Following Your Fault-Lines Home

Flipping through an old journal, I came across a passage I copied down from the book Cave: Nature and Culture:

W. H. Auden, who so loved the karst shires of the Northern Pennines, adored limestone. What most moved him about it was the way it eroded. Limestone’s solubility in water means that any fault-lines in the original rock get slowly deepened by a process of soft liquid wear. In this way, the form into which the limestone grows over time is determined first by its flaws. For Auden, this was a human as well as a geological quality: he found in limestone an honesty—an acknowledgment that we are as defined by our faults as by our substance.

In my own personal work, I have seen a gradual transition, mapped in the pages of my journals, from trying to eradicate my perceived faults to learning how to simply be present with them and to see what they have to teach me. And in my clients, the most striking transformations I have been lucky enough to witness have taken place, not as a result of further self-denial and hard-handed discipline, but from a compassionate acceptance of self.

It seems that the main challenge to self-acceptance is the fear that if we accept these “awful” things about ourselves, they’ll run rampant and ruin our lives.

The ego believes that our rejection of these faults is the only thing keeping us from destruction; it’s the dam holding the waters at bay. And all the while, we search and search for a feeling of wholeness, yet, as long as we continue to reject aspects of ourselves, this wholeness eludes us. It is only when we accept ourselves, fully–wholly–that we can feel whole. So, rather than serving as gateways to our destruction, these faults are our ticket home, our return to a state of wholeness.

There’s another interesting facet to these “faults.” I have found that, hidden in their core, these faults contain my greatest gifts, unique creations wrought by my history, my individual fault-lines, and erosion patterns worn by the waters of my life (water being symbolic of emotions and the unconscious realms). These ingredients interact to shape the gifts that I, and I alone, have to offer.

So, too, your gifts are a unique alchemical mix of your fault-lines and their interaction with life. When we accept these faults, they teach us. They teach us about our weaknesses, yes, and this can trigger feelings of vulnerability and shame, but they also teach us of our greatest strengths. If we can be present with the uncomfortable emotions that arise when we witness our fault-lines, we can penetrate the veil, beyond which lies our hidden gifts.

And as Auden intuited, “we are as defined by our faults as by our substance,” so even if we choose to shun these qualities, they shape us nonetheless, but in this shunning we lose the precious gifts they contain. Far better to embrace these fault-lines, weathering the discomfort (and it will pass; it always does), so we can reclaim the gifts they bring.

And if you are feeling adrift, unsure as to what your soul is being called to do, tracing your inner fault-lines will lead you back to your purpose. Remember, these lines are unique to you and you alone, and they contain gifts that require activation in order to fulfill your soul’s purpose. Like a spiritual scavenger hunt, the more of these gifts you assemble, the more their purpose will be come clear. If, metaphorically speaking, you unearth a whisk, a book of pastry recipes, and a bag of flour, perhaps yours is the path of a baker.

My path has led me from being painfully shy (as a child, I cried when people–my own family–gathered around to watch me open birthday presents, and later in life, I agonized over quitting jobs that required me to stand up in front of even the smallest of groups), to sitting with the extreme discomfort that arose in these situations, to eventually uncovering a powerful desire to teach, to speak, and to lead. What clues and gifts do your discomforts contain?

Follow your fault-lines. They will lead you home to yourself and to the wholeness and purpose that awaits.

Why We Must Burn Away Our Fear

On the last New Moon (July 23), I performed a ritual to prepare myself for what is known as a Black Moon Cycle. A Black Moon occurs when two New Moons fall within the same solar month; the second of the two moons is known as a Black Moon. While New Moons in general are a potent time for setting intentions and starting new endeavors, a Black Moon ushers in a period of momentous change, which lasts until the next Black Moon (July 31, 2019). This period is marked by major transformations, transformations that can alter the very course of our lives.

My guides led me on a meditation during my Black Moon ritual, and in this meditation, I visited each of the twelve astrological houses to receive guidance relevant to each house. If you’re unfamiliar with astrological houses, you can think of them as different areas of your life. The first house, for example, is related to our sense of self, our identity. It’s very connected to our survival instinct, and often, many of the actions of the first house are instinctive and automatic unless we’ve done work to make these patterns more conscious.

And it is in this first house that I received a message related to fear and its effects, not only during this life but beyond.

When I entered the first house, I found myself in my grandparents’ house, where I lived for the first few years of my life. Traveling through the rooms, I encountered different family members, each engaged in activities ranging from curious to disturbing, and each with important messages. But it was in the living room where I met one of my ancestors, and I began to cry when I saw that his skin and hair were smoking and glowing, like the embers of a fire.

“What is happening to you?” It was almost unbearable to see him this way, and he replied, “Burn away in life what does not serve or you will burn in death.”

