An open letter to kinship and foster parents and group care staff

Dear___[your first name here]____,

I see how hard you are working to not lose your cool. I hear that you have lost your cool. I know how hard that first week was: How much school work needs to get done? How can you get more vitamin-rich food into your picky eaters? How can you find a minute to grab a shower? How do you explain Coronavirus and Pandemic to a child who suddenly lost their family visit this week? What about all  those field trips and outings that were planned? How does video technology work and what device can be used?

How do keep the group home clean when there is a 13 yo AWOL'ing every night and returning every morning? How do you keep up with the changing demands when the routines of your group home were turned upside down literally overnight. You have staff away sick and your throat feels scratchy and the new cleaning regime is a full-time job to itself. How will you get through this?

And that's on top of you trying to make meaning out of the things you suddenly just lost because we landed in the Age of Physical Distancing and also support other important people in your life.

As many of you are aware, scared and stressed adults scare children. The sense of safety for all of us is compromised by the pandemic. You are now in the unique situation of being The Central Adult who these scared and stressed children are looking to as a way to figure out how to respond. Even though the service team of case managers, family wellness workers, youth workers and therapists are here for you, it's suddenly only over the phone or by video call. I know it's not really enough.  

The children and youth we work with are highly sensitive to stress from adults in their environment and of course, that translates to their own nervous system acting in fight/ flight or collapse. Co-regulation depends on the adult finding their calm response and setting that tone with the child.

One of the most effective things caregivers can do is take two minutes to sit, close your eyes, breathe a few deep breaths and bring the activation of your own nervous system down some. 

Consider implementing a morning routine with yoga or meditation. If you encounter resistance, set-up an option for kids to be away from the group, but close enough to observe. Young teens might buck it, but many will welcome it. These kinds of relaxing techniques provide soothing and some will benefit from it greatly and perhaps use it for the rest of their lives. 

These are unusual times indeed, but it’s hard for me not to consider that this is also our time to shine as a dominantly compassionate species. Front line caregivers are such an important and unrecognized support to these vulnerable children and youth. 

My wish for you is that you will move past the cycle of heightened response- collapse and feel your feet on the ground and be able to take a breath. 

I see how hard you are working- often understaffed and over-stressed. 

I appreciate your hard work on behalf of the kids who don’t know how to thank you.

Thank-you. Thank-you. Thank-you~ from all of the children and youth and from me.

Warmly, 

Heather 

Ambiguous Loss (AL)

I don't want to write about this. Maybe I should have started with writing about "resistance". I feel a lot of resistance this weekend. And I'm cranky and sad and just slightly self-pitying. Are you with me yet?

I have SO much to be grateful for, but I will not shame myself for having feelings about losing my "normal life" (AL #1).

Until Sunday evening I was planning to have a modified-in-cleaning, but still regular-work-week.

And then they closed the schools.
Shit.

I had planned that when the schools closed I would stop seeing people in my lovely office space.  (I love sharing my office space- it's warm and cozy and I try my best to make it comfortable above all else. AL #2)

So quickly and under high stress I started to figure out video platforms for Tuesday morning while seeing the last of my in-person adults and rearrange my quickly changing calendar.

People also planning on "normal life" up and until Sunday evening cancelled their appointments. The mom coming to tell me about her family's mental health needs and begin some counseling services left a voice mail saying "I just don't have the mental space to talk about what I was coming in to talk about." (Yeah, I hear ya. Of course. No problem.)

And as my calendar started to fill up with the red bar of "cancelled" across the top of each session, I could feel my mobilized social worker heart move into decisive and concrete action: find a video platform; join groups related to telehealth counseling on social media; consider briefly ethical issues of secure platforms being down and decide some needed the counseling session more than they needed me to say, "I'm actually not allowed to use Facetime for mental health-type services." Ok, go- crisis mode. Mental health triage.

Intermittently I would struggle to keep the problem-solving part of brain going in the face of so many moving pieces and problems to solve.  I had SO many lists of what needed to be done to adjust to this new reality. I know many of you did too.

By Wednesday I had figured out what device and located where in my office would work best for talking comfortably with the 'normal' visual distance of an in-person session. (The answer is the art table with a lap top on the top of a sticker basket.)

And it was strange to hold space that way, but my social worker-therapist heart was committed. I wanted to be present for child and adult clients alike. I'm primarily child-led in my practice philosophy and it's a funny thing to keep up and nudge us along in video sessions. My young client went to her family's art area and started painting. (OK! I will paint too. Show me how you blend colors and I'll give it a try. Let's hold up our pictures.)

I felt so strangely tired after only a few video sessions in a row. I read from other therapists later, that we are straining harder to be present and attune when we are doing it across the screen. That made sense to me. My whole body was tight with focus different from in-person sessions where I am intentionally relaxing my body.

And that might be ambiguous loss #3, understanding the workings of my own internal sensations. Stephen Proges coined the term interoception to name this sense. I am highly practiced at looking inward and knowing where my conscious mind is relative to the situation and my emotional state; how my body is feeling and what I need or do not need.

BUT this week! What is that feeling?! And that one? WTF! I don't like that!

