The million-dollar garbage can

 

These past couple of weeks have offered up a fair share of upheaval in my life.  To wit, a couple of uncomfortable not-quite-knowing-what’s-going-on days with The Robert, a difficult career-related meeting, and a very challenging facilitating session – basically, mayhem.  Here’s a brief synopsis … bear with me, a theme does emerge!

The Robert and I had a conversation during which I pushed his buttons without realizing it, and his response to that was to withdraw.  The temperature of his usually warm emails plunged to a distinctly cool reading.  My experience of that is that I’ve done something wrong, and I’m incapable or incompetent when it comes to relationship.

Then, in a meeting where huge decisions needed to be made about the direction of our business, the only comment that I heard was that I hadn’t been able to work sufficiently well with our local district to have a garbage can moved from one corner of the street to the other.  Again, I heard strains of “You’re No Good” coursing through my brain.

Fast forward.  That evening.  I am to facilitate a group session in which we must come to a couple of decisions that affect a larger group.  I wasn’t able to corral the troops or report back that we had succeeded.  Again.  Abject failure.

Wow.  What the heck was going on?  I mean, all of this was so loud I had to sit up and pay attention.  And then it hit me.  It was like waking up after you’ve fallen asleep at the wheel. You are in motion and you need to get back on the right-hand side of the road to refresh your trajectory.  I was unconscious to the fact that I was letting my cracked identity lead the way.  Wherever the notion of incompetence, not good enough, or stupidity pointed, I followed.  It was in the driver’s seat.  I was hell-bent down the path of self-invalidation.  And not for the first time.

This time was different though.  I woke up in time to “keep ’er twixt the ditches”.  What was even louder than all this was a profound sense that I could experience this differently.  I could let in other information – such as the summons from the House of Parliament in Ottawa to be at a press conference in West Vancouver first thing the next morning.  (It turned out to be a long-waited-for announcement of over a million dollars being invested in our village to allow greater traffic to all of our businesses.  And I had played a role over the past few years in helping to make that happen.)  And the group facilitation was as much a crucible for learning as it was a necessary decision-making piece.  And The Robert – well aren’t relationships about finding out about what buttons are still hot ones?  And can’t we learn and heal those pieces through discomfort?  I believe we can.

So after a very challenging and emotional week, I am choosing to resonate more deeply with the truth – and believe that I am not incompetent or stupid. My intent is to make good use of that garbage can.

Authentically yours,

Buns

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=haZPPBJC8Ic

Musings on Spas, New Men and Horses

Ohhhh Buns. Not only am I thrilled that you are "Leaving On a Jet Plane" ... yes I am still singing that song ... I LOVE this piece around experiencing JOY directly.

Could we be any more alike, you and I? I too have noticed that much of my joy comes from going through what is in front of me, my challenges, my pain, my contraction or as you call it, flinching.

I am proud that I have learned to use whatever is presenting itself in me as a road or map to joy AND maybe you are right ... it's time for a more direct route ... a super highway... an autobahn ... new wiring that comes directly from what is good and translates into JOY.

I certainly have had those moments too and not necessarily big moments. Once while taking out the garbage I felt something deep inside light me up. "What is that?", I wondered, since nothing was happening to warrant such a huge sensation in me.

JOY... like a fountain overflowing with magenta and rising up in me FOR NO PARTICULAR REASON. The more I allowed and invited the experience ... without content or explanation simply by breathing into it, the more I felt it.

That's what I want -- to unhook from events and even people and be my own inner fountain of cascading essence, extending Myself to the world. It's a powerful place.

I can choose to extend joy, love, unconditional positive regard no matter what is happening outside of me. As a matter of fact, extending that feeling when what I perceive is challenging is exactly when I teach myself and the world the truth about who I am.

I may be having a human experience that includes fear, sadness, disappointment -- the whole spectrum of feelings -- AND I can be connected to my core essence at the same time. What I choose to share is a choice that not only impacts my experience but ripples out to others as well. It's important to me to not negate the human variables, our shadow sides and layers as personalities but rather to express them with the understanding that I am NOT those feelings or thoughts.

That is really one of my favorite anchors, I have my feelings I AM NOT MY FEELINGS.

I have my thoughts, I AM NOT MY THOUGHTS.

Yet this leaves one called to answer the ultimate existential question.  "Who Am I? Who am I beyond my roles and personality?" It's a good question to answer.... oui?

And on a more sensual note, I wanted to share with you my day at the spa, a Moroccan Hammam called Miraj here in Vancouver. So divine and a perfect way to share intimate space.

I wrote (oh shoot, what am I going to call this new man ... I am sure I will be referring to him in the future and since we are keeping names out of the mix ... hmmm ... ok, got it ... inspired by Mr. Big from Sex and the City... I will call him Chicago ...)

So I wrote to Chicago about the spa and bravely sent a really bad, post- massage, bed head, in a spa robe, no makeup picture ... don't forget I am sending this to a man I haven't met yet (he comes to visit in a few weeks) and here is how I described the experience at the Hamman.

http://www.mirajhammam.com/

After the steam bath and the scrub with Moroccan black soap and eucalyptus essencial oil ...

After the deep massage where I surrendered all tension and thought, even of you my sweet ...

We rested on iridescent satin pillows reclining in the darkening twilight ... orange, turquoise, celadon, green ... lounging on the divan ... sipping mint tea ...

Dark chocolate melted in my mouth and Clementines burst with fragrant flavor scenting the air and remaining on my fingers after each succulent juicy section.

Sepia light entered through wrought iron bars over the arched windows casting patterns of delicate intricacies, swirls of eastern flowers changing shape on the rich clay walls ...

It was so wonderful to reconnect with my "sisters" and my friend, my once upon a time, mother in law. We cried, we laughed, we were silly and giggling girls ... all of us ... from 40 years to 83 years ... girls at heart.

I shared about you and how impressive I have found you. I told them you said hi.

Yes Chicago, I am breaking my own rule and including you in my life even though I haven't met you yet. And the cliche is, it feels like I have known you for ages. And it feels like you are teaching me something important around what it means to be a man of integrity.

Ha! Back to that trust piece around men again.

I told him to approach me as you would a skittish colt. He said I'm a city boy. I don't know anything about horses. Then he Googled it. He may or may not even bring some apples to the airport when we first meet. Dear Chicago, you are adorable! Don't bring apples. I won't bite since it would ruin my lipstick.

And so my dear Buns as I sign off, I think of you as your excitement keeps growing in anticipation of your connection once again with The Robert.

Bon chance mon ami. I know no matter what happens it will be real and you will shine, cause that's just who you are.