You Already Have the Answers

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Because I run the risk of sounding more than a little TAPPED if I tell you that I think there are hidden messages to the songs that get stuck in our heads, I'm going to pose this to you from another angle.  A SCIENTIFIC angle, of course.  Because nobody argues with SCIENCE.

Now please pay careful attention to what I'm about to say because even though I have no scientific qualifications whatsoever, my "I Have a Dream" post (date TBD) will make a whole lot more sense if you've read this one first.

Plus, I really like it when people pay attention to me.

SCIENTISTS believe that our subconscious minds are supremely knowledgeable and often contain the answers to the questions we are pursuing in life.  (Herein lies the power of meditation:  allow the brain to rest, remain open to the information that appears, and receive clarity and direction.)

It's a lot like a Magic 8 Ball, only more reliable.

Here comes my theory (which quite possibly might not be MY theory, per se, but I intend to claim it as mine anyway):  I submit that that our supremely knowledgeable subconscious minds often use songs to send guidance to our conscious minds.

Listen:  I know that sounds a little whack, Jack.  Please bear with me.

Take, for example, the following compelling illustration.  A few weeks ago, I spent three days with three thoughts circulating on repeat in my brain:

• Annoyingly Repetitious Thought #1:  I wonder why Mastin [the Mastin with over 500,000 loyal blog followers] hasn't responded to the witty and thought-provoking post I sent him to consider posting on his site.  I must have offended him.  I'm so embarrassed:  what an a**hole I am for offending him.

• Annoyingly Repetitious Thought #2:  Why haven't I responded yet to a few heart-felt (and heartWARMING) emails from cherished readers of my itty-bitty blog?  I am an ass for not doing onto others.

• Annoyingly Repetitious Thought #3:   [ONE line of a John Mayer song.  Over and over.  And OVER.]  "Now I'm starting to see that maybe it has nothing to do with me."

Can't I see the subliminal message here?  Mastin's lack of response had nothing to do with me.

Obvious, right?  Not to me it wasn't.  I had myself convinced that by putting myself "out there," I had blown all future chances not only with Mastin but with every thought-leader in my field, as he had probably already sent an urgent email to Oprah and everyone else in his address book, urging them to black-list my emails.

[Warning:  Internal resistance is a sneaky, convincing, and creative story-teller, friends!  Mine creates at least one conspiracy theory per day.  If you, too, have got the boogie-woogie in you and it's got to get out, see Steven Pressfield's life-changing book, "The War of Art" for a refreshing perspective on resistance and how to sidestep it.)

Where was I?  Ahhh, yes.  If only I had paid attention to Thought #3 (a message from my supremely knowledgeable subconscious mind on INCESSANT repeat), maybe I could have saved myself the worry and used that wasted energy towards more positive endeavors.

What I'm trying to say today is this:  if you've had a question on your mind lately, consult your intuition and you'll likely find that you already have the answer.  Meditation might be a more reliable guide than HOTTRAX 102.7, but hey--whatevah floats that boat of yours.

Finally, please rest assured that skilled scientists are working diligently around the clock to ascertain why, for the love of all things holy, I have had Dominic the Donkey stuck in my head ever since I wrote this post.

(A RIG-A-JIG-JIG!!  HEE-HAW!!  HEE-HAW!!!)

Doubters Gonna Doubt. Dreamers Gotta Dream. (My Response to Someone Who Doubted Me)

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Dear Readers:

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post titled "I Have A Dream," but I didn't publish it because I pish-poshed my far-reaching goals, giving self-doubt a temporary win.

(My inner dialogue went something like this:  "Who amI to make such big changes in the world?  And how embarrassing would it be to put myself out there like this and then FAIL PUBLICLY??")

But this weekend, somebody laughed at my dreams.  When my proud husband shared my exciting news about being on Mastin Kipp's blog (The Daily Love) last Friday, this person exhaled patronizingly through her nose.  So you're an "inspirational blogger," she said, all snarky-like and with condescending amusement.

AS IF I aught to plant my feet on the ground and do something more "realistic"!

[Time Out:  Am I aware that I am a sensitive person?  Absolutely.  Are my hurt feelings in this situation a reflection of my own self-doubt?  Probably.  Points acknowledged.  Moving on.]

As much as I've worked to overcome my egoic pridefulness, I do not wish to overcome it completely.  There are times when the ego is not only a strong character trait but is also fundamentally essential for the improvement of our world.

The instant one corner of that person's mouth lifted--as if her smirk was fundamentally UNCONTAINABLE, I knew I would be publishing my "I Have a Dream" post.  I looked that person in the eye, smiled politely, and resolved to show her exactly what I CAN do.

Nobody--but NOBODY--laughs at my dreams but me.

That's the beauty of the doubters, dear readers:  they show us how much we believe in ourselves.  They show us the urgency of our forward movement.

We send the doubters light and love and empathize with them, since we know that their doubt in us is only a reflection of how much they doubt themselves.  We have been in that dismal place of crippling fear.  And--similar to how we feel when we leave the DMV--we know we never want to go back to that place again.

It's also our job, Dreamers, to do our damnedest to prove the Doubters wrong.  They may never "see the light" that the future can be brighter than today (if only we vow to make it so.)  But if we DO go valiantly in the direction of our dreams, then at least our actions will give descendants of the doubters hope that they, too, can change the world.

You've probably heard it said that "from s/he to whom much has been given, much is expected."

I've always thought of that saying in terms of material wealth.  But now I think it's even more important in regards to intangible things.  I think that saying applies beautifully to the possession of HOPE.

Many people have been led to believe that positive change is hopeless.  They think the "good ole' days" are forever gone and that society, our country, and our planet are plundering head-first to an even more dismal future.

But some of us do have hope that our actions--OURS, PERSONALLY and collectively--can make a positive difference in this world.

We all have doubts.  Even the most successful people in history have doubted themselves, and doubted themselves often.

But if, in addition to our doubts, we ALSO feel drawn towards our HOPE, then it is our right--no, our DUTY--to pursue those unrealistic dreams because from s/he to whom HOPE has been given, much is expected.

The person who doubted me this weekend was right:  my dreams ARE unrealistic.  I would be doing the world a disservice if I returned to my "realistic" goals.

[Hint:  if you're feeling depressed by the daily grind, that may be a sign that you need to make your goals a little more UNrealistic.  Also, if you perceive your sensitivity as a "weakness" (that's a rut I was stuck in for 31 years), I'd wager a bet that most of the people who have elicited positive change in our world have been motivated to do so BECAUSE they were so damn sensitive.]

The very fact that my dreams are "unrealistic" is exactly why I'm going to be so giddy when I am doing the back float through a proverbial swimming pool of accomplished unrealistic dreams.

So, my next post will be my "I Have a Dream" post.  Until then, please brainstorm and share your "unrealistic" hopes.  I really want to hear about them.

ONWARDS, DREAMERS!

With light and love for the Doubters, the Dreamers, and the Candlestick-Makers, Bethany

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Keep It Simple Santa: How to Walk the Walk for a Simple Holiday

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Simplify, Simplify, Simplify:  That's my motto from now through the holidays.

Yesterday, we scrapped our plans to visit the children's' museum so we could take a walk as a family.  Midway through, I sat on the cold ground and watched the sunlight bounce off my daughter's hair.  The way she turned her head into the wind while the salt air blew the seagulls' cries towards us brought me instantly back to childhood days at the beach when I was cuddled under a towel, pondering nothing other than the sound of the seagulls muffled by the wind.

Simple perfection.  And yet, we could have been battling crowds at the museum.

On Saturday, instead of rushing around to make an elaborate meal for my husband after his long work week, I threw some chicken in the crock pot so that I could lay on the floor with him and relish the sweet discomfort of our babies stepping on our bellies and faces as we huddled together.  Seemingly for the first time, I looked into his eyes and noticed that his pupils dilate when he looks into mine.   When our kids got intermittently distracted, I stole kisses from my husband, nibbling his giant bottom lip and appreciating its rubbery texture between my teeth.

Simple perfection.  And yet, I could have been cooking.

I get it right sometimes, this "Simplify" thing.  Other times:  not so much.   Like when I write lately.  Not so simple.

(Actually - let me ask you facetiously:  is starting and then scrapping seven posts on seven different subjects a good example of simplification?  Because if so, then my writing process for today's post has been a resounding success.  NAILED IT, actually!!)

But no:  I've blown 99% of my allocated writing time today to a cornocopia of half-baked ideas, and yet all I have in front of me is a blank screen and what I've claimed to be my mantra:  Simplify.  Simplify.  Simplify.

My handicap when it comes to writing is that I want to be too many things for too many people:  kinda like the way many of us approach the holidays.

