I want to take a few moments to toot my own horn a bit.
Yesterday at a festive Memorial Day gathering of good friends, I stepped up in front of the crowd, ready to make a fool of myself.
What did I do? I performed the song I wrote last year. I stood there with my guitar and a microphone, with nothing to hide behind, played the song…and the world didn’t end.
Now what’s the big deal with playing a song? Thousands of people do that every day. For me, though, it was the first time ever. I’ve played guitar in bands for years; most recently, I’ve been backing up my friend and singer, Jim Stevens. But that’s the point. I’m comfortable (relatively so) in the background. The thought of performing solo — especially since I’m not a singer — was terrifying.
And right up until the point where I started playing the song, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it. The only reason I think it happened is because I made no official announcement that I was beginning. There was no big “oh my God I’m about to do this” moment. I just started playing while people were talking, and before I knew it, the show had begun.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t nervous. Even when I messed up the guitar part in the second verse. I smiled at Jim (who smiled back), got my bearings in the song, and continued. My friend, Kelly, stepped up behind me to do some vocal harmonies. It all unfolded naturally, comfortably.
Even though there was no big moment of decision, I did have a little conversation with myself about 10 minutes before I started. On the verge of deciding not to perform, I imagined myself in bed later that night, and I knew that I’d regret it if I didn’t give it a shot. And then a voice spoke to me. “Don’t be afraid to make a fool of yourself. That’s the most important lesson you’ll learn in your life, Curtis.”
My singing was timid and off-key more than it was confident and on-key, but so what? I did something I’ve always wanted to do. I took something that was outside of my circle of life experience and brought it within. And I discovered it was safe for me to be a fool.
Each one of us has things we’re comfortable with and things we’re not. Too often the line between the two can feel like a wall, impossible to climb. But the wall is imaginary, and all it takes to cross that line is a single step forward.
This past weekend I had a strong feeling expressed as this thought: I don’t want to live, yet I don’t want to die. I wasn’t sure what it meant at first and worried that it might be a sign of a dangerous depression or something. But I think what it means is this:
I don’t want to live the life I’ve been living.
It makes me think of reincarnation. Now I think reincarnation is a silly idea in any literal sense, but I love it as a metaphor. We die and are reborn in each moment. What do we learn from moment to moment, and do we repeat our mistakes or do we grow from our “past lives”?
I’ve learned that I’ve tended to see life as being outside of me, either out in the world or out in the future. I need to bring it in closer.
Case in point: Clients and friends tell me often how I’ve changed their life for the better. That used to be very meaningful to me. I felt good about making a positive contribution in the world. I even used contribution as a big part of my business vision and life mission.
Recently, though, my thought upon receiving someone’s gratitude for the difference I’ve made in their life is, “So what?” What good does that do me? It doesn’t put money in my pocket, it doesn’t get me a girlfriend, etc., etc. This may sound mercenary, selfish, and shallow, but I think there’s a breakthrough in there if we look closer.
Let’s say I water a flower and it blooms. I can take credit for my contribution and say, “Look at what I did,” and feel good about it and build up my ego from it. Or I can say, “So what? What good does that blooming flower do for me?” In the context of a flower (instead of a friend or client) both of those options seem silly. And, more importantly, it opens me to a third possibility:
I can simply enjoy the experience of witnessing a flower bloom.
The experience is what’s important because that’s what life is, an experience. When I say “bring life in closer” what I mean is focus more on my experience right now, in every now.
In this context, contributing is not what I give to someone; contributing is an experience I have.
When I said I don’t want to live, I was saying I want to stop pretending at living, I want to stop going through the motions of living without actually experiencing life. And when I said I don’t want to die, I was saying that I don’t want to continue the slow death that’s been my life.
Life has felt very weird recently. I alternate between two extremes: On the one side I’m totally fed up with the so-called safety of mediocrity and ready to jump off the cliff into greatness, and on the other side I regress back into old insecurities and fears that I haven’t felt in years.
I’m hyper aware of the slow death that is the life I’ve been living. It feels as if I’m just running out the clock, and I don’t want to live like that anymore. I want to take more risks. But it’s almost like I can’t find the cliff to jump off of.
I’ve given this question of trust some space for over a week without any new insights other than this:
I don’t think the snake in the visualization was about trust. I think it represents an unconscious fear that if I do meet a wonderful woman there will be some “insurmountable issue” that makes it impossible for us to be together.
My past two relationships have ended because of just such an issue. Perhaps this is a common reason for relationships to end (or else they wouldn’t have ended), but clearly I have some approach avoidance because of it. It’s preventing me from even seeing the possibility of a romantic relationship, let alone pursuing one.
