The wind picked up and the temperature dropped as we climbed in elevation. I gripped the lap bar, my sleeves pulled tightly over white knuckles. We swayed forward every time the chair lift came to a stop, causing my stomach to drop. I glanced below my dangling feet at the craggy mountain slope and calculated my chances of survival should our chair snap free from its steel cable. I don’t have a fear of heights so much as I have a fear of faulty engineering. But it was my friend, Amy’s birthday, and taking a chairlift to the top of Mount Snow in Vermont was what she wanted to do. So I faced my fear and anxiously awaited my prize of solid ground, breathtaking views, and an alcoholic beverage in the lodge to calm my nerves. I am grateful I didn’t give in to my fear. The reward of a new life experience sitting atop that mountain overlooking the valley was worth the discomfort.

Acknowledging Fear

When was the last time you did something that scared you?

I could rattle you off a list of things I’ve done that scared the hell out of me. Highlights include slipping down sliding rock in Pisgah National Forest into frigid water. Holding a tarantula in Colorado. Being a passenger along Mount Evans Road, the highest paved road in North America, which dropped off to certain death at 14,000 feet.

I recall these moments specifically because the experience of facing and embracing fear is so memorable. Knotted stomach, tight back, clenched jaw, rapid breathing, increased adrenaline… the mind races with one ultimate decision: give in to the fear or face the fear. When you decide to go for it, a nervous courage joins the party leaving you feeling emboldened and rebellious. Then you do the thing that scares you and exhilaration floods through you like a tsunami and you’re no longer who you were a moment before. You’re changed: stronger, braver and more experienced.

The Cost of Fear

There is nothing to gain by giving in to fear, but there is so much to lose. Had I allowed myself to be held back by fear over the years, I would have sacrificed so many incredible life experiences. All those memories and stories… gone. All those instances when I demonstrated bravery that have boosted my confidence… gone. All that exhilaration… gone.

Fear grips us when we think we may fail, get hurt, or worse, die. This is not an easy thing to overcome. We give in to it in order to prevent risk of injury or death, but the truth is that the joke’s on us. That’s because fear does not stop death, it stops life. Fear stops us from living.

Adrenaline is what makes us feel alive! Taking risks and chances, being afraid, increasing life experiences – THAT’S living.

We don’t regret the things we do that scared us, we regret not doing them. Twenty plus years later, I am still grateful I quite literally took a leap and jumped off a 25 foot cliff. To this day, it remains one my proudest moments; one that helped shape who I am as a person.

I was no younger than ten or older than twelve. Forever trying to keep up with my big brothers, I found myself at the edge of a cliff at Action Park. I desperately tried to will myself to take that last tiny step before chickening out, stepping aside and letting people go ahead of me.

My fearless brother, Joey jumped and climbed the hill back to the cliff several times while I stood there becoming increasingly worn down by my fear. My eyes welled with tears as my resolve slipped away. Joey came back again. “Ready?” he asked. I stood at the edge and crossed my arms over my chest as instructed. Finally, desperate, I uttered two words through frozen lips. “Push me.”

Without hesitation Joey nudged my back and down I went. The fall seemed to last a lifetime before I plunged deeply into the cold water. I emerged a different person; someone bolder, someone braver, someone more experienced.

Imagine if I had let my fear get the best of me that day on top of that cliff? This would not be a story of courage, but one of regret.

Facing and Embracing Fear

When you are faced with the opportunity to do something that scares you, take it! These are what some of life’s most defining and memorable experiences are made of!

What scares you? What do you regret not doing because you gave in to your fear?

Jump off cliffs, hold a snake, ask the girl out, travel alone to a foreign country… DO WHAT SCARES YOU! You may think these experiences aren’t that memorable, but believe me, they are! The adrenaline surges and sense of empowerment alone are enough to make you feel more alive. It’s a total bonus that facing and embracing fear boosts confidence.

Believe me, these are the stories you’ll tell. You will live to see another day, and will get to enjoy a life that has more… well, LIFE.

P.S. In writing this post I realized that my brother, Joey, who really is fearless, was present at nearly every single one of my scariest moments, even those that didn’t make the final draft of this post. Truth be told, on Mount Evans Road I was so terrified I begged him to let me out of the car. He wouldn’t let me because it wasn’t safe. If it wasn’t for him nudging me off the cliff, I may never have taken the step myself. If it wasn’t for him not letting me out of the car, I wouldn’t have ever been 14,000 feet high into the clouds. Thanks, Joey. xoxo

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Like physical exercise, spiritual exercise works only if we do it. Even better is if we not wait to do it until we find ourselves in trouble. Often we work out hard after overindulging. This is not unlike our relationship with prayer. We often surrender spiritually and reach for a higher power when disaster has struck. Lesson 8 of Marianne Williamson’s A Course In Weight Loss stresses the utmost importance of practicing spiritual surrender. The goal is to get us surrendering to the divine and calling on the power that dwells within us all before disaster strikes. This is how we can begin to deconstruct and dissolve the emotions that lead to emotional overeating.

Lesson 8 calls for practicing spiritual surrender by handwriting a prayer 30 times morning and night for three days. The prayer is:

Dear God, please feed my hunger and restore my right mind. Teach me how to love.