When I blog, I want to be funny but not crass.  Informative but not boring.  Inspiring but not "out there."  Self-revealling but not self-deprecating.  Optimistic but not saccharine.  Memorable and not only a little bit memorable.

My blank screen is a classic case of too many good intentions coming together to result in nothing good at all:  kind of like mixing all the play dough colors together.  So I remind myself:  Keep It Simple, S…anta.

Last week, I retweeted Gabrielle Bernstein:  "When you think you need to do more, you probably need to do less."

I want to land on the "walkie-walkie" side of the line that delineates the walkers from the talkers.  So, with Gabby's wisdom in mind, I am going to publish this post even though my brain is telling me I need to do more with it, say more in it, be funnier in it, move a couple more mountains with it...and to do so in fewer words.

It's not always easy for me to drop into my heart, but when I do, I know that I am enough.  This post is enough.

That switch--that decision to act from our hearts instead of our heads--that's what the holidays are all about, isn't it?

That's what life is all about.

So when I say I want to simplify this holiday season, what I actually mean is that I want to act from my heart, not from my head.

I think a lot of us feel pressured to "make the most" of the holiday season by crafting like Martha Stewart, baking like Mrs Claus, gifting like Santa, volunteering like Jesus, all the while caroling like Buddy the Elf even though we feel as frazzled as the guy who says "hanging Christmas lights" in the 12 days of Christmas song.

Frankly, I don't think it matters how MUCH or how LITTLE we do for the holidays.  I think that ALL that matters is that we are acting from our hearts and not from our heads.

So if you love craft-wizardry like Martha, then deck those halls, baby.  If you love to cook, then don ye now your gay apparel and BAKE, baby--BAKE.  If gift-giving is your love language and you have the resources, then oh by gosh, by jingle:  knock yourself out, channel Oprah and give EVERYBODY a car.

But if you're giving or decking or baking or crafting because that's what your brain THINKS you "should" do, then please breathe deeply and "think" again.  Listen with your heart this time.  And you'll know whether you aught to finish baking those cookies or just lay on the floor covered in flour and sugar,  eating the batter and pondering where, exactly, Frosty the Snowman GOES when he waves goodbye singing, "don't you cry."

Perhaps an even better holiday mantra than "Simplify, Simplify" might be "From the heart!  From the heart!."

On the likely chance that we FORGET that this is our mantra, I propose that we sing "From the heart!  From the heart!" to the tune of "HEE-HAW, HEE-HAW," a classic line in the "Dominick the Italian Christmas Donkey" song.

That will guarantee that it gets stuck in our heads, at least through New Year's.

Doing less stuff with more light,

Bethany

Right on Time to Break the Cycle.

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At any random moment, my 16-month-old daughter is liable to throw her head back, laugh heartily at the sky, and run forward blindly with arms back and chest out until she collapses to the ground in a fit of laughter.

It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever witnessed.  And it happens (seemingly) unprovoked.

I've been thinking a lot about "Lettin' It Shine" lately, chewing on what I think that phrase actually means.  (Hint:  I DON'T think its application is limited to our positive, "shiny" emotions.)

One thing that is very clear to me from watching my kids is that "Lettin' It Shine" is not something we need to LEARN.  It's something we are BORN knowing.  It's something that we (tragically) UN-LEARN over time.

To put it more confusingly, in order to truly Let It Shine, we need to un-learn our un-learning.  [That's all!]

But how is it that we stop shining in the first place?  And WHY??

***[Cut to scene 2.]***

We're five minutes late for preschool already and I don't even have the kids in the car yet.  I'm carrying my son's bagel with cream cheese and jelly between my teeth while holding my toddler to my hip with one arm, dodging her attempts to grab the bagel by continuously flicking my head to the side, carrying two overflowing bags and two water bottles with the other arm, and attempting to open the car door.

My back is twitching again.

I stayed up later than I should have again last night, so I am (predictably) groggy this morning.  I'm not on my A-game.

I drop the two bags and water bottles on the ground, open the car door, put the bagel on the seat, and while I'm trying to wrestle my daughter into her car seat, I turn to see that my son is sauntering around our front yard with a long stick held to his nose, pretending to be an elephant.  I remind him (for the UMPteenth time) that we are late:   leave the stick here for later and get-in-the-CAR.

I wrestle a little more with wrestler-baby then glance at my son again.

"MmmmmMMMMMMMMMMPH!!!" he trumpets.  His head is hanging low, his weight sauntering from side to side, his feet plodding slowly…exactly like an elephant.

"LISTEN TO ME," I say.  I am firm and my voice is low and slow:  my best intimindating mom voice.  "I am taking that stick and you are getting in the car right now."

I grab the stick.

"BUT I WANT TO PUT IT IN THE CLOSET," he yells.  ["Garage," he means.  He's been keeping that stick in there every night since the hurricane.  It's thin, crooked in several places so as to take up maximum garage space (or, maybe, to make it look more like an elephant trunk), and it's at least ten feet long.]

"WE ARE LATE!" I say.  "THE STICK IS SAFE HERE IN THE DRIVEWAY.  WE CAN LEAVE IT HERE AND PLAY WITH IT WHEN YOU GET HOME.  NOW GET-IN-THE-CAR," I say.  (Not quite as low and slow that time.)

Now he is crying.  It's not the manipulative, I'm-trying-to-get-my-way cry.  It's his genuinely heart-broken and heart-breaking I-am-concerned-about-my-elephant-trunk cry.

And all of a sudden all of my recent reflections about why we humans forget how to "Let It Shine" smack me in the face--as if I just stepped on a rake.  WHAT AM I DOING?

I purse my lips into an "O" and blow:  a physical release of my disappointment in myself.  CAN'T I SEE WHAT'S HAPPENING?

My son is teaching me how beautiful that long and twisted dead stick is, and all I am thinking about is how much room it has been occupying in my recently-cleaned garage.

He is coaching me on how to enjoy the small things and I am hurrying him up so that we can--WHAT?--get to NURSERY SCHOOL??  Where they don't give a damn if you are late?  Where they sing and color and teach you to ENJOY THE SMALL THINGS??

My son is showing me how to let it shine and not only am I not taking the lesson in it, I am squashing HIS light.

Don't get me wrong:  I think kids need discipline and I think they need to learn to respect their parents.  If I make a rule, I need to follow through and teach my children to obey.

But why make the rule in this case?  How did we get here?  Do I not know that my son will take his splendid time noticing beauty on his way through the garage EVERY morning?

Why do I not plan time for that into our day?  Why must he adjust to MY pace, instead of me coming down to HIS pace more often?  Why do I not get myself to bed earlier at night so that I can have the PATIENCE to recognize what is and is not important in the morning?

This is how it happens, isn't it?  This is how we UN-LEARN how to shine.  Our parents are our teachers and if our parents do not take care of themselves and let themselves shine then when we grow to mirror them, we shine less, too.

It's time that we un-learn the un-learning, catchers of light.  It's time that we break the cycle by rocking our basic happiness fundamentals so that we can model--for our children, for ourselves, and for our peers--what it means to glow with an inner light.

This week, I'm committing to a 10:45pm lights-out time.  Every night.  No excuses.  I'm planning time into our morning for a toddler's pace (you should too, regardless of whether you have a toddler) and if we ARE "late" for something whose start-time doesn't matter, I'm going to relax and be laissez-faire about it.

Next time I think I am "late" for an appointment, I aught to pay attention because I might ACTUALLY be RIGHT ON TIME for the elephant parade.

Rock the Omnipotent EVERYDAY Vote

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As a ridiculous amount of luck and love would have it, I had the opportunity to jet-set to DC on a whim this weekend.  For free.  Just me and my hubby.  WHAAAT.

Oh, America.  Sweet, sweet land of liberty.

As my brain is swirling with reflections from two days in our nation's capital, I find myself both excited to share some newly-budding ideas and also leaning towards quiet contemplation.

Given that you're bound to be inundated with lots of charged political opinions today, I want this post to serve as a haven amongst the noise.  That's why I'm including a few unrelated impromptu photos I recently took of my cherished friend's two sweet sons.  Are their smiles not intoxicating?

Before jumping back to the political commentary of the moment, let's just pause, take a few deep breaths, and appreciate the restorative effect of happy souls, eh?  [Happy sigh.]

My two grandfathers (one who risked his life in Iwo Jima to defend this country, the other who immigrated to America for the liberties afforded us) would want me to remind you to vote today.

While, yes, I do believe that casting an educated vote is an important birthright and national responsibility, personally, I feel more inclined to remind you to consider the votes you make (maybe unconsciously) every day.

