I’m so proud of you!

“I am so proud of you!” one of my sisters said to another in an email this morning, and I got all teary.

I probably wouldn’t have gotten all melty if she had just said “great job!” (although it was)  or “you’re amazing!” (although she is) or “I’m so happy for you (although we are); it was something about that phrase “I’m proud of you.” 

Something like:

  • I acknowledge the effort it took you to get to this place
  • Your success means something to me
  • I gently claim an interconnection with you
  • I honor who you are (including and beyond your accomplishments)

Of course my sister may not have meant any of that (although I suspect she did), and not everyone says “I’m proud of you” with a supportive tone of equality and deep appreciation for the “proudee”… but that’s what I heard today, and it moved me.

We could use more sincere “I’m proud of you”s in this culture.  We so easily praise end-result accomplishments and tend to overlook  the intricate maneuvers of the process (which sometimes includes an almost complete re-shaping of the person)  it takes to get there.

And just as importantly… perhaps if we get better at “I’m proud of you” with others, we’ll learn how to bring it home to ourselves.  

Healing old pain(s)

I tweaked the hell outta my shoulder a few days ago.

This happens from time to time, a flare-up of my “Impingement Syndrome” — a painful rotator cuff reminder of my grueling years as a landscaper slinging mulch bags and whatnot.

Stuff in my shoulder that’s supposed to move smoothly gets all scrapey and inflamed … and my shoulder, neck, and back muscles on that one side ache and complain and get all bunched up into a quite painful mess of knots.

As my dear sweet wife (Hi, Toonces!) said to me this morning as I turned my entire body to look at her, “Honey, you’re falling apart!!!” Sigh.

My initial care plan was to pretend there was nothing wrong with my shoulder. Go to the gym as usual — keep that shoulder moving to loosen everything up, try to ignore the shooting pain when lifting my arm… or putting it down… or moving my head… or just sitting there doing nothing.

Day 2: Roll over in bed to turn off alarm and gasp in pain. Decide to try different care tactic: try not to move the shoulder at all. Pin that elbow (figuratively!) to my side and conduct all shoulder shifts as an entire right-side movement. Try to ignore the deep ache throughout shoulder joint and surrounding muscles. Think constantly about the muscles on that cadaver I dissected in college, picturing each striation of muscle running down my back and thinking about the irony of having a painful trapezius when the last thing I could do right now is hang from a trapeze…. because of that damn trapezius muscle.

Day 3: Roll over in bed to turn off alarm and gasp in pain. Decide to try different care tactic: Work with the pain (not against it). Take it easy on the arms at the gym and pick on the legs instead. Make all head and shoulder movements carefully, gently. Vary shoulder position when typing. Get a heating pack and melt the pain into submission. Sleep on the other side. Remind myself to sit up before rolling over to turn off the alarm in the morning.

And here we are, day 4 – shoulder smiles in between the aches. Range of movement has improved. Fresh scone and Americano at the coffee shop easily sweep away remaining awareness of pain. Healing has indeed begun.

That’s how it works with emotional injuries too.

Old wounds get tweaked into present pain, and our feelings get all scrapey and inflamed.

We pretend nothing’s wrong, powering through the emotional gunk that’s risen to the surface. We put our fingers in our ears, squeeze our eyes tightly shut, and wishfully proclaim “I can’t seeeeeee you!”

And the heart pain mounts.

So we decide simply not to use our feelings … at ALL. We attempt to go numb by over-eating, over-TV-ing, over-drinking, over-this-that-or-the-other-ing.

And the heart pain mounts.

So we decide to work with the pain. We look it in the eye, take a deep breath, and tell it “I’m listening – what do you need?” We spend time with it, we honor it, we give it an attention time limit, lovingly melt it into submission, and we begin (again) to heal.

Oh, it will likely come back — most deep wounds need several rounds of resurfacing to build their layers of healing — but for today, for this present moment, we heal.

A Healing Lesson from a Bonked-out Bird

This morning there was a small bird in our gym, flying around unable to find his way to the open door.  This gym is round with all glass walls, so he kept flying into the glass.

Thud… flutter flutter… 

It broke my heart, watching his struggle.  I just wanted to be able to tell him that he’d be ok, that we’d get him outta there.

The gym owner was trying to catch him with a big ole towel, but no luck (even when the bird took a walk under the treadmills).

