Sunday, June 24, 2012

The Journey in Color

I am doing this very cool process where you enter the body, feel whatever is predominant and then just drop through to the next layer. This kind of work, is not new to me but the current attitude I am approaching it with, is. Rather than mining the feeling as it arises complete with story, ( which in the past I found helped me intensify the feeling) this time I just allow it, name it, notice where it lives in my body and drop through to what is underneath.

 My ego doesn’t like that. It wants to hang out so I can explore all the details. The thing is, without the story the process is so quick. It can be done anywhere, anytime in a matter of minutes.

This kind of exploration always brings awareness that the conscious mind could not have come up with. For instance a few days ago I found a very unfamiliar feeling in my body… jealousy. I have a history of female friends being jealous of me and while professing mad love, then betray me but I haven’t often felt it myself, in myself. This was exciting!

The jealous feeling occurred when I caught myself comparing and deemed lacking. Rather than milk the story, meaning focus on the content of the present, I instead felt the feeling, named it, and sensed where it lived in my body …and then dropped through. Underneath was sadness…then the next layer, confusion…then loss.

Suddenly a picture appears of being four years old. I was like a little doll that would get dressed up with matching outfits that my mother would create. Innovative, unusual and fashion forward, we were a pair until the day when my mom took me to a barber and my lovely locks got chopped. I ended up with a dreadful boys bowl cut and I felt ugly.

I compared myself to my beautiful mother and internalized a belief about my own worth that was just not true. That belief, just as all our beliefs then gets stored in our cellular memory and while one may recall snippets of childhood actually resurrecting the feeling state when the incorrect belief was stored in the cells, is imperative if you want to change it.

 I know this may sound like a little thing but what is amazing is that the process is the same whether you are uncovering a belief stored in the memory of a trauma or something as innocuous as a haircut.

People will often decide logically that a belief about themselves is not true and think that is enough and yet until we journey back to the event and its inherent feelings we do not actually change anything, only learn to over ride it. Overriding takes a lot of energy and frankly I would rather a few minutes of authentic feeling no matter how messy than a lifetime of repressing a belief that no longer serves me.

More free time for disco parties…yes disco! I just got back from an 8 year olds bash complete with laser show and afro wigs and headbands. Playing is ever so much fun!

Branded by the journey,

Authentically Yours,


Sunday, June 17, 2012

The empty head and the open mind.

Wow. This has been an exciting couple of weeks!  And I was very much anticipating writing my post this morning to tell you all that has been happening.  I had a gazillion wonderful things to talk about, lots of witty little bon mots, great ideas for pictures, and zap!  I woke up this morning and it felt like my hard drive had been erased.  Blank.  Gone.  Nada.

So what’s going on?  I am in the middle of a wonderful little book, Shift Happens, by Dr. Robert Holden.  It is full of “essential lessons and practices from the world’s leading coaching program on authentic success”.  Of course, that’s right up my alley, anything that fits into the self-improvement genre usually grabs my attention – especially if it has been recommended by a friend.  I got to a chapter that quite blew my mind.  It said self improvement was not the same as self acceptance.  And yes, I know, it seems like a no-brainer (pun intended) but seriously, I had never distinguished between those two before.  For years I have been intensely interested in self-improvement, thinking that upon “graduating”, I would receive my diploma in self acceptance.   Wrong.  I am smack-dab in the middle of realizing that self acceptance is not something you work towards, or do.   It is something you have.  A state of being.  A direct connection with your higher Self where acceptance isn’t even a question.  I am gobsmacked.  I’m reeling from this perspective.  Oh, the possibilities of ease! The freedom from self-recrimination! What!  You mean I can actually just have a relationship with moi that is wholesome, gentle, loving, where I’ve got my own back?  Where I am my biggest cheerleader?  OMG.