For example:  if you're voting for the candidate who you think will make the better decisions for our environment, then--please--tell me you you don't ask for the extra styrofoam cup to keep your iced coffee cold when you go to Dunkin Donuts.  Tell me you use a refillable water bottle instead of the disposable ones.  Tell me you--at least occasionally--buy organic.

(Otherwise, please think twice before you claim on Facebook that you are concerned with the opposing party's decisions regarding the environment.)

If you're voting, today, against the power of big businesses, then please be conscious that every dollar you spend at big businesses is a vote against your cause.  To support small businesses, cast your vote DAILY by shopping locally whenever possible.  (That's as much a reminder to myself as it is to you.)

You get my point.  The argument can be extended to whatever your hot topic is for this election.

I do not claim to know which candidate is better for you or for our country.

What seems blazingly obvious to me, though, is that if we took half the amount of passion we are using to defend our candidates in this election and applied that energy to conscious decisions in our own lives, we could do a hell of a lot more for our nation (and our world) than one president could ever do on his own.

Voting in an election is important but--please--let's not confuse ourselves into thinking we've done our part if that's all we've done for our causes.

Together, let's take a few more restorative happy-soul breaths in this safe haven and then let's charge forward while we rock the omnipotent everyday vote.

Let freedom ring, Light-Catchers.  For the children.

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How to Prepare for Hurricane Sandy: Reflections from Hurricane Irene

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I don't usually post on weekends, but with Hurricane Sandy rapidly approaching the northeast, I thought you might appreciate some notes I wrote to myself last year after spending seven days with a newborn and a toddler and no electricity.

Some of these are things that I WISH I had done before Hurricane Irene, and some of these are things that I ACTUALLY did.

Please know that even I look at this list and think I am exhaustingly hyper-vigilant.  Feel free to read it with some grains of salt.

But if you choose not to have a whistle on hand, please don't say you weren't forewarned when I sail past you with my family and my coffee in my warm and dry life boat.  :)

Things to do:

DO LAUNDRY, RUN DISHWASHER (you might not be able to for a while)

Fill car gas tanks

Fill propane tanks

Fill tub (and a few pots on stove) with water

EXERCISE (you want to go into this clear-headed)

Charge computer, cell phones, iPods, CAMERA, video cam, etc.

Fill gallon-sized freezer baggies 2/3 with water, place throughout freezer.  (When they freeze, they will keep freezer food cold for a long time.)

Turn fridge and freezer to max coldness (do this the night before the storm)

Prepare a few meals so no need to cook without power

Take photos of house before storm (might need them for insurance later)

Back up computer files

Waterproof important documents

Prepare basement for possible flooding (we made lots of "stilts" by cutting some 2x4's into small squares and nailing two squares together) - our area got hit really hard with flooding a few years ago)

Move cars out from under trees

Remove possible projectiles from yard (tie jungle gym to tree)

Pack bag for emergency departure (including IDs, insurance info, hard drives)

Purchase anything necessary for the above tasks and anything we don't have from the below list.

Things to have on hand:

INSTANT COFFEE

Battery-operated radio

Phone number for electric company

Sternos

9V batteries (for when smoke detectors start going nuts after a few days with no electricity)

Candles

Matches

Flashlights and batteries for them

PUC LIGHTS

Lots of clean water

Long grill lighter

LIGHT TO WEAR ON HEAD (my best friend during Hurricane Irene)

Local shelter address

Medicine

Reading material (for self and kids)

First Aid kit

Rain boots

Whistle

CASH

Back-up battery for phone (?)

Got anything to add?  I'd love to hear from you!  :)

Sh*t Just Got Real: Today is My Favorite Day

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Last week I told you that my favorite post of all time has not been sitting well with me.

While I LOVE the "Raindrops on Roses" post for its emphasis on appreciating the little things, and while I especially love the analogy where I describe playing in the rain as "an experience which is, like the rain, at once grounding and heavenly," what bothers me is that I think the "Today is my favorite day" quote is intended as a healthy perspective during a PROVERBIAL rainstorm.

Not necessarily during an ACTUAL rainstorm.

No matter; I shall give it another whack, Jack.

Today is My Favorite Day:  the New and Improved "Sh*t Just Got Real" Version.

(A true story of an everyday parenting "rainstorm" that took place last week.)

It's 6:30 pm and my patience is growing thin.

It's witching hour a la casa de Light-lovers and Mommy is counting the minutes until her beloved wee ones go nuh-nights.  T minus 2 hours.

Today is my favorite day.

I do not know what my 15-month-old wants.  She started yelling at me at 3AM and has BEEN yelling at me all the ever-loving day.  I pride myself on baby-whispering and yet today, I cannot soothe her.  Could it really still be a teething thing?  Maybe she is just head-strong, like her Momma.  Maybe she feels like an adult trapped in a baby's body, the way her Momma used to feel.  Regardless, I do not know how to satisfy her.  I feel like I am failing her.

Today is my favorite day.

I need these children to eat.  If they do not eat, they will not sleep, and I have a teleconference at 9pm.  They cannot be screaming during my conference call.  Why are they so hard to feed?  Do they not experience hunger, these children?

They nibble on scrambled eggs, peaches, toast, cheese, blue berries, watermelon, and three varieties of crackers while I choke on the words of the younger me: "MY children will eat vegetables whether they like it or not," said I.  WHAT DID YOU KNOW, YOUNGER ME??  NOTHING.  YOU DID NOT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT CHILDREN, YOUNGER ME WHO SAID THAT.

The parenting books do not agree on much, but they DO all draw a line in the sand when it comes to being a short-order chef for your kids.  "Do not do that," they say.  I am short-ordering the sh*t out of tonight's dinner and telling myself this makes me a bad and selfish mom.

Today is my favorite day.

One pain-staking hour of short-ordering and two-bite-meal-samplings later, I conclude that their bellies MUST have enough food to sustain them through the night--or at LEAST through my conference call.  I sigh relief and start cleaning the dinner mess while glancing at the clock: one hour remaining and three hours worth of tasks to complete.  I am no mathematician, but I know that equation doesn't work.

The muscles around my spine start twitching, which is always my flashing warning light that if I do not seek stress-relief quickly, my internal fuses shall blow.

Today is my favorite day.

I take some deep breaths while I clean the buffet of food from beneath my children's seats.  In my haste, I neglect to notice that my 15-month-old daughter is trying to make herself throw up, which is what she does when she wants my attention.

Today is my favorite day.

I catch her a minute too late, and as I plea with her to stop, I get splashed in the face with her projectile vomit.  She retches and retches and retches.  Where is this food even coming from?  She did not eat this much food.  She retches everything she has eaten over the last three days, at least.  She throws up so many times that my son starts dry-heaving.  I tell him to go into the other room so that she doesn't throw up on him.

My daughter laughs; she has my attention now.

Today is my favorite day.

T minus 45 minutes.  I still have work to complete, the kids are not ready for bed, and now there is a thick blanket of vomit covering our dinner mess.  I scoop up my daughter, strip her to her diaper, and press her vomit-ridden body to mine.  I love this strong-willed baby.

I breathe.

Today is my favorite day.

I run--literally--RUN to the basement to get a towel for her and as I descend the stairs I wish my husband were home.  While I'm lost in thought wondering whether he got his new tires tightened like the mechanic instructed, I forget that I have already armed our security system tonight.

Today is my favorite day.

One step into our messy-assed basement, happy-vomit-baby and I trip the motion detectors and an ear-shattering noise that is intended to piss off intruders and all humans and animals within a conservative three-mile radius echoes from every wall of our house.

Today is my favorite day.

I whip around and SPRINT back upstairs.  My son is screaming bloody murder.  When I had told him to go in the other room, he had climbed to the tip-top of the couch, and his head was directly next to the siren when it sounded.

My heart rips in half knowing that I caused his fear.

Today is my favorite day.

My daughter cries whenever she sees my son cry, so both children are now screaming.  In my desperation, I try to turn on the TV to calm them with Sesame Street while I take care of the police but the batteries on the remote have died and WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO BUTTONS ON TV SETS?  WHERE DID THEY GO????

The alarm company calls and, through the childrens' screams, they cannot hear me say that everything is okay.

My cellphone drops the call.

Today is my favorite day.

My phone beeps and I look to see if it's the alarm company but it's three texts from random family members--all somewhat-urgently requesting information.  One text is from a beloved family member who is letting me know she is on her way to come get something from me that I had promised her but have not yet prepared for her.

Today is my favorite day.

My back twitches.  I look at the clock, the dinner mess, the vomit, my phone, my work pile, my kids.  "FMP ['f*ck my plans']," I say; my task deadline was self-imposed anyway.

I breathe.

Today is my favorite day.

