• Keep on Truckin’

    • October 25, 2022 3:47 pm

    Dearest Readers,

    When I was a kid, a friend of mine had one of those 70s-disco-prismatic stickers on his bedroom wall that said, “Keep on Truckin’.” Can you picture it? The holographic, pink-and-yellow prisms overlaid with a funkadelic font? For some reason, I’ve never forgotten it.

    Keep on truckin’. This corny slogan came back to me this week because the Negative Nellies were going at me and it was all I could do to stay afloat. Sometimes, when the darkness descends, there is nothing to do but keep on truckin’.

    For most of my healing journey, I have been quick to take action when my mood has started to go south. If I have felt like I was heading toward the pit, I would read something inspiring, call someone wise, listen to a motivational speaker, stand on my head, pray, meditate, walk in Nature, anything to avoid going down.

    These days, because I’m still contending with post-infectious fatigue (from the stomach virus I contracted last fall), I am less inclined to do the work. It’s too much effort! I know taking positive action will help me to feel better but some days I just do not have it in me.

    In my disinclination to motivate myself, I created a character called “The Un-Motivational Speaker.” Here’s a taste of her attitude and approach:

    “What’s so great about being happy anyway? Being miserable is so much easier. You don’t have to do anything! Happiness is all do-do-do, and go-go-go. Why not take a break and enjoy wallowing in self-pity?”

    “You wanna stay in bed? Stay in bed! Why all this emphasis on getting up? As if being awake is the be all and end all. Enlightenment is exhausting. Keep sleeping already!”

    “Forget ‘Just Do it’. Too much energy! Work, work, work. Who needs it? ‘Just Give Up’ instead. It’s much more relaxing.”

    “Who says you have to keep trying all the time? You wanna be down, be down! You don’t wanna change, don’t change! ‘Come as you are’? How about ‘stay as you are’! This transformation business is highly overrated, IMHO.”

    I don’t know if The Un-Motivational Speaker is your kind of “funny” but she sure gives me a chuckle. Sometimes I need to make fun of my commitment to heal at all costs. And, ironically enough, laughing at myself is its own healing practice.

    Mind you, I haven’t mastered the technique. Learning to laugh at my suffering, my mistakes and my less-than-attractive qualities has been a slow, semi-painful process. I got laughed at as a kid and it hurt. A lot. But the hurt turned into self-protection and the self-protection turned into rigidity and we all know there’s not much fun in being a concrete wall.

    Over time, as I’ve learned to let down the barriers, make friends with the past, and soften my grip on control, I’ve also learned that it’s okay to lighten up. Even when I’m depressed! Being spiritual has to be funny. Otherwise it’s a joke.

    From the fires of love,

    Celia

    I Heart Therapy

    • February 9, 2022 11:16 am

    Dearest Readers,

    This past December, two years into a relationship (and a pandemic), and three months into an illness (post-viral syndrome, initiated by a gastro virus), I said to myself, “I need therapy.” I’ve been to therapists on and off over the years and I (virtually) see my own spiritual director on a regular basis but the last time I went to a therapist was more than eight years ago.

    It was time.

    I love therapy. In my teens, therapy helped me to say, “I love you,” to my father (and helped him say it back). In my thirties, therapy helped me to come to terms with my sexuality (I am a heterosexual-identified bisexual, yes!). In my forties, therapy helped me to figure out what to do with my life (quit my job and pursue my calling).

    To illustrate how much I love therapy I will tell you a little story:

    Once, during my spiritual direction training, I was the guinea pig for a “practice” spiritual direction session. My cohort was observing me in the session with a spiritual director who also happened to be a therapist.

    I was talking about my spiritual journey, enjoying the rapt attention of a roomful of listeners, when I said something that made the director stop me and say, “Now I don’t want to go any further here because this is spiritual direction and I don’t want it to become a therapy session.”

    “Oh, I love therapy,” I replied, confidently.