When I first read lesson 8, I had a strong and immediate response. It was, “I’m not doing that.”

I thought the assignment was silly and unnecessarily time-consuming. But then something my friend, Kathy says came to mind and that’s more or less that it is often the things we have an adverse response to that we need most. Then I also realized this wasn’t that different than reciting “I have a choice” forty times for forty days while setting an intention for my mala. I also committed to doing every lesson in this book. So I picked a journal that I had been “saving” for a special occasion, gifted to me by another friend. It is leather bound with the impression of a magnificent tree, and has beautiful parchment pages. I knew this was the proper place to put my prayers.

And so, feeling slightly foolish, I sat and wrote my prayer thirty times, an image of Bart Simpson at the blackboard coming to mind. Then I did it the following evening, the next morning and so on until I was done.

This is not a religious blog, nor do I write about prayer here, so please bear with me if this isn’t your cup of tea.

I learned that the prayer is not unlike an intention. Throughout the act of repetition I began to really dissect the plea. I use food to feed my hunger, although my hunger is not for food. I still don’t know completely what I’m hungry for, but I know I am not in my right mind when I attempt to satiate my hunger with food. It has something to do with love, particularly the lack of love I have for myself.

Through the repetition I found some strength and ease. Then I disregarded it until I began to write about this lesson. I didn’t practice surrendering enough to make it habit. It would be amazing if I could surrender during difficult moments at the very least, but that is when I find it is hardest because I’m in some sort of blackout, autopilot state (more on that when I recap lesson 9). Surrendering when things are going well doesn’t even occur to me. This is why this lesson requires mental discipline. Through the process of writing about spiritual surrender, I have come to understand it more.

The book makes a point of reminding us that if one antibiotic doesn’t knock out an infection, it doesn’t mean it’s not working. “Prayer is spiritual medicine,” Williamson wrote.

“[Prayer] boosts your spiritual immune system by increasing the depth of your surrender. Whether or not you believe it works is irrelevant. It doesn’t matter what you think about surrendering to the divine. All that matters is that you surrender.“

Williamson continues to say that, “In all things, spiritual surrender marks the end of struggle and the beginning of true ease.” The point is to establish the mental discipline of calling on a higher power as a regular practice to cultivate and maintain serenity, not just in hours of need. The lesson is meant to dismantle our resistance to doing that.

“Spiritual surrender is a full-throttle willingness to let go of everything – every thought, every pattern, and every desire – that blocks love from entering into you and extending through you.”

It is a beautiful concept. I also happen to know it works. The problem is remembering to surrender. In times of struggle we often become so protective, and go so far inward, or leave our bodies completely, that surrendering or calling on something higher than ourselves does not occur to us. We become entirely narrow-minded and focused on survival.

Therefore, spiritual surrender will take a lot more discipline on my part in order for it to become a part of my daily practice.

How do you practice spiritual surrender? Any words of advice?

Following is the continuation of last week’s post, From Hating to Appreciating: Attempting To Love Your Body.

I’ve written before about how much I love the start of a new year. I imagine it was the high energy and positivity a new year brings that contributed to my second attempt at appreciating my body. January 17 was a bitter cold, dreary Sunday more than two months after my first attempt at completing A Course in Weight Loss‘ Lesson 7. The promise of snow lingered in the air and calm permeated my home like the scent of simmering soup. The weekend had been healthy and productive, my favorite kind. I had no further obligations and the clean sanctuary of my home office beckoned. The timing was perfect for ending an abusive relationship with my body and beginning an honorable one.

Preparation

I started with a long, steamy shower and concentrated on becoming more aware of my body as I prepared for the ritual before me. I sloughed my body of the dry skin that seemed to cover every inch of me, then slowly shaved my legs. This wasn’t my usual five minute shower, but more like the kind I take when I anticipate intimacy; giving of my body to someone else to enjoy. This time I prepared my body for intimacy with myself.

I concentrated as I slowly dried my skin, paying attention to each limb and joint. The silky material of my favorite robe felt pleasant against my skin. My awareness of my body increased as I sought to repair my relationship with the container of my soul.

Inside my office, I lit candles and incense upon my altar and played meditative music. I laid a towel on the floor directly before my altar and bowed to the Buddha before slipping off my robe. Standing naked and exposed, I battled embarrassment, shame and the urge to reach for cover. I stood tall, my hands in a prayer position at my heart. Snow started its slow and sporadic fall just outside the windows directly in front of me. I strived to summon the grace, strength, power and beauty of ancient kings and queens who regularly performed similar rituals.

Acknowledgement of Abuse

I reached for the oil. As the book instructed, I started with my feet. My cracked and calloused heels felt rough in my hands and guzzled the oil like desert dirt gulps rainwater. I apologized to my heels for giving them so much weight to bear.