We only had what seemed like brief moments to talk before he disappeared, but he explained that this burning is not a punishment, it is merely a necessary freeing of the soul from the baggage accumulated in life. He said, “In life, we use fear as an excuse to accumulate ‘protective’ baggage, from actual, physical things to rigid beliefs and patterns of being. This all must be burned away if our souls are to return to their original state after death.”

He explained that this is where our images of hell come from–this burning away, this purging of all that does not serve, the things we could have released in life but chose to cling to instead. Again, this burning isn’t done as punishment–it’s a necessary release of dead weight, but it is far better to willingly choose to release these things here, now, in life, so that our journey into death can be one of joy and peace.

Trial By Fire

How do we, as my ancestor described, “burn away in life what does not serve”? This advice reminds me of the alchemical step of calcination, the burning away of ego “detritus” that is preventing us from seeing ourselves and everything and everyone around us as Divine. A powerful way to engage the process of calcination is an exercise that I like to call Trial By Fire.

Trial By Fire can be performed anytime you are struggling with fear in its many forms: limited or rigid beliefs, procrastination, “over analysis paralysis” (aka, getting stuck in endless thinking and never doing), perfectionism, negative self-talk, shame, harmful competition and comparison, harsh judgement of self and others, and the list goes on.

While the antidote is simple, it’s not always easy: To perform Trial By Fire, you take action. End of story. When you’re afraid of teaching that workshop, you do it anyway. When you’re afraid of publishing that blog post because perfectionism would have you tweaking it from now until the end of time, you do it anyway. When you’re afraid to apply for that job because limited beliefs are convincing you that it can’t possibly work out, you do it anyway.

Take action. We burn away fear by dragging it into the light of reality, by putting fear’s loud theories to the test. Did we actually die as a result of giving that workshop? Did the internet explode because we published that imperfect post? Did our lives self-destruct because we applied for that job? Nope, nope, and nope.

Fear’s power lies in its ability to prevent us from taking action. It keeps us stuck in our heads, thinking that we’re somehow safe by not doing anything. But all this time, we’re accumulating layer upon layer of “protective” baggage; our souls are getting heavier and heavier each time we allow fear to dictate our choices.

Fear sounds awfully convincing, but it’s nothing more than a slick marketing campaign, designed to keep you numbed out and mindlessly consuming something–anything–to distract yourself from fear’s dire predictions.

To lighten your load, willingly choose to burn away the things that no longer serve you. Acknowledge your fear, and do it anyway. Stop waiting for some imagined “perfect” opportunity. Embrace what’s in the here and now; be willing to sacrifice the perfect fantasy and challenge the fear-based thoughts.

Put them to the test.

Subject them to a Trial By Fire.

What action can you take today?


Until August 17, 2017, I am offering a special Black Moon Session at my healing practice in Columbia, MO. Learn more here.

What To Do When You Feel Stuck

In the tarot, the suit of swords corresponds to the mental realm, for, just like a sword, the mind is double edged. It can cut through confusion and generate new ideas, but it can also lead us through a labyrinth of unproductive thoughts.

When we don’t know how to use our minds in a soul-aligned way, the mind ends up using us.

What does this look like? In a nutshell, we equate our thoughts with reality with far too little questioning of the leaps and assumptions the mind loves to make, and then we take action based on this faulty chain of “reasoning.” Or, just as likely, we take no action at all because we feel stuck.

The Ego Comes a Knockin’

An example from my own life: My husband and I just moved last month, and I’ve found myself more prone to ego chatter as I work to rebuild my healthy routines in our new home. In the midst of all of this, I went to a class taught by one of my favorite teachers, and I found myself ruminating on the way home over things that I’d said, wishing I hadn’t been so quiet and shy, and on and on and on the ego chatter went.

The following day, I ran into a friend who is also a student of this teacher, and he was telling me what a great experience he had connecting with our teacher over lunch, how the teacher had commended him on such and such, and so forth.

As soon as I said goodbye to my friend and got in the car, I could feel  my ego mind ready and raring to go–oooooh, baby! Let’s do this! My ego was practically foaming at the mouth as it dove head first into Comparison Hell, a realm it knows all to well.

Cue The Witness

But then, my Higher Self stepped in, and I was able, instead, to just watch as the ego splashed around in the mud, riling up emotions and churning out more cyclical thoughts. To be sure, I was still feeling all of the emotions and sensations–embarrassment, the sickness in my stomach, the heat rushing to my chest and face, jealousy, the ants under my skin–but I was also aware that there is a part of me that is not that.

The ego came up with a plan–it loves its plans–which, as always, consisted of only two options, both unappealing. Here’s what it offered me:

  1. I could break away from this teacher and the student group I was a member of, even though they was having an immensely positive impact on my life.
  2. I could obsessively compete with my friend, so my teacher would see that I was better.

Really, ego? That’s all you’ve got for me?

The thing is, me five years ago would have believed these thoughts through and through. I would have felt genuinely stuck, agonizing between leaving the group or trying to find a way to look better than my friend.