    He looked at me, squarely. Was I really giving him permission to “go there” in front of all of these people? I looked back at him. Yes, I was.

    “Alright. What’s ‘belonging’?” he asked me. I must have used the word when I was talking and he had knowingly (and artfully) picked up on it.

    The question went into my heart like an arrow, penetrating my bravado. “I never felt like I belonged anywhere in my whole life,” I said, tears spilling down my cheeks.

    He had seen something of my inner life and I had been willing to expose it. It was a powerful moment for every single person in that room and … healing happened.

    And this is why I love therapy (and spiritual direction): healing happens.

    In a recent session with my new therapist, I shared some of my latest struggles. “It’s sounds like the story of your life could be titled Life is Very Hard.”

    I felt my defenses rising up because for years I’d consciously avoided saying “life is hard.” It had felt like a negative statement that needed to be transformed. Instead, I’d practiced saying “life isn’t easy” or “life can be challenging.”

    But in that moment I realized something: I work with many people who find life hard and somewhere along the line I had let go of my practice of transforming the words in order to validate the statement for the ones who felt it to be true. “Yes, I hear you. Life is hard.”

    “Maybe I’ve swung too far the other way,” I conceded.

    “Or maybe that’s just my projection,” she said, softening. “What would you call the title of your life’s book?”

    “Never Enough,” I said, without hesitation.

    It’s true. No matter how much healing I’ve experienced there continues to be that deep-rooted shame in my being that tells me I’m not enough. It doesn’t rule my life (most of the time) but it’s never fully gone away. Sometimes it even returns in a full-force gale.

    “Maybe you need to learn to make friends with your shame,” my therapist said.

    This was a new angle.

    Healing the shame? Been there done that. But making friends with shame? Okay, let’s do it!

    So, thanks to good ol’ therapy, I’ve renamed shame “Shamé” and we’re getting along great. We’ve gone for walks, watched movies together and next week we’re going to an outdoor show (weather permitting).

    From the fires of love,

    Celia

    No Fixing Required

    • December 11, 2021 9:45 am

    Dearest Readers,

    On September 21st, I nearly fainted at the long-term care home where I provide spiritual care. I was in the middle of delivering a sermon for the residents during our homemade church service and the world started to go black.

    I pulled up a stool and carried on, acting as if I was okay when I wasn’t. I didn’t want people to worry. But after the room cleared, I got help from the nurse and called for a ride home.

    Because I had spent part of the previous weekend with a family who’d had “the gastro,” and because I was in bed for the next two days with nausea and a weak stomach, the sickness was chalked up to gastroenteritis.

    The family who’d given me the bug got better in two days. Ten weeks later I am still sick.

    What I want to write to you about is not the details of my illness but the practice of surrender. Because one has led to the other.

    Twenty-plus years ago, when I got on the Healing Journey and began to seriously attend to my spiritual life, I unwittingly got on the Fixing Journey, too.

    Give me a problem and I will give you the solution. You’re sick? Say affirmations. You’re sad? Be positive! You’re depressed? Change!

    Apparently, I’m not the only one. There is actually an Instagram account called “Healing from Healing.” It can be a bit crass but the account holder is ultimately trying to illustrate the wider healing community’s compulsion to fix: if you’re not happy/healthy/whole you must be doing something wrong!

    It’s taken me a long time to learn that healing doesn’t mean fixing and controlling. It means letting go, releasing, accepting, surrendering. And believe me, I haven’t finished learning the lesson.

    Since getting sick, friends have offered me silent faith sessions, tried to perform distance healing practices on my body, and recommended shamans and psychics.

    You would think I would be grateful for all of this support but my reaction has sort of been, hmm, how shall I say it? Irritation.

    “Stop trying to fix me! Just let me be sick!”

    Now, because I analyze everything, I realize that this part of me, let’s call her Resistance, might be the part of me that doesn’t want to heal. Maybe she likes being sick because she gets to check out of life.