Next, I lovingly smoothed the oil into the skin of my ankles and legs. I examined the scars and beginnings of varicose veins bright against the paleness of my flesh. So many scars… from accidents, bug bites, a tomboyish youth, all coupled with a horrible habit of scab picking. And then the pencil thin scars on the insides of my thighs. Not the stretch marks that are plentiful I assure you, but the marks I made myself many years ago. My eyes filled as the sight of those scars brought me back to my teenage bedroom. The sadness, loneliness and anger I felt then coursed through me. I cried for that teenage girl who felt so scared, so hurt, so lonely that she dragged razor blades across her flesh in order to feel something, anything other than what she was feeling.

I rubbed my thumbs gently over those scars lovingly as a parent might rub a smudge of dirt off a toddlers pudgy cheek. “I’m so sorry,” I sobbed over and over as I allowed myself to grieve, not just for my body, but for myself and the young girl I used to be. “I’m trying. I swear to you I’m trying so hard.”

I wrapped my arms around myself and hung naked in a sort of forward fold as my body wracked with sobs. My skin absorbed oil mixed with tears. When I was ready, I once again summoned the power of those ancient queens and stood tall once more.

Coincidence is indeed God’s way of remaining anonymous. Just yesterday I read these words spoken by Chris Cleave’s character, Little Bee in the book Little Bee:

“I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.”

I ask you all now to join with me in Little Bee’s pact. Let us all see scars as beauty. Okay?

Gratitude

I continued my upward journey as I thanked my skin for its ability to expand and apologized for making it have to. My belly. My belly is something I hardly ever look at in a mirror except to ensure it’s properly covered. It’s the palest part of my body, as white as the snow that fell just outside my window. I rubbed oil into it with both hands in a circular motion and apologized for hating it so much. I had rejected and detested my stomach, my core, the very center of me. In order to heal myself I now understand that I must make peace with my core and allow love to permeate the center of me.

Emotions continued their flash flood as I massaged my breasts with oil. Each was heavy in my hand. I have always disliked my breasts. They don’t make me feel sexy; they make me feel fat. More often than not, they are a nuisance. I have resented being told I should be grateful for them because men love large breasts. Excuse me if I don’t think that is a valid enough reason to graciously accept the many drawbacks of having large breasts.

But as I cupped my breasts in my hands I thought of my mother as she laid in her hospital bed post-mastectomy and placed her hand where her breast used to be and grieved the loss of her womanhood. And so I apologized to my breasts for disliking them. I apologized for not keeping them sacred and sharing them with far too many people who didn’t deserve access to my body so freely. I thanked them for not being cancerous.

The oil felt good against my skin and my body relaxed, responding to my touch, opening up to me, welcoming me. I began to feel more comfortable in my own skin and no longer felt the urge to cover up.

As I rubbed the oil into my back as best as I could, I apologized to my back for not being able to scratch and lotion it properly because I’m so wide. I apologized for the weakness of my core and shoulders that result in my poor posture, straining my back. I apologized that I’m so insecure at times I tend to huddle into myself, adding further stress to my back. Despite all this, my back truly has “my back,” so I thanked it for doing its job so amazingly well and praised it for its strength.

New Beginning

I covered the remainder of my body – my face, my ears, my neck. The sheen on my skin glistened in the flickering candlelight. I ran my hands slowly over my slippery surface, satisfied I hadn’t missed a spot. I sat on my towel in order to meditate on what I was feeling. Sitting cross-legged naked was so unfamiliar that I laughed out loud. “Here I am,” I thought. This was me in my purest state, nothing to hide behind. I looked down at my thighs, breast and belly and the way they all rested on one another unsupported by clothing. I sat up straight and lowered my eyes.

It’s true. I’ve fed my body excessive food, but too little love and care. It’s time to reunite my inner and outer self. I thanked my body for the way it moves despite everything I’ve done to it; for the miraculous way it heals; for the physical pain it endures and the resilience it demonstrates. I thanked it for the endless ways it supports me and for its power. Our skin is our biggest organ and I apologized for everything I exposed it to, environmentally, chemically, physically, all undeservedly. I thanked my skin for containing every single part of me.

Although I didn’t protect my body, it has protected me. I took advantage of my body and was in an abusive relationship with it. It took performing this ritual to understand all that. I am so grateful to have marked the beginning of an honorable relationship with my body. That was the goal of Lesson 7: to repair and restore the relationship between me and my physical self.

Like the oil, I think it’s safe to say it was absorbed.

P.S. Although I completed this ritual nearly seven months ago, I hadn’t wanted to write about it until now. It took me all these months to integrate the process and formulate my thoughts surrounding it. Now that I have, I feel the full benefits of the Lesson. If you’re working through A Course in Weight Loss, a similar book, a process of your own or simply wondering why I have been working through the same book for well over a year, please remember that change takes time, patience and space. 

I haven’t mentioned my weight loss efforts in a while. Not because I haven’t been trying to lose weight — I don’t think there was a time in the past twenty years when I wasn’t trying to lose weight, at least in spirit — but because I haven’t had much to say. I’d be thin by now you’d think, but nope. I’m only ten or so pounds shy of the heaviest I’ve ever been. It’s so frustrating, too because I’m the most active I’ve been since I was tween, and I definitely eat the healthiest I ever have. But the weight is still reluctant to go away because I continue to struggle with emotional overeating and destructive behaviors.