(Thank goodness for sessions-- when I focus on being present for someone else, that is still a familiar feeling even with the changed medium. Stay present and with the internal world and words of the person with you. Got it. Check!)

But the in-between times it's being overwhelmed with concern and frozen at the same time. It's feeling stuck and not even quite sure what list needs to be made. Its knowing I want to act, but feeling completely stuck in how to take the smallest step. In a phrase, it's activation and collapse.

These are not normal times. And my body responded as it was meant to-- for survival. Being overwhelmed to a certain degree will move us to be mobilized BUT only for so long in duration or intensity and then we move on to immobilization/ collapse. This is the foundation of Porges Polyvagal Theory. My experience was intense energy spent to be present in video sessions, writing emails and making phone calls and then at the end of the day, collapse.

My typical work evening routine includes sitting in my favorite chair with a tea tray and watching something neutral or funny on Netflix or other media. I often listen to music and write depending on what I am feeling or need. This week, I was completely unable to have any sensation in my ears or eyes at night. I couldn't find comfort in a show or a song because I couldn't tolerate the stimulus. So strange. (AL #4- comfort activities). Oh! That hits a nerve! How many of you have lost routine comfort activities- gym, rec centre, swimming pool, social outings, window shopping, cafe sitting? Yikes! Everyone of us is feeling that!

That's my view. What's yours? What hard-to-define and lost-without-closure-or-meaning-making loss are you feeling? You're welcome to comment from your own perspective about your own experiences if you would like. Be nice, of course. We're all in this together, friends.

Birth-Shame and Empathy

This post (slightly different version) was originally published as an article in Birthing (Calgary) in October 2013.

Birth-Shame and Empathy

Birth and shame aren’t ideas that usually go together. When we think of shame, we may wince or feel repulsed. We have all experienced shame at some time and thinking of it may cause an uncomfortable visceral reaction. Birth, on the other hand, although often misrepresented and oversimplified as a miracle, a battle survived or both, can immediately bring up a varied and emotional reaction in us. Our culture’s simplistic view of birth does not represent the multi-dimensional experience of most women. Birth fundamentally changes our sense of self. Many women would identify the first birth experience as the marker of changing from maiden to mother. And this transformative process can be as glorious as it is shame-triggering.

Dr. Brene Brown is a shame and vulnerability researcher and author from the University of Houston. She has written three books: I thought it was just me, but it isn’t (2007); The Gifts of Imperfection (2010) and Daring Greatly (2012). Brown has also recorded two TED talks: The Power of Vulnerability (2010) and Listening to Shame (2010). Her work provides a lens through which to understand birth-shame in our culture. Relying on my first birth experience and using the shame-resilience work of Dr. Brene Brown, I am going to offer a view of a different facet of birth, including strategies for how to help a woman through birth-shame.

(I could start a birth-shame meeting.) Hello. My name is Heather and I have shame about my birth. (Cough, sputter, choke!) I have had three children in two births. My first birth started as the ever important: “Midwife-Assisted Home Birth with Birthing Pool” (I’m awesome!) and more than 40 hours later was renamed: “Hospital Transfer with Epidural” (Epic failure?) The result of that process was my beautiful daughter, Isabelle, and the most extreme mixed emotions I have ever experienced:

I felt like I was in-love for the first time!

I was angry and upset about why the birth didn’t go ‘right’.

I felt broken as a woman that I couldn’t have the birth I wanted.

I felt alone and frustrated when people said: “But look what you have- a healthy beautiful baby!”

In the midst of this post-partum emotional storm and an inhumane lack of sleep, I struggled through the early days of breastfeeding. The emotional roller coaster rivaled nothing I had ever experienced and the underlying message of all my thoughts in those early weeks were: “I love this baby more than anything in the world” and “What the #*%@ is wrong with me?”

Understanding Shame
Brown describes shame as “the full-contact emotion” that may include physical symptoms such as knots in the stomach, nausea, shaking, flushing and wincing (Brown, 2007) Brown defines shame as “the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of acceptance and belonging” (Brown, 2007, 30). Shame says: I am not ____________enough. Fill-in the blank: good, worthy, deserving, healthy, informed, rich, skinny and so on (Brown, 2012).

Shame and guilt are very different although both are very uncomfortable feelings. Whereas guilt says: I did something bad, shame says: I am bad.  Guilt can be productive and keep our relationships in check. In guilt, we hold up our behavior against our values and self-evaluate. Guilt is adaptive and helps us to change our behaviour (Brown, 2007). We can grow and change for the better from a place of feeling we have done something that isn’t in line with our beliefs and values.

Shame, on the other hand, is the intensely painful belief that we are flawed- I am bad- and therefore unworthy of love and acceptance (Brown, 2007). It’s a feeling of being broken in a way that can’t be fixed. Shame is highly correlated with addiction, depression, violence and eating disorders. Brown says the three things to know about shame are: 1) it’s universal, we all experience it (except for sociopaths); 2) no one likes to talk about it; and 3) the less we talk about it, the more we experience it (Brown, 2012). Shame is felt the same for both men and women, but it is organized and understood differently by gender. According to Brown’s research, men’s experience of shame is about being perceived as weak or a failure. Men can feel forced to stay in a narrow box of what is considered masculine in our culture. Vulnerability and authentic emotional expression is misunderstood as weakness (Brown, 2012).