It feels good to at least know that obstacle is there.
For my meditation this morning, I used a CD on attracting love that I borrowed from a friend. During the guided section, I was instructed to open a door and let in the woman I loved and who loves me. I was guided through three different situations in which she and I would experience loving each other and enjoying each other.
I was instructed to make one of those situations be about deep trust between us. For some reason, I started to imagine that this woman owned a snake. Now, ever since I was a kid, I’ve had a very intense phobia about snakes. So I started to feel all of that fear and anxiety in connection to this woman.
Pretty interesting, right?
I’ve known for some time that safety and trust are incredibly important to me. And when I have that in a relationship (romantic or platonic), I recognize it and appreciate it. But I had NO idea there was this intense kind of fear associated with it. No idea, none. In fact, it’s so surprising to me that part of me wants to discount this experience as random or perhaps having a different meaning.
But in a strange way, it makes sense. My most recent romantic relationship was with a woman who not only was planning to move 1000 miles away, but she had defined her priorities in such a way that made it impossible for us to have a long-term relationship. If I do have this deep fear around trust and safety, it makes sense I’d choose to be with someone who was unavailable, and therefore not a risk.
This insight is brand spanking new to me, so I’m still in the awareness and inquiry stage. As I understand it more, I’m sure I’ll talk about it in my posts.
Last night as I was driving to my weekly Power of Now discussion group, I was feeling anxious about money. So I spoke to her:
“Money, I do trust you, and I know that you care about me. But it’s challenging to remember that and not get caught up in the uncertainty. What can I do?”
Show me how much you can create with the resources you have, and then I will give you more, she replied.
And it hit me. I have a life that many people dream of. I run my own business, I set my own schedule. And the big insight was this: I’m single without children, and this is an advantage. Typically, I see that as a negative. But given that reality, there is much I can do with it.
For example, two of my main focuses at this stage of my life are writing my book and practicing inner peace. There are few people whose lives are better suited to these things than me. Yet if you listen to me, I talk about how I don’t have time for them. If I don’t have time for them, who the hell does?
My life is perfect in that context. And that’s all reality is…context, perspective. It’s time for me to appreciate how perfect my life is, embrace the resources I have, and create.
This week I had two people drop out of my Peaceful Productivity Group coaching program. This was a bit discouraging because the group was already smaller than I’d envisioned. But I had an experience that cast some light on this issue and helped me turn my energy around.
My apartment is at the end of a long hallway. I noticed how one of the lights in the hallway was out. It created this noticeably dark area. “What a shame,” I thought. “One of the lights is out. They should fix that.”
And for some reason my focus went to the lights that were still lit, probably a dozen of them, which surprised me. Why hadn’t I noticed there were so many lights in the hallway? Every day, they are all there, functioning properly, yet invisible to me. Only when one goes out do I notice them.
Then I noticed that there are no windows in the hallway. So without those lights, the hallway would be completely pitch black. It would be pretty tricky for me to find my way to my apartment. Even just one or two lights would be all I would need.
So I found myself for the first time appreciating all of the lights in the hallway.
And I chose to apply this perspective to my group. Appreciate who is there. Serve the people in front of me, and don’t worry about the others. Appreciate the light in my life.
Earlier today, I had a momentary thought to check to see if there was a Thursday night yoga class at the studio I used to go to here in town. The thought was quickly forgotten.
Later around 6 PM or so, I decided I wanted to go out somewhere and do something that would make me feel really alive. I took a shower, and in the shower I remembered the yoga idea. I quickly jumped online to see if there was a class and there was, perfectly timed.
I hadn’t been to this yoga studio in about a year. When the teacher of the class I took stopped teaching there, I stopped going. Asha was her name, and she and I stayed friends and saw each other every once in a while. This whole week, I found myself thinking about her and wanting to see her again. That may have been what put the yoga idea into my mind, I don’t know.
So I get to the studio, and there are two other students there plus the instructor, a woman I’ve never met before. The instructor is still dressed in her winter coat and talking to one of the students. I’m not really listening, but I hear, “Blah blah blah Asha blah blah.” Asha?
I ask what they’re talking about and it turns out that the class instructor can’t teach tonight, so she called Asha to substitute for her! How weird! This is my first time back to the studio in a year, and Asha (who doesn’t normally teach there anymore) is going to be teaching the class!
After the class, Asha and I spoke and it turns out that she was as excited to see me in class as I was to see her. She wasn’t looking forward to teaching and was doing it to help out her friend, but when she walked in she said I was like a beacon of light.
