Year of Abundance Project Revisited; Embodied Abundance

Time to revisit my Abundance Project, for a review of what has (or hasn’t) been going on with it the last few months!

I clearly haven’t been doing a monthly review for each month’s theme/actions. And it’s not that the project itself went by the wayside, because it didn’t, although it has taken a vastly different form than I could’ve envisioned when I crafted it. Some aspects and actions just haven’t been possible (such as June with its Social focus and all the gathering/neighborhood ideas I had!) and a certain depletion or narrowing of creative energy coupled with intense work/therapy focus meant I didn’t always come up with anything much clever to fill the gap either.

Some of the monthly themes took on such an ironic feel in their timing, considering quarantine. April – Parenting? May – Family? A fitting focus for each of those months! Little of it looked in action as it had on paper, for sure, but was determined by the needs of the moment and the needs of the moment shaped the responses. Though sometimes I felt as though I were floundering and failing, somehow it all managed to be ‘good enough’ … and sometimes, that’s what abundance looks like in weird, rough times, giving yourself and others the grace of ‘good enough’.

Yet, though the forms morphed into something so unexpected, to have the abundance framework has helped hold me up somehow – hold me up in hope, remind me of love and joy and passion (which was this month’s theme focus, Play/Passion), and remember it’s not only okay but vital in times like these to nourish our joy, to find wonder, to be playful.

I suppose one reason I felt hesitant, as if it were inappropriate to write of abundance in such of time of upheaval and uncertainty, distress and despair, when it’s so apparent so many don’t have the same chances to participate in and know abundance, and when so many other topics urgently needed attending, voicing, and engaging. To me, for a while it felt that writing anything about an abundance project seemed out of tune, that it would be misattuned and disharmonious (and attending to attunement is a key part of my deep meaning of lived integrity, my 2020 word). Whether or not that seems like an accurate interpretation of the situation and energy to others, it was something I felt moved to be respectful of and intentional about in whatever I did offer or share.

And, goodness, how is ‘abundance’ supposed to look right now? How is my abundance, your abundance supposed to look? Or perhaps more accurately, how does it and how can it look? Beyond that, how does abundance look for those grieving loss and injustice, for those suffering oppression, for those laboring for liberation right now?

How to define, refine abundance right now? How is the year 2020 a year of abundance; what abundance can be drawn from all this year has brought, broken down, cracked wide open, thrown wildly to the winds, swamped us and our world with? Those are questions that perhaps can’t be answered yet, perhaps the answers are still buried, hidden, unfolding, perhaps some answers are vividly, defiantly, beautifully present in the challenge, pain, and grief.

One thing I know – abundance itself remains as real and present, as valid and vital as ever it was. The experience of abundance, the ability to access and know and choose abundance in its many forms, a right all deserve. Abundance in the form of moments of awe and wonder, nature’s healing gifts (such as blue butterflies I saw on my recent solitary retreat). Abundance in the many forms of hope and grace, love and liberation, joy and justice, liberty and equity, solidarity and empathy, honesty and healing, humility and truth, community and collaboration, rest and restoration …

I’ve been learning of embodied activism (being connected and present in mind, spirit, and body in social justice and advocacy action, in racial justice work, and antiracism practice – and this makes perfect sense to me as a therapist and yoga teacher, considering we experience life in bodies, our bodies carry our memories and traumas, and so the work of justice and healing needs to happen intentionally through and in our bodies to be a whole work). But considering the many forms of abundance makes me think of embodied abundance … embodying abundance. Abundance present and embodied in nature, in us, in our relationships with ourselves/our bodies and in our relationships with others. Us learning to be present in our bodies and our world, to be embodied, and to embody abundance for one another in all those beautiful qualities of being and serving and advocating listed above.

So, perhaps this points to an answer to some of the questions above …

abundance can look like and be
hope and grace embodied,
love and liberation embodied,
joy and justice embodied,
liberty and equity embodied,
solidarity and empathy embodied,
honesty and healing embodied,
humility and truth embodied,
community and collaboration embodied,
rest and restoration embodied!