For women, shame is understood as a web of competing and conflicting expectations. Shame comes from being perceived as anything less than perfect in multiple and often conflicting areas of our life. For example, a woman can’t be the perfect employee and the perfect mother in the same moment and shame is the feeling she is left with: I’m not good enough. I can’t do it all (Brown, 2012).

The symptoms of shame sound like post-partum sleep deprivation and hormone overload: nausea, stomach ache, shakiness. How can I separate out all the emotional and physical feelings? But, “I’m not good enough as a mom”—that was the feeling I had after Isabelle was born! I didn’t recognize it then, but if I couldn’t even birth her like I intended, how could I be good enough as her mother?

Birth Preparation in a Culture of Scarcity
Brown describes the culture of scarcity as fuelling our ‘never_____ enough’ thinking. The components of a culture of scarcity include fear, comparison, shame and subsequent disengagement to protect ourselves from feeling vulnerable (Brown, 2012). We compare ourselves to others and are compared by others. When we feel we ‘aren’t _____ enough’, we are fearful of rejection and so disengage to protect our self from feeling vulnerable. When we are afraid to be vulnerable because the culture is one of harsh comparison and shame, we don’t take risks. We don’t act real and we don’t offer all we may have to offer. Brown asserts that this struggle with shame and avoiding vulnerability is shaping the culture we live in (Brown, 2012). There is less creativity and innovation and instead people keep up the status quo and try not to be noticed. This is true for our larger society as well as our smaller institutions of work, school, community and family (Brown, 2012).

Consider a girl who is raised in a culture of scarcity. She will develop vulnerability shields to protect herself from feeling fear, shame and disconnection. Perfectionism is one such vulnerability shield (Brown, 2012). Appearing perfect, or close to it, is an adaptive response and for a young woman to demonstrate her worthiness of belonging. Brown also refers to this as the “hustle for worthiness”. Racheal Simons, in her book, The Curse of the Good Girl  states, "Many of the most accomplished girls are disconnecting from the truest parts of themselves, sacrificing essential self-knowledge to the pressure of who they think they ought to be" (p. 28). The culture of scarcity feeds the good-girl/ gold-star thinking. For example, a young girl in school may not feel good enough or worthy of belonging (shame) and so she performs at an extraordinary level (appears perfect) in order to get the accolades (gold stars, approval and acceptance) which allow her to feel worthy. This is the good-girl’s modus operandi for the demonstration of her value and assured acceptance.

Now consider this girl-as-a-woman 6 months pregnant and preparing to give birth.

In this culture of scarcity, when a woman is pregnant and considering birth options, the message of ‘never_______ enough’ will inform her: “You will not be safe enough. You will not know enough. You/ your body are not trustworthy enough.” From this place, a woman may be fearful and disengaged and allow decisions to be made solely by health care providers. A woman may forfeit her right to autonomy over her body and be disconnected from her own self-knowledge. The culture of scarcity questions a woman’s capacity to have her own wisdom or any input. This is illustrated in the Monty Python movie, The Meaning of Life: The woman is on a table about to give birth and asks the doctor, “What do I do?” The response is, “Nothing, dear. You’re not qualified.” The message: you don’t know enough.

What about a woman who is able to move past this never enough thinking? Brown states that when we are able to get out of scarcity thinking and choose to push into new areas, shame runs another tape: Who do you think you are?  This is shame saying: stay small; don’t get too big for your britches. When a woman chooses non-normative circumstances for her birth, her decision may be viewed as subversive and upsetting to those around her. This may be reflected by messages from family and friends. Although their love and concern is genuine, their message is often well-steeped in the scarcity culture of never enough thinking.

When good-girl/ gold-star thinking is applied to an upcoming birth, the self-talk goes something like this: “I am going to research birth and choose the best way to birth. I am going to make sure that this birth is safest or most natural or most medically attended there has ever been. I will be great at this. I’ve read the most highly recommended books. I’ve got the best doctor/ midwife/ doula and I’ve done all the best birthing classes.”

Hmmmm…the culture of scarcity fits. I know these messages. I had been a pretty classic ‘good-girl’ through my younger years. I hate admitting it, but I probably took all that passion to achieve and do it ‘perfectly’ into my pregnancy. When I wasn’t feeling fearful, making comparisons and worried about being good enough, I might have been looking for the way to make my birth the most natural, relaxed, fear-less A+ gold-star birth that I could.

A midwife once told me that a woman in labor is a woman in labor. It doesn’t matter what she does in her daily life- artist, accountant or nurse- it’s all the same in labor. This is very bad news for the woman with good girl/ gold star thinking. The labyrinth path of labor is about letting go and trusting. It’s impossible to be perfect and vulnerable at the same time; to hear the whispers of ‘never enough’ and let go.

In the early post-partum days, I thought: I should have stayed home longer. I should have spoken up more. My body betrayed me. I wasn’t mentally strong enough or physically fit enough. I didn’t let go enough. I didn’t go inside enough. I wasn’t fearless enough.