With a giant surrendering breath, I crumble to the floor and nestle my screaming kids into my vomit-ridden body.  One child curls into a ball between my criss-crossed legs, like a kangaroo in my "pouch," he says, and dries his tears on my pants.  My other baby lovingly slaps my face as she licks my cheek and lovingly coohs, "aaaaaaaahhhh," which I have come to know as her way of saying "I love you."

Today is my favorite day.

I am right where I need to be.  My children are comforted by my love, so all is right with the world.  I made the right decision by forgoing the other things that "needed" attention.  I have brought my heart to the right place.

I think this means I am a good mommy even though I am a short-order chef.

Today is my favorite day.

I inhale their love and am instantly transcended to a higher, calmer place.  I am grateful.  Grateful for my babies.  Grateful for my husband's job, even though it means he is away from us tonight.  I'm grateful to have a variety of food to offer my kids, even though they don't eat any of it.  I'm grateful to our alarm company and local police officers for making me feel safe.  I'm grateful for my flexible work schedule, and for my close relationships with my extended family members who are always willing to lend a hand if only I ask.

Today is my favorite day.

I'm especially grateful to be in a place in life where I don't give a damn about the fact that I am covered in puke as long as my kids are happy.

I wipe a happy tear from my eye.  Tonight has been, like the rain, at once grounding and heavenly.

Today.  OH, today.

TODAY is my favorite day.

A Beauty, An Update, and A Question

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Good morning, Catchers of Light!!

Three quick nuggets for you this AM:

1)  A Beauty

These photos of my sister make me catch my breath. They are so "HER."  I can feel her strength, her creativity, her pensiveness, her fierce passion for life, her silly side, the LIGHT of her BEING right through the photo.

That's what makes me breathe in suddenly when I look at these pictures.

When I take a photograph, I do my best to catch a glimpse of the person's soul.  My heart does a twinkle-toe fairy dance when my photos make people catch their breath.  The catching of the breath is pretty much my goal.

Maybe I should have named this site "www.catchingthebreath.com."  [Chuckles to self.]

If you want me to do photos for you that make you catch YOUR breath, contact me soon!  I am almost completely booked for the fall.  

(I limit the number of shoots I take so that I can provide a high-quality product to my clients (and a high-quality of sanity to myself.))

2)  An Update

Check out my new pricing page!  HOLLER!!!  I'm happy with the way it came out.

The links on that page are broken; thanks for bearing with me as I continue to build this site at the break-neck pace of only the fastest of snails.

3)  A Question

One of the web pages that I'm working on right now is my FAQ page.

Do you have any questions you would like to see answered?

I'm making two FAQ pages:

• one FAQ page for my photography business (ex:  How long will it take to massage, edit, and deliver my photos?  What should I wear?  Can you make my photos black and white but then add the color of our eyes back in?  etc.) and

• one FAQ page for the happiness theme of my blog.

I have not received as many questions related to the happiness / optimal living / self-improvement theme of the blog as I have received about photo shoots.  I'm trying to figure out whether this is because:  

a) people are uncomfortable asking questions along this subject line,

b) people would rather go somewhere else to discuss these things,

c) people have no interest in reading my thoughts on such matters,

d) people have the "happiest life" question figured out; I am the only person navigating this ship,

d) people very much enjoy the reflections on happiness that I'vebeensharing but they're just super busy (is all),

e) I have knocked the socks off of my readers and they cannot type responses, thoughts, or questions because they are too busy looking for their socks.

f)  None of the above.  (Insert reason here:  __________________________)

Care to weigh in on this?  Even just a one-letter response would be helpful.

If you ever have ideas on things I could improve or things that (come hell or high water) I MUST CONTINUE doing, I'm always receptive to both constructive feedback and praise.   :)  [Heh heh heh.  I was being serious about the constructive feedback.]

I love hearing from you peeps.

15 Extra Credit Points if you submit an FAQ for FAQ Page Number two.  (You just submit the Q and don't you worry yourself about whether it's F.A., you hear?)

Aaaaaaaaaaaand BEGIN!!!

My Qualms with Raindrops on Roses

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When I told you that "Raindrops on Roses and Laughter on Pungas" was one of my favorite posts I've ever written, I said so because:  1) it preserves a treasured memory, and 2) I think I was tapped into a wisdom greater than my own when I wrote it.

"...and I grabbed my boy so that he, too, could soak in this experience which is, like the rain, at once grounding and heavenly."

I'm sorry; what did you just say?  I couldn't hear you over the sound of how AWESOME that analogy is.

BUT.  (And this is a big "but," folks.)

[I like big "buts" and I cannot lie.]

BUT.  That post has been gnawing on my conscience for two years now.

Here's why:

One of my intentions in writing publicly like this is to provide new perspectives to help you (and me) embrace gratitude and optimism in all situations.

While the Punga rainstorm WAS a good example of living presently and optimistically, the whole thing was just a little too perfect to be a good illustration of the idea of "finding rainbows in the rain."

The rain is supposed to be proverbial for that saying to work.

Whoops.

Another reason that post makes me mildly uncomfortable is because it transports me back to a time when, by and large, I thought I had to hide the sad parts of myself from the world in order to be likable.  It brings me back to a (31-year) period when I thought that being a good person meant that I need to PRETEND to be happy even during the times when, deep inside of me, I did not feel happy at all.

[Side note:  "Fake it till you make it" IS a good mantra for a gloomy DAY, but it is obviously not a panacea for unhappiness.  Do not swallow your negative emotions, Lovies!  Accept and address them.  As Mastin Kipp so wisely pointed out in last week's Love University course, "Repression leads to depression!"]

After much personal exploration, I'm now realizing that optimism doesn't mean PRETENDING.  It entails ACKNOWLEDGING and BEING.  To be truly optimistic, we must lock pupils with our challenge, give it a valiant head-nod, and tenaciously CHOOSE GRATITUDE in spite of--no--BECAUSE OF our challenges.  

We cannot wait until it is light outside before we shine.  We must shine BECAUSE it is dark out.  We shine because the light is WITHIN us and the world needs us to let it out.

Capiche?

So:  try and try again, right?  I want another swing at my original idea for a "Today is my favorite day" post.

[Of course, I'm not gonna PRETEND to you that I am a flawless optimist at all times, but I do think I could step it up a notch with my writing--to illustrate what I mean about the "ACKNOWLEDGING" and "BEING" parts of optimism.]

GAME ON.

Tune in next Wednesday for:  "Today is My Favorite Day:  the New and Improved 'Sh*t Just Got Real' Version."

Smashing My Head on the Glass Ceiling of Happiness. (Observations to Help Us Get Happier.)

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I'm really good at rocking my fundamentals.  Except for those times when I'm not good at rocking them.

The last few days have been one of those times.

I've identified five "pillars" of personal happiness in my life:  regular exercise, a good night's sleep, a vegetable-heavy diet, creativity, and regular meditation.  There are other contributors too (connection with family and friends is a given and a loving avoidance of negativity always helps) but the first four items are my "pillars."

When I rock these fundamentals, I'm firing on all cylinders.  I'm ambitious, I'm gregarious, I'm funny, I'm effective, I'm quick to laugh, I'm energetic, I'm flexible, I'm "tuned in."  I jump out of bed in the morning with an enthusiastic fist-pump and (metaphorically) shout "YES!!" to life.

When I'm NOT rocking my fundamentals, I'm just...well..."meh."  I'm slower.  I'm quieter.  Instead of lassoing the world, I sorta just want to sit back and quietly observe.  I feel down on myself for my lack of ambition, but frankly I don't much feel like doing anything about it.

(As I type that sentence, Brian Johnson's sage voice pops into my head:  "And what does not feeling like it have to do with anything?"  UGH, Brian.  Pipe down, please.)

I read somewhere recently that if you are committed to writing, then you must write even when you don't feel like it and ESPECIALLY when you don't feel like it.

So:  today, I write.

I'll make it a quick observation.

Remember those old NutriGrain commercials where the woman eats a NutriGrain bar in the morning and "continues" making healthy choices all day long?  (She takes the stairs at work, skips dessert, goes to bed early, etc?)

I'm noticing that NOT rocking one's fundamentals has a domino effect, too.

A few days ago, I bought a half-gallon of espresso-chip ice cream because (congratulations, self!), I had been being really good about reducing my sugar intake and also:  I was PMS'ing.  Can't a girl get a little ICE CREAM once in a while?  For God's sake!!

The espresso chip before bed really screwed with my sleeping.  Which meant that I needed extra coffee in the morning.  Which meant that I wasn't super hungry at lunch, so I kinda skipped it.  Which meant that I needed a snack later, so I had some espresso chip ice cream.  Which meant that my energy levels were really low, and I hadn't missed a day of exercising in a while anyway, so I should probably give myself a break from the spin bike.  (And so on.)