Own your truth

Recently I posted this story collection of three-word sentences on my Facebook page, inspired by a question that asked, what are three words you would tell your younger self? (And as I jokingly mentioned, most who know me know that I can come up with more than three words for almost anything – hence the story collection!!)

You are beloved. You are worthy. You are beautiful. You are whole. You are free. Live in liberty. Live with integrity. Love whole-heartedly. Practice self-compassion. Give yourself grace. Acknowledge your pain. Embrace your suffering. Set aside shame. Be you, authentically. Be you, bravely.

Here are two more three-word sentences to add to that story:  Hold the light. Own your truth.

And that is precisely what I intend to do, not just in this post, in my writing, but in my living and being: own my truth, own the truth. Own the truth so that I can hold the light, be in light, be light.

This owning truth, living in truthfulness, is a moral, ethical, spiritual practice. Actually, it’s a love practice, even a self-compassion practice.

I have been inspired to explore what it means to own my/the truth, to live and practice truthfulness on an even deeper level by reflecting on the yamas, the five moral restraints or principles that form a part of the foundation of the philosophy and practice of yoga.

It seems that there is an image of yoga, at least in some respects, as consisting primarily of poses or postures, physical movements (asanas). And asanas are essential in yoga; but yet, a yoga practice that consists only of the physical aspect is a one-dimensional practice. (Could we say the same about life and living?)

The spiritual practice provides the deeper dimensions, the dimensions that give fullness and rhythm and grace to the movements – to life. These spiritual principles, these deeper dimensions, are not ones that stand in contrast to any faith or wisdom traditions, to any spiritual truths such as those of Jesus. Rather, they are in harmony with the simplicity and universality of the values of love, kindness, compassion, and graciousness.

All of the yamas are beautiful concepts and practices … such as ahimsa, which is non-violence. What does living ahimsa mean on a deeper level? What does it mean to live non-violence, to live love? That is perhaps another post!

However, the yama that is my focus right now is satya, which is truthfulness, the practice of truthfulness.

And no, this doesn’t mean the practice of brutal honesty … which often lacks compassion and tends to wound more than it heals. Wounding is not what honesty, or a practice of truthfulness, is about.

Truthfulness is about healing and wholeness, about compassion and grace. It is about integrity and authenticity, which are intimately intertwined.

Sometimes truthfulness requires silence, sometimes restraint of speech and/or action, sometimes bold words, a voice of grace and passion, in the face of opposition or misunderstanding. All take courage, deep inner courage.

And while truthfulness is about not lying, that is but the surface of it. Truthfulness is about a lot more than not lying. And not lying is about a lot more than not saying false or deceitful things. It’s about not taking liberties with elements of the truth, about not hiding weaknesses, perceived flaws, or mistakes in shame, about not avoiding accountability when you’ve done wrong.

Truthfulness is first an inward practice … truth in the inward parts, in the heart. It begins inside, becomes who you are, and flows out into all that you do … it becomes a constant companion and practice.

Truthfulness begins with letting go of self-deceptions and attachments to self-deceptions. With letting go of denial of truths about yourself. With looking deeply inward and beginning to know yourself, the best you can know yourself, for who you are, who you are becoming, who you are to become … not for who others have thought or said you are, or for who others have said you ought to be or ought not to be.

Truthfulness is a deep, vulnerable form of letting go of pretense, telling the truth about ourselves to ourselves and to other human beings, living the truth about ourselves straightforwardly and sincerely.  Letting go of the shame and the fear of judgment that often causes us to build barriers … and miss out on the connection that comes when we are most real and reach out in that realness to the realness in others.

Truthfulness is a heart and a soul willing to be seen and known, deeply, and to be, deeply … even when there is cost or loss that comes with it. Because the cost or loss that comes with untruthfulness is greater … the loss of wholeness and integrity of being.

But peace comes with truthfulness, with living in integrity and authenticity. Living in the light, holding the light, being light.

And in honor of satya, in honor of truthfulness,  my next post will shine light on a truth that has always been a part of my life story, of my journey toward wholeness and belovedness!

 

 

And a little child led me: parenting in belovedness

Today I want to share a deeply personal story about finding and living the echoes of belovedness in parenting!