Overeating

I overdid it this holiday weekend. I ate too much, drank too much and smoked cigarettes AGAIN. I congratulated myself just last week for going out for happy hour and not overdoing it; not smoking, not overeating when I got home. I worked my resistance muscle HARD and woke up the next morning feeling proud and accomplished. But I guess I pushed the muscle too hard and it was sore, so my giving in muscle picked up the slack.

Instead of feeling proud this morning, I felt disappointed, shameful, guilty, and frustrated.

One area where I now excel thanks to my cognitive therapy work is putting a stop to destructive behavior at the first possible opportunity, rather than riding things out until their logical and convenient end like I used to. Today is the last day of the three-day weekend. There’s still plenty of left-overs. I could easily rationalize overeating one more day and resetting tomorrow. But that’s the same destructive thinking that got me to where I am now.

Although my body was eager for a break and craved light foods, my emotions craved comfort and reprieve from the guilt and shame of what I had done to my body the past two days. I noticed my mood shift. I felt the urge to be healthy and productive today slip away as thoughts of TV-watching, napping, and eating danced across my mind enticingly.

Forgiving

I couldn’t let my intentions slip away. I recognized the destructive triangle I was caught in (thought leading to feeling, feeling leading to action, and action leading to thought and around and around I go) and knew I had to fight my way out. In a burst of energy and determination, I jumped up, silenced the internal pleas to stay on the couch, and took a shower. I created a new triangle because that positive action lead to the thought that perhaps I could forgive myself. So after my shower I meditated on forgiveness and moving on.

I quieted my mind enough that I heard the voice of my higher self. “It’s okay,” she said. The incense smelled sweeter and more inviting than the left-over homemade peach cobbler and I surrendered myself to the calm. I felt gratitude for my body, something I experienced for the first time when completing Lesson 7 from A Course in Weight Loss, which I will write about in another post. I also felt sorrow for what I had done to my body, but again the voice said, “It’s okay.”

I breathed in and out, letting go of this weekend’s weakness and allowing my mind to still. “You are determined,” came the voice of my higher self. “And you are forgiven.”

I haven’t been back on the couch since before my shower. I’m listening to my body instead of my mind, and only giving it what it wants, which is water and fruit. I’m grateful to be forgiven, especially because I’m only still learning that I have the right to ask for forgiveness. I no longer need to carry my guilt around like a bloated belly.

I feel lighter already.

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My brother, Joey recently visited from Colorado. We took it easy his last day here and lounged around. I caught up on journaling. If you’ve been reading this blog a while, you may remember I keep several journals, two of which are 5-year journals. One is titled One Line A Day: A Five-Year Memory Book and the other Q&A a Day: 365 Questions, 5 Years, 1,825 Answers. Both only require a sentence or two be written a day and each entry goes underneath the previous year’s so I can reflect on the past. I find them a simple and effective way to journal.

I explained them to Joey and read him a few simple examples. For May 23rd: What’s your hairstyle? May 3rd: If you could have a superpower just for today, what would it be? (In 2015 I answered ‘teleportation so I could see so many incredible things.’ For 2016 I answered ‘healing, so I could help Mom.’) In this example alone, I can see I’ve become less selfish over the course of one year.

I also explained that some questions were more intense and thought-provoking, and as for the one line a day journal, I write down something significant from each day.

Joey’s response was one of confusion. “Don’t they keep you living in the past,” he asked. “Aren’t they full of stuff you’d be better off forgetting?”

His question caught me off guard since I am a proponent of living presently. I had to think. Was I living in the past? I was learning from the past, and remembering things worth remembering.

“No,” I answered. “First of all, there’s great stuff in these,” I said, tapping the books with my pen. “Little things easily forgotten that make me smile. Also, they help me see how I’ve grown. Sure, there’s painful stuff, but I don’t want to “forget” anything. I want to understand and accept; identify the good in the bad, and not be caught off guard or made to feel uncomfortable by lingering thoughts and memories, because lets face it – do we ever really forget anything completely?”

Joey seemed to consider what I said, then shrugged with indifference and went back to his phone as if the conversation no longer interested him.

But the topic interested me, so I thought about it more. I know some people certainly want to forget, but they go about it by denial and avoidance. I’d like to forget things, and not all of them are bad. Some memories are incredible, but thinking of them hurts my heart and fills me with a bittersweet sadness and longing because a friendship ended or a love was lost. We are advised to express gratitude for the experiences and the memories, but it’s not always easy.

I love Jeanne Safer’s suggestion that we “celebrate” to compensate for our loss in these instances.

When there is something meaningful to retrieve from a past relationship, celebrating it is a genuine compensation for loss. If anything in your love was real—imperfect, ambivalent, obsessive, or selfish in part, but tender and true at the core—it is yours forever, even though the one you loved loves you no longer or never fully returned your devotion. The authentic core of love is eternal, even if the person who inspired it will never return to you. But you have to hold fast to it and fight through your despair and disappointment to find it, resurrect it, and claim it.

These memories of past relationships remain our property despite their demise. We have every right to hold on to them in order to celebrate what was, and to look back with a smile and grateful heart for the experience.