As surprised as I was by the coincidence, I wasn’t really surprised. There are connections between people, some stronger than others. And I’ve felt a pretty strong one between Asha and I for a while now.
Using “feeling alive” as my compass seems to be aligned with these connections. It will be fun to see what else happens in the days and weeks to come.
Last night I was reading the book Callings by Gregg Levoy and came upon this quote by Joseph Campbell:
People say that what we’re all seeking is a meaning for life. I don’t think that’s what we’re really seeking. I think what we’re seeking is an experience of being alive…of the rapture of being alive.
This is HUGE for me. I started to notice this past year how challenging it is for me to define my purpose or meaning for being here. Sure, I can write mission statements that sound great and feel pretty good, but it always feels…not quite right.
That’s because the idea of purpose or meaning is just that, an idea. It’s intellectual and lives in the head. What was missing for me was the feeling.
Coming at this from the perspective of “being alive” really opens it up for me. It’s a much clearer compass by which I can steer. It takes the question out of the head and into the body.
For example, I played with my youngest niece in the snow tonight. Coming from the perspective of purpose or meaning, it’s challenging for me to figure out how that fits in. I can do it by connecting the dots that connecting with family is a microcosm for the larger world family we belong to, and also for the greater connection of the Oneness of everything. Neat little intellectual concept that gets me there. But when I come at it from the perspective of being alive or feeling alive, it’s obvious. Of course, I’ll play with my niece in the snow. Playing makes me feel alive. It’s no more complicated than that.
I feel like I now have a much more direct doorway to peace, connection, joy, and spirit.
This morning I encountered this quote by Ross Jeffries: “What you believe is possible for yourself, what you believe you deserve at the deepest levels determines which future you’re going to experience. And then that future reaches back through time and shapes you and molds you into being the kind of person who’s ready for it the day you meet it.”
Just this past Tuesday I was talking to a friend about a similar message expressed by Richard Bach in his book, One. In that book, the characters met future and past selves, people who they were becoming and who were becoming them.
About a year ago, I wrote a post about a time when I’d stand in front of the mirror and imagine talking to my future self. He did reach back through time, encouraging me to be who he knew I was, until the day we met and became one.
I think we tend to look outside of ourselves for proof of who we are — income, love, respect, possessions. At least that’s my tendency. But there’s two problems with that. First, there are many forces that influence those things besides who we are, so they are not reliable indicators. Second, our thirst for more of those things can blind us to the abundance we do have.
I opened myself last year to the possibility of being the husband to an amazing woman and the father to an amazing daughter. And because those relationships did not unfold in the way I envisioned, I took it as proof that there’s something wrong with me.
Worse, I’ve started to create negative fantasies about how I’m not good enough to care for my nieces (i.e. I don’t earn enough, don’t have a house, don’t have health insurance) if something ever happened to their parents. (There’s a story why my mind went there, but I’m not going to get into it.)
Deep inside, I know I’m whole and complete and perfect. Yet I carry beliefs, thoughts, feelings, fantasies, memories, stories, and perspectives that tell me I’m not.
What baggage must I let go of to allow that beautiful person I am to shine more brightly?
These 100 Days of Peace in Relationships have led me to that question, and to the understanding that all of my relationships with others are mirrors of my relationship with myself. That voice in my head that can say kind words to me, cruel words to me, or simply be quiet and let me be.
This is the final day in my 100 Days of Peace in Relationships. It was a wonderfully revealing exploration for me that looked nothing like I thought it would when I began it! I’ll reflect on it in more detail tomorrow.
Today I want to write about a dream I had last night. I was trying to take photographs of family members at some kind of a family gathering, and I was not having much success. Children would not smile or look at the camera, people would move in and out of frame. It was frustrating because I felt powerless to accomplish my goal.
When I woke up, I recognized it immediately as one of my “impotence dreams.” These are a repeating kind of dream in which I have some goal (typically something mundane like finding a room in a building, or in this case taking photographs), but I am unable to achieve that goal no matter how hard I try.
I haven’t had one of these dreams (or I haven’t remembered one) in at least several months, maybe longer.
I’m pretty sure it’s related to a conversation I had yesterday in which I now see I was looking for some acknowledgment and instead I felt unacknowledged. It reminds me of when I would come home with a 98 out of 100 on a test and my father would ask me what happened to the other two points.
So I’ve come to see how important it is for me to acknowledge myself, and to ask for acknowledgment from others, for my progress and growth. I’ve also become aware of how sensitive I am to advice (no matter how well intended) when I don’t feel acknowledged. I take the advice as an implicit accusation that I’m not good enough.
