‘You’re going to look older,’ was the response. I had just shared a decision pondered for years, but had made seconds earlier as I announced to Teri (the wonderful woman who takes care of my hair) that ‘it’s time, it’s time to go to my natural color.’ We had been talking about this for 3 years. Up until that moment, I lacked the self-confidence to move in this direction. (Disclaimer: This is all about me and there’s no judgment about people coloring their hair or not.)

The past 2+ weeks have been challenging. I’ve felt full of shadows and darkness, I have been edgy and just generally feeling off. It’s a way of being that does not land easily; I resist. Kind of like spring cleaning, which I also resist.

Yet the art of spring cleaning has an allure. There is a crisp sense of a space deeply cleaned, it feels more open and welcoming. It’s not necessarily something tangible. The sorting through, letting go, and moving things around creates welcoming. As have these past two weeks of spiritual cobweb cleaning.

It was a Monday. An unusually down kind of Monday. Life just wasn’t working according to my plan; I was full of doubt. Especially doubt about my value and the services that I offered. This is really unusual for me and was a convergence of many things, fueled by the stories I was telling myself and somewhat believing. It had been a slow month. My computer was in meltdown mode and so was my ego. During a walk with my daughter, I realized after how non-present I was. As I sat in all of this, stewing a bit, it became abundantly clear I was not being present with myself.

We all have tendencies to want to step in and fix someone, something, or the situation. Often this comes from a place of heartfelt love, wanting to support and ease the suffering of another. Equally often, might be the tendency to avoid discomfort? Uncomfortable situations can invite more of a tendency to want to fix. When I follow this tendency, it inevitably gets muddy and the clarity of the situation becomes tied to whether the person listened to my suggestion. It can so easily shift from wanting to help, to wanting to be the person with the solution.

Perhaps when we are born there are pieces of our life puzzle scattered throughout this time bound way we live as humans. Perhaps there is a finite number of puzzle pieces, each specific and unique, made just for each of us. Perhaps when that final piece falls into place our work here on this human plane is completed. Perhaps that’s how it works.

At first I didn’t feel it. It was so light - as not even the softest of an air wisp. Then I felt it again. The wisp of eyelashes coming in contact with my chest as they opened and closed. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this feeling before. I let it be luxuriated in.

This was yet another incredible gift on top of a day spent practicing presence at the invitation of a not-quite-two-year-old. Again and again he would pause, glance at me to see if I was attending to him and then runoff. It became our little game. The soft plans to clean up the garage became distant; I released them readily, delighting in the unspoken invitation to play. Plans readily released to this most important little person.

During a prior blog post, I shared about service received and my expectations getting in the way of being present. This is also about service and with a different outcome.

I was standing in line at a store to return an item ordered online. The person helping me was unable to process the carefully captured screenshot prior to going to the store. The manager could not seem to figure it out either, so they resorted to calling their .com helpline - the same helpline that you and I call. It’s pre-holiday time, a Saturday, and wait times on the phone go on and on as it is. I suggest I go do my shopping and come back. I do, and when I return she is still on hold.

About three years ago, sitting in church, I received an invitation to consider a small way I can make a difference weekly. I listened and somehow knew this was important. What came to my mind was to be more consistent and diligent in visiting my mother-in-law, who I referred to as ‘Little Mim’ for she was below 5’ weighing in at 95 lbs. But don’t ever let her diminutive appearance fool you, for she was able to stand her ground fully.

I prepare for class experiences in various ways. This time I chose to pull a card out of the Chakra (major energy centers in our body) deck. Up pops the heart, and specifically forgiveness.

I read the reading that accompanied the card and began to ponder, who did I need to forgive? How was I wanting something to be different so much that in a way this desire was planting seeds of resentment? After just a few breaths - it felt like bolt struck me. I needed to forgive my dear husband for being who he is. This was not because he had done anything directly malicious towards me! It was really about me and not him - I needed to forgive myself for all the times I have wanted him to be something other than he is, and how this was creating a barrier in how I showed up for, with, and towards him. It was a powerful realization. It is an ongoing process to witness all the ways I want people to be different than they are, including me, and my husband.

I was not on a tight timeline as I found myself waiting to check in for a service. My expectations were that this check in would be its typical smooth journey. Just like all the prior visits it was usually just a couple minutes to pay, schedule and move into the service. Then, bam, I was reminded how expectations are resentments waiting to happen. The check in process took longer, way longer. I noticed someone was taken care of before me – or that is the story I told myself. My sense of injustice began to rise to the surface. I was irritated. It showed in a way that was less loving and kind than I would’ve liked. Then I was invited to observe how my sense of acceptable behavior was now being internally judged as yet another expectation. Sounds like a cycle, right?  Perhaps one that you might recognize? We set standards for ourselves and when these are not met, it shows externally and we also ruminate on this internally. 

For much of the month of October I have been releasing in one way or the other. Part of this includes noticing thought patterns that are judgmental of myself, and others that no longer serve me.

A more tangible aspect has been sorting through and consciously releasing decades-long accumulations of memories that have been stored in our garage, and mostly left untouched for the past decade. Sometimes it is hard to let go of the representation of the memories, and yet I have this deep conviction that they must be released in order for me to open up to all that is before me at this time, that being offered for me to open up to all that is before me at this part of my human journey. So, for much of the month of October I have been releasing.

Being raised on a farm there were always open spaces, and the sight of Monarch butterflies flittering on the land, often in pairs, was part of my childhood. I moved away and observed fewer of these majestic butterflies each time I returned. About 8-9 years ago I convinced my Dad to plant milkweeds to provide Monarch caterpillars what they need to live. You see, milkweeds are the only plant a Monarch caterpillar will eat.