And while it might seem easy to spot the ego’s game, reading it here in black and white, how often do you find yourself in situations where you feel truly torn between two unattractive options that seem, legitimately, like the only game in town? How often do you listen to friends as they flip flop back and forth between alternatives they have no real desire to pursue?

How the Ego Keeps Us Stuck

Ninety-nine percent of the tarot readings I perform are about dilemmas generated from this ego space. It’s no wonder that we feel stuck–we don’t want to move forward in any of the directions the ego is presenting, and when we believe these are the only roads out of our situation, it makes sense that we stall or even try to move backward.

The problem is rarely our actual circumstances, as counter-intuitive as that might sound–the problem comes down to our information source.

Think of the ego as a news channel, like Fox News, for example. If you base your view of the world and the decisions you make on this one information source–well, you’ll have a very limited view of the world, and your decisions will reflect this limitation. You’ll find yourself facing similar circumstances no matter where you go or whom you’re with, because the lens through which you’re viewing and interpreting these different circumstances remains the same.

The ego likes to boil everything down to black and white, because it doesn’t have the ability to process more complex situations. The issue is that reality, by its very nature, is complex, so when we’re relying on the ego’s simplified snapshot of events, we are automatically disconnected from reality. We are living in our heads.

In mainstream culture, we’re taught that this is the only way to go. We’re taught that relying on anything other than our heads is foolish, and this further strengthens our belief that our ego chatter is real and must be heeded.

The thing is, if this method was working as well as promised, we’d see it. We wouldn’t be riddled with anxiety and depression, feeling trapped in our own lives, stuck between a rock and a hard place. The proof is in the pudding. It’s time for us to see the limitations of the ego.

The ego mind is meant to be a tool. We are not meant to be a tool of the ego mind.

…And How We Can Break Free

In order to shift our relationship with the ego, it’s time to step into our power. We do this by:

  • becoming the Witness to the ego’s chatter, rather than diving in, participating, and identifying with the noise.
  • questioning everything the ego says. When it presents us with certainties, respond to everything with, “I wonder if…” and “What if I tried…”
  • recognizing that we have the power. In every moment, we have the option to listen to the ego…or not. Just because the ego is talking doesn’t mean we have to listen, much less do what it says.

To return to my example, here’s what this practice looked like for me.

While driving home, I watched the ego chattering away about how I should go about competing with my friend, and how I would have to leave the community if that didn’t “work.” The simple act of witnessing the chatter allowed me to see that the chatter is not me. I don’t have to identify with the chatter. It’s just chatter.

When we identify with the chatter, we’re left feeling that we won’t be okay unless we resolve the issue and hurryupandmakeadecision! The ego has to have a plan, pronto, even if it’s a disastrously shitty one, in order to feel safe. You have the power to resist the ego’s frantic planning.

The irony is that this planning actually generates anxiety, even though the ego thinks planning is its only ward against anxiety. Again, the proof’s in the pudding. If the ego’s planning was actually working to alleviate anxiety, why are we so damn anxious all the time, and why do we feel so much anxiety specifically when we’re engaged in this ego-driven planning–what should I do, what should I do, what should I do? It’s simple: because it doesn’t work.

Then, I questioned the ego’s assertions that I could either leave or compete.

“Hmmm…I see that you’re feeling really intense about this, and you’re feeling the need to make a decision immediately, but I’m going to stay open to possibilities, ego. I love this community and don’t want to leave it, and I also love my friend and don’t want to compete with him. I trust that there’s another way, even though I don’t know what it is yet. There’s no rush. I’m open to options that are correct and for the good of all to make themselves known.”

And then I rolled down the windows, breathed in the fresh air, focused on the sunshine, and felt my mind start to clear. In that moment, I noticed that I was driving by a park, and with the ego chatter turned down a couple of notches, I was able to hear my intuition’s guidance to go for a walk.

I pulled over and started to walk. I wasn’t trying to figure anything out; my only “plan” was to be present. To look at the flowers and trees, to feel the earth beneath my feet, and to trust that this was a valid alternative to obsessively planning and trying to figure everything out.

And then, about ten minutes into my walk, the truth washed over me like a calming wave. The truth that I didn’t need to do anything. There was no situation to fix. I didn’t need to leave or compete. That sick, uneasy feeling in my stomach wasn’t a product of the external circumstances; it was generated by my ego. It wasn’t proof that something was wrong and needed to be fixed. It was simply the bruising of the ego. A bruise. Nobody’s dying here. I’m safe.

The ego can convince us of anything if we let it.

It can convince us that everything is an emergency.

That we can only choose A or B.

That we aren’t safe until we decide.

But all this convincing and clamoring doesn’t make it true.

You can choose to shut down all forms of guidance and turn up the ego channel, believing that this will keep you safe and “on track.”

Or you can remain open.

You can trust that there are other ways of knowing.

That planning isn’t everything.

That a life well lived isn’t linear.

That you don’t have to know everything to be safe.

That you’re okay, right here, right now.