Eventually in one of his flights, the little guy conked himself into a daze. I dashed over there and scooped him up. His little eyes were closed, but heartbeat felt strong, ohthankgod.  (My wife asked later, “Was there any blood?”  No.  In case you wondered.)

I carried him outside, stroking his soft little head and whispering “It’s ok little guy, you’re ok, you’re ok.”  He opened his eyes, but didn’t struggle, which concerned me.

I set him down in the little garden outside the gym, beside a purple-blooming Dianthus plant, and he just kinda leaned over so I propped him up. After telling him to hang in there, I reluctantly but with a full heart went back to my workout.  It had been such a gift to get to hold the little guy and carry him to a place I guessed might comfort him in his grogginess.

When we came out of the gym about 30 minutes later, that little feathered sweetie was sitting at the same spot I left him.  Just as we got close to him, he looked at me and flew off into the nearby River Birch tree. I cheered. Out loud. :)

Sandy shook her head, but (god bless that woman) totally grinned and said “Omg, you’re the Bird Whisperer!”

Well, ok, I may have been a little pleased with myself for infusing life (?!) into the little guy.  But that’s not the point here.

The point is that it’s now 6 hours later and my heart is still wide open.

Enough so that there’s no room for fear, or disappointment, or berating self-talk, or anxiety about all I haven’t done or been for the past 43 years.  And I’ve laughed more today than I have all week (in part because of Flat Stanley, but definitely fueled by an open heart).

The point is that self-healing happens in the care of others.  Even if that “other” is a bonked-out tiny bird who got into more adventure than he could handle.

Because when you care for/about someone else, your heart unlocks and compassion shows up… in ways it’s sometimes difficult to do for yourself.

Find your care target today… and find yourself.

Ooooh, a gift!!

I’m *this close* to giddy.

Ok, yeah, part of it is this mug of Star(la)bucks coffee… but mostly it’s because I gave myself an awesome gift this morning.   

I signed up to take a class that I’ve been eyeing for months:   Organization and Relationship Systems Coaching (ORSC™) Fundamentals, through CRR Global (Center for Right Relationship).   I’m sure you’re all clamoring to take the same course (*cough cough*), so here’s the course description link:  http://centerforrightrelationship.com/courseregistration/courses/info/5

Although something that includes phrases like coaching relationship systems, relationship intelligence, and intake and alignment coaching might make you want to run screaming for the hills, it makes me giddy.

Why?

Well … have you ever been so intrigued by something that it becomes sort of your holy grail?  That thing that starts as a soul whisper, then a quiet voice that becomes a loud knocking on your destiny door?

In other words, something you just really want to experience. (my apologies… when I get really excited, flowery esoteric words scramble out in front of their more standard counterparts).

That’s what this course is for me.  Something I can’t wait to dive into, explore, savor, devour, learn, discover.

But the course itself isn’t the point here (darn!).  The point is all about giving yourself meaningful gifts.  Gifts that speak to some sort of sweet longing within you, or that applaud a joy that’s already there. Gifts of experience, or beauty, or learning, or space (see last week’s blog).

The impact of giving ourself a meaningful gift goes well beyond what we might expect.  Take my course registration gift, for example.  In exploring the “giddy” around that action, I realized:

- I’ve been longing for “retreat” time this year.  OMG, this 2-day course will be my retreat time!  Staying at the course hotel in DC even though I could drive home overnight. 

- I didn’t register for this months ago because I didn’t see how I could justify paying for something that felt like such a huge treat.  Um, lookie there — it’s a business expense now — paid for completely by my OutWrite Living earnings.

- Wait, did I just say OutWrite Living earnings?  OMG (again!), I’m a paid writer.  Dream. Come. True.

- And duh, taking this class DOES fit directly into my vocational path – contacts in that world of deep change that I want to be in with my writing work.

I’m seeing now that by giving myself this meaningful gift, I’ve:

  • given myself more (unexpected) reasons to celebrate
  • gotten more (unexpected) insight into what I *have* accomplished,
  • realized that by allowing self-gifts around our deepest longings, we discover they are actually the next step in actualizing our dreams.  

Whoa.

And I thought I was just signing up for a course. 

Go on, give yourself that gift you’ve been holding out on.  It just might change your life.

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