Shed that pain

My November ezine put forward the thought that when we don't work through our painful experiences to transform that pain, we end up transmitting that pain to others. When our hurts and pain are buried deeply inside us, they still manage to seep out and affect our words and behavior toward others. Sometimes the pain does more than seep—it can explode.

Poet and author Mark Nepo puts it in a different way, but it's essentially the same thing. Here's what he says in his book Inside the Miracle: Enduring Suffering, Approaching Wholeness:

"As we struggle with all we carry, we discover that what is not ex-pressed is de-pressed. It seems the more we express, that is bring out what is in, the more alive we are. The more we give voice to our pain in living, the less buildup we have and so, our inner life fits our outer life more fully."

Nepo says, too, that expressing our pain isn't limited to verbal expressions but can also be done through movement, singing, drumming, dancing or even praying silently. It's simply getting out what is inside!

So shed that pain. Let go. Express it. Let it be transformed. But above all, don't hang onto it and don't shove it down—it won't stay down. Let it out and feel the huge weight fall off your shoulders. Fly free like the beautiful butterfly!

Embrace your changes

We know that change is a normal part of life. Without change, we'd never grow up. Change, evolution, transformation—call it what you will. It's essential. I love to think of the butterfly, which started life as a lowly caterpillar and wound itself into a dark cocoon, where it seemed to die. And then suddenly, all those same parts that formed that caterpillar changed into a beautiful butterfly. I love that image of transformation, which is why I've chosen it as the symbol of my Way2Grow Coaching practice.

French author Arnaud Desjardins, who wrote the book The Jump Into Life: Moving Beyond Fear, once said:

"Life is expressed in a perpetual sequence of changes. The birth of the child is the death of the baby, just as the birth of the adolescent is the death of the child."

On and on it goes. Perpetual change. Why then do we so fear change? It's a normal, yes a valued and essential, part of our lives. So let's embrace it and be grateful for new life and transformation. Be grateful we learn and grow. And let yourself soar like the beautiful butterfly that emerges from the cocoon!

Love is expansive

I have long been inspired by writings of Vietnamese Buddhist monk and peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh. So when I read this quote just now, it stopped me in my tracks:

"A real love letter is made of insight, understanding, and compassion. Otherwise it's not a love letter. A true love letter can produce a transformation in the other person, and therefore in the world. But before it produces a transformation in the other person, it has to produce a transformation within us. Some letters may take the whole of our lifetime to write."

Wow, that's a lot to digest. I want to spend more time reflecting on this idea.

Love is so much more than a warm, fuzzy feeling of the type we see on our TV screens or the big screen. Yes, it does include insight, understanding and compassion. It can lead to our transformation and that of the other person. Think of how someone's love and care for you can give you strength and courage to face life's challenges.

Love is so expansive. Unlike a pie that's confined in scope, love grows the more people we draw into its circle. Sometime, make a list of all the people who fall into that circle for you. Perhaps you have two or three people to whom you'd like to write a message telling how much they mean to you? Why wait? Do it now.

The real you

Who is the real you? We all wear masks. It's something we learned to do when we were quite young. We develop masks to protect ourselves. We fear that if people saw who we really were, we wouldn't be loved. Or perhaps we would be harmed if someone saw how weak or afraid we were—in which case, we may develop a stance of toughness that tells the world, "I dare you." So many reasons, so many masks.

By the time we reach middle age and beyond, we may have several masks, depending on whom we are around at any given time and what the situation is in which we find ourselves. Typically, however, by that stage of life, we're also beginning to realize that the masks meant to protect us are suffocating us, too. They are keeping us from being who we truly are. They keep us from being authentic. And authenticity becomes more important to us as we age.

What Muhammad Ali once said is true: "If you're the same person at fifty that you were at twenty, you've wasted thirty years."

Yes! The idea is to grow, to evolve, to let ourselves be transformed by life and its experiences. When we reach a more mature stage of life, we want to be as true to ourselves as we can be. Having said that, we will always hide behind some masks for safety. The hope is that those become fewer and lighter as we become stronger and more sure of ourselves.