And in this space that you’ve staked out, free from the chattering of the ego, the wisdom and clarity you’re seeking…appears.

You Are Shaping Your Reality Right Now

The idea that our thoughts create, or at the very least influence, our reality is becoming ever more mainstream, but I’ve noticed an interesting disconnect happening for many of us. A disconnect between what I’ll call our real-time thoughts and our “special,” mindful thoughts. Let me explain.

Meet Sara…

Sara’s a big believer in the Law of Attraction and the power of thought. She spends time meditating and focusing on what she wants, and she has positive affirmations taped to her bathroom mirror.

Sara also has a really stressful job, and most nights after work she finds herself complaining with her friends over a glass of wine about work meetings, project overload, and irritating coworkers. Throughout the day, she finds herself resentful of the fact that she’s doing more work than the other people in her department, and she knows that if she tries to cut back on her work load, things will fall apart.

When we see this scenario described in two short paragraphs, it’s easy to spot the opposing forces at play, but often, when we’re in the midst of our lives, it can seem like the two are separate and unrelated.

All Thoughts Have Power

We often think that the thoughts we have when we’re consciously working to generate positive thinking are the true blueprint for our reality. They’re what I call the special, mindful thoughts, and they feel special simply because we’re paying attention when we create them.

But the fact is, all of our thoughts are shaping our reality. Our “real-time” thoughts that run throughout the entire day, whether we’re aware of them or not, are also woven into the blueprint of our reality. Our after-work complaint sessions that feel oh so hard to resist are shaping our reality just as much as those positive affirmations.

There is no separation between the thoughts we’re mindful of and the thoughts that mindlessly fill our minds. And I would argue that because the latter typically takes up the bulk of our thinking, they’re even more powerful.

Doing the Energetic Math

Think of this in energetic terms: If you spend a good portion of your day worrying about how you’re going to get everything done, resenting people for not doing more, mulling over fears about x, y, and z, focusing on things that trigger anxiety, feeling guilty because you’re not doing such and such–this is a massive amount of energy that is being generated and directed at unwanted things.

Is it any wonder then that these unwanted things take up so much of our lives? Our positive affirmations, done maybe a few times a day at best, are working against a tsunami of opposition.

So, while it’s tempting to think, “Well, maybe my thoughts don’t have that much of an effect on my reality, because those affirmations sure don’t seem to be working,” instead we discover that our thoughts are massively powerful–we’re just thinking way more about what we don‘t want than about what we do.

Waiting for the World to Change

Let’s look at this disconnect from another angle. We might think that if only we could change our external circumstances, then our thoughts would follow suit. If Circumstance A were no longer an issue, then we wouldn’t “have to” worry. If Annoying Person would just stop being so annoying already, then we wouldn’t “have to” think about how annoying they are all the time.

We wait for external situations to change before we are willing to change our minds.

And we will be waiting a very long time, indeed.

When we realize how truly powerful our thoughts and words are, we don’t take them so lightly. We see complaining for the powerful act of reality-shaping that it really is, and we aren’t as quick to indulge in a “harmless” complain-a-thon to blow off steam.

We see all of our thoughts and words as potent spells that create the world we live in.

We begin to see the connection between the ever-present, nagging thought that we’re not doing enough and the reality of our jam-packed work load. (If only I could get all of these things done, then I’ll feel like I’ve done enough–that I am enough.)

We see the connection between thoughts that our body is the enemy and hating all of the ways it doesn’t work and the reality of our health issues. (If only my body would work better, then I’d stop hating it.)

We see the connection between thoughts that we can’t rely on anyone else to get the job done and the reality of feeling unsupported and surrounded by people who aren’t pulling their weight. (If only people would step up and do their share, then I could stop doing everything myself.)

The Ego Always Wants Proof

The ego will challenge us when we work to change our thoughts in absence of “proof” that the change is justified. But our ego isn’t concerned with whether or not we’re happy; it just wants to feel safe and secure, and the best way it knows how to do this is to deliver up more of the same–even if more of the same is making us miserable.

Our ego will have us stick to our thoughts until the day we die, railing against all of the external circumstances that just never seem to change.

Our soul, on the other hand, is ready for something so much bigger.

While the ego is busy fortifying the walls of our prison, the soul is peering out the window, marveling at all of the wonders we’ve yet to experience.

The soul is ready to trust that life can be so much more fulfilling than anything the ego has to offer. That there are options in abundance, even when the ego feels defeated and choice-less.

The soul knows that no matter how impossible external circumstances might seem, there is always room to shift and change within ourselves, and that this is where our true power lies. Not in resentfully waiting for or trying to force others to change, but in changing ourselves. For when we do, we no longer see things in the same way. We can’t. We’ve changed.

When your ego is hellbent on focusing all of your energy on trying to change your external circumstances, press pause.

Allow your soul to speak. Your ego certainly has been allowed more than its fair share of air time. Your soul will invite you to change the way you think, to change the way you speak, even when the external circumstances remain the same.