Elements of Shame Resilience
Dr. Brown’s shame resilience model has four elements: 1) Recognizing shame and understanding triggers; 2) practicing critical awareness; 3) reaching out; and 4) speaking shame (Brown, 2007). It is not a linear process and we move back and forth between elements when sorting out shame (Brown, 2012).

The first element is to recognize shame. That is, to know when we are in it and what it feels like in our bodies (Brown, 2007). When we feel shame, can we recognize it and see what messages triggered it? Brown identifies twelve categories of shame triggers: appearance and body image, motherhood/ fatherhood, family, parenting, money and work, mental and physical health, sex, aging, religion, being stereotyped, speaking out and surviving trauma (Brown, 2007). Pregnancy and birth is a minefield of shame triggers. Body image, sex, mothering are all potential areas of shame triggers. Indeed, any of these categories of shame triggers could come up for a woman during pregnancy and birth.

The second element, practicing critical awareness, refers to stepping back and seeing from a bigger perspective (Brown, 2007. It’s a process of reality-checking. Are the messages that are driving our shame realistic? Did the messages originate in the culture of scarcity and come to us via our family of origin or the media? Related to birthing, especially changing birth plans or increased birth interventions, it’s important to understand the bigger picture of the culture in which we birth. It’s also important to know the facts of each of our specific situations and the multitude of factors that contribute to the birth process.

The third element of shame resilience, reaching out, refers to seeking out someone who has earned the right to hear our story and who will be able to respond with empathy (Brown, 2007). Briefly, empathy is a skill set that involves taking another person’s perspective, staying out of judgement and communicating an understanding of the underlying emotion (Brown, 2007 citing Wiseman 1162). Empathy is the antidote to shame and reaching out means reaching out to someone who can do that for us.

This fourth element, speaking shame, means that we call shame by its name when we recognize it. Shame is not guilt, embarrassment or humiliation. It is not depression, anger or anxiety. Shame relies on being kept secret and it grows in silence (Brown, 2007). However, when we can call shame by its name, it withers (Brown, 2012). The tricky part is you can’t meet another person’s shame head on. It can cause more shame. Instead you can help a person sort out their feelings and when you hear ‘not____ enough’ thoughts and feelings, you can help to name it. Empathy is the key to this process (Brown, 2007).

I had lots of feelings after the birth, but the feeling that I hadn’t birthed well enough and therefore wasn’t good enough as a mom was shame. It would have been helpful for me to be able to name it then. I wouldn’t have wanted someone else to point it out explicitly, but that was the core of my struggle. Critical awareness came after the fact, when I confirmed that Isabelle’s fetal position was associated with long hard labors. It wasn’t just me! I wasn’t the only factor in the messy process of labor and birth. Having a bigger perspective of understanding the culture of scarcity or even reflecting on the birth films I watched during pregnancy, helped me see that there were messages about labor and birth expectations that fueled my post-partum shame.

Empathy
Shame withers when it is named and shrinks to nothing when it is met with empathy (Brown, 2007). The elements, reaching out and speaking shame require another person who is able to provide an empathetic response. Empathy is a skill set and it is often not our first response (Brown, 2007). To understand empathy, consider the following responses^[1]:

Mother/ MIL/ Aunt/Grandma: You shouldn’t have tried to labor at home. It certainly was better that you ended up at the hospital and you were safe. I would hate to think what could have happened.

Friend who just had home water birth with triplets while riding a unicycle: I’m so sorry that you had to have those interventions; you poor thing.

Sister/Cousin/Helpful friend: It was hard, but at least you have a beautiful baby now and that’s the main thing.

The first response is judgement. The second response is sympathy where the person is feeling bad for you, but not with you (Brown, 2007). The third response, Brown refers to as, “at least”  and it discounts and jumps over the feeling of shame. All of these responses are about the other person’s own discomfort with shame. Judgement is super-powered by the culture of scarcity. We make comparisons so that we may feel better about our self. We judge in areas where we feel inadequate. The discomfort of not feeling good enough can be partially discharged through judging another. The thinking is: “I may not feel good enough, but compared to her (right now), I’m great!” The difficulty is that this only further feeds into the culture of scarcity.

Sympathy is different from empathy. Sympathy can actually feed feelings of shame. Sympathy is about standing far away from the pain of the other person and saying: I feel bad that you are way over there. (And I am definitely not over there with you.) Sympathy then leaves the person in shame feeling even more alone and unworthy of love and acceptance (Brown, 2007).

The third response, ‘at least’, is a form of flood lighting where the person shines a bright light on all that is good and pretends there is no shame. This is a very popular post-partum response to mothers. It can also fuel shame because the new mother now has the shame of not being grateful enough and a further feeling of: “What’s wrong with me? I’m supposed to be happy.” None of the above responses are helpful because they don’t acknowledge the underlying emotion.

Here is an empathic response:

I know you really wanted to birth at home and things didn’t go as you expected. That’s hard. It sounds like you are feeling disappointed and defeated.