What masks are you still wearing? Do you need them? Have you shed some of your masks? Do you feel that you're as authentic as you can be?

'Pain as propane'

On Wednesday, we talked about how we respond to difficulty, using a quote from Winston Churchill. After I wrote that blog, I read about a man who'd had a tough childhood and also as an adult, experienced several losses before finally getting his life together.

He didn't let his childhood or the losses stop him in his tracks, however. He didn't give up or get derailed. What he has done instead, he says, is to use "his pain as propane." That struck me as a great way to use adversity in our lives. That definitely doesn't mean we ignore the pain, difficulties and losses. No, we deal with them in appropriate ways—and then move on. We do not allow the painful situations of our lives to define us nor to be the last (or only) word.

Rather, we let the pain fuel and empower us. We let it spur us on to fulfilling our dreams and to becoming the people we want to be. That in turn often pushes us to empower others and help them transform pain, too.

Pain as propane—yes, pain and suffering can be transformative. In fact, I have heard many people say that it was through their cancer (or other serious illness) that they really came to learn many of their life lessons, create new dreams and appreciate life and loved ones.

Why do you do what you do?

You may be among those of us who have taken the Myers-Briggs personality test. I found that test somewhat helpful in understanding some of my behaviors, and I've taken it several times through the years—sometimes in work settings and other times in less formal settings.

However, there's another resource that, for my money, tells me far more about myself; and that's the Enneagram. The Enneagram sorts people into one of nine personality types but also includes side wings so offers more possibilities. In addition it shows what people are like at the unhealthy end of their type, in an average state and also at the healthiest end of the spectrum. Most books on the Enneagram offer lots of pointers to help you move from unhealthy to average to healthy. Personalities are seen as more fluid, and there's more possibility for growth and transformation, which is why I am so fond of it.

Many books are available, but there's also a quick online test you can take to give you some idea of what the Enneagram is like before you invest in a book. If you just want a quick-and-dirty idea of the Enneagram, here's an online test to try. If you're intrigued by what you learn here, look online for resource books. My favorite is The Wisdom of the Enneagram by Don Richard Riso and Russ Hudson.

About that cocoon...

The caterpillar-cocoon-butterfly transformation process is quite amazing. What seems like dying really is new life. But here's the deal: It wouldn't be new life if the butterfly didn't work its way out of the cocoon when the time is right.

We, too, have things in our lives that represent cocoons. And you simply cannot fly and be your best self if you don't leave the cocoon behind.

What's your cocoon? Are you stuck in a situation that you really should leave behind and from which you should fly away? It might be a job that is killing your spirit or a relationship that's dragging you down or doing you harm. It might be your own unhealthy behaviors, things that need changing. Or it could be old tapes and messages that hold you back and keep you stuck. It might be your negative attitudes about yourself or about life in general. It could even be losses that you haven't ever grieved that are piling up inside and constricting your heart.

There are so many things that can become a cocoon. It's good to check periodically and see whether you are stuck and need to break free. Now's a good time to do so! Let go, let go, let go.

'Ripe for transformation'

As you can tell from my website, I'm really big on transformation. There are so many pivotal moments in our lives that make us ready for transformation—real turning points.

So when I read in Mark Nepo's Seven Thousand Ways to Listen: Staying Close to What Is Sacred these words, I took notice: "... once we admit that we're not sure where life is taking us, then we are ripe for transformation. Then we are shapeable. When losing our way, we frequently retreat and withhold or take what we think is a safer path. This often complicates our confusion. An old woodsman told me that the reason most people get lost is because they don't go far enough. They doubt where they are and change direction too soon. Somehow we are called to lean forward by what little light we are given."

Have you ever felt somewhat lost or confused about where your life is going—or where it should go? I suspect we have all had some questions at some point in our life journey. The important thing is to just stay open. Look for clues. Listen to that voice inside—and to trusted friends and loved ones. Follow the light.

Stay open. And let yourself be ready for transformation, ready for direction, ready even for surprises! Who knows what's possible when you let yourself be OK with confusion and that feeling of being temporarily lost?