Your soul is wise. Allow it to change your mind.

Permit your soul the honor of using your precious thought energy to create your reality. Trust me, your soul is much better suited for the job than your ego ever will be.


P.S. Check out this powerful method for nipping complaining in the bud.

Allowing Money to Flow

I was at a bookstore the other day with a simple task: buy a graduation present. I even knew exactly what I was looking for: a cute journal. Nothing more.

But when I got to the journal display and saw the assortment of beautiful, colorful books (not to mention all of the tempting merchandise I had to walk past to get there), a familiar sound bite was playing in my head.

“Maybe I should get this, too.”

Over and over and over, as I looked at a journal with a bright orange fox on the cover, then another plastered with a rainbow splash of flowers, and one with an intricate tree embossed in gold. And then a set of colored pens. And a cute stationery set.

I picked out a journal for the graduation gift, and with the book tucked under my arm, I weighed two more journals in either hand.

“Maybe I should get this, too. Maybe I should get this, too. Maybe…”

I took a deep breath and asked my Higher Self to step in and guide my thoughts, words, and deeds, and as I continued to breathe and wait for the shift to occur, suddenly the journals in my hands felt heavy. Too heavy. Unnecessary.

I set them down and continued to focus on my breath. New awareness seeped in. I became aware of my tendency to stock up, to amass things before I actually needed them. 

Then, I became aware that I was more likely to do this with things that I wanted and not things that I needed. Hmm…interesting. Deeper still, I became aware of an odd fear, one that I hadn’t been conscious of before: I stocked up on wants, in part, because I wanted to obtain the object of my desire before I changed my mind and the want faded.

This intrigued me. Why on earth would I  do this? I mean, if part of me was aware that the want would inevitably pass, that in a few minutes or hours I wouldn’t care anymore about the object of my desire, why not wait it out?

The easy answer is low tolerance for delayed gratification, but this didn’t resonate, because, quite often, I savor the waiting, the anticipation. The more complex answer is that I am trying to solidify and concretize (to use a Pema Chödrön term) something ephemeral.

And this brings us back to the ever important topic of flow, which I wrote about recently (“Can We Experience Flow Even in Crappy Times?”).

Flow requires a certain level of allowing, of surrender, because by its very nature, flow is not something we can entirely plan for; it’s something that happens, in large part, organically. It flows. It doesn’t take predesignated steps, one at a time.

And when we are feeling ungrounded, unstable, or insecure (different flavors of the same state), we are more likely to resist flow.

If our self-care practices have slipped (or lapsed entirely), we’re more likely to resist flow.

If we’re engaging in thoughts and behaviors that unground us (and these will be different for each of us)–things like watching too much TV, spending too much time on Facebook (or online, in general), allowing cyclical thoughts to carry us away–we’re more likely to resist flow.

Looking at this in the context of my journal conundrum and the desire to stock up, when I am feeling ungrounded, I am more likely to try and solidify anything I can get my hands on, including that fleeting want.

My ego feeds the fear: “You might not be able to get this later. Better stock up now!”

Rather than trust that when I actually need a new journal (i.e. not when I still have a half-empty one waiting at home) I’ll be able to find one, my ego mistrusts the flow and puts up a dam made of books and stuff bought well before they’re needed.

In The Witch’s Coin, Christopher Penzcak writes, “an initiate owns nothing, yet has use of everything,” and “The abundance of the world is not rooted in the planet’s ability to make more of our finite resources. They’re finite. The abundance comes in our relationship, to keep the flow of ‘wealth’ by releasing what does not serve, so that energy can be better put to use elsewhere.”

When we amass stuff from a fear of lack–past, present, or future–we block flow. We help to create the very thing we most fear: a lack. A lack of flow.

We begin to create a reality in which things do not flow to us when we need them. They can’t–we’ve erected a giant dam. And this creates a feedback loop: things don’t flow, we fear lack, we stock up, the dam gets bigger, things don’t flow, we fear lack…

I took a few moments in the store to imagine roots extending from my feet, deep into the Earth. I allowed the calming, grounding Earth energy to flow into my body as I continued to breathe slowly, feeling gravity, stillness wash over me.

And then, I turned and walked away from the smorgasbord of stuff, paid for the gift I came in for, and left. I felt light, unencumbered. I felt grateful that all of this beauty existed–fox journals! flowers! trees! pretty pens!–and trusted that I didn’t need to acquire it all to feel safe.

And once I finish my current journal, I trust that a super awesome, just-what-I-need journal will appear. I choose to trust in flow.

Care to join me?

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The Secret Ingredient for Manifestation

These days, most of us have at least heard of manifestation and the Law of Attraction–but do they work? And if so, why aren’t they working for us as well as we’d like?

The good news is that, yes, manifestation works. It isn’t broken, and neither are you. You’re just overlooking a secret ingredient that’s vital to the process.