If the NutriGrain people are correct, then one good decision leads to another good decision.  But it may be even more powerful to recognize thatone excuse begets many excuses.  

Let that be a lesson to me.

Brian (a new friend who also happens to be one of my mentors and an idols) encourages people to make incremental changes towards Optimal Living.  Instead of overhauling your entire life, he would ask you, "what is one thing that you KNOW you could START doing that would improve your life, and what's one thing you KNOW you could STOP doing?"

People are often looking for complex solutions to their unhappiness, when really they already know some obvious things they aught to be doing.

[Anything come to mind for you?]

A few months ago, Brian referenced the question above in passing.  I told him I KNOW I should START going to bed earlier and that I KNOW I should STOP eating so much sugar.

He reflected that the two are probably related.

(Man, he can sometimes be really annoying.  Can't I at least keep one of them?  Seriously!)

I told him that I am very cognizant of the fact that an early bedtime has an immense effect on my happiness, and yet, when 10pm, 11pm, and 12am roll around, I still resist going to bed and I don't know why.

"I'm a night owl," I justified.

"When it comes down to it," he said, "you're either going to commit to getting more sleep or you're not.  If you don't, know that you are putting a glass ceiling on your happiness potential."

If that wasn't an "AH-HA" moment, then I don't know what is.

A glass ceiling on happiness:  I'd never thought of it that way!

A word to any perfectionist or "all-or-nothing" readers who may be thinking, "but I'll never be able to rock ALL of my fundamentals ALL of the time!" (aka a "note to self"):

I have embraced Brian's wisdom, but am I executing it perfectly?  Clearly, no.  But flawless execution isn't necessarily the goal of self-improvement.  IMPROVEMENT is the goal of self-improvement.  Whereas previously it might have taken me MONTHS to realize I had broken my stride, this time it only took me a few DAYS.

That's an improvement.  Next time, it won't take me days.  (Hopefully.)

So where does this leave me?  The gym.  For real.  I am off to the gym, my Light-Loving friends.

I'm off to burst through that glass ceiling--like Mighty Mouse, but happier.  :)

***

Thoughts?  Suggestions for me?

What is one thing that you KNOW you could START doing that would improve your life, and what's one thing you KNOW you could STOP doing?

Where are you making excuses?

Raindrops on Roses and Laughter on Pungas.

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[Note:  I wrote this post two years ago (August, 2010) for my previous blog.  (SHOUT-OUT TO MY MOMMA GOOSE FANS!!)  While it's still one of my favorite posts, I now have a new perspective on it, which I'll share in a future post.]

[PS:  "Punga" is the way I used to refer to my son on my previous blog.  Not sure what I'm going to do on this blog, so let's stick with "Punga" for now.]

***

This summer, I’ve made a conscientious effort to mindfully appreciate all of the beauty that is a summer rain storm.  And there’s no better way to appreciate it than to drench yourself in it.

Most recently, the gray skies came quickly, and I grabbed my boy so that he, too, could soak in this experience which is, like the rain, at once grounding and heavenly.

Today is my favorite day.

We ran in circles with our arms spread like the wings of airplanes.  I did cartwheels around my boy, and I laughed at his laughter as he balanced himself in the grass, giddy and almost naked, except for a sagging diaper and tiny blue sandals.  Betwixt and between the cartwheels, mud oozed through my toes and fingers, tickling my skin, and Punga signed “more, more,” tickling my heart.

Today is my favorite day.

As if to applaud our decision to play in the rain, the universe threw us a frog to chase and the mosquitoes, miraculously, stayed away.  We danced in a puddle, splashing nutritious brown water on our legs.  Punga fell on his bum, his diaper soaking up puddle, yet he remained focused on the chorus of raindrops casting perfect ripples on his pool of rain water.  We threw mulch in the puddle and marveled at how it floated.

Today is my favorite day.

When the lightning came, I grabbed my boy and our shoes, and we ran inside, where the air conditioning chilled our wet skin to that level of cold that is too cold for winter but is just right for summer.  My buddy and I watched the lightning flashes through the window as our breath made fleeting circles on the glass, and he muttered wise, adorable nonsense in my ear.  It sounded like he closed with, “Thanks.”

Today is my favorite day.

Soon the entertainment value of a nearby diaper box trumped that of the rain storm for Punga, so he turned towards new adventures.  I smiled, watching him, replaying in my mind the 45 seconds he let me cuddle him in front of the window.

My cup of thankfulness is spilling over.  I’m thankful for my boy, thankful for the rain, thankful for everything that has come together to allow us to enjoy it.

Today is my favorite day.

[I decided to do a ”Today is My Favorite Day” blog category after I read this post by Kelle Hampton.]

***

Thanks for stopping by, readers!  Come say hello in the comments section of the blog!  :)

Set Your Heart--and the World--on Fire. (A Post Featuring Lil Wayne and Rumi.)

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I was going to town on an elliptical machine yesterday (and by that I mean I was working so hard that I ripped the elliptical right off its base and drove that thing straight into town...sort of) when something coincidental popped into my head.

I was (sort of) joking with friend and fellow philosopher Jakob Sokol last week about the fact that SOMETIMES (other times not at all but definitely sometimes) rap lyrics include great wisdom.  Jacob mentioned that, long before he found himself mesmerized by the learnings of the more respected philosophers of the world, he enjoyed the hidden wisdom in the lyrics of Tupac and the like.

I think what he was trying to say was that rap was like a gateway drug into philosophy for him.  (Sort of.)

I suggested that he blog about similarities between the two.

Fast forward to yesterday, when I was driving the elliptical machine into town.  I had just finished listening to a Philosopher's Note about Joseph Campbell (check out Philosophers' Notes immediately) and I had switched over to my favorite workout song of all time:  Let It Rock by Kevin Rudolf, featuring (I'm sort of embarrassed to say it)--Lil Wayne.

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Now here's the coincidence.  Not 30 seconds before (also on the elliptical but before taking it into town), I had underlined this quote in the Philosopher's Note (each audio file comes with a PDF):

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…which reminded me of one of my favorite quotes of all time:

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Are you seeing a theme here?  Rumi wants us to set our lives on fire.  Kevin Rudolf brings the fire, which apparently makes people come alive.

The way I see it, a heart on fire does not acquiesce to the status quo.  It CANNOT acquiesce.  It resolutely, feverishly, and unwaveringly seeks positive change.

Are you bringing the fire, my fellow Lovers of Light?   Are you following your bliss with the determination of a man whose hair is on fire seeks a pond?

Are the people in your life feeding your flames?

If not, when are you going to do something about it?

HOW MUCH TIME DO YOU THINK YOU HAVE?

Something is burning inside of you right now, my friends.  Something you KNOW you need to do.  I'm sure of it.  It's (sort of) the reason you are reading this right now.

Maybe you have a passion you want to pursue.  Maybe you need to tell someone you love them.  Maybe you need to apologize.  Maybe you have a great start-up idea for a non-profit organization.  Maybe you have suffered in some way and you know how you can prevent others from suffering the same way.

Maybe (fellow fiery soul), all of the above apply to you.

In any case, listening to that inner voice is going to be scary.  You are going to need a fiery conviction to keep you on track when you face inevitable set-backs.  (The fiery conviction can be readily available, since we've just established that you already have the flame.  You just need to fan it.)

If you think you don't know what is burning within you, please open your mind to the possibility that you actually DO know your inner fire; you might just be petrified to acknowledge it.

For the sake of the world, for our families, and for ourselves, let's commit--once and for all--to honoring these flames within ourselves tonight.

Before they burn out.

Tonight, my friends.

Tonight, we set the world on fire, starting with our own hearts.

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[audio http://www.bethanyo.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/We-are-young.mp3]

(Push play and turn up the volume!)

***

Tell me about the fire in you!

Or tell me about your favorite quote or lyrics!  I love to hear from you.

Feel free to share this with anyone who you think might enjoy it.

Thanks for reading!

Seasons Are Changing: Three Things You Might Want to Do about It.

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I am genuinely confused as to why there are pumpkins in the photos I'm editing today.

I mean, it's not uncommon for me to have pumpkins of the pinchable-cheek variety in front of my lens, but where did the orange ones come from?  Isn't it still summer?  (And by that I mean, like, summer of '99??)

Come to think of it--I think I have a science project due--TODAY!  [Brief panic.]

Unfortunately, the person who said that "time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana" was not only a lover of similes and wordplay; s/he was also correct.

The time, it is a-flyin'.

With that in mind, here are three things you might want to do about it TODAY:

1)  Revisit your resolutions.

It is not too late to make sure that your 2013 New Year's Resolutions don't have to be the same resolutions you made in 2012.

But soon it will be too late.

Get on it.