Other memories I’d like to forget because they trigger shame, embarrassment, and are altogether pretty horrible. For example, the memories that a building near my home evoke.

I drive past this particular building two times a day. Years went by when I couldn’t even bear to visit the town, let alone see the building. But the passing of time helped me heal and I learned to accept what happened there. Some days, particularly during the winter, the season when I lived in the building, a memory strikes me like a flash of lightning and I shake my head to dissolve the materialized image. I know I’ll never forget what happened, but at least the memories don’t trigger anger or anxiety or cause me pain and suffering anymore. That’s because I allow them to exist.

I recognize the behavior from those who choose the way of denial and avoidance when dealing with their past.  They are easily triggered; defensive, anxious. I’ve witnessed people shut down conversation at the mention of a seemingly innocent subject because it triggered a memory or feeling they’ve gotten so used to ignoring. A lack of acceptance is at work.

Keep in mind that when I write of acceptance in this context, I don’ t mean we should resign ourselves to what happened to us or that we are helpless. By acceptance, I mean allowing something to exist, like a building, and accepting that these memories are part of who we are and our lives. Zindel Segal, Professor of Psychology in Mood Disorders, wrote that denying a negative mindset is taking place can be riskier for mental health than allowing negative emotions to exist.

In accepting negative emotions, allowing them to exist, we can begin to increase our self-awareness. Instead of lashing out after being triggered and not understanding why because we block out our memories, we can understand what’s happening (cognitive therapy). We can learn to understand our responses to certain triggers because we can identify them. Like Segal says in the article linked below, “Ah, fear is here.” Rather than experience impatience and irritability when at a red light next to the building that triggers me, I understand what’s at work – fear and discomfort. So instead of getting upset, I tell myself, “You are safe.”

What’s my alternative? Drive miles out of my way to avoid what boils down to bricks and concrete? Drive past white knuckling the steering wheel? Neither are viable options to me. If you’re avoiding something or someone and find yourself holding your breath or wanting to disappear into the wall, ask yourself: What’s really at work here? What is it I don’t want to exist? 

Perhaps it’s shame and you could go the rest of your life without seeing someone who triggers it deep within your core. Try giving yourself much needed self-care, love, and forgiveness. Your shame is not written across your forehead, even though I know it may often feel like that. Allow it to exist, and the person who makes you feel that way, and be mindful of your feelings and what you need, even if it’s leaving the space. The point is to be aware and good to yourself, not deny what is happening and behave in a way that will further add to your shame.

Three Ways Acceptance Helps You Work with Difficult Emotions

Whether good or bad, remembering is healthy. Allow for opportunities to reflect and see how you’ve grown, how relationships have changed, how less or more important things that were worthy of preserving at the time have become. Get comfortable with the past. Allow it to exist.

See for yourself how healthy remembering can be. Enter my raffle for a chance to win a 5-year journal of your own.

From June 3 – 9 you can enter to win the five year memory book so you, too, can capture a line or two a day for five years and reflect back on your experiences.

Click here to enter!

Please share this post (or one of your favorites) right now for a quick and easy three entries in the raffle. Just don’t forget to enter your name and e-mail address at the link above so I know you did it.

Thank you and good luck!

At last the cool, wet weather that consumed what should have been spring here on the east coast passed. Kathy and I resumed our daily walks. It was the day after my birthday and I was trying to find words to express what I could only describe as my heart having grown a size.

“I feel… special. It’s weird. I wonder if maybe I’m easier to love now, or if I’m more open to receiving love?”

“I think it’s both,” Kathy said.

My heart felt enormous. The previous week was intense: preparations and cleaning, house guests, estranged family, worrisome visits, carefully navigated conversation, managing expectations… I approached all the experiences with authentic vulnerability and openness. Over the course of the long weekend there were opportunities to lose patience, have hurt feelings, place blame, judge and inevitably fall asleep crying. Yet despite wearing no armor, my heart remain unscathed! How could this be? Because in staying open and leading with my heart, I didn’t identify those opportunities for pain. Instead I found the opportunities to show love, compassion, forgiveness, and understanding.

I often wore armor in the past. I closed myself off in order to protect myself and maintained a defensive and judgemental stance. In doing so, I realize now I only attracted blows to my defenses, invited others to test me, and created opportunities for judgements and stories about me, bringing upon myself precisely what I was trying to avoid. My armor didn’t protect me; it damaged me.

When I decided to leave myself exposed, I tried not to attach expectations. I knew by anticipating the worst I could create a self-fulfilling prophecy. I tried to leave everything unknown and focus on keeping my heart open. Although I didn’t anticipate it being broken, I never thought it could be strengthened! Yet despite wearing no armor, my heart was reinforced. Did my love protect me, or did it attract love in return? Like Kathy said, I think it’s both.

My defenses only attracted negativity. My love attracted positivity. Maybe our energy really does have influence… that’s what Elizabeth Gilbert says.

“Your energy has an effect on every single person you encounter throughout life. You have influence over people sometimes even if you don’t speak to them directly; they can still feel your energy, and your energy is a powerful and deeply contagious force.” – E.G.