Download my free eBook here and discover what’s missing and how to get it back.

Can We Experience Flow Even in Crappy Times?

In spiritual circles, when someone says they’re experiencing a state of flow, they usually mean things are going well. Or, put another way, things are going the way that they want them to.

But can we experience flow when things are unpleasant? Or does unpleasantness signify that we’re disconnected from flow?

Flow, in my mind, is a neutral term. It doesn’t preference a pleasant flow over an unpleasant one. It simply means that things are, well, flowing.

Google tells us that the verb flow means to “move along or out steadily and continuously in a current or stream.”

So, flow implies movement of some kind. Movement of what? Energy. Energy in the form of our body, our thoughts, our emotions, the events we’re experiencing, and anything and everything in between.

If flow itself is neutral, how do we experience flow when events are unpleasant? The same way we do when events are pleasant: by allowing.

Is Allowing Weak?

The concept of allowing is often a hard one to cozy up to, especially in a culture that emphasizes taking action–even rash, dangerous action–over stillness, where stillness is seen as a weakness. But allowing is, at its core, an acceptance of reality.

Think about this: When we are in a situation, whatever we’ve experienced has already happened. So what we’re really debating is whether or not we want to allow something that has already happened to happen. We can debate this all day long, and the experience has already taken place. It’s done. Whether we choose to “allow” it or not is really just an illusion of control.

When we allow, we accept reality at face value. This happened. Now what?

Now, we can choose how to respond, and this is where our power truly lies. Not in wishing the past hadn’t happened. Not in pretending that if we don’t allow something into our reality it ceases to exist (this is called delusion).

This brings us to the two important skills that enable us to engage in flow. Think of these as the on/off switch for your personal life flow. If you’re feeling stuck, flip the flow switch on by engaging these two skills.

1. Observe what is.

This is a big part of contemplative practices from many spiritual traditions, the practice of simply observing reality.

Imagine that you are a reporter and your only task is to describe what is occurring as objectively as possible. You don’t need to add your subjective interpretation (“This is bad,” “She’s being mean”); simply stick to observable, factual occurrences. This might be external or internal.

  • There’s a baby crying in a row behind me.
  • My heart is beating faster than it was before.
  • That driver switched lanes without using a turn signal.
  • The grass feels cool between my toes.

The above told from a subjective, interpretive position might look like:

  • That baby is driving me nuts! Why aren’t the parents doing anything?!
  • I can’t believe he just said that to me! What an asshole!
  • Well, la di da–look who feels they don’t need to use their turn signal! *honk*
  • Oooh, that feels nice…

It might seem robotic to take in life through observations, but there’s immense power to be had in this process because it allows us to take in more of life than what our subjective filters allow. We’re able to receive details that don’t match up with our interpretations, and thus, our picture of reality and our place within it expands.

This practice is especially powerful when combined with…

2. Feeling our feelings.

In addition to our objective awareness, we also have our emotional experience, and when we learn how to tap into this skillfully, it becomes a wonderful asset.

Quite simply, feeling our feelings is just what it sounds like: allowing ourselves to have the emotional experience that is arising, as it arises. There is a vast difference between feeling our feelings and acting out or reacting to our feelings, and we are aiming for the former. I am not advocating lashing out in anger or giving someone the silent treatment–both are examples of acting out our feelings.

Feeling our feelings is an inside job. When anger arises, we sit with it. We feel the accompanying sensations in our body, and we can use the tools of observation to name them, if we need help staying present. “My heart is beating faster. I feel a warmth in my throat. My hands are clenching.”

We resist the urge to tell other people about our feelings in the moment, waiting until we ourselves have felt the feelings first. This allows us to truly integrate our emotional experience, rather than distancing ourselves from it by venting, creating interpretive storylines, casting blame, etc.

This Is How We Flow

With these two skills–observing what is and feelings our feelings in response to what is–we are working with reality. We are allowing reality to be what it already is, and we are receiving information from both our objective mind and our subjective emotions with the purpose of choosing a mindful response, in contrast to mindlessly reacting to events and resisting reality.

This is flow. This is allowing life to occur as it occurs, and mindfully choosing how we want to respond.

And allowing, again, is not merely passive. When we choose how to respond, we alter the path of flow, and we experience that altered flow as the next batch of life experiences.

Thus, allowing and mindfully responding are the foundation for living in a state of ease. Not necessarily a state of easy, but ease. Rather than trying to force reality to be what it is not, we are accepting reality for what it is, and this ushers in a feeling of ease.

When we resist allowing reality to penetrate our awareness, we delude ourselves into a state of dis-ease. We feel disconnected from ease–we feel dis-eased– because, deep down, we know reality is not as we are pretending it to be, and we can never quite shake the discordance without fragmenting our psyche to a greater or lesser degree.

But when we allow reality to be as it is, we’re no longer funneling our energy into the impossible: changing what has already occurred. We’re laser focused on using the information gleaned from past occurrences to choose how we want to shape what is yet to be.