The discomfort of transformation

Do you ever find yourself in an uncomfortable place on the way to something new? You might be looking back over your life and feeling the weight of undone tasks or roads not taken. You might be living with regret. You may be looking ahead and wondering whether you're on the right path at all. There are so many reasons for us to sometimes experience that tough transition place, that desert between where we've been and where we'd like to go.

I often liken that to time in the cocoon when the caterpillar has given up its identity to transform into something new. Does the caterpillar know when it goes into a cocoon that it will emerge a beautiful butterfly able to fly rather than crawl along the ground? Doubtful. But somehow it trusts the process and does what it's programmed to do. And sure enough, a butterfly does emerge.

While we're not caterpillars, there are some similarities. There are many times in our life when we need to give up some of what we know to be part of our identity, go into a transition phase or a cocoon and let things settle out until we're ready to emerge transformed. The trickiest part for us as humans may well be to be OK with that in-between stage. Be OK with life in the cocoon for a while. For all of what you need for transformation is contained within you just as all the caterpillar needs for its transformation is contained within. Trust the process. Live with the discomfort.

If you would like to discuss this, I invite you to contact me for a complimentary strategy session.

'Move into yourself'

The symbol for my Way2Grow Coaching practice is the butterfly. I chose that because I love the idea of the transformation that happens when a caterpillar weaves itself into a cocoon from which it later emerges as a beautiful butterfly. This creature goes from crawling on the ground to soaring above the flowers and trees. Imagine that! And everything it needed to become a butterfly was really there inside.

So does the caterpillar cause these changes? Or is it simply following its nature, its design? And what does that say for our own transformational experiences? Perhaps what we need is all there inside, too.

Yesterday I read in Marion Woodman and Jill Mellick's book, Coming Home to Myself: Reflections for Nurturing a Woman's Body & Soul, this interesting thought: "Do not try to transform yourself. Move into yourself. Move into your human unsuccess. Perfection rapes the soul."

As always, it's about authenticity, isn't it? It's about just being who we are—not trying to be someone else or trying to be a perfect version of anyone (including ourselves). We just need to be ourselves, with all the good and the bad of that. Let go of perfectionism. Embrace authenticity. That journey alone will provide plenty of transformation!

'Can we all get along?'

It has become quite clear throughout this election season that we live in an extremely divided country—if it hadn't been abundantly clear prior to this. Perhaps it's understandable, given that we are a country of such diversity. However, I don't think it's necessarily a predictable outcome of such diversity. And, honestly, the divide does seem to have grown over these past few months.

I often return to Rodney King's question, "Can we all get along?" (Remember Rodney King, the African American taxi driver who was beaten by Los Angeles Police Department officers following a high-speed car chase in 1991?) No matter the circumstances of King's situation, the question remains a good one for us to raise again all these years later.

Can we all get along? Although we represent different races, cultures, creeds, genders, sexual orientations, viewpoints and more, isn't it possible that we can find common ground somehow through our common humanity? Isn't there more that unites us than that which divides us? Is transformation possible?

Where do we begin to make that happen? The only place we can begin is in our own heart. We start with ourselves—and move out to our families and friendship circles, then to those other groups to which we belong—and on out as far as we can reach with our connections. But it needs to begin with us. No finger-pointing. No blaming everyone else. I'm responsible. You're responsible. And, like the stone skipped into the water, the ripples will begin to spread outward further and further. Like peace-making, it must begin with us. We must be about building connections.

So ... where can I begin today to build common ground with someone? Where will you start? After all, it is up to us if we want to see our communities and society transformed.

Lobsters & stress

Did you know that we can learn something about stress from a lobster?

In a YouTube video, Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski shares how a lobster can teach us how to learn from adversity. It involves learning to live with discomfort!

When the soft inside part of a lobster grows, the outer shell does not grow. That remains rigid. So a lobster goes under a rock to stay safe from predators and there it sheds its rigid shell. What an uncomfortable and vulnerable thing to do—to let go of the shell that stands between it and predators! But after the lobster sheds its shell, it grows a new one. The process repeats as the lobster grows.