2)  Plan or book a photo shoot.

Don't shoot the messenger, but it's time to plan your holiday card photos.

I have a very limited number of sessions available for Oct/Nov, so if you are interested in doing a shoot with me this fall, please contact me sooner than later so that I can make sure to fit you in.

My pricing will be changing as of next Friday (October 5), and after that time, I will be focusing more on print sales than on the sale of digital files.  Therefore, if you are interested in a digital file package, consider scheduling a session now, as the price of digital files will be increasing significantly.

(Sessions after 10/5 can retain my current rate, so long as we agree on a date before the 10/5 deadline.)

3)  Get happy.

Hey, are you happy?  If not, what's holding you back?  When are you going to do something about it?

There are any number of great ways to approach these questions - leave a comment below if you need ideas.  The class I've been TA'ing/taking with Mastin Kipp this week (available now as audio files via the en*theos academy) would be a great place for anybody to start.

Frankly, I don't care HOW you figure out how to tackle whatever is holding you back.  I just care that you DO.

Because YOU ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME.

***

Thoughts?  I love to hear from you!  Leave a comment below (you can now do so anonymously if preferred), or let's strike up a convo on the Catching the Light Facebook page.  Or tweet me!

 (Regarding Twitter, I just recently figured out what all the fuss was about.  Now I love tweeting.  Tweet!!)

The Universe Will Not Be Ignored: Why It's Time to Address My Fears

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Isn't it interesting how the universe creates themes in our lives, like chapters in a book?

Right now my theme is fear.  I'm aware that I need to address the way I approach fear in my life, and all of a sudden, opportunities for learning about and practicing this are showing up everywhere.  Like fruit flies.

Some people identify the habit of noticing new things everywhere as a habit of the reticular activating system.  Some see it as a calling--a compass pointing you directly towards something the uni-verse needs you to address.  Still others cannot be bothered to think about the coincidences at all.

(Not for nothin', but maybe the people in Group 'C' are AFRAID of where those themes would lead them?)

What a coincidence.

For me, the fear theme started as a whisper.  That was back when, before launching this personal (yet public) blog and photography business, I was masticating the corresponding risks (including, but not limited to, financial uncertainties and the potential for thorough public embarrassment if either venture does a world-class face-flop.)

[Hey--remember when I told my fears to F--- off?  That's when the uni-verse was whispering.]

The whisper increased a decibel to the volume of "indoor voices" when not one but TWO people whose opinions I highly respect suggested that I read this book.

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I underlined, highlighted, starred, and dog-eared every one in the first 50 pages of "The Tools", including the part about how to reverse my desires so that I actually look FORWARD to facing my fears head-on, since the fears show me the path to a life of endless possibilities.

Then I put that book down and have not picked it up for three weeks because--that fear-chasing mumbo jumbo?  "That sh*t is whack!" said my scared subconscious.

The universe's "indoor voices" advanced to "outside voices" recently when, in a therapy session, I realized that fear has been a key player in a relationship challenge that I have been avoiding.

Subsequently, (because the universe, apparently, can be relied upon to wind up and bitch-slap you to attention if you ignore its whispers, indoor-voices, and outside-voices,) an INCREDIBLE opportunity landed at my feet.  Like a giant, wet fish.  THWOP.

Ever heard of Mastin Kipp?  Writer of The Daily Love?  You may have heard of him when Oprah Winfrey said "Thank you, Mastin Kipp, for helping me be brave," or when Marianne Williamson said, "Mastin Kipp is one of my favorite people."

Yeah, that guy.  He's teaching a class this week called "Discover the Wisdom of your Fear" and, without making too much of a big a deal about this, I have the opportunity to do some behind-the-scenes work with him for the class.

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["Do I have your attention now?" asked uni-verse.]

That you do, Uni-verse.  That you do.

So I'm going to be working on dismantling some fear-aversions this week.  I can't wait to report back to you about my journey.

If you want to join Mastin's class, sign up here!  It's a virtual class, and even if you can't make the assigned times, you can listen to the recording afterwards.  Plus, the good people at en*theos offer a pick-your-price pricing structure.

You pretty much can't say no.

Let me know if you sign up!  I'd love to pow-wow with you about it!

Let's wrap up today's post with a subtle fear-based warning:  If Mastin's class speaks to you but you decide NOT to take it, it is pretty much inevitable that the uni-verse will eventually bitch-slap you to attention.

Hopefully, she (uni-verse) will be as kind in seeking your attention as she was with me.

I cannot guarantee it.

(Disclosure:  I have personal and professional ties to the good peeps at en*theos, but I am not being paid to recommend this class.  I just think the uni-verse wants you to take it.  That is all.)  :)

***

Want to receive new Catching the Light posts via email?  Sign up in my side bar!

I promise not to spam you or sell your address:  girl scouts honor!  :)

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Mike Mulligan and the Subliminal Messages

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"Why are they making that hole so big and giant, Mommy?" he asks.

"Well, sweetie," I explained, "They are making that hole big and giant because they are going to build a big, giant building there.

'And the bigger a building is, the stronger its foundation needs to be."

And then I paused to absorb message #68,971 from the universe telling me I need to get more sleep.

***

How's your foundation looking, my friend?  Got any cracks?

I am right now publicly vowing that, for the next seven days, I am going to be in bed with a book by 10, asleep by 11.

Want to hop on board the accountability train with me?  What's one small thing you could do to strengthen your foundation over the next week?  

More sleep?  More exercise?  More veggies?  More meditation?  Less sugar / procrastination / self-doubt / tv / general-self-sabotage-shenanigans?

Make a 1-week baby step commitment with me!  If you tell someone you're gonna do something, you're more likely to do it!

WHO'S WITH ME??  :)

***

Also!  Want to receive an email when I publish a new post so that you don't need to remember to check back here?  See instructions below.

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The Only People for Me.

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I have never laughed out loud so many times while culling photos as I did when I was sorting through these shots of my cousin, David, and his groomsmen.

I laugh because when I look at these photos, I can actually HEAR these guys.  And let me tell you, they are hilarious.  And passionate.  And downright, wall-to-wall INSPIRING.

I had the distinct pleasure of spending the day leading up to David and Beth's wedding with these men.  The opportunity to be a fly on the wall of their magnetic friendships and to repeatedly belly laugh in a 14-passenger van with them while bopping along the Pacific Coast Highway will keep me forever grateful that I am a photographer.

These guys work hard, they play hard, they love big, they dream huge.

That weekend in LA, Jack Kerouac kept popping into my head:

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I recognize that I run the risk of confusing some potential photography clients by posting these wedding-day photos (since I am a family portrait photographer, not a wedding photographer), but in the end, you know what I really am?

A happiness photographer.

A "Let-It-Shine" photographer.

And these guys:  They let it shine.  My oh MY, do they let it shine.

Like a thousand fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.

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***

I always love to hear from you, my friends!  Make sure to say hello in the comments below!

Also, in Tuesday's post about self confidence, I mentioned that I recently had an epiphany in understanding why I have been so concerned with what people think of me.  I decided to push that post until next week.  If you liked the post "Let It Shine.  (OR:  The Post in which I Tell My Fears to F--- Off)" then I think you'll really enjoy next week's post.

Lots more thoughts to come soon on the brilliance that my cousin David and the rest of the genii at en*theos are bringing to the world.  I'm talkin' 'bout the mothahload of wisdom, folks.

Don't want to bother with checking my site for updates?  Sign up to receive new posts via email, yo!  Keep scrolling down for the sign-up box.

Have a deLIGHTful day, mad ones!!!

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Think You Are Stupid? Unworthy? LISTEN UP.

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It is more than a teensy bit distressing to me that several of the most genuine, thought-provoking, downright incredible people I am lucky to know are of the opinion that they, personally, are "stupid."

Knowing the plentitude of brilliance and wisdom these fine humans contribute to our world, I ask myself where the stupidity belief comes from.  Do they think this because of comments from teachers or classmates when they were young?  Did their low grades in school make them think that they are unintelligent?  Is it because they didn't go to college?

OR do they (or did they once) actually recognize the brilliance that I see in them?  And are they afraid that if they OWN that brilliance, people will point fingers at their bad grades and informal educations, thereby exposing them to the world as frauds?   

IS IT SCARIER FOR PEOPLE TO OWN THEIR BRILLIANCE THAN IT IS FOR THEM TO LABEL THEMSELVES AS STUPID (OR [INSERT OTHER NEGATIVE LABEL HERE])?

[Sad sigh.]  Ahhhhh, friends.  I think these divine folks of whom I speak are subconsciously afraid to shine.

[I am no stranger to the fear of shining.  In fact, for a long time, I hesitated to launch this very website because I believed I did not deserve to model the "Let It Shine" mantra.  (More on that subject in my next post.)]