This is a story about what became a holy interaction between my youngest daughter, D, and I, though it surely didn’t start out with that promise in it at all! In fact, it felt pretty messy. Nowhere near a beautiful mess … just a mess.

It was Easter morning and the girls and I were getting ready to go to brunch at church before service.

Now, D is a delightful child (after all, that’s what the D stands for 😉 ), sparkly, spunky, spirited, strong-willed, sweet and spicy both. I love her spiritedness; it’s one of my very favorite things about her. I love her fierce strength, and even her stubbornness … oh, so much like mine!

And this was a stubborn moment … not just hers, but mine, too!

There are times she decides, and at the most inconvenient moment (that is, the last five minutes before it’s time to leave, for school or whatever; and do these things ever happen at a ‘convenient’ moment, anyway?!), that she isn’t wearing these shoes after all, only those shoes will do, but those are the shoes her sister is wearing (or the coat her sister is wearing) and no, I won’t wear any other shoes. Or, no, you get these shoes for me and you put them on for me … and then, NO, don’t put my shoes on for me, I want to … Which is wonderful, except then, she doesn’t want to anymore in the next moment! Oh my!

So, Easter morning we had a variation on this theme.  I attempted to handle it in the method that has, after much trial and even more error, revealed itself to be generally effective at calmly de-escalating or defusing these situations. This method usually involves a combination of offering a choice and counting to a certain number, making the options clear and giving her time and space to make a choice before the choice becomes mine. It works well – when I remain calm, mindful, and patient!

But it was spectacularly bombing this morning … or rather, I was, really. I felt oddly disoriented and drained after being up in the middle of night (2:00-4:00) for the Easter vigil and I just was failing at the ‘patience and not sounding like a drill sergeant thing!’ Besides, I hadn’t eaten any breakfast yet and I just wanted to get to the brunch and have time to eat!  I was most definitely not in calm, mindful mom mode … D was in meltdown mode, and I felt about ready to join her.

But then I felt my own stubborn anxiousness suddenly give way and I said, oh, honey, I just want to get there because I’m so hungry and so tired, and besides, I think I’m just about to cry!

And she quietly said, with a sigh and a sob, me too!

I picked her up, set her on the counter, hugged her tight, and said around the swelling in my throat, Oh, D, I love you … I’m so sorry I haven’t been patient. I’m so sorry this has been so hard for you and me too …

We cried a bit together … and then amazingly, how much better it all became, like a brand new morning! The shoes went on and we left, still in decent time, but even better, with peace in our hearts.

Oh, I certainly felt emptied, poured out, undone as I drove there … but also filled up with reverent gratefulness, for the healing of love, for me and for her.

Gratefulness for the resurrecting and transforming power of love!

Gratefulness that a simple bit of honesty and vulnerability had the power to heal, cleanse, and redeem that painful interaction … to infuse it instead with belovedness.

Oh, I long so much for my parenting to echo with belovedness! For my children to hear belovedness in the way I speak to them, to feel belovedness in the way I interact with them, the way I am present with them, the way I discipline them. That even my disciplining would echo with belovedness …

And that costs me vulnerability, honesty, humility. To be willing to let my children see that in me, to give them that gift of belovedness … and to believe that even when I’ve messed up, the gift of belovedness is still there, for them and for me.

To let them see I am a flawed human being. To let them see me own that, with self-compassion.

To let them hear me acknowledge my mistakes and apologize.

To not be afraid to apologize to them when I was unjust or unfair, when my impatience or irritation toward them had more to do with me, my pride and my unmindfulness than with them.

To respect them enough to be honest with them.

To be real with them. Real enough to let them see my tears and to cry with them.

To be unafraid and unashamed to be an imperfect mother who is still learning … an imperfect mother who also loves fiercely, deeply, vulnerably, whose deepest intention is to become ever more mindful of this love moving in all my interactions with my children, in all my parenting efforts …

To remember more to let go …

of stubbornness, pride, expectations, attachments to what I think my parenting and my children ought to be like …

and to let Love lead,

just as a little child led me Easter morning!