And this, my friend, is what it is to flow.

Enough Is Enough

Even seemingly straightforward situations have a lot of moving parts.

Think about it: You’re ordering a coffee, and you have a 30-second exchange with the barista. Simple, right? Yes…and all of your past experiences led you to this particular moment in time, as did the past experiences of the barista, the other people working at the cafe, the people who grew and processed the coffee beans, made the cups, delivered the almond milk, and on and on it goes. Countless factors converging in every moment in time.

Why on earth does this matter? Well, it’s easy to get caught up in an unproductive thought pattern when we overlook the underlying complexity of life, the thought pattern of, “I should be able to figure this out!” whenever we’re faced with a problem.

When we take this approach we often feel overwhelmed, because our ability to take action is tied to our ability to “figure it out.” If we can’t do the latter, we feel paralyzed and scattered.

It can be helpful simply to acknowledge that there are far more moving parts than we can ever conceive of, much less address, no matter how long we brainstorm, hash things out with our friends, or stay up half the night obsessing.

How is this perspective shift helpful? For starters, it’s based in reality. This is generally a good place to start.

It’s hard to make effective changes when we’re skewing what we see to fit a neat and tidy explanation that exists in our head. Life generally doesn’t care about our explanations and continues doing whatever it was doing before we developed our clever little plan.

It also requires that we set more realistic expectations for ourselves (and others). Instead of coming up with grandiose plans that rely on everyone and everything around us changing to fit our agenda, we stick to what we can actually impact: our self.

We let go of trying to convince and control others, followed by acting like the Plan Police, making sure everyone’s sticking to the plan (and judging them in our heads when they aren’t). These things don’t work. Or at least, they don’t work well, and they completely drain us of energy while generating a lot of resentment from the people around us.

When we recognize that there are far more moving parts than we can address at any one time, we make choices.

I can’t change all 9,999 things by Friday, but I can pack a lunch today instead of eating out.

I can’t change all 9,999 things by Friday, but I can call my representative this morning and ask her to support such-and-such legislation.

I can’t change all 9,999 things by Friday, but I can take a bath tonight and turn off my devices by 9 pm.

Sometimes we use the larger-than-life plans as a distraction. We use them to justify staying immobilized. Just a little bit more planning and analyzing, and then I can take action. Or If I can’t do all 9,999 things, what’s the point?

The point is that all change, even those epic, sweeping changes that seem like they happened overnight, are the result of tiny, often un-glamorous choices adding up, one after the other, after the other.

We can’t take part in the grand, sweeping changes if we’re telling ourselves we have to know everything, see everything, do everything before we take a single step.

We take part by doing our best to stay informed, by doing our best to tune into our inner guidance, and by making the best choices we can with the limited knowledge we have.

That’s the best we can do.

And you know what? That’s enough.

Are you missing important movement vitamins?

I recently read–and loved the crap out of–a book called Movement Matters by biomechanist Katy Bowman. When you’re done with this post, I highly recommend:

  1. Checking out her books.
  2. Checking out her blog and her podcast. (Bonus: Listening to the podcast while you move.)
  3. Checking out her videos. I bought Nutritious Movement for a Healthy Pelvis and it’s fab-u-lous.

But first, let’s talk about movement vitamins, a phrase I picked up from Bowman. Most of us are familiar with the idea of eating a variety of foods as a way to increase our chances of getting the diversity of macronutrients and the vitamins and minerals we need. If you only eat bananas, your body would be very sad. And by “sad” I mean “totally deficient in a whole bunch of super important nutrients that support life.”

In the same way, it’s possible to have a movement diet that is higher or lower on the diversity scale. Many of us think about movement mainly in the context of exercise (and possibly in the context of feeling bad that we’re not getting enough). So, as long as we’re hitting the gym a few times a week for an hour, or whatever our personal goal is, we can check movement off our list.

Bowman brings up two ideas that turn this thinking on its head. One, if you look at how much “couch potatoes” move versus how much regular exercisers move as a percentage of total time in a week, the numbers aren’t that different. Even if you’re working out an hour every single day, that’s still only 4% of your week spent moving.

And two, when we do work out we often stick to the same things. For me, that’s usually yoga and hiking. For you it might be biking. Or swimming. Or treadmilling. The point is, when we engage in pretty predictable movements, we’re moving pretty predictable parts of our body in pretty predictable ways, and this can lead to areas of our body that are rarely, if ever, moved.

Movement is a requirement for health, even down to the cellular level, so if, for example, you wear shoes that allow for very little foot movement, you now have areas of your foot–specific joints, for example, of which your foot has many–that pretty much never move. Same is true even if you’re walking around barefoot but you’re always walking on, say, asphalt or flat trails.

The point is, just like we can’t survive on a diet of bananas, our bodies need a diversity of movement, and all of the parts of our body, not just the predictable chunks, like our abs or our biceps, need a wide range of movement.