    Maybe.

    Maybe not.

    Maybe there is another part of me, let’s call her Wisdom, that knows that this illness is actually teaching me something important and a miraculous cure would only eradicate the lesson.

    So what’s the lesson?

    There are a few:

    Since becoming ill, I have had to say “no” a lot. Saying “no” is not one of my strong points.

    Since becoming ill, I have had to let go of my fear of being judged. I imagine that people are going to see me as “less than” because I’m not working, I’m weak, I’m cancelling appointments, I’m falling behind. I have had to let these imaginary people think what they are going to think.

    Since becoming ill, I have had to accept that my body is not able to do what it could do ten weeks ago. But I’m a yoga teacher! Too bad.

    Since becoming ill, I’ve had to surrender to the fact that life has thrown me a curve ball and I can’t reach my arm out to catch it because the lymph nodes in my armpit are swollen and it hurts to much to stretch.

    These are big lessons. Vital lessons, no? Why try to fix and control them away? They are teaching me well.

    Yes, I would like to heal. Yes, I would like to have my energy back. And, what if it was okay to be sick? What if this sickness is actually healing me, one small surrender at a time?

    If I was to be suddenly, miraculously healed by a prayer, a shaman or a psychic, would I not just go right back to saying “yes” when I need to say “no”? Would I not immediately return to over-giving my time and energy? To doing more than my body can handle so that I would finally be enough?

    It’s highly likely.

    In the first few weeks, when I was still fighting this thing and struggling to accept what my body was saying, I taught a couple of online yoga classes. Cancelling was unthinkable.

    Then I remembered how I am always telling my students to “listen to your body.”

    How could I teach this kind of wisdom and not practice it myself?

    So, I cancelled. And the next week, I cancelled again. And the next week, again.

    Ugh.

    The only consolation was that I was living my teachings.

    Listen, let go, accept, surrender.

    That’ll fix it.

    From the fires of love,

    Celia

    One!

    • September 21, 2010 10:36 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Today is the one year anniversary of Inspiring Message of the Day. I just went back and read the very first post, which I wrote in response to hearing the Still Small Voice say, “Get up and write a blog.”

    “Huh?” I remember thinking, “Are you completely serious?” But I listened. And if you look at the time of that post it says “5:47 a.m.” And that was an hour after getting up and figuring out Blogger and then writing the darn thing. Case in point: I obeyed the command despite its seemingly bizarre nature.

    As I was pondering what to write on this momentous occasion I thought about all the things I could say. The most obvious one is that I achieved a goal. This is huge. I committed to posting six days a week for one year and I actually did that without fail. Granted, some posts are better than others but nevertheless I did it. So “clink” and congratulations, Celia.

    There were other goals that came out of the blog that I achieved as well. I made a commitment in Run For Your Life to do one form of cardiovascular exercise a week in addition to my daily yoga practice. And guess what? I’ve kept that up, too. As I was running up those Black St. stairs two at a time yesterday I thought, “My body has changed.” A year ago I was huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.

    But here is the question that is really begging to be answered. Have I changed the thing that prompted the blog in the first place? That rage that powered the prayer to help me not strangle the cat?

    Yes. And no.

    The rage can still come up. So that’s not gone. Maybe it never will be. But the force at which it arrives has lessened considerably. The cat hasn’t jumped on my stomach for a long time. Coincidence? Probably not. Now when he cries at 5 a.m. I pat him, scratch his ears, talk to him quietly and lift up the covers so he can snuggle underneath them with me. And then we both go back to sleep. Some kind of Surrender had to take place in me and I had to let It in.

    Yesterday I had a major deadline to meet. I was at Staples making copies and things were not going my way. The copier printed 170 pages of my work with a big black line through each one. The 3-hole punch was on the wrong setting and the holes in 120 pages were skewed. I could feel that old rage starting to boil.