A conversation can go on from there as a listener asks questions about what the woman feels or what she thinks could have been different. Empathy doesn’t require that you have had the exact same experience (Brown, 2007). The key is to look under the incident that triggered shame and to identify the emotions. As an empathetic listener, you may not have even given birth, but you know what it’s like to feel disappointed or defeated because those are universal feelings. You can convey your understanding of those feelings. You can be very helpful by facilitating the woman’s exploration of her emotions. Emotional logic, especially as it relates to shame, has its own rules. Emotional logic is not logical. Although a woman may need help with critical awareness and gaining perspective, she first needs to feel understood.

Empathy also doesn’t have to be a rehearsed set of words. Empathy might be conveyed in a knowing glance or with a hug (Brown, 2007). Perhaps the only thing a friend can say is: “I know you’re having a hard time. I don’t know what to say, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. We’ll get through this.” Brown says that if you have one or two friends to whom you can reach out, share a shame story and receive a genuine emphatic response you’re fortunate (Brown, 2007). This is the inner sanctum of your emotional world and it isn’t likely that there are many who have earned the right to hear your most vulnerable feelings and who can meet them with empathy.

After Isabelle’s birth I felt terrible, but I was also confused about what I was feeling.  I had two close friends who could listen and help. One male friend offered that in transferring before I was ready, I missed out on the female equivalent of ‘slaying the lion to prove I’m a man’. I totally felt like that! I felt like I dropped out of the marathon before I was ready and I was profoundly disappointed. It was a relief to have that reflected back to me.

My closest female friend understood my convoluted feelings well and easily conveyed that. She agreed that I probably could have stayed home longer, but it was a hard call for all of us. She reminded me of the facts: dehydrated with no more IV bags at home, ROP fetal position, 30 hours of labor before we transferred, political push and pulls of the day. I knew she understood my feelings and further she gave me perspective in reflecting back the ambiguity of the situation. It was a relief to have facts in the middle of my birth-shame storm.

Wrapping up
Feeling unworthy is the crux of shame. It is relayed to us through messages from the culture of scarcity and internalized as self-deprecating thoughts (Brown, 2012). When we become a mother for the first time and stare into those beautiful eyes, every imperfect part of our self is reflected back. In that reflection, it is easy to think we aren’t worthy enough of the great love we feel. However, we need to find a way[2] to feel worthy of this love because this is the way we show our child the same:  I love you, not in spite of your imperfection, but because of it. Your imperfection is what makes you who you are. You are always worthy of my love. You are always worthy of belonging to me.

If we teach our children to believe they are worthy of love and belonging we might change the world. But we can only do this by letting them see that we too, believe that we are worthy of great love and belonging^[3].

---

[1] Fortunately I didn’t hear most of these after Isabelle’s birth. These are illustrative.

[2] For more information, see Brown’s book, The Gifts of Imperfection.

[3] See Neff (2003) for more about self-compassion.

Heather Mackay is a provisional clinical social worker in private practice in Edmonton, Alberta. You can read more about her at: www.pointonthepath.com or reach her at Heather.pointonthepath.com
This article originally appeared in Birthing Magazine. 

Works Cited

Brown, Brene. Daring Greatly. New York: Gotham Books, 2012. Print.

---. I thought it was just me, but it isn’t. New York: Gotham Books, 2007. Print.

---. Listening to shame. TED2012. Long Beach, CA. Filmed March 2012.

www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_lisening_to_shame.

---. The Gifts of Imperfection. Centre City, MN:  Hazelden,  2010. Print.

---. “The power of vulnerability.” TEDxHuston. Huston, TX. Filmed June 2010.

www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.

Neff, Kirstin. “Self-compassion: An alternative conceptualization of healthy attitude

toward oneself.” Self and Identity, 2003: 85-101.

Simmons, Rachel. The Curse of the Good Girl. London: The Penguin Press, 2009. Print.

The Meaning of Life. Dir. Terry Gilliam. Terry Jones. Perf. John Cleese. The Monty Python

Partnership, 1983. Film.

Wiseman, Teresa. “A concept analysis of empathy.” Journal of Advanced Nursing, June 1996:1162-1167. Print.

It's the end of the world...and I feel fine!

We have been celebrating winter solstice-December 21st, the shortest day of the year- as a nuclear family for many years now. Its a quiet day just for us and we leave December 25th for my parents' traditions and extended family.

This year is a little different- we built a labyrinth in the backyard. I love it. I walk past every time I leave the house for the car and every time I come home again. My metaphorical spiritual path is much more in my awareness when my physical representation is right there all the time!

So, partly with those thoughts, I started reading 'the stuff' about December 21st. In 2012.

It's the end of the world! It's the second coming! It's when earthlings will make contact with aliens! And if we live through all of those predictions, it's the beginning of a New Era.

I suppose my reading should have, at best left me jaded and, at worst left me fearful or scared, but it did neither. I feel FINE! In fact, I feel ELATED! What a relief! Maybe we can get past the end of the world language. Maybe we can move past it and into whatever this New Era will be.



I was born in 1971. For as long as I can remember the world was ending. I grew up with the Cold War and then the beginning popularity of environmental awareness- the end of CFCs (who knew my big hair in the 1980's/ hairspray was killing the earth?) and the beginning of popular recycling and various environmental reforms.

