Soft Chewy Center

Me at three

  When I was four I asked my mom’s boyfriend what he thought
  about death.  I guess I scared off a few of those guys, because Mom
  didn’t remarry until I was 11! Good thing because I loved my
  stepdad and he could handle the questions. Someone dear to me is
  facing the cancer journey and death is on my mind again. The
  thing about remembering my impermanence is that it keeps me in
  touch with my soft chewy center. We have a tendency to grow hard
  shells of protection, which may serve to get us through the day,
  especially in a culture that does not encourage us to express our
  deeper emotions.  I happen to be lucky, because as a counselor I get
  to be in touch with my soft chewy center all day long. In the heart space connection is welcome. Granted, it’s not always comfortable. Our tendency is to want to fix it - make the feeling or behavior go away. We ask (ourselves and others): “Why did you do that? Why can't I get this right?” But it’s not the “why’s” that help us, but the “what’s.”

“What’s going on right now?” “What are you feeling?” “Tell me what this brings up for you?”

Hwy 93

Part of the reason people avoid emotion is because the first thing that comes up is anger. You’ll see this on the road. There is a sense that if we let our feelings out, we will lose control, or things won't get accomplished. I hear my inner critic that I call Nasty: “Buck up. Pull it together. You should be so much farther along by now. There’s no time for contemplation. It’s time to ACT.” Nothing is really wrong with these statements, but the trouble is that when we power past deeper emotions that hold us trapped and stuck – it’s like we’re a fly pinned to a board at the thorax and flapping our wings.

The fields of Niwot

  Underneath the anger is a frightened
  child asking to be given voice, to be acknowledged in a world that is quick
  to give an answer and shut us down. The sad and scared child gets fed up
  and ends up stuck in a perpetual road rage tantrum. When the child is seen
  and heard and healed, she can focus and charge ahead, accomplishing
  goals in half the time because she is not hauling around a heavy board.

  Asking our emotions to stay put in the corner is like asking a two year old
  to sit still in a toy store; they’re bound to act out – whether it comes out as
  angry driving or body pain. It’s a lot easier to access these feelings in the
  presence of a loving witness – a counselor or coach trained in techniques
  that will help you not only feel, but also to calm down and heal. The more
  issues from the past clear out, the more resourced your body feels, which allows blood flow to the thinking brain and  decreases explosive outbursts.

A soft chewy center invites profound joy and deep connection with others.

I am Not My Body

How many people look in the mirror and think the reflected image is who they are? Do we ever have a perception of ourselves that is true? It is wonderfully ironic that getting in touch with the body is what enables us to see that we are not our bodies. We are so much more. In the practice of grounding and mindfulness, we quiet the mind and feel the spirit that we are. In that space we viscerally understand our connection to every other spirit on the planet.

The physical experience can be delicious whether at a favorite restaurant, playing with a beloved or zipping down a slide at Water World, but it does not define us. Our bodies are what cause us to appear separate from others. They are our containers, our temples, and yet, we are all joined by a higher purpose that is born of Love. In the stillness we experience the Love that is much bigger than anything we have felt with another person. It is not special or unique to one, but it is the great unifier of all. When author of A Course in Miracles says: “I am not a body. I am free” (Foundation of Inner Peace, 1977) she refers to the freedom we can receive from a shifted perception.

Let me back up. When our minds are in control, they organize, plan, judge, divide like rats. Don’t get me wrong – I appreciate rodents, but by only looking down at the rodent, we miss the elephant. Our

Collective Heartbreak - Is Happy Real?

photo by author

Clients occasionally arrive equipped for the journey – with appropriate gear for the long trek – aware that they are not going to get to the pinnacle or goal in a day. However, some sit on the couch with doe-eyes feeling as though they have been traveling on the rocky trail forever without an end in sight. They’ve run out of supplies. They may hope that I have a technique, a pill – something that will just make the pain go away.

In moments like those I wish I were a magician. A few weeks ago, I threw down my notebook and exclaimed: “Being a counselor sucks sometimes!” (I think my client and I were both a little surprised, but she knew I did it because I felt for her. I wanted more than anything to diminish her pain.) The only consolation I can offer clients is that things usually get better if they want it, stick with it and work at it. Change can be scary even when it is positive.

Some days a client might cover 10 miles on the trail and the next day it may start snowing and she may only travel a mile before setting up camp, but inevitably, she will arrive at her destination... or a destination. So we can’t always see the ground we’ve covered or how we’ve changed, but a year out or two we look back and feel like a different person.

People are occasionally suspicious of happiness, assuming that the happy person is faking it or just born

You Be the Judge

"Sunset Orchid" by Alixandra Mullins

My favorite high school teacher, Mr. Tom Barton, once said: “You are prejudiced if you are prejudiced of prejudice.” I recall thinking: of course it’s not right to be prejudiced, and if we don’t have any sense of judgment we’d all be lost. Still, I trusted him, and so I never forgot much of what he taught me. Last week at a network meeting, as I judged a stranger for his judgment, I finally understood what the good Teach was talking about. As this man went on and on becoming more superior by the second I felt my ire rising. Had my filters been down I probably would have started hacking like my cat when he has a hairball caught in his throat or I may have poked myself in the eye repeatedly. But since neither were socially appropriate I did some self talk.

I felt behind what the other person was expressing. I took my perspective to the bigger picture. Fueling his judgment was the longing to connect, an illusion of separation from the other, and a deep sadness related to being misunderstood. These are universal feelings we all wrestle with at one time or another. As I stepped back my mind, my heart stepped forward and I relaxed. I was able to hear his frustration, and the judgment didn’t seem as important.

Even though the Buddha is often mistakenly credited with this quote, it actually appears in a

Embracing Conscience and Eschewing Nasty

Fritz Perls

   It’s surprising how many people do not distinguish an inner critic from
   their spirit voice or soul aspect. I remember asking a client to participate in
   Fritz Perls’ “empty chair exercise.” This is a Gestalt technique in which
   the client engages with an aspect of themselves, an emotion or another
   imagined person. The client takes turns to play both herself and the other
   aspect. In this case I asked my client to engage with her inner critic,
   playing the critic first. She sat up straight in the chair positioned across
   from the couch where she had been sitting and chided: “You are going
   nowhere! You’re a loser, and you’re wasting your time.” After the critic
   lambasted her for a while, I asked her to move back to the couch and
   respond to the nasty critic. I was floored when she said, “You’re right.”
   Before I could interject in her defense, she continued: “But I’m making a huge effort to makes strides and I’ve come a long way.” Engaging in this manner helps clients to hear just how hard it is to rise above an inner voice that is pulling the rug at every step. They begin to feel how they are walking around as their own worst enemies.

It’s pretty tough to hear the voice of the spirit or soul self with another part of the self firing condemning insults. How harshly we judge ourselves sometimes is in direct correlation to how egregiously we judge others. Referring to a friend of hers, a client said to me: “Come on. You have to admit anyone who treats a goat like a pet is ridiculous. It's a farm animal. It's meant to be milked, not pampered.” As I glanced at the goat hairs poking from my jacket hanging on the back of a chair, I purred: “Tell me about what that means to you.” Clients sometimes defend the inner critic, assuring me that without that voice they would get nothing done. They would become lazy, good for nothings. They would repeat their mistakes and never rise to their potential.

I’m not recommending giving up our consciences for Lent, becoming hussies and addicted to gambling.