    I took a deep breath and said, “Please help me. I can’t handle this.”

    Moments later a woman who might be called the town loonie came stomping into the store. She was having some kind of psychotic episode. She was ranting unintelligibly and everyone just kind of stopped and stared. She did a tour around the cash registers and then she left.

    This woman just happens to be one of my Symbols. There she was. Appearing almost immediately after I’d asked for Higher Guidance. I relaxed. Look at your life, Celia. Look at what you have. Your problems are not really problems. Things fell into their proper perspective.

    Thinking back to a year ago and that morning of the first blog I can see the difference between who I was then and who I am now. Yes, I have changed. And I will continue to change if I continue to ask for that Help. I can’t do it by myself. I need something Greater, something More Powerful than my little old self. That part, thank goodness, hasn’t changed.

    This is by no means the last blog, Dearest Readers, but I am going to take a bit of a break. I have a play to write and this precious time I take to post each day must now be used for that.

    Thank you, thank you, thank you, a million times thank you for reading. Thank you for being there, for being You, for Be-ing. You are amazing!

    Inspiring Message of the Day: When I am in need of Great Strength I will continue to ask for It. I will ask no matter where I am and no matter what I am doing. Today I will trust that when I ask for help It will come. It will come.

    Two…

    • September 20, 2010 9:47 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Yesterday was my birthday and I got the best birthday present ever. I got to go for a canoe paddle on the river.

    Paddling rivers is one of my favourite things to do in the world and each summer my father and 2 of our good friends (another father-daughter team) do a trip. This year, however, we didn’t get to go on our annual expedition and I really felt the loss. I would walk by the Yukon River, which is about a 3-minute walk from where I live, look at the moving water and feel a sense of longing so deep it can hardly be described.

    So when my friend said, “How about we take you out for a paddle on your BD?” I was more than game.

    Since it was my birthday I had spoken to my parents earlier in the day. When I told my father about the stretch of water we’d be doing he suddenly got cautious. “That’s fast moving water,” he said, “It can be really tricky.” He warned me to be careful.

    I’m a pretty good paddler. I’ve paddled lots of flat water and done some pretty big white water but I’ve always been in the bow of the canoe on the river trips. I still don’t feel like I know exactly what I’m doing when the water gets big and my dad and I have had some scary moments. I started to feel nervous about what was supposed to be a leisurely afternoon paddle.

    My friend’s partner reassured me. “The water isn’t that fast,” he said. “I wouldn’t send you out there if I didn’t think you could do it.” Okay then! Let’s do it.

    We set off in mid-afternoon with the sun shining and the wind at our backs. What a stunning day. How thankful I was feeling! Here I was, nearly four decades later in the place of my birth, celebrating Life in the most peaceful and enjoyable way.

    Then we hit the canyon.

    My heart started pumping hard and I concentrated on steering the boat. Above us was a bridge with people on it. I knew one of them. I looked up and smiled and hooted took my paddle out of the water. My friend in the bow did the same. The boat lurched forward. I remembered I was supposed to be steering. “I need you to paddle,” I said to my friend (as calmly as I could). The boat swayed. We righted ourselves and dug in. In minutes we were through the trickiest part. I relaxed. We’d made it!

    That temptation to show off, I tellya. It’s gotten me into trouble in the past. “Look at me! I’m something!” Wham! Reminds me of that Paul Simon song “Gumboots” from his Graceland album: “Believing I had supernatural powers/I slammed into a brick wall.” Yup. Been there. Done that.

    Gotta be careful. Got to focus on the action not how the action will be perceived. Got to let go of trying to impress people. Sigh.

    But despite that little moment of ego-tripping I managed to steer the canyon successfully and that feels like a victory for me. At first I was kind of mad that my dad had put the fear into me. But after we made it through safely I was glad. If he hadn’t given me that warning, which put my guard way up, I might be writing about a river swim I took yesterday. In my actual birthday suit.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: Today I will celebrate my victories and rein in my shortcomings. I don’t need to impress anybody but myself.

