My work on becoming a human BEing not a human DOing is starting to kick in. Been working with a life coach/spiritual director. Three weeks ago my assignment was to start living by this mantra alone: “No efforting, only allowing” rather than all the thinking, reading, talking and straining I was in the habit of. First I had to deal with the bad grammar. Decided I liked it because the awful word “efforting” pulls me right down out of monkey mind every time. I tried it on. Every time I felt all pushy and hyper, I told myself, “No efforting, only allowing.” Oh, my. Gets me right where I needed to be living. In the God place. And it’s taking me deeper. For the longest time I’ve been terribly fretful about the quality of my meditation time. It just seemed too hard to sit in quiet contemplation. I could sit on the train the morning for that hour, read, write, meditate, listen to guided imageries. But anywhere else (except on the beach or in the woods but I can’t or don’t always get to those places) I get all fidgety and jumping and first thing I know I’m unloading the dishwasher, texting someone or making to-do lists); and while the train meditations are great, there are certain limitations. I wanted to spend more time improving my conscious contact with my higher power. But I’d been going about it in a less than effective way, pushing, straining, trying, trying trying. No efforting, only allowing. By stopping all that effort, I started permitting my higher self to be heard. Just tonight I found myself in my little meditation corner in the basement, drawn there not by some magic tractor beam of white light, or pushed there by some great surge of will and effort, but because I allowed myself to follow the little voice that came, while I was putting in a load of laundry, and said, “Just try it.” And so I did, and I lit some candles, settled the dog on her special blanket and sat for a few minutes of sincere, dedicated, intimate contemplation. How cool is that? No efforting, only allowing.

There have been many, many times in my personal growth adventure when I’ve had my breath taken away by the sheer terror, yes, of opening to joy. The human mind, through evolution, is wired to go to the negative. Add to that plenty of negative life experiences, and you’ve got skittishness when the miracles start happening. There’s where we have to take the leap. Be really, really brave and feel that deep, deep joy down in our hearts. I’ve been listening to Belleruth Naprestek’s CD “Overcoming Trauma.” It’s a guided imagery through your heart; first the broken, awful places. Then, a tunnel of bright light, where you go deep down in to your gorgeous and true heart. The first time I tried to listen to this, two years ago, I had to stop. Too scary! But as I continue my work, I get braver, and I’ve been making it part of my routine in my morning commute. I have dared to go into the deep and beautiful part of my heart–and there is sustenance there! But it’s not an easy trip, not a bit. So necessary though. When we lean on people places and things for our sense of who we are and what matters, we set ourselves up for a fall. When we recognize the native love in our own hearts, we are able to see the same in the people, places and things around us and connect without losing ourselves. We experience love and wholeness. Worth the trip!

I’ve been asking around and I still don’t have an answer. How or where do you experience your higher power? Is it something you feel in your body? Think in your mind? Experience between the in and out breath? I remember the very first clue I had on my quest to fully experience a spiritual connection. A mentor asked me, “When you know you’re on the right track, when things are going well, where do you experience it?” I pointed to my solar plexus, explaining that it was a cool, clear, relaxed spot about there. “That’s God,” she said. I’ve been building on that insight ever since, showing up to pray and meditate, do some kindnesses, and then doubling back to see what in me is being fed and where. A lot of us foodies (and addicts in general) aren’t especially present in our bodies; as I get more in touch with mine, I’m more and more training myself (with the help of another mentor) to experience the moment through my all senses. And now the question where working on is also, where am I experiencing God? It matters not because I have to analyze everything, but because I want this place to grow bigger and stronger and ever more present. The more I show up to honor it with solitude, prayer and meditation, the more it grows, and the more it feeds me, and the more useful I can be to myself and others. But I still crave understanding. Where do you experience God…not under what circumstances, but where in your self? Inquiring souls want to know! xox

There is a group of activist monks somewhere who work with the poor. And a rule of their order is that they must have time for prayer and meditation in this pattern: An hour a day, a day a week, a weekend a month and a week a year. I haven’t quite hit that mark yet, but I am back from a week rambling through upstate New York. First a few days in the Adirondacks, then a couple in rural Chenango County (near the Finger Lakes), polished off by two days near Oneonta, New York for a family wedding. With all that running around there was still plenty of time to just sit reading, writing and staring. So restorative! The only way I know of to hear that still small voice through the mind-chatter every brain churns out. My regular daily meditation practice still needs work—when I’m on my everyday schedule, it’s tough to eke out more than a few minutes morning and night. Yet the more I do, the more I want to do, because I feel deeply, deeply fed and what didn’t make sense begins to. And I am reminded who I really am in the eyes of the universe, beyond all the trials and tribulations of  my  worldly life.

Most of us know this serenity prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Awesome, right? There were whole chunks of my life where that, or the part of it that felt most necessary and true in the moment, became each day’s mantra. A few years back a dear friend ask me about changing the things I can. Should things just be changed because they CAN be changed? the friend asked. Hmmm I thought. The answer came in the book, The Wisdom to Know the Difference by Eileen Flanagan. Eileen dug out the original text: “God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, courage to change the things that should be changed, and wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.” Wow. Much more nuanced and humble, right? I love it that the emphasis is on discernment when it comes to the can I/should I decision. And to pray for grace? That for me says it all.