There’s nothing wrong with someone wanting to help me figure out how I can do better. I am so grateful for all of the amazing people in my life who care enough about me to want to push me to grow. And there’s an important context for that: I recognize that because I can lose sight of the acknowledgment part so easily, it helps to have other people to remind me before they give me advice.
Which is probably a great segue to my reflections on these 100 Days. Like I said, they unfolded much differently than I intended, and I want to acknowledge myself (and ask for acknowledgment from YOU) for everything I learned and all the ways I’ve grown, instead of focusing on what I didn’t or how I haven’t.
Last night I had a dream that I was at a party (or maybe I was throwing the party), and all of my friends were arriving. As they arrived I would get very excited to see them and I’d run up to them and hug them. What I find meaningful about the dream:
In the dream, I felt incredible joy and wonder at life’s magnificent abundance (as represented by all of the amazing people who are my friends).
The dream felt like it took place in the present, so the conditions in my life (my level of income, my romantic relationship status, my achievements and goals) were the same as they are now…and I felt whole and complete, and not lacking or wanting in any way.
The only friends who came to the party were the ones that live locally to me now and who I see on a regular basis, again suggesting that I am fulfilled by my life and not feeling like anything is missing.
Each night before I fall asleep, I say a prayer intention that includes these words: “I engage this creative mind to use the dream state to help me experience these things [grace, gratitude, wonder, joy] tonight so that I can create them even more readily in waking life.”
This dream was a wonderful gift from the universe. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Tonight at PONG (my weekly Power of Now Group), I got further clarity on the 3 stages that I typically move through in my healing after a romantic relationship.
Stage 1 is when the memories are still fresh and there are lots of associations. For example, if you know someone who always wears a unique outfit, and then you see that outfit somewhere else, you’ll naturally associate it with the person you know.
In a romantic relationship, there are certain structures to it that are unique (for me anyway): the tonality I use when I speak, the position I give that person in my life, the physical aspect of the relationship, the kinds of activities we do together, etc. And when I think about these things, I naturally associate them with her. So in this first stage, I can’t see women for who they really are, but only in comparison to the woman I was dating. This is the stage I’m in now.
Soon, the memories fade enough that I reach stage 2. This is where I don’t have such strong associations, but I still can’t quite envision another woman in my life in that way. I can see women for who they are, but I can’t yet see myself in a relationship with any of them.
It can also look like this: I know what I don’t want, but I don’t know what I want. And in fact, getting clear on what I don’t want can be a doorway from stage 1 to stage 2.
Stage 3 is where I open up to possibility. I can imagine myself in a new romantic relationship, and I don’t need to know exactly what it will look like. I know what I want and am open to a romantic relationship with any woman who fits me in those ways. I see women for who they are, and I appreciate them fully and honor my platonic relationships with them (and men, for that matter) for who they are. I am ready for a romantic relationship, but I don’t need one because I’m enriched by all of the relationships in my life.
And stage 3 is when I’m most attractive (in both the physical and metaphysical ways).
I chose to give up alcohol for all of 2009, and just a day or two ago I was thinking about taking a vacation to someplace warm and drinking virgin Pina Coladas on the beach. Today I was in the mall with my sister and nieces and we went to the food court because I wanted a drink from Orange Julius (I’d been past it dozens of times but never had one and was curious). What was their drink of the month? Pina Colada!
My theme for 2009 is adventure, and a day or two ago I was talking to a friend about it, and she suggested I get something visual that I can use as a kind of touchstone — a way to remind myself of the theme and get into a feeling of adventure. The first visual I thought of was Indiana Jones, so she suggested I get a poster for my wall. Last night I was thinking, where the heck am I going to find a poster, and I kind of gave up on the idea because I didn’t want to spend time calling stores or driving around. Today in the mall, we walked into a toy store that was closing and having a big clearance sale. What do you think was right out front? A bin with posters for $2…and there was one Indiana Jones poster left!
I acknowledge myself twofold — first for creating these experiences, and second for noticing and acknowledging the wonder of them.
They are a fun reminder of my power to attract into my life even bigger things like romantic relationships, clients, business alliances, and more.
I realized something important about my perspective…
I was thinking back to when my last girlfriend and I started seeing each other, and what my perspective on relationships was at that time. When she first told me she was attracted to me, I told her I was attracted to her too. But, I said, my focus was on creating authentic relationships with people, and I did not want to rush into something. I’d rather take it slow and let the relationship develop at its own pace, instead of forcing something. She agreed.