    Three…

    • September 18, 2010 10:57 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Let us turn now to the subject of speaking up when it is unpopular to do so. For example, you are in a group situation and perhaps someone has brought a child. The child is a lovely creature and on her best behaviour but is nonetheless disrupting the meeting and making it difficult for people to listen and stay focused. No one wants to say anything for fear of offending the parents and yet the situation is calling for something to be said.

    What do you do?

    The choices are simple: 1. Let it go. 2. Say something.

    Letting go is always a good thing. But what if the discussion is extremely important? What if there is someone there who needs the information so badly that her sanity actually depends upon it? Is letting go really the best option?

    Saying something will cause friction. It may even cause resentment. People won’t like it. They may even start to dislike you. But the group is being disrupted and people are getting annoyed. Many people would like to speak up but are fearful of the repercussions. Someone does, in fact, need to step up to the plate.

    Would you be that person?

    I’ve been both the “let it go” person and the “step up” person. The letting go works but provides no real solution. The stepping up opens the door for communication and problem-solving but causes some angry feelings to arise and enter the mix. Neither option is easy. Especially the latter.

    Why? Because someone, inevitably, will decide you are a jerk. You will then have to live with the reality that someone out there doesn’t like you. If you are a person that says, “Who cares?” to this statement I applaud you and celebrate your insouciance. I’m not there yet.

    But I am getting there! Slowly. It’s been a long and winding road so far. Here are some of the more pleasant pit stops:

    • Don’t take things personally.
    • Validate yourself. Don’t wait for someone else to do it.
    • Give yourself a pat on the back (literally — reach up and pat yourself on the shoulder).
    • Look in the mirror. Meet your eyes. Say, “You’re doing great. I love you. I really love you.”
    • Remember to hold your own heart tenderly.
    • Respond to your actions with compassion.

    Whew! Lots of great tools. All beneficial. Some more challenging than others. Especially for the recovering perfectionist.

    In a similar situation to the one above I recently stepped up and said, “This is not working and we need to discuss it.” Afterward, I came home feeling anxious because I knew I’d offended someone. The voices of dissent charged in and started their attack. I bought in for a while and started to beat myself up but then I took charge and used those tools of self-validation to calm myself down and celebrate the courage it took to speak up.

    Not everybody is going to like me. And that’s okay.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: Today I will give myself the validation I seek from others. Today I am good enough and I am loved enough because I give myself the love and compassion I need. I believe that I am worth it!

    Four…

    • September 17, 2010 9:38 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Nearby on my desk is a piece of paper that says, “Checklist of Required Materials”. It’s for an application to the Canadian Film Centre and I’ve been staring at it for weeks as I prepare my submission to one of their programs. After pondering the words for so long I started to wonder, “What if we had one of those for Life?”

    A Checklist of Required Materials for Living:

    • Food
    • Shelter
    • Sleep
    • Higher Guidance

    Yup, that’s it. Of course, there are a gazillion more things I could add but how many of them do I really need? The above list names the essentials, the required materials in my life. Vital. Necessary. Can’t do without. When regarded as such it really is a very short list.

    When life gets challenging I find it helpful to drop into this place of Knowing. I have everything I need. I am fed, I have a roof over my head, I am rested and there is a Powerful Source of Energy making it all happen. It keeps things very simple and it makes it easier to be thankful for everything else I do have on top of these basic essentials.

    So today’s Checklist for Required Living? Check, check, check and check.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: What do I really need to live peacefully? Today I will strip my needs down to the absolute essentials. The rest then becomes luxury and so I will practice thankfulness for the Abundance in my life.

    Five…

    • September 16, 2010 10:58 am

    Dearest Readers,

    Lately I’ve been encountering this idea of “the authentic self” in a number of situations and it’s got me thinking. What is it exactly? What does it really mean?