But... before we had time to collect ourselves, everyone was carrying on about Y2K. The world was ending because the digital world we created wouldn't be able to cope. We lived past the clicking dial of December 31, 1999 and so did our ATM machines and PCs. We saw January 1st, 2000 and so did our extra supplies of bottled water and canned food.

I know we are hardly past the threats to the earth. I know that threat of the escalation of conflict (used to be called war) and the threat to the environment exist in this moment while I'm writing. In both areas things have not come far enough fast enough and threat is still there. I don't minimize the important issues that require attention and advocacy, but I don't think that they are likely to kill us by any instant dramatic means either.


And so there is something about the anticipation of December 21,2012 that leaves me relieved and hopeful.

At the very worst anything bad will have happened and we'll be dealing with it. At the best, the sun will rise on the 22nd and things will look relatively the same (most likely scenario!). The governance model of the planet won't have changed. We won't be ruled by aliens. And we won't have disappeared- wafting away in smoke as the last day of the Mayan calendar has passed.

What will have happened is simply that we will have survived another numerical designation of our doom. Will the problems all be solved? Of course not. However, we will have arrived at another important milestone in our collective human history. We will have lived to say: "I survived the end of the world."


I'm elated, perhaps in part, from ignorance. I don't know of any other markers coming in my lifetime that are predicting the death of all humanity as we know it. The December 21, 2012 prediction was a bit of a left over from the turn of the Century in my view. We made it through. That's it people. Now it's time to just live.

Stop worrying about who will be judged and who will be condemned. Stop worrying about eternal hell or being made a martyr or a saint on Earth. It will be time to move ahead. Into the New Era? I hope so.


I'm also elated because it brings all those bits and pieces in my own life back into perspective. Who the hell cares what is clean in the house and what is not if the world is ending?

Q: What's important if I have only 2 weeks to live *as-I-am-now*?

A:  Love.
     Being enough.
     Knowing that I am, and all the people I love are... Enough.

There are no children that need teaching, molding, changing. There is no husband who needs to hear me or do this or that. There are no imperfect relationships in my life. And really everything else is just non-sense.

If it's the end of the world as I know it? Well, I feel fine.

Let's start anew. If you're still here on December 22nd and things are pretty much as they are now, consider committing to these ideas:

1. There is nothing that needs to change in my life.

2. I love who I am and where I am at even though it's imperfect, messy and not exactly like a picture from a magazine/ movie/ Facebook.

3.  I will share with the people around me the authentic person that I am and not some image of the person I think they will accept.

4.  I will accept *all* people around me as they are and love them for their effort without judging them for not being the image I want them/ need them to be.

If that brings us to a New Era, one that will be seen 2000 years from now as turning point past the domination of individualistic thinking and one that begins radical self-acceptance and community-oriented thinking, that's the best 'end-of-the-world' gift I can imagine.

Because it is only when I consider myself, others and my planet with acceptance and compassion that I can truly influence anyone or anything. 

Whew. Truth! Let's move on, shall we?

Labyrinths

I haven't posted in a long time. Earlier this month I had the chance to go to Maui. While I was there, I and 18 colleagues- admin staff, social workers and nurses- visited The Sacred Garden owned and operated by Eve Hogan, author of The Way of the Winding Path. What a treat!

We listened to Eve talk about the labyrinth as a metaphor for the way we lived our life and few other metaphorical stories to capture our imaginations and allow us to think in new ways. While we were there, we had a chance to walk her 11-circut labyrinth modeled after the Chartres Cathedral in France.

It was a pleasure to walk it with my fellow co-workers and it did indeed reflect a lot of what I have been feeling about my role at the clinic and allowed for an opportunity to pause in time and place and reflect.

What I want to talk about now though is the labyrinth I have busily been working on for the last several days.

 

I came home and within days went to work on a snow labyrinth in my backyard. Well if walking a labyrinth is a metaphor for how we live in the real world, I can tell you that much more so is the making of a labyrinth. 

I started out with the idea and then told Steve, my wonderful husband. He had lots of input, but wasn't rushing to make it for me. I decided it *needed* to be built and headed outside on a mild Sunday morning. I was trying to make it while being followed around by my 9-year-old twins. I love them dearly, but in a middle of this project all I could say was: "This isn't relaxing yet. This is very stressful, you need to stop talking. I'm trying to do math!" I was being completely ignored by my 11 1/2 year-old daughter. 

I marked out the pattern of where the walls would go by walking the diagram in my hand. No problem. Then I tried to invert it. I needed to make the part that was my foot tracks into walls the parts that were currently raised into paths! This might not be my thing. Did I mention that I *needed* to build the labyrinth? The design wasn't complicated, (classic 7-circuit design), but the inversion was tricky. Was I supposed to put a little wall of snow here or there? Where were the lines and where was the path going to be?