Now, when I learned this my first reaction was, well, hellwhat’s the point of exercising then? After my temper tantrum had run its course, though, I realized that there are many reasons to continue exercising (it feels great, I can do it with people I love and build community while I move, etc), and just as importantly, getting more movement vitamins doesn’t mean not exercising. It simply means looking at my entire day as an opportunity to move, not just the hour I spend in yoga class.

For example, I can squat while I read a blog post instead of sitting at my desk, I can do a silly walk around my apartment while I brush my teeth, I can climb a tree while I’m out hiking, I can hang from the monkey bars at the park–in short, I can consciously inject a variety of movements into my daily routine, in the same way that I consciously choose to eat more foods besides bananas.

I want to leave you with two takeaways:

    1. A blog post from Bowman, “13 Ways to Make Your Walk More Nutritious” that will help you up your movement diversity in simple ways.
    2. A super short (less than two minutes) video from Tom Myers, one of my bodywork idols, about the importance of varied movement:

How to be a Light Worker When You’re Pissed

I was flipping through one of my old journals when I came across an entry that really grabbed me. I’d been struggling with anger toward one of my parents at the time, and in my journal, I wrote that even though I knew the anger was detrimental to my well being and was fueling self-destructive behaviors, it was hard to let it go.

I had a subconscious belief running in the background like a tired, old soundtrack that said, “If you stop being angry, you’re saying that what your parent did was okay.”

And this insight wasn’t necessarily anything new. I’ve known for awhile that a major roadblock to forgiveness is equating forgiveness with condoning someone’s behavior, when, in fact, the two are quite distinct. You forgive in order to free yourself. Forgiveness is not the same as condoning past hurtful behavior, nor is it an invitation for future hurtful behavior.

Even so, something was keeping me stuck.

It took hearing about an acquaintance’s work drama to flip the switch for me. The situation was this: “Karen” was in a supervisory position over “Pete,” and for months, the two had been engaging in a power tug o’ war. Pete procrastinated on work projects, and Karen ripped him a new one every chance she got. From the outside, coworkers were wondering 1) Pete’s a smart guy–why on earth doesn’t he just get his stuff done on time to prevent the bi-weekly blowouts? and 2) Why doesn’t Karen find a more productive way of dealing with Pete because this strategy clearly isn’t working?

Both very good questions. Where my interest lies, though, is in Pete’s situation, because this is one that I’ve found myself in many times with my family. As an adult, I’d find myself doing things that felt like Teenage Me rebelling, and even though they made little to no sense in the current situation, it was hard to stop.

Why? Well, there are many reasons, of course, but here’s a juicy one: I wanted to prove that my parent was “bad,” and one way I could do that was through triggering their bad behavior by deliberately doing things I knew would set them off. As a kid, I imagine that a big part of my subconscious motivation was that I needed help. I was no match for my parent’s domineering anger, but perhaps if I could trigger them to act out, someone who could stand up to them, like a teacher or a relative, would see how bad things really were and come to my rescue.

As a kid with limited options and life skills, this made sense. As an adult, however, there are far better ways to get my needs met, and provoking bad behavior in the hopes of dragging other people to my rescue is far from a good strategy. In Pete’s case, this tactic is leading him down the road to termination, and I can bet that Karen isn’t going to be the one who feels punished in that scenario. Pete is punishing himself.

What Can We Do?

One of the most transformative steps for me is recognizing what my needs are. Until I know what I need, it’s hard to consciously choose healthy ways of getting those needs met, something I’ve written about extensively in the past.

If you find yourself reacting on autopilot (which sometimes takes the form of chronic complaining), use this as an opportunity to press the pause button and take stock.

What do you want from this situation?

What do you need in this situation in order to feel [safe, supported, etc]?

And the question for the win: How can you take responsibility for getting those needs met?

This doesn’t mean you can’t ask for help; sometimes taking responsibility for our needs means asking for support from the right people (i.e. people who are actually in a position to support us and who are willing to do so).

And even if getting our needs met does involve other people, it inevitably circles back to us. We must be meeting our own needs before the support of others can have a significant impact. If we’re not supporting ourselves, other people’s efforts to support us are either rejected or they’re never enough–we just need more and more to feel okay.

When we start by supporting ourselves, which might look like establishing healthy boundaries, getting a massage, validating our feelings, and other forms of self-care, the support of others is like the cherry on top. We’re not desperately relying on it to feel okay, but it sure is nice to receive.

When we get clear on what we need and want, we can go about getting those needs and wants met in the light of consciousness, rather than taking a back alley through the subconscious, resulting in behavior that’s baffling even to ourselves.

In New Age circles, there’s a lot of talk about being a Light Worker. If you ask me, more so than putting a positive spin on everything and keeping it “light,” this is one of the Light Worker’s primary tasks: To bring the heavy stuff out of our closets into the light of consciousness so we can forge ahead with mindful awareness.

Who’s with me?