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Want to know the worst part about the being afraid to shine?

Our eyes adjust to darkness.

After enough repetitions of telling ourselves that we are stupid (or undeserving or cowardly or ugly or whatever), we actually BELIEVE we ARE those things.

The more we smother out light, the more our pupils dilate.  We adjust to the environment of the dark cave that we built to "protect" us.

Before long, we get so lost in that dark place of misplaced brilliance that we forget what it was like to be bright.  We even IDENTIFY with the darkness.  This negative trait?  It's just who we are, we poor things.

Suddenly, this scary cave that we do know feels safer and more comfortable than the oppressively bright, now unfamiliar light outside.

So when someone notices our brilliance or our beauty or our courage, thereby shining a ray of light on our dilated pupils, we clamp our eyes shut in horror and throw our palms at them in protest.  [The audacity of those light-shiners!]

I mean, SURE, it would be NICE if the light-shiners were RIGHT about us, but can't they see?  We are cave dwellers.  Cave dwellers do not shine, silly light-shiners.  We hide.

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By this point, we have forgotten that we once perceived this place of negative self-talk as being dark.

We have forgotten that we were never meant to be cave dwellers in the first place.

What I am trying to say is that hiding our strengths from others is DANGEROUS grounds.  When we modestly or fearfully hide our brilliance from others, we not only encourage them to do the same, but WE ALSO HIDE OUR BRILLIANCE FROM OURSELVES.

Here's the kicker.   Most of us build our lives around a fear of shining without ever even knowing it. 

We swipe the rug directly out from under our own feet and WE DO NOT EVEN KNOW WHAT HAPPENED.    We lay there in our cave corners, confused and depressed from a lack of Vitamin D, deliriously BELIEVING that we are actually stupid or weak or whatever.

I sad-sigh again because I know that some cave dwellers are SO deep in the cave (been there!) that they will read this post and think it does not apply to them.  (Don't let this be you, Sweet Reader!  I repeat:  Do NOT let this be you!!)

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It took me a good 17 years of therapy and radical self-analysis to realize that I was afraid to let it shine.  Now I see it all around me.

SO, my Brilliant, Gorgeous, Deserving of Goodness Reader:  what positive qualities are YOU not owning?  Perhaps you are willing to proclaim your intelligence, but do you discredit your COURAGE?  Do you downplay your WISDOM?  Do you trivialize your INNER BEAUTY?

WHY????

I do not ask you to demolish your Caves of Self-Sabotage right this minute.  I don't even ask you to know how.

All I ask is that you recognize that these negative things you think of yourself?  Maybe--just maybe--they are not true.

Maybe--just maybe--you made them up.

Maybe--just maybe--you did so because at one point in your life, you were afraid to shine.

Your willingness to take one brave baby step today by recognizing that?

That willingness shows that you are nothing short of brilliant.

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***

Want to worry less about what people think of you?  Tune in for my next post, and I'll hand you a key to unhinging that mind-trap.

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As always, I very much appreciate your comments and your willingness to share this!  (I want my posts to help as many people as possible...and I need your help to make that happen!)  :)

***

Let It Shine. (OR: "The Post in which I Tell my Fears to F--- Off.")

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Marianne Williamson has lost her marbles.

Or at least that's what I thought when I read her famous "Powerful Beyond Measure" quote for the first time (in 2001.)

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.  Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure."

I cocked my head like a confused dog.  So…what you are trying to say is that my deepest fear is that I am powerful?  "Powerful beyond measure," in fact?

Sorry, Sweet-hot.  You are forgetting the answers.

I have a lot of fears, you see.  A wicked lot of them.  In fact, I try to give myself a false semblance of control over said fears by obsessively compulsively doing entirely illogical things like inhaling when hearing good news and exhaling when hearing bad news (so as to welcome the good and protect myself from the bad; obvi.)

Accordingly, I am no stranger to my fears.  I have made my list, I've checked it thrice, and--let me tell you one thing--the fear of being powerful beyond measure?  It's not on here.  Access to Scary Club O' Fears:  DENIED.

But that was a whole 11 years ago.  When I heard the Powerful Beyond Measure quote at a leadership retreat in 2001, I had myself so convinced of a subconsciously fabricated story that I actually THOUGHT I HAD THINGS FIGURED OUT!

We might call that time my "Pinnacle of Delusionment."

During said Pinnacle of Unenlightenment, I was maintaining a 3.96 GPA at Boston College (delusion #1:  "I am lovable because I am smart"), exercising two hours a day (delusion #2:  I am beautiful because I am in shape), and volunteering 12 hours a week (delusion #3:  I am a good person because I do nice things).  I was participating in a host of extracurricular activities [you fill in the delusions now; I'm tired of that exercise.]  I was partying late and lots because that's what college kids are "supposed to" do, I was exploring the art of flirtation to lure men into my net and was relishing the power that came with denying them what they wanted (playah, please:  I am sexy but I am not easy.)

Generally, I was basing my entire self-worth off of other peoples' checkboxes, because--hell--I was good at checkbox-checking.

And I like being good at things.

Plus, I was happy.  I mean, wasn't I?  Well, sure--I spent a lot of time crying behind closed doors, which should have been one of many easy-assed clues that something was wrong, but I can write off crying to PMS at least three out of every four weeks in a month.  Plus, maybe I secretly (and I am just realizing this right this minute)--maybe I subconsciously actually LIKED that I cried a lot.  I mean--doesn't that fit the profile of Overachieving Collegiate Female--a role that I unconsciously hand-picked and clung to in order to mask my lower feelings of inadequacy and unlovability?  I mean, if you're an Overachieving Collegiate Female and you're not crying a lot, then--let's just stop whacking around the bush here--you're probably not much of an overachiever, now, are you?  Get out there and champion another cause, girl.  Stress yourself out 'til you crumble.  THEN--and only then--can you check the overachiever box, Sweet Thang.

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It wasn't until the blessed tides of childbirth came crashing into my shores in 2009 that it became undeniably clear that my castle of "I've got things figured out" was built upon pillars of sand (pillars of sand, pillars of sand.)  At some point during my postpartum maelstrom, it occurred to me:  "Holy hell.  I am no longer just a student of life.  Now I am also a teacher."

Did I have the mettle to deserve that medal?  There is no application process to becoming a biological parent (oh, Injustice, you really are an evil bitch), so, since no one else was determining whether I was fit to mother, I was forced to ask myself the difficult questions.

Could I be a good role model for this precious child?  I'm not talking about modeling the easy things.  I know I can teach him not to litter, to pay his taxes, and (so long as I buckle down some serious self-discipline) there's probably also some hope that I can teach him to share and not to swear.

But can I model self-confidence?  Can I stand in my own skin--fully conscious of a plethora of flaws and also conscious that I'm not even conscious of ALL of my flaws--can I stand in that authenticity and shout with the ferocity of a freedom warrior, "I LOVE ME!!!!!" without feeling undeserving, boastful or inauthentic? 

The answer to those questions was also a resounding "no," which was excellent news for my therapist.  Let's just say I've seen a lot of her since then.

Fast forward three more years.  I've done (and am still doing) the work.  I've cried, I've sweated, I've shaken.  I've lied to myself.  I've yelled, I've laughed, I've sobbed.  I've cut through those lies.  I've researched theories, tried new techniques.  I've done well with some, I've done poorly with others.  I've punched, I've bled, I've fallen.  I've gotten back up.  I've pushed people away, I've kept my guard up, I've knocked those same walls down.  I've read, I've workshopped, I've reflected.  I've prayed, I've meditated, I've begged.  I've listened.  I've paid attention.  I've identified my fears.  And slowly--slowly and magnificently surely--I am learning what it feels like to truly love myself.

I like it here.

I like it a lot.

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What do I have to say to Ms. Williamson now?  For starters, this:  YES!!!  OMG--YES--MARIANNE!!!!  YES, YES--FROM THE ROOFTOPS--YES!!!!!  Our deepest fear IS that we are powerful beyond measure!!!!!

All along, I thought I was an overachiever when really I wasn't achieving at all.  Afraid of failure, criticism, isolation, and inadvertently insulting those who are smothering their own lights, I was distracting myself from the things I was meant to be by vigorously pursuing the things that I thought put me in the best light with others.  I pursued the things that felt the safest.

I, the "overachiever," was actually doing everything within my power to KEEP myself from achieving.

I distracted myself from my inner wisdom because pursuing the things that we were born to pursue?  That shit is scary.  The stakes are high and success is contingent upon a willingness to be vulnerable.

Me?  I do a lot of things, folks, but I do not do vulnerable.