    The dictionary on this computer defines “authentic” as something “of undisputed origin; genuine.” Well, our origin is not undisputed that’s for sure. Whether you’re a creationist or a big bang theorist the subject can be argued ad infinitum. So what about “genuine”? How do we know if we are such a thing?

    Most of my life was spent trying to fit in. I desperately wanted you to like me and so I became a master chameleon. I was equally at ease at a cocktail party or a biker bash. Well, maybe at ease is pushing it. Let’s say I was performing a character as best as I could in order to feel accepted.

    When I hit my late-twenties I realized I didn’t really have any idea who I was. I had become a sort of invented persona, one of my own making, and I felt very, very lost. The last decade-plus has been about finding out who I am. Learning how to be genuine. Discovering the authenticity of my True Self.

    One of the most difficult parts of becoming who we really are is letting go of how we want other people to see us. That desire to be liked creates the People Pleaser and though the title might sound harmless, even noble, it really is anything but. The PP strips us of dignity. As we perform tasks to make other people love us we erode our own self-confidence. We become ghosts of who we really are.

    So after 10+ years on the Healing Path am I any closer to knowing my “authentic self”? What do I really know about who I am today? Well, I know I believe in a Loving Power that exists Back of All Things. I also know that that belief can falter. I know I feel of maximum use when I am helping others negotiate their way through their own healing journeys. And I know that sometimes I don’t feel equipped to do this kind of work.

    Some days I am certain. Others I am confused. Most often I am faithful. More often I am fearful.

    Conclusion: I am human. So human. So very, very human.

    The other day I blogged about seeing the Earth from far above and connecting to the idea that we are One Single Organism. And I so believe that this Oneness is truly the Essence of all that Is. So my authentic self is not only human, it is Divine as well.

    The human experience, the path toward truly understanding the Authentic Self, is the journey of walking in balance with these two parts of ourselves. Some days the balance is very good, other days not so much. But always, always, the Essence is there, simply there, awaiting our return.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: Today I will find my way back to Authenticity. I will seek the Divine Essence of who I am and land there, settle in and make a home.

    Six…

    • September 15, 2010 9:41 am

    Dearest Readers,

    What was the happiest moment of your life?

    An easy question to answer? Not for me. The question was put to me this morning and I found myself thinking back to one of my favourite comic strips in which Charlie Brown asks Lucy to to name one thing she likes about him and she says something along the lines of, “Wow. Gee. That’s a stumper. That’s a real poser all right. That’s a puzzle. That’s a real tough one…”

    She uses just about every synonym for “difficult question” that there is. I could find lots of things I like about poor good old, wishy washy Charlie Brown but I happen to feel the same way Lucy does about the question “What was the happiest moment of your life?” I can certainly think of lots of happy moments but the happiest? The pinnacle moment, the moment that surpasses all other things? That one really is a stumper.

    When I got accepted into the National Theatre School of Canada I was pretty happy. I’d been rejected twice before and I’ll never forget the phone call that came saying, “You’re in.” I was ecstatic. But could I call it the happiest moment of my life? I don’t know.

    Then there was the phone call asking me to write a play for the Stratford Festival of Canada. Again, I was over the moon. But I’m not sure the moment deserves the title of “happiest”.

    I’ve heard a number of women describe the birth of their first child as the happiest moment. I could certainly see that being true but I don’t happen to have a kid. I got to witness the birth of my older sister’s first baby this year and no doubt it will top her happiest list. I was extremely happy for her but it wasn’t the happiest moment of my life.

    If I took the time I could probably create a list of the happiest moments. There have been lots of them. Falling in love, receiving certain kinds of recognition, getting off the booze and the dope, climbing mountains, performing on stage, helping other people on the Healing Path. All moments, all happy. But the happiest? Like I said, this one is a true puzzler.