The lesson Twerski teases out for us is that times of stress can be the impetus for growth. If we can live with some discomfort, we can experience growth. Perhaps that means we don't always need to reach so rapidly for relief for our discomfort. Lean into it a while and see what lessons are there.

For me, the lesson also involves learning to be vulnerable (losing some of my protective coating). Through that vulnerability can come huge transformational advances—real growth.

Who ever thought a lobster could teach us something? Next time you experience the uncomfortability of stress, picture the lobster going under a rock and facing the stress of life without its shell so that it can grow a new one. And take heart!

Let yourself be still

It's really tough to be still these days, isn't it? Both still on the outside—and also on the inside. Even if you get yourself to actually sit and do nothing (and how often does that even happen?), your mind is probably still racing in several directions. I know my mind does that. It's often called "monkey mind" because it jumps from one thing to another just as monkeys leap from one tree to another.

However, in this crazy-busy world that can often cause our stress levels to go off the charts, it's important to occasionally (and I would even say, regularly) do nothing—to observe sabbath or quiet time. It's healthy and transformative to put down our phones, devices and, yes, even our books. Just sit and try to quiet your mind. When thoughts come, just notice them running across your mind as though an airplane with a banner message were flying by. Let it come. Let it go. If you practice this for enough days and don't give up, soon you'll be able to go still at least for a time. And you'll be able to extend that time gradually.

Don't start with high expectations. Even if you sit for 3-5 minutes at first, that will probably seem like 20 or 30! Just be forgiving with yourself and don't give up. See if stillness and sabbath-time don't make you feel better—healthier, more creative, more compassionate, loving and forgiving. We all need to create some space in our lives where all the world's and our own cares don't crowd in and threaten to drown us. This helps us to stay centered and grounded.

Cocoons are messy

Change is messy. It can be painful. It doesn't matter whether it's a huge change or something smaller. It's not easy. Sometimes we get there through a decision we've made. Other times, change is thrust upon us. It can be frightening either way. We experience all the shifts in the way things were.

Then there's that transition period. That's really messy. It's like the caterpillar inside the cocoon—in the process of becoming a beautiful butterfly. The inside of the cocoon is a soupy mess of the caterpillar broken down. No shape. Messy. Scary. That's OK. It's a necessary part of the transformation. If you're in a transition phase, just be with the discomfort and the anxiety. It won't last forever.

Soon, you'll be that beautiful butterfly, soaring above the flowers—and on to the next stage of your life!

If you'd like to discuss this at all, I invite you to contact me.

Feel the hurt, don't stuff it

The painful experiences of our lives, if examined and processed, can become the fodder for much of our growth and transformation. If we just stuff them down and tuck them away, however, we never get the opportunity to experience the lessons that likely are embedded within the experiences.

As Sherry Ruth Anderson and Patricia Hopkins say in their book The Feminine Face of God, "If we lock away the fearful, painful experiences of our lives—the death of a loved one, a betrayal, or a passion that is not approved by society—we cut them off from their natural cycling. They are not washed by our tears. They are not exposed to the warmth of our heart or the light of our consciousness. And so these old emotions and memories can not break down to become sources of new life."

That says it all. I really don't need to expand on that. Don't be afraid to feel the hurt and pain, examine it and work with it until it can be transformed into some type of new life for you.

It's OK to not know

In conversation with someone recently, we discussed that point at which we aren't sure what's ahead for us and don't even always know the questions to ask in our discernment time. It's an uncomfortable time, a time of not-knowing. Sometimes it's a time of paradox, of holding two different things to be true at once. But it's such an important and fruitful time.

I like what poet and author Mark Nepo says in his book Seven Thousand Ways to Listen: "It seems our capacity to withstand the tension of opposites is key to entering paradox, and key to that is becoming comfortable with the space of not-knowing. Understandably, most of us are uncomfortable when things are undefined, when things are not clearly to or fro, up or down, left or right, or right or wrong. But the deeper truths always take time to reach us, and it is our job to enter a practice of waiting openly—which involves enduring the tensions of not-knowing. This requires a crucial, ongoing effort not to prematurely name or define what we encounter in life."