Steve sat quietly out of the way in his office until I called into the back hall and down the stairs (while the 9-year-olds were giving me advice about it all). I couldn't come in to the house too far since I was covered with snow... and determined! Steve came out and followed the drawing like a puzzle to assist me in where the walls would be. You can't tell from the picture here, but when Steve came out, I had the first wide ring of lights; then a ring of a rope; a ring of the garden hose that might have a leak; then a ring of lights that don't seem to work; then a ring of the lights that do work, but aren't plugged in.... all in an attempt to figure out where to stomp down the snow to make a path. Oh, and there were some weird blue lines in the snow made by a spray bottle with blue dye. It kept the twins busy, but I have one sink permanently stained blue.

Steve came out and helped with the end part. He solved the puzzle! It was just about a project that would have no ending (literally, since the labyrinth pattern was wrong and kept going in a never-ending circle!) Just when I thought it couldn't be built, Steve came out and declared it a working labyrinth. It all came together! I took this picture and put it on FB, declaring a success!

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Then it snowed. Then I went to walk it. 

I had made a goat path! How could I have invited people over to walk it? I could barely put one foot in front of the other in some places. It might be the most lame labyrinth of the entire arctic wintery history! This is terrible. 

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Finally a few days later I had a day off. I went out with a spade, an edger (think: for sod) and a kids size shovel (the perfect width, but a short handle). I spent two hours carving the snow and increasing the width of the paths! What a life reflection! 

First I started around the wide outside edges. No problem. Man! Am I good! People are going to come to this labyrinth walk and think I'm great. They are going to LOVE it! This is wonderful! I am wonderful! 

Then I got tired. I was really sweating under all my fleece at -15 C! What was I thinking? I shouldn't have people over. They are going to judge this, but tell me it's fine. Its not fine!

Okay, I can do this. Its hard, but really love what I'm doing. I'm SO happy to have a labyrinth in my backyard. Who cares what people think? This is fantastic. I am literally carving out my spiritual journey. I need that. My clients need that-- carving out time and space for oneself. This is important (but really hard) work that I am doing. Its so pertinent to personal development. I'm on a roll! 

I started to get REALLY tired, but I was getting closer to the middle- only three more circuits to go. I can't believe that the paths are this narrow. What was I thinking when I made this? Why would I have done such a terrible job? People won't be able to pass on this walkway. I'll do it better next year. Who am I kidding? I won't make this again. This is way too hard. I should give up now. I can't keep shoveling out these paths. They are too narrow and the snow is too powdery to stay up on the little walls. I should just go in and forget about it. 

Then I cleaned out the snow in the centre. 

I can do this. Look where I am. Who else can say that they physically created a spiritual path? Really! I HAVE A LABYRINTH! This should make the news. This is great! This is the best thing of the year! I actually did it! Do I have enough pictures? One picture won't be enough. I should take more. I wonder how I could get more lights. (ie: 'not enough' thinking- even though I had a lot!).

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Then I walked the labyrinth. I went inside first actually. I took a shower, changed and ate lunch. I felt rejuvenated. I went out to visit my new-and-improved-paths. I walked along the outside edges and I walked along the inside edges listening to mediation music on my phone. I felt satisfied. I kept thinking about who else would come and walk this labyrinth before it melted? How much joy could the labyrinth mete out before it was gone and the girls' trampoline was in its place? Nothing lasts forever, but I will enjoy this while I can. Holy cow! I am SO lucky!

I came to the middle of the labyrinth and paused with a deep breath. I felt the brightness of the sun on my face. And I felt the cold wind on my cheeks. It was still -15 and now it felt like it. 

"I have arrived!",  I thought.

"I am surrounded by the warmth and beauty of my family and my home and my yard."

"I am grateful for all that I have."

"I am enough. 

I have enough.

I do enough."

Ahhh.... Enough. Is there a better word in the English language? 

Now its time to go in and make supper. 

No pretense. No self-doubt. No judgement. Just living to live. Just walking the sacred path because it is carved. Feeling satisfied. It is carved because I chose it to be. How lucky am I? SO lucky! This will only stay a short while and I will appreciate every minute of it. I promise. :-)

With love,

Heather.

The dark passage of grace

Every midwife knows
that not until a mother’s womb
softens from the pain of labour
will a way unfold
and the infant find that opening to be born.
Oh friend!
There is treasure in your heart,
it is heavy with child.
Listen.
All the awakened ones,

like trusted midwives are saying,
'welcome this pain.
It opens the dark passage of Grace.
~Rumi

 

The truth of this quote is ancient. It is the first step on the path of enlightenment; it is the foundation of therapy; it is the key to happiness!

We all do it. We see the pain. We smell the pain. We have a bit of a sense of the pain and we walk away in the other direction. We keep ourselves busy and distracted. We avoid. We numb. We complain. We do anything we can to avoid taking the first step. That is the step into and *through* the pain. 

The mistake we make is in falsely believing that if we feel the feelings of the pain we will never return. We falsely believe that if we move into the pain we will either break in a way that we can't be fixed or be lost in a way that we can't be found. 

Imagine this: (I wish I could draw on a blog).

Numb/ Avoid          <-----    YOU ------> PAIN    ------->     Everything you dreamed possible.

Misery                                                        

2 x 4 over the head

 

We go in the opposite direction of the pain.  We are not happy. We might even be miserable, but it is a misery with which we are familiar and so we keep at it. 