It makes perfect sense. Don’t we avoid those we identify as “standoffish” and gravitate to whom we find welcoming? Have you ever felt great then been exposed to an emotional vampire and felt drained of positivity, or allowed your mood to be enhanced by someone in good spirits? I’ve experienced both too many times to count, and have also been the vampire. I just never made the connection with an open/closed heart before. Perhaps my open heart drew people in? Guarded people allowed themselves to be vulnerable, at least briefly. People softened in my presence, becoming more at ease. I witnessed all this and it was beautiful.

Anyway, my birthday sat at the finish line of those intense 5 days and I was too exhausted to celebrate, opting instead for a low-key day and postponing any celebration until the weekend. The love continued to pour, though, and my heart filled with gratitude for all the incredible thoughtfulness directed my way.  I felt light on my feet and special, special in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time. Maybe, and I’m only realizing this now as I type, it’s because for the first time I feel worthy.

I seem to have silenced the sabotaging voice that says I don’t deserve friends, or to be loved, or to feel special. I displayed in my living room all the birthday cards I received over the past week. I walk past them several times a day and I smile. Not only do the cards themselves express beautiful sentiments of love and friendship, but the words handwritten inside do as well. I’ve worked hard to repair, strengthen and create relationships. Can my interactions over the weekend and those cards and all the beautiful sentiments be proof I’m succeeding?

In letting people in and showing my authenticity I allow myself to be open and vulnerable. Maybe the law of attraction is at work here, after all. How can we receive anything if we’re not open? For so long I was closed off, angry, and defensive. Is it any wonder I didn’t receive anything but more negativity?

So I think Kathy’s right; it’s both. I’m easier to love now because I’m open to receiving love.

With love and gratitude,

Jessica

Are YOU open to receiving love? Are you living authentically? Give it a shot. Take off your armor when you’re ready, even one piece, and put yourself out there. You may be surprised how people respond when they can actually see you.

Today is my 34th birthday! So many people say their birthday is “just another day,” but I wholeheartedly disagree. Today is my day, a day to bask in a little special treatment and celebrate the blank page between the end of one chapter and the start of another. I don’t want to write the same chapter year after year and call it a novel. Today is my day to reflect back on what I’ve written all year in the book of my life and get excited for what’s to come! Here’s some highlights:

1. I was nominated, then elected Vice President of the South Jersey Writers’ Group
2. My story, “One For the Road” was published in Chicken Soup for the Soul: My Very Good, Very Bad Dog
3. I moved The Cracking Nut to its new home here and re-branded it (learning WordPress in the process).
4. I got a new car! My very first new car!
5. I identified a novel concept and “won” NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) by writing 50,000 words of said novel.
6. I started stand up paddle boarding and fell in love with the activity.

Aside from the car (which is not an indicator of recent success, by the way, but a sign that my 2002 was getting to a point of beyond repair) and the paddle boarding, seeing those highlights spelled out like this helps me realize that I have been doing a decent job working toward my goal of becoming a professional writer.  I definitely haven’t spent the year sitting on my ass. In fact, despite my lack of meaningful weight loss, I am happy to say I haven’t been sitting on my ass much at all.

Weaved throughout those highlights has been the continuation of this blog, continued efforts to minimize, and greatest of all, persistent work towards healing and living a gentler, happier, more compassionate life. Thirty-three was probably my very best year in terms of mental wellness, and I am so grateful for the amazing progress I have made in order to live more mindfully. Life was not good for a very, very long time. I was living the same angry, disappointed existence year after year and calling it my life. But there was no life… not by definition.

Now there is so much life… the capacity for growth and functional activity. Now there is light where there was only darkness.

Thirty-four… I think it’s going to be a good year. I’m old enough to know better, young enough to still have the world in front of me, as much as any of us can hope, at least. My goals remain the same: lose weight, write, learn, have fun, and be a good person.

I’ve done a bit of all those things in my 33rd year. In fact, I feel as if the past several days was a wonderful final exam for my 33rd year, testing much of what I have learned. It’s been an intense few days full of visits and family, many of whom I have not seen in a long time. I feel that I passed with flying colors, showing patience and compassion, self-care, understanding, forgiveness and love. I feel proud of myself.

But I’m tired. So my gift to myself today is self-love, in the form of nutritious food and a peaceful and happy low-key birthday.

I’m not only excited for the rest of my day, but the rest of my year, and the rest of my life. I am grateful for the opportunity to turn a year older – so many people don’t get the chance. This is another reason why today can’t possibly be “just another day.” Today is a beautiful birthday gift.

Guilty pleasure – what an asinine expression. I’ve used it, of course. But I’m going to stop because I’ve realized how awesome it is to be able to recognize what makes us happy. Many people can’t. We should be celebrating those things, not keeping them to ourselves or sheepishly admitting them in a whisper. We judge ourselves enough – do we really need to judge the things that give us and others pleasure, too? Do we really need more to be self-conscious and judgemental about?

I say hell no!

Dear Readers, I PLAY DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS EVERY OTHER THURSDAY NIGHT! (That’s me screaming from the mountaintop.) I have been embarrassed about this, admitting it with a laugh and making fun of myself before anyone else has a chance, but guess what? I love it! I get to play make pretend, be someone else and visit a fantasy world twice a month. Instead of judging me, you should be jealous! If it wasn’t fun, people wouldn’t play it. And guess what? Lots of people play it, and not just in their parents’ basements.