Yes. OMG. OMFG! If I can have this, then of course I can have a relationship with another person with the same adjectives.  And as the Universe would have it, I found myself in a “relationship” class with my meditation group yesterday.  (I really did not want to go but knew that my “not wanting” was a signal that I needed to attend the class.)  My history with these grad classes is that whenever the topic was on relationship, I wouldn’t sign up.  I didn’t want to find out what I was doing wrong.  I had pretty much closed the door on opening up my heart (and life) to the possibility of being with anyone again.  I decided it was best for me to just get bloody used to the idea that I would die alone and be okay with that.  I was quite happy to repress any thoughts about wanting to be with someone. But all that came crumbling down yesterday in our class. Throughout the day, the exercises and meditations led me to a dénouement of sorts, where I came into contact with my deep desire to be with someone.  It brought me to tears.  It awakened a sweet yearning that I knew was true.  So I’m spending some time here getting used to me.  The real me.

I think what happened when I sat down to write this morning is that I was shifting.  From reverse, to neutral, and now as I am talking to you, into first gear at least.

Yep.  Shift happens.

Branded by the open road (and an open mind),

Buns xo

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Things That Go Mmmm In The Night

Better joy in a cottage than sorrow in a palace. This was the descriptor under a cocktail called English Cottage which was a potent blend of fresh mint, gin, rhubarb and soda on crushed ice.
Buns, the little mischief maker, co- adventurer in creativity and fabulous fierce friend on this long distance triathlon of life was having a birthday. Gastown in Vancouver has become a haven of tantalizing food spots as well as a mecca of mixologists who take the creation of cocktails to an art form. What better way to celebrate the vixen.
·        We headed to Blood Alley excited to indulge at Boneta, our first time at the new location.
·        BONETA LOVES YOU will give you all the info you need.
We shared everything, as is our nature and started with English pea soup with seared scallops and lemon crème fraiche. Pure heaven even without the simple freshly baked bread that we inhaled before our soup got to the table. Then carpaccio with arugula, quail eggs and shaved parmesan followed by smooth melt in your mouth Gnocchi. We had decided to order a la carte instead of the 3 course set menu and enjoyed every mouthful.
My only complaint really was the after dinner latte. Part of a good latte is the container it comes in and their cups were so tiny you couldn’t put your finger through the handle. Not sexy! Give me a bowl any day.
 And then the noise. Will anyone ever design a restaurant in Vancouver where you can have an intimate conversation?
The buzz is great if people watching is one of your extracurricular activities but not so fine for actually hearing. Maybe you have enough Heidi in you that you don’t mind yodeling across the table but it's not my thing. I prefer perfecting the sultry purrs that the human voice is capable of.  

 Mmmm…look over there; I think I am crushing a little.   
Crushing... table behind you... to the left.
WHAT did you say? Cushion? You want a cushion?

It was not easy to get deep, but we managed.  
We talked about the current dismantling we are both experiencing in our lives. Buns has had such physical upheavals and mine have been identity and emotion based.
I am dissolving an identity that I rather liked, a woman keen to understand human nature, my own and others and passionate about extending support to those who want expansion in their lives. As I let go of the need to know and invite acceptance of what is, even if I don’t understand it… I seem to be softening…mellowing…breathing ,like an uncorked red. I sincerely hope it will still be robust and full bodied when ready to drink.
At times it’s so odd that I am left with a feeling of space in my solar plexus. "Fill it with your essence," says Buns, easy peasy…just do it now.   And I do, although with all the food it’s hard to tell if it’s true essence or the Foole Tart with poached rhubarb and vanilla ice cream.
And while I enjoyed a splendid evening there was a kind of gentleness to it that felt different than my usual experience of high intensity interactions where pushing the envelope in many directions feels like sparking an internal flame. It's like I am on a train and it has a direction, I am on it, just not in charge of it...not in control of it.
And I let go of the idea that my spark is somehow dampened and instead trust that in this time of transition I simply have not been shown yet the way my essence wants to translate itself out into the world.  In this moment it is calling for surrender and relaxation. After all Chill Marty sounds like a lovely lounge to have a connected calm conversation in. And fires can soothe and warm as well as ignite and roar.
Here’s to allowing what will be to be and to remembering that freedom from construct is a liberating experience.

Branded by falling apart and softening.
Authentically Yours,