“Rehashing old hurts is like watching the same movie over and over, hoping for a different ending. It’s not going to happen! Learn from it and move on. You don’t drown by falling into the water, you drown by staying there.” I don’t know the source of this quote (a friend sent it to me), but it’s an awesome thought. Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. It’s human nature to get stuck, but we don’t have to stay stuck. I’ve learned to pray every day for two weeks for anyone I resent, that they receive in their lives what I want in mine. I keep it simple: “May she receive joy and the roots of joy.” That exercise keeps me from slip-sliding out of the moment, where my life is happening, right here, right now. Forgiveness has to factor in, also. Theoretically, once I’ve forgiven someone, I shouldn’t have to do it again. If the resentment comes back, then the forgiveness wasn’t complete. For today, I’m content to make forgiveness a process not an event. And, maybe, to forgive myself for not being better at forgiveness!

A friend gave me a wonderful piece of advice: She suggested I try a 21 day spending fast, where I buy only what I need. Because I am so sick of worrying about money, I decided to give it a try. What a liberation! In some really deep way, my commitment to asking myself, “Do I really need this?” slows me down to make mindful decisions about what I’m about to do, whether it’s put a dollar in the subway musicians basket, spend 7.99 on a salmon fillet or go away for a weekend in Cape May. Slowing down to discern whether I’m experiencing a need rather than a want allows me to feel more deeply that my needs are being met. Repeatedly discerning a need, then saying “yes” to it is so powerful! It overrides any sense of rebellion about not going for what I want. It also means that I’m seeing the freedom of not thinking the answer to all my problems is more, more more. I have enough, I do enough, I am enough! Such a simple exercise. So powerful! I’m going to keep doing it. The mental clarity is such a grace!

I think the compulsive overeater/food addict’s deepest terror, the nothing’s-ever-enough panic, is fueled by a horrible sense of deprivation, that she’ll never get what she needs. Very primal; probably related both to how we were born–a tendency to self-medicate–and how we were treated–raised by wounded people who hadn’t had their own needs met and who didn’t know how to meet ours. When we understand how to get our needs met, the terror subsides, and we can have a happy, useful life.

There are a lot of ways it’s a pain being a stubborn, willful person, but I’ll tell you it can also be an asset. If I direct all that energy to finding and following healthy ways to grow and live as fully as possible, that’s all to the good. I don’t have to be perfect. I don’t have to do it all today. I can’t control what comes at me out of the blue. But I can set boundaries for myself and others, around my food and everything else, from what I commit to doing with and for others to how much sleep I get. One day at a time. Some days it’s easier than others. Some days I get to soar. Other days, the best motto is, “Right foot, left foot, breathe.”

Unnecessary fear is the great enemy of equanimity. (Necessary fear is the warning that tells you to take action and avoid danger; unnecessary fear is the old stuff that bleeds through to the present.) I’ve been working hard with the daily meditation book from Emmet Fox. A member of my peer support group gave it to me and I could not be more grateful. I open it the moment I wake up and turn on the light in the morning. He’s all about replacing anxious, terrified thoughts with thoughts of God. Whenever you feel scared, he teaches, just put your thoughts on your higher power, whatever you call it.

I’m also practicing feeling the love. For years I was mostly numb, first with the food, then by mentally clamping down my emotions. Even when I became willing to feel the love that’s all around, I had to learn how. Now I’m learning to slow down my breath; remember the sensations in my body of golden, joyful moments small and large, with my children, with a beautiful sunset, with my dear husband, with my fluffy adoring dog, with dear friends and even friendly strangers, and summon up the great love that nourishes me more than any substance, food, event, person or accomplishment ever could. It’s a practice, a habit to develop that is already beginning to kick in by itself. You do something often enough and it begins to do itself inside you, I’ve found. You remind yourself of love, and love begins to remind you of it. And the more I go to this place and look for the miracles, the more miracles I experience. Yes, there is heartache and heartbreak all around us. We’ve all got a story. But when I go to the love, I am healed, I am empowered, and I stand a better chance of living the happy, useful life I know is my primary purpose here on earth.

How funny it is to have people assume I gorged yesterday on turkey and all the trimmings–and of course dessert. Not me! I am so blessed to eat the same way 365 days a year. I’ve been doing it so long that, gracias a Dios, it would feel really weird not to. This is a testament to building new habits. I had a humble, delicious meal of red beans and rice. And not stuffing myself silly in no way interfered with my ability to be grateful! I have so much to be thankful for, including that I have the will, the clarity and the desire to look around me and see all that’s good, kind, beautiful and generous. Lest it seem I’m a real Pollyanna, let me also say that I struggle to stay away from unnecessary judgments of others. This is where continuing on the spiritual learning process really comes in. Accepting others, setting boundaries where necessary, as kindly as possible, this is how I live on the human plane. And it’s a job some days, let me tell you! Other people don’t want to do things my way! Can you imagine that? Nothing to do but settle back down into my own energy, feel that core of God-given strength, and operate from there. Thank goodness–while my higher power is always with me and in me as me (with thanks for that thought that way to Elizabeth Gilbert who wrote Eat, Pray, Love), I am not in charge. For today–the morning after all the hullabaloo–I’ll just keep doing the next right thing and leave the rest up to bigger, wiser forces than mine.