In the numbing and avoiding we are living our lives, but are not happy. We feel stressed, rushed, in survival mode, unable to keep up. We are spinning our wheels in obligation. Trying to get by. We feel alone and depressed or angry and resentful. We have no time for self-care: eating well, exercising, self-reflection and self-love.


We won't take time to stop and when we do stop, we numb.

I think of hitting oneself over the head with a 2 x 4. We keep doing what we have always done because we are so afraid to put down the 2 x 4. Even though what we are doing hurts us we don't know what we would do if we weren't doing this. We are afraid of the PAIN and we are afraid of what is on the other side of it. The void on the other side is a fear only second to the PAIN.

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This is the first step- put down the avoiding/ numbing/complaining behaviors. Dare to walk away from the misery. 

Then you will have to see the PAIN. You will have to admit to the whiff in the air of the thing you are trying to avoid. Each person's pain carries it's own name, but after exploring you will call it worthlessness. You will see that the misery comes from avoiding the feeling that without the misery you feel worthless. This is the reason for the fear of the pain. This is the core of the pain for each of us. It is a part of the human condition.

The recognition of this is the pain akin to labor in childbirth. This is the pain you are avoiding. And it is in moving through this pain that you will find grace. 

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Grace = Exhale. (Take a big breath right now. Allow an exhale. Try it.) 

This is the place of redemption. It is in this grace that you will find the gift of self-forgiveness. You will pay-off the debt: the price you have been paying in misery.

You will be free to feel the love of which you are apart. The greater love of the world- the stuff that is the binding force of connection between us all.

This is the place of worthiness. Of knowing: your value is demonstrated in simply being. There is nothing you need to do to be of value. You simply are. And that is enough.

This is a place of self-realization or divine love. By all names it is the same place and it is waiting for you.

********

It is in this grace that you will find that all of your dreams are possible. You belive this will be a scary place to go. You are afraid of what you will find when you see the treasure of your heart and the vastness of this love.

 I will tell you the name of this place: it is a life of ease. A place where you can create the life you can't yet imagine. It is a place where there is no striving to keep up and survive; no need to struggle to prove your worth. In this place you can be who you are and live without fear of the PAIN.  You no longer need to avoid/ numb/ complain. You can create the life of your dreams.

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I invite you to explore this place (even though you may not think it applies to you). You may accept and yet spend many hours outside the door of PAIN examining the edges and thinking about the frame's construction. Vacuuming the rug you imagine to be right outside this door. I know. I have been there. I have thought the door would not be worthwhile. 

I urge you to know that it is simply by walking through and facing the truth of this PAIN that you will move through into the place of your dreams- a place where you discover the treasure within your heart and the vastness of great love.

It is with great love that I leave you with these thoughts. 

Heather. 

The heart of attachment

 I trust you with my vulnerability. 

This is the heart of the matter of attachment: I trust you with my vulnerability. I show you all of  who I am: The worst of me and the best of me; the part of me without a mask.

I trust that when I show you this, you will not repel. You will not look away. You will not pretend that I didn't just show you and keep on with other conversation.

I trust that you will not respond to me with harshness or with criticism. When I am vulnerable with my feelings I trust that you will not tell me I should "get over it" or my feelings are wrong. Feelings can't be wrong, but they can be dismissed and that hurts.

I trust that you will not take for granted this part of me that I am sharing with you. I trust that you won't be careless or reckless with this delicate part of me. 

I trust that you will listen and that you will do your best to say that you understand. Or in those times that you don't understand what I am saying, you will simply say: I'm here for you. I will listen and I will be with you. 

When I show you who I am or when I express my feelings or my needs, I am sharing my vulnerability with you. I want you to know that when I do this, I am offering a gift and not a problem. 

I don't mean to be an inconvenience. Maybe I am 92 years old and I am wondering if my concerns will be deemed as unworthy and dismissed as dementia. Maybe I am 2 months old crying alone wondering when I will be held again. I don't want to be a nuisance or a headache. I am trying to tell you who I am and I am sharing with you all of who I am.

I love you. I am attached to you. I am connected to you. All of this means: I trust you with my vulnerability. Hold it carefully and appreciate the gift as it is given.

Does it always look so soft? No. Sometimes I am lashing out- afraid of trusting. Sometimes I am yelling or criticizing or throwing a tantrum. Sometimes I am fearful that you cannot hold this gift I offer gently and so I start right off with a fight or with blame. I am ashamed that when I show you all of who I am, you will reject it and so I try to make it something to be repelled or rejected. Sometimes my fear of this delicate vulnerability that I hold is so great, it looks like I am angry with you. But I am not angry. I am afraid. Anger is only the cover. Really underneath the anger and the tantrum is the fear of my vulnerability being rejected. That you will see all of who I am- those moments of weakness- and you will reject me.

Please understand that at the heart of my connection to you; at the heart of my attachment to you is the yearning to trust you with my vulnerability.

Show me how I can be and not be afraid. Show me how I can share with you this innermost part of attachment/ connection/ love and trust you with all of who I am-- trust you with my vulnerability.