If I DO go there--if I DO honor that voice of my heart and my soul and truly let myself shine, then I'm going to have to shed all of the "tools" that I have developed to "protect" myself for so long.  My "tools" of perfectionism, independence, and nose-to-the-grindstone productivity distractions are comfortable to me.  For all intents and purposes, they've been rather useful, too.  Without them, I am a swordsman without a sword.

I could really get hurt, folks.

But if I DON'T honor my inner voice?  Well, now.  That's even scarier.  If I DON'T strip out those old behaviors and let myself feel vulnerable, then I will be trapped in my bad habits for the rest of my life.  I will never be able to say honestly that I think I am improving.  And I will never be able to model--for my son and also now for my daughter--what it looks like to be a strong, comfortable-in-my-own-skin, self-loving person.

The fear of THAT?  The fear of that throws kerosene on the fire inside my soul.  It's why I'm writing today.

So, here I am.  Me.  Bona fide, certified.  My intention with this blog is to courageously show you my authentic self so as to continue my own personal growth and also to educate, entertain, and inspire others to live their most authentic lives and achieve their highest potentials, too.

In this post and with future posts, I would like to work towards eliminating the secrecy surrounding depression.  It's difficult enough to experience the sadness; we need not bundle secrecy and shame on top of it.

So let's stop hiding our struggles from each other; mmmmmmkay?

HERE'S WHY:  as soon as we hide ANY PART of ourselves from the world, we are in direct and imminent danger of believing that we--the ESSENCES of who we are as individuals--are unlovable.   Fearing that drawing attention to ourselves will allow others to see and confirm our unlovability, we avoid standing out from the crowd for ANY reason--good OR bad--so we hide the GOOD parts of ourselves from the world, too.

We stop shining.

THAT, my friends, is precisely what the world does NOT need.

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I now see that what I once perceived as my biggest weakness (a tendency towards depression) is actually my biggest strength.  It has led me to a level of self-awareness (via extensive self-analysis) that I would never have endured without the fear of darkness nipping at my heels.  My personal challenges make me more compassionate and understanding towards others.

And they sure as hell make me appreciative of all of the goodness surrounding me.

Dare I say it?  These parts of me that I always believed made me unlovable, unattractive, bad and unworthy?  These are the very same parts of me that CONTRIBUTE to how lovable, attractive, good and worthy I am.  They MAKE me beautiful.

If my writing, my optimism, or my willingness to let myself shine can help ONE other person get to where I am standing right now (on the other side of darkness, though admittedly always actively evading its prowl), then every criticism or judgment I may incur on this vulnerable journey will have been worth it.

As Marianne Williamson says, "As we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same."

I believe that.  I believe that, regardless of whether you are aware of it, whether you are nourishing it, whether you are pretending to honor it but are really ignoring it, or whether you are distracting yourself from it--no matter what--you have a light inside of you.

I believe your light is powerful.  Powerful beyond measure, in fact.

Do you believe that?

If you are cocking your head like a confused dog right now, (as I did, originally), do not pressure yourself to absorb all of this at once.

Today I just want to plant a seed in your head.

[If we were having this discussion/monologue in person, I would be shaking you by the shoulders right now--desperately--as if you are asleep but I am afraid you are dead.  Hear the urgency in my voice:]

What if you ARE powerful beyond measure?  What if every fear standing between you and your optimal life was planted there by YOU--subconsciously but intentionally--to prevent yourself from being all that you can be?  Is it possible that you are AFRAID to let yourself shine?  

[Hint:  answer = "yes."]

Consider it, friend.  Because I have not lost my marbles.

And neither has Marianne Williamson.

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***

Thanks for reading, friends!

I'm gonna be honest.  It was very scary for me to publish this.

I'm posting it anyway because I really hope it speaks to at least one person.

If this post moved you at all, or if you think someone else might benefit from it, I would be very grateful if you share it (Facebook, email, Twitter--however!) so that my chances of reaching the people who aught to read it are increased.

Many thanks!!!!!

Love and light,

B

***

Turn It Up. And Make It Happen.

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I wouldn't say that I was "depressed" at 11:30pm on December 31, 2011, but I wasn't exactly polishing up my noise maker either.

"Heavy" is the word that is coming to mind.  Glum.  Mostly heavy.

I had lost my much loved, vibrant Grandmother in early December,  and mourning her had hit me even harder than I had expected.

[Incidentally, why do we mourn*?  I get that we are sad, but can we name WHY?

Are we sad for the person we loved and lost, or are we sad for ourselves?  If we believe our lost loved one is in a better place (I do), are we grieving the fact that he or she will be denied any future life experiences, or are we actually criplingly fearful that we will never be able to feel whole again--esentially mourning our own happiness?

I'd wager that it's both (and circumstantial), and that there are distinctly different ways of addressing each, but in regards to today's post, this rogue tangent is neither here nor there.]

My point is that I was feeling analytically heavy on New Year's; the loss of my grandmother had left me reflecting thoroughly on life in general, her life, and mine.

Was Memere content with her life when she passed?  Would she have done things differently?  What led her to make the decisions she had made throughout life?  In some ways, she had followed in the footsteps of the generations who had come before her.  In other ways, she had followed her heart, abandoned the path that had seemingly been paved for her, and created a new destiny for herself.

And what about me?  Yes, I am generally very happy with where I am in life, but how have I shaped my expectations for myself?  Did I shape them simply from a combination of love, precedence, inertia, and risk-avoidance?  Or could I say unwaveringly that I have followed my calling and done EVERYTHING my soul has encouraged me to do?

You know, in the movies, when somebody is about to die, and they flash through a bunch of scenes from that person's life?  Well, if that really happens, then when I die (hopefully a very long time from now), I think 12:05am on 1/1/12 will be one of those scenes.

When we were not sleeping by 11:55pm on New Year's Eve (although we had fully intended to be…I mean, you see one ball drop and you've seen them all, am I right or am I right?), my husband suggested we turn on the tv to watch the countdown.

Watching the celebration in Times Square, I felt detached.  Not depressed…quietly hopeful, in fact.  But definitely. Completely.  Detached.  And heavy.

That was until 12:05am when NBC played Beyonce's, "I was here," and every hair on my body sprung to full attention.

I knew I had work to do.

Listen to this song.  Crank the volume.  REALLY crank it.

[audio http://www.bethanyo.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/I-was-here1.mp3]  [Beyonce - Live at Roseland - click here for youtube video.]

Now tell me what you need to do, so that at the end of your life, these words** will hold true for you:

 I want to say I lived each day until I die

And know that I meant something in somebody's life

The hearts I have touched will be the proof that I leave

That I made a difference, and this world will see

I was here

I lived, I loved

I was here

I did, I've done everything that I wanted

And it was more than I thought it would be

I will leave my mark so everyone will know

I was here.

That's what I'm going to say at the end of my life.  And I think it's what Memere would have said of hers.

 ***

*I [THANK GOD/UNIVERSE/BUDDHA/DIVINE SPIRIT/WHOMEVER IS LISTENING] am infinitely grateful to have only experienced mourning from the perspective of a grandchild.  I respectfully recognize that my own reflections may seem naive to anyone who has ever lost someone who was not separated from them by a generation, and--in case the universe is listening--I beg that I remain naive on this subject for a very, very long time.

**Lyrics found 

here

.

***

The First Step to the Boogie-Woogie

So I've been intending to start this blog for a good eight months now.

I've been sparring with various forms of resistance (fear of putting myself "out there," perfectionism, procrastination, and being "too busy" have been amongst my most valiant competitors.)

My excitement for the intentions behind this blog is paralleled only by overwhelm.  I'm literally dizzy with thoughts, but, unlike for a drunk person, when I cling to the furniture it doesn't help me to steady the horizon.

So what do I do about it?

In 1947, my grandfather was forced, due to political insurgence, to leave his home and possessions in Algeria--a country he loved until the day he died. He came to America empty-handed and against his will, but despite those and other challenges, he built, from the ground up, a thriving cabinet-making business through which he eventually supported not only his own seven kids, but many other family members as well.

And he didn't even know a lick of English for his first five years in this country.

Me? I know at least several licks of English.  I think you'll agree that this puts me at a serious advantage in pursuing my own American dream.

So I ask myself:  WWPD?  (What Would Pepere Do?)

When my parents began their business in 1977, Pepere gave them the same simple but sage advice that he would be giving me right now.

"Just put one foot in front of the other," he said.

And maybe that IS the best way to steady the horizon when you're dizzy.  Focus forward, and put one foot in front of the other.

So, here I go. This post is my one foot.  One short, simple, but significant foot.

(PS:  Telegram to Resistance:  "WINNING!!  (Stop.)")

~*~

How are you battling resistance right now? What would be a good (small) first step in overcoming it?

~*~