Wait. It's OK to just be. To enter into the not-knowing phase. Take your time. Transformation doesn't happen overnight. Think of the caterpillar-cocoon-butterfly process. It can't be rushed. Soon you, too, will be ready to soar!

Coaching just might be the boost you need

Are you feeling stuck these days? Just not feeling that zest for life you either once had or that you thought you'd find at this stage of life? Wanting to discover what's next on your journey? Feeling uncertain about something?

You definitely don't have to stay in that place. Many possibilities exist to help you find your way out of that rut.

Lately, I've felt a little of that myself. So I've signed myself up for some webinars and courses from inspirational speakers. I needed a little boost of energy and some new thoughts to refuel my journey. If I need more than those things, I'll get more sessions from a life coach. I've done that before, and it's helped me.

If you're in that place—or if you have a friend who is—I invite you to contact me (or have her contact me) to explore options. I'm happy to offer a free coaching strategy session of anywhere from 30 to 45 minutes. Not only will this give you some ideas to explore but it might help you see whether coaching is something that would be helpful for you.

Take that first step. See what discoveries and transformation might be ahead for you in 2016.

From the old to the new

As you think about the New Year approaching, do you make resolutions, set intentions or think about what you want it to look like? Do you reflect on the year about to end to see what learnings have come for you from the experiences you had?

I hope you take some time to celebrate what you've learned—the transformation you've seen in yourself—any growth that has occurred. Take time, too, to feel the sadness and pain of any losses that occurred throughout the year.

It's always good to start the New Year with a clean slate. Start with a heart that's open and free. Deal with the emotions that might have accumulated before they become so oversized that they hit you between the eyes or temporarily knock you flat. Emotions that we push down and don't let ourselves feel have a way of packing a bigger punch than they would if we faced them squarely at the time we first feel them.

I encourage you to take some time now at year's end to reflect—and prepare yourself for the New Year. For a good New Year!

Fertilizer & flowers

My former husband and I used to grow hybrid tea roses. They were simply beautiful. One of the secrets to lovely roses, we discovered, was fertilizing with aged cow manure. It seemed to make the plant hardy, and the flowers were large and long-lasting once cut.

I have often thought about how like those roses our lives are. We can take the challenging, painful and difficult parts of our lives—what we call the crap, the manure—and let that become the fertilizer that helps us grow in ways we might not have imagined.

Does that mean that when bad things happen to us, we immediately give thanks for it and start looking for ways it can be used in our lives? Probably not. We have to be real about what's happening and find ways to deal with it. And it's OK to do our share of grumbling, crying and being depressed about it. At some point, however, once we've actually gotten through it, it will be easier to see what lessons the whole experience might contain for us. How have we grown through that difficult experience? What transformation have we experienced?

Look for the fertilizer. Know that it can help you grow and bloom. Know that without fertilizer, we wouldn't have the lovely flowers we so enjoy.

Life amid death

Thirteenth-century Persian poet Rumi once said, "Don't grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form."

I don't take that to mean that we shouldn't face our grief and walk through it. When a loved one dies, when we lose ability because of chronic illness, when tragedy strikes, it's important to be real about what's happened and how we feel about it. It's important to grieve. I believe that's necessary before we can let go and move on (and by that I don't mean forgetting what we've lost).

What I take from Rumi's quote is that death is part of life, joy and sadness are often wound together, and life's "fertilizer" is capable of producing beautiful blooms. Death and loss don't have to have the last word. Transformation and new life are possible.

Even now in fall, when most of us focus on things that are dying, seeds are falling to the earth and in spring, they'll bring forth new life.

When I lost my job in 2009, I didn't imagine that it would lead me to another satisfying career—one that really fits where I am now in life. Many people who have suffered through cancer and treatments have said that it deepened and enriched their lives—and that they actually are grateful for all of it. I wouldn't presume to say this is true for every loss and for every person. You are the only one who can make such judgments about your life experience. But I will say that this quote is worthy of deep reflection.