If we should be hiding anything, it should be our poor attitudes, sarcasm, judgements, and other crappy characteristics. But for some reason, that’s all completely acceptable. Instead we hide that which makes us happy if it’s not generally held in high regard.

Lame.

Last year I read Jenny Lawson’s Furiously Happy and the following stayed with me:

“It is an amazing gift to be able to recognize that the things that make you the happiest are so much easier to grasp than you thought. There is such freedom in being able to celebrate and appreciate the unique moments that recharge you and give you peace and joy. Sure, some people want red carpets and paparazzi. Turns out I just want banana popsicles dipped in Malibu rum.”

Jenny doesn’t fail to appreciate the good things in life. She is successful in recognizing what the good things in life are for her. Let the noise fall away and ask yourself: what are the good things in life for me? Who cares if it’s dipping saltines in grape jelly while reading People magazine. A lot of people like People, and the wonderful combo of salty and sweet. (I took that example from Sex and the City when the ladies are talking about the stuff they love to do but would never let their boyfriends see. Speaking of Sex and the City, I have seen every single episode of that brilliant show at least three times but when I’m scrolling through the guide on tv and I see it’s on, I still stop everything and turn up the volume. Day over! But I digress…)

I asked my Facebook friends what their guilty pleasures are. For my friend, the beer snob, it’s cheap and sweet Bud Light Lime-a-Ritas. For two of my old co-workers, it’s reality television. And I don’t mean the decent reality television like Top Chef (pleasure!), we’re talking about the BAD reality tv of hair pulling and spit hurling. I’ve listened to these women whom I adore and respect dissect the previous night’s episode of whichever horrendous show was on last with intense passion, as I sat laughing and wide-eyed. I love that they love bad tv!

For my writer friends, it’s comics, World of Warcraft and heaven forbid, Twilight fan fiction. Awesome! I love the idea of my friends putting their kids to bed at night and escaping to their bedrooms to anxiously indulge in these things! What would life be like without these simple pleasures that are always within our grasp?

For more than a decade my personal philosophy has been that life is made up of the little, wonderful things that are too often overlooked in search of something bigger. These “guilty” pleasures are some of those little, wonderful things!

Please, don’t overlook or look down upon those things that give you pleasure because you think they’re too little or held in low regard or worried what people will think. Pick those things up, embrace them, and shout them from the mountaintops. I have learned that people everywhere are looking for permission to do the things they enjoy. Look how popular adult coloring books have become! Someone was smart enough to say, “Hey, adults like to color!” And now they’re rich. But we needed the person who came up with the idea to give us permission to color again.

Middle-aged moms who dream of taking ballet class don’t because they talk themselves out of it even though there’s a dance studio two miles away. Men who love comics haven’t set foot in a comic book store because they feel they’ve outgrown them. If every time you’re in the checkout line you look longingly at gossip mags but you never buy them for whatever reason, I say buy them! Put away the groceries, make a beverage and settle in and see if Bennifer is really getting back together. (And let me know, okay? I heard they’re not – Ben wants to, but Jennifer is too smart for that.)

Enjoy the stuff that makes you happy, loud and proud! Let’s start a revolution!

Shout it from the mountaintops – or in the comments section – what’s your formerly-known-as-guilty pleasure?

I’ve been feeling energized, yet claustrophobic, like a sports car with a full tank of gas sitting in traffic. Despite all my minimalism efforts over the past year and a half, I was once again drowning in email and the ever expanding piles in my home office: unread magazines, novel research, books, paperwork, mail. The room is my sanctuary and I use it for yoga, reading, meditation and work. But recently, I couldn’t do any of those things without shuffling piles from one area to another to make room. I could sense my energy getting trapped and my sanctuary was no longer a place of peace. Tasks took longer than necessary and I felt overwhelmed. Something had to be done. And so I spent an entire day minimizing my office.

I started with my e-mail. Digital clutter is just as suffocating as physical, those ever increasing notifications flashing like alarms. I’ve spent many hours over the past two years deleting, filing, and unsubscribing from email, but the battle never seems to end. So much to read… Between my e-mail and magazines (I only have two subscriptions) I could spend an entire month reading and still not finish. But I’ll let you in on a little secret I learned: you don’t have to read all your email.

Before you say, “Yeah, no kidding, I delete more than half my email without even opening it,” know that I’m not talking about those e-mails – the sales, suggestions and free shipping opportunities. (By the way, you may want to unsubscribe from those.) I’m talking about the ones you want to read, those that you identify with that you think may have some secret tip, amazing news, hold the key to your success, feature the perfect pair of spring pants, suggest you follow someone on Twitter who might be your virtual soul mate and if you delete any without reading them you may have missed out forevvvverrrrrrrr… NOOOOOOOO!!

Guess what? You’re not missing out on anything, except having a clean inbox.