    Maybe my resistance is coming from a place of cynicism. What followed all of these happy moments was not necessarily all happiness. It was life. Challenges ensued. Lessons were learned. Growth took place. All of these elements didn’t take away from the happy moment itself but nevertheless preclude the “happiest” definition taking root.

    Perhaps I haven’t had my happiest moment yet. I like that idea. It’s kind of exciting to think that the happiest moment of my life hasn’t actually happened. Something to look forward to, yes?

    That Charlie Brown strip ended with Lucy walking off in the last panel with the synonyms for “impossible question to answer” trailing behind her. Picture me in the same way, still thinking, still wondering, still searching…

    Inspiring Message of the Day: To be happy means to be Present. When I am here, now, in my body, grounded in my life as it happens, there is no other happiness. What if the happiest moment of my life could occur over and over again throughout the day, each and every day because I am practicing True Presence? I will do my best to stay here today, in the happiness of Now.

    Seven…

    • September 14, 2010 8:55 am

    Dearest Readers,

    In 2000 I did a month-long stint with Calgary’s One Yellow Rabbit Performance Theatre. Each summer they facilitate a Summer Lab and I was lucky enough to get a “scholarship” to go and participate. It had a profound impact on my career as a performer.

    At the start, all the “Labbits”, as we came to be called, introduced ourselves by sharing something peculiar or particular about our lives. One gal named Anne Loree revealed that she was the songwriter behind Jann Arden‘s major hit “Insensitive.” We all oohed and aahed because it was pretty cool to be in the presence of a bonafide hit-maker (number 12 on the US Billboard Hot 100). At the end of the Lab Anne played the song for us in performance. It was a real thrill.

    This morning I’m singing that song. “Maybe you might have some advice to give/on how to be/insensitive.” I’m not singing it about someone else, folks. I’m singing it about me.

    A friend of mine just told me that a few weeks back I sent her an email that contained a comment that really upset her. She couldn’t believe I had written it. It was in shockingly bad taste. She’s been hurting since then and only yesterday did she finally feel ready to confront me about it.

    God. Really? Ugh. So humbling. So challenging to hear this from a dear friend. It’s not the first time, either. Blasted email! How I wish I could blame it on this ridiculous form of communication that causes so many problems, so many misunderstandings and misinterpretations. But no. I cannot shirk this. I must take responsibility for my actions.

    After listening to my friend and apologizing and having a good cry with her about the situation we were able to laugh together and move on. (Now that’s communication.) But I went home still feeling the discomfort of what had transpired. My friend and I had already established that I had not been on top of my game when I sent the email (no kidding) but what else?

    That’s when the word insensitive came to me. Sort of like a beacon in the night. Kind of written across the sky. I can be insensitive. Not a beautiful moment. Not the type of epiphany I really enjoy having. Like a woolly sweater that itches in all the wrong spots. Get it off me.

    Alas, I must wear it before I can take it off. I gotta own it before it can be taken away. So I’m owing it. I’m not saying, “I am an insensitive person.” This is too harsh. “I can be insensitive,” is a gentler admission. It also means I have the quality rather than I am the quality.

    The Inner Work before me now is vital. Now that I have the awareness I need to be willing to change and be changed. I asked my friend how I could make amends to her. (An apology is great but it doesn’t always repair the damage.) She made a suggestion. I’m going to take it. I’m also committing to refraining from sending emails with flippant comments. This means re-reading what I’ve written and saving the message in the drafts folder if I’m unsure.

    Lastly, I can use prayer to heal the underlying fear or wound. What’s insensitivity but self-centredness? What is self-centredness but fear? What is fear but a disconnection from Love? Return me to Love. Heal me. Make me whole.

    With all of these steps I’m hoping instead I might have some advice to give on how to be more sensitive.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: We’re not perfect. We make mistakes. Rather than beating myself up and increasing the shame I will commit to Healing Action. I will make things right where I can and leave the rest to a Loving Higher Power.