those little pencils.

I stared at this worksheet.

What do I write about?

In some ways, there’s so much I’m upset with, in other ways, it’s just a few key terrible incidents and situations.

Where do I begin?

Katie said something about picking one person I was very upset with.

Visions of ME floated through my head. It was so hard, it seemed, to think of other people I felt upset with and actually write those secret, horrible thoughts down on paper.

Aren’t I trying to forget all about those thoughts?

Katie said to write about something terrible that happened, something difficult, an argument.

I wrote about an abortion I had, only a year previously. I considered it the most horrible thing I had ever gone through, the inner war, the sick stomach, the indecision, the self-hatred.

My hand was shaking as I wrote. I could only write one, short, crisp sentence for every question on the Judge Your Neighbor worksheet. I wrote almost the same thing, repeatedly.

(A few years later, I was writing first drafts of JYNs with an entire page for every question, which I then carefully combed through for understanding and clarity, and then wrote a “final” shorter JYN).

Then Katie said “turn to the person next to you and read your Judge Your Neighbor worksheet to them out loud”.

Wait. What??!

I came alone for a reason! I came alone on purpose! It’s called Not Talking To Anybody!

My head started getting hot.

I read the worksheet to a total stranger man who was about ten years younger than me. He nodded and was very accepting and kind. His worksheet was on his girlfriend.

But an hour later, my throat was hurting. I took ibuprofen. My ears were ringing. It felt like I was getting a fever.

I was.

I didn’t hear much more that day.

But I went back Sunday morning. With a fever of 103, with tylenol and ibuprofen coursing through my system. I did not want to miss the second day. I wanted to understand.

I could hardly speak.

Katie asked who would like to do The Work. There was no way in hell I would ever have raised my hand. Certainly not in that condition, with a fever and pounding ears.

And then a woman, far across the room, standing up so everyone could see her, holding a microphone (!) began to read her worksheet.

I am horrified with myself because I had an abortion. I want to un-do the entire thing. I shouldn’t have done it, I shouldn’t have gotten pregnant….

My back, arms and legs were shaky and my head and ears were burning, my body chilled. I held my head in my two hands, propping it up like it weighed 800 pounds.

I don’t even remember what the woman looked like, but I heard Katie facilitate her through one thought, as she stood and answered the four questions in front of all those people.

Then I got up, and left at the next break, and drove home.

It seemed like nothing happened for me on the inside, around “getting” what this was all about, about inquiring into one’s thinking.

All I could do was to go to bed and sleep until the next day.

But I didn’t realize that it was the beginning of an absolute transformation in my inner world, my perception of all of reality. It was the beginning of true forgiveness, of realizing that my thoughts and presence are not unique, or separate…and that I was innocent.

Out of all those people in that huge auditorium, that woman who stood up and read what she was most ashamed of was the very same as me.

Turned out, I didn’t have to raise my hand, finish the event, meet anyone, make any new friends, or even feel well.

I got what I needed, anyway.

“Eventually, realization is experienced automatically, as a way of life. Peace and joy naturally, inevitably, and irreversibly make their way into every corner of your mind, into every relationship and experience. The process is so subtle that you may not even have any conscious awareness of it. You may only know that you used to hurt and now you don’t.” ~ Byron Katie

It took a little more time before I actually spoke with anyone about questioning one’s thinking and doing The Work, and then more time before I went to The School.

That’s the way it went for me. One little step at a time.

Like the light getting turned up brighter, brighter, brighter. So slowly, I didn’t even realize it until one day, I looked around and was astonished.

And although I’ve shared this before…for some reason, it’s time to share it again.

Sit for four minutes with me, and listen (click the link right below). You can do it, even if it makes you feverish and sick. Questioning your beliefs can show you what is really true for you.

It’s good.

Click here: Leave Everything You Know Behind

Much Love,

Grace

Every Loss Has To Be A Gain

When a beloved furry pet dies, it can feel very sad.

Several people have written me lately about their animal friends dying, and feeling grief, depression, regret.

I haven’t had a pet as an adult…but I understand the welling up of tears and all the thoughts that start to churn that may turn out to feel stressful.

  • I miss him
  • I should have done more with her
  • If only I had known that was his last day
  • her life was too short
  • I could have done better

Funny how when something is “lost” and the life of that animal, or person even, is over….we sometimes want to reach back and grab for more.

More time, more cuddles, more conversations, more intimacy.

A dear inquirer who recently lost a little cat noticed thoughts of guilt entering her mind….

….if I had known she was going to die, I would have let her eat more food and enjoy more pleasures, not been so strict.

Let’s take a look at this difficult thought that can appear with loss of someone you love, whether a pet or a person.

I could have done better. 

Is that true?

Are you sure?

Because you only knew what you knew, in that previous moment. You know a little more now, here in this moment. What if you weren’t supposed to know it back then?

The mind may argue….“but I DID kind of know. I should have paid attention, I should have followed my intuition, I knew I could do better, I could have been more clear, honest, aware, trusting, astute, kind…”

Are you really sure you could have done better? Are you 100% positive that you should have known what you didn’t know, or decided what you didn’t decide?

Many years ago, I became pregnant, and after terrible agonizing, had an abortion.

When asked later in life what I believed to be the absolute worst thing I had ever done, the thing I felt most guilt about…..it was that.

I had never known prior to that experience what post-traumatic stress syndrome might be like. I was beside myself with grief and regret. I was sick for days. It stayed with me for a decade. I was shocked by my own dreadful thoughts towards myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about it for years.

One of the first Byron Katie events I ever went to, a woman stood up and said it out loud. She regretted having an abortion.

I still felt so much shame, I couldn’t believe this woman told the same story, publicly, holding a microphone!

But as Katie asked her to question her beliefs, to do The Work, something shifted inside about this thing called “regret”.

In the dictionary, regret is defined as the sorrow about the loss of opportunity.

Ah, there’s the rub.

The image of the future or past (which is actually false and does not exist) where opportunity lives, or used to live.

Now, not only is this life lost, but this imagined and vivid alternate opportunity. The one where the person or animal I care about is alive, or happy.

Over and over again, in the distant past, I imagined the birthdate, the gender, the life of this child that never was.

Deep torture.

Who would I be without that thought, that I could have done better?

“You can’t let go of a stressful thought, because you didn’t create it in the first place. A thought just appears. You’re not doing it. You can’t let go of what you have no control over. Once you’ve questioned the thought, you don’t let go of it, IT lets go of YOU. It no longer means what you thought it meant.” ~ Byron Katie

Imagine who you would be without the belief that you could have done better. Because it’s possible that what you’re thinking NOW is imagination, too.

Without that thought?

Freedom, acceptance for this self that is beyond knowing. Peace far, far past all the stuff I think.

A great feeling of everything being exceptionally well and very strange and mysterious.

I turn the thought around: I could not have done any better. I did the best I possibly could.  

How could that be truer?

I can find how that experience drew me into such suffering that the equal and opposite breaking-free became possible. I contemplated short lives, and noticed that every length of life you could ever imagine happens here on planet earth….from a few hours to over 100 years.

I don’t have three children to take care of, I can focus on two.

“Clinging creates the bricks and mortar with which we build a conceptual self.” ~ Michael Singer 

I gave that entity a gift of very little agonizing and suffering, and a return to a place without bodies…somewhere I’ll be again one day.

My life has been filled with so much, this life has not been empty because another life “left” it.

“Every loss has to be a gain, unless the loss is being judged by a confused mind….The simple truth of it is that what happens is the best thing that can happen.” ~ Byron Katie 

What is the gain, in your life?

Much love, Grace