What’s interesting and what I remember so clearly is how peaceful I was. Had she objected for any reason, I would have been fine letting her go. So the energy I embodied when I attracted her into my life was peace, and faith, and a feeling of being whole and complete. I wanted a relationship, but I didn’t need a relationship.
I contrast that to how I’ve been feeling recently and I see that the wanting has a strong needy flavor to it. Not that I feel I need a woman to be complete. It’s different. It’s like I’m feeling a hole where she once was, and there’s a neediness about filling it again. Not with anyone, but with her.
So any woman I meet now is Not-Her. I can’t even see these new women for themselves, I just see that they’re not her.
I remember the same thing at the end of the relationship before this last one. It was simply a matter of time — enough time for my memory of that relationship to fade. And then I met a woman I was even crazier about! Patience and faith…
I was talking to a client this morning about feeling loved and valued by the universe even when it seems that a particular person or group of people doesn’t love or value you.
And I saw an image in my mind’s eye of a mother holding a crying infant. The infant is crying because he’s hungry, and the mother holds him close while she heats up a bottle on the stove. The infant cries because he does not understand this — he is simply hungry. Yet the mother is peaceful because she knows that everything the infant needs is on it’s way. There’s nothing to worry about, nothing to fear.
How often am I the crying infant, unaware that I am held by the universe? Unaware that exactly what I need is on it’s way. There’s nothing to worry about, nothing to fear.
I have a choice to be the infant or to be the mother, to be ignorant and fearful or to hold myself as loved and valued.
I will visit with this mental picture throughout the day and observe how it feels to be held by the universe.
Each morning when I wake up before I get out of bed, I have a prayer intention that I say:
“I choose now to consciously create my reality, a reality that is peaceful and flows with me in the present. I choose to experience grace. I choose to experience gratitude. I choose to experience wonder. I choose to experience joy. I am creative, resourceful, and whole, and I channel Life’s Infinite Intelligence.”
This morning as I began saying this to myself, I was still drifting in and out of sleep. I found myself spontaneously saying “I choose to experience love. I choose to experience relationship.”
This was unplanned and must have bubbled up from my subconscious. Interesting…
Last night while driving to my parents, I had some time to reflect. I am so sick and tired of being afraid. Not any overwhelming kind of fear, but that low grade fear that inhibits me from taking risks and playing a bigger game in my life.
To live in fear…a kind of death. And those really are the stakes. I can play small and just wait out the days and years of my life until I die, or I can play huge and really experience life.
I heard something empowering — the difference between winners and losers is that winners fail far more often than losers do. To succeed in life, I must be willing (and not afraid) to fail, and fail often.
Warning: This post contains obscenities…oops, too late.
Language is powerful and sometimes vulgarity can reveal something very important. Case in point:
This time of year, lots of people are setting lots of resolutions that they will not keep. Why? What happens to undermine a goal that seems so obviously beneficial to you at the time that you set it?
Why do you give up on something that’s good for you, sometimes within days?
I was discussing this with a friend and client today, and we both agreed that there comes a time when a little voice inside of you says, “Aw, fuck it.” In other words, it’s not worth it. Or in other even-more-honest words, I’m not worth it.
Yes, that internal “fuck it” is really about self-esteem. It’s me giving up on myself because I don’t feel like I’m worth the effort. Talk about obscene…
So I’ve decided to watch for that voice. Any time I hear those words, I will sit up and take notice. Exactly what is this “overwhelming” effort that’s stopping me. I’ve already started today and I noticed that it’s not a heck of a lot of effort that stops me. Sometimes it’s simply the difference between staying seated or getting up. Fuck it?? Really?
When I think back on my most recent romantic relationship, it’s easy for me to hyperbolize how great we were together. It’s easy for me to romanticize the circumstances of how we met and fell in love. And it’s easy for me to fantasize that we would have lived happily ever after.
All of that leads me to feel rejected and hurt. But it’s a hurt in a general way. And as such, it never heals. It’s an invented hurt that gets re-invented over and over again.
To heal, I realize that I must name exactly what it is about the ending of that relationship that hurts.
It is not that I found my soulmate and we are not to be together. It’s not that she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with and now we won’t. No. It’s that I feel like I didn’t get the chance to find out.
She held back in our relationship, by her own admission. She shared her reasons with me and I accepted them and understood. And that worked incredibly well because of certain circumstances.
What I wanted for us was to get to a point where she could feel comfortable not holding back (which was a real possibility, not a pipe dream — I won’t get into specifics here). Then she and I would get to see what we really had together and if it worked. But she ended things before we got that chance.
And that’s what hurts. We never got to see what we had. I’m angry at her for giving up on us so soon.