This is what’s really in most of those emails: Efforts to get you to buy something or buy into something and/or the same recycled information said a different way. Even if it’s really good, it will show up again or you can find it elsewhere. Those Pinterest suggestions for your carefully curated boards will come around again. Those Twitter suggestions… same. It’s all an algorithm. And don’t forget, you can always find what you’re looking for on a website or with a quick Google search.

It was thanks to that realization that I was able to search my inbox for everything from a writing coach I like, select all, and hit delete. I had been saving everything she sent (and she e-mailed daily), convinced that those e-mails held the key to my success. Well, I checked her website and all the info. was there. I bookmarked it and moved on with my purging.

Cleaning out and filing my e-mail felt so damn good, I wanted MORE. So I decided to take another minimizing pass at my office. No plans for Saturday and a dreary forecast –  PERFECT! Sitting on the train daydreaming about the cleanse, I had an idea. “Does the top half of my desk come off?” I texted my husband. And he, accustomed to random questions without any explanation responded “yes.”

Oh man, this was gonna be good!

I woke up Saturday with an energy and excitement unique only to the satisfaction of a great purge. I worked for ten hours, filing, sorting, consolidating, and rearranging. See the printer? I used it so seldom that the ink dried out so when I did need it, it was useless. I put it in the yard sale pile. The desktop? Maddeningly slow. I transferred all my files to USB keys and it’s being wiped and recycled. The entire hutch? Just a place to stick stuff that really isn’t needed or should be put away.

I craved space.

Beside that floral chair is a closet I couldn’t get into without fighting with the chair so although it was mostly empty, I didn’t use it. Not efficient. The chair got moved to another window out of view and now I can get in and out easily.

By the time I was done, I achieved what I had been craving. My sanctuary was restored and I created space. It was a day extremely well spent.

Now no time is wasted when I enter the room to do anything. There are no piles to shuffle in order to sit down at my desk or in my reading chair, no clutter preoccupying me when I meditate, nothing to move to roll out my yoga mat. Just organized, minimized, efficient, useful space. I walk in, set my coffee down, open my laptop and get to work.

I share this with you because it is my hope you may be inspired to create space in your own life. That printer, the hutch, the piles… they had become fixtures that I simply accepted, allowing them to take up precious space. Is something broken or useless taking up space in your home? Wouldn’t it feel good to get rid of it? You may think it’s not hurting anything. The printer wasn’t hurting me. But it wasn’t helping me, either. It wasn’t until I decided to toss it that I realized I could do away with the entire top half of my desk. Let the domino effect take shape and allow yourself to be inspired.

You may just find yourself with a sanctuary of your own.

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I recently bought a new car! Actually, I’m leasing it. That’s what works best for me at the moment, but I fully intend to buy it out at the end of my lease. I reminded the salesman of that when I picked up the car. He said, “Okay, great. But think back to your life three years ago.” I did, briefly. “A lot can change in three years.”

Point taken.

I wish there was someone to say that to the junior at University of Pennsylvania who walked in front of a train last week. The school year wraps up in a matter of weeks and she’d be going home for the summer presumably, the stress of the school year behind her. In one year, she’d be preparing for graduation. In two years she may have started a career and moved to a new city. In three years, she could have possibly been planning her wedding or a big vacation or… who knows. None of us know… she’ll never get to find out…

In times of stress it’s difficult to see our lives as anything more than what they are right then. Our focus is so narrowed that we’re unable to see outside of the situation nor light at the end of the tunnel. But the dark times pass. And stressful circumstances or not, life changes, and sometimes in ways that you least expect.

If you had told me in early July of 2004 that in less than two months I’d be living in Philadelphia, I would have laughed and said you were full of crap. At the time, I was waiting tables in central New Jersey at a popular restaurant. My heart had just been broken and my days were a constant cycle of double shifts followed by drinking and poker into the early morning, eat, sleep, repeat. I could see no way out of it.

But a phone call from a friend in Philadelphia changed that. “You have nothing going for you,” he said. “A few of us are renting a brownstone and need a fourth roommate. You can wait tables here until you find something better. The change will do you good.”

In August I moved to Philadelphia and started a job at a non-profit organization. Just like that, in the matter of six weeks, my entire life changed.

It was the best split-second decision I ever made. I needed something big to shake up my life and the move to Philadelphia was that exact thing.

Surely you can think of a few examples of shake ups in your life that resulted in great change and new opportunities. Some of them are nice surprises, like a phone call from a concerned friend, or falling in love with someone overseas. Some come disguised as tragedies, like broken hearts, broken bones, illness and death. Regardless, life’s surprises are inevitable and we are wise to view them, even the struggles, as opportunities. And to remember that life changes, and it does so quickly. Nothing stays the same, nor should we want it to!

Who knows where I’d be right now if I hadn’t moved to Philadelphia. I refuse to believe I’d still be waiting tables, but I doubt I’d be where I am now, with a career and a home and a husband… and a new car.

I wonder where I’ll be in three years…

Stay tuned.

P.S. It seems that the past several posts were not emailed to my subscribers – I’m so sorry! I’m told by tech support that the glitch has been fixed. Here are the posts you may have missed:

11 Quotes to Remember When Faced with Toxic People

Time We Break Our Own Rules

Having the Strength to Say When