What do I LeaveBehind?

Packing for a trip is a judgment call. A climate of 50 degrees one moment, followed by a sweeping blizzard which soon vanishes without a trace, had me puzzled. How do I pack well for a week’s worth of such weather? The shoe dilemma alone had me going. How to choose? Well, starting from my son’s directions to include a bathing suit and hiking boots, I indulged my imagination and then shut the bag. Case closed. (ouch)

The truth about me in Santa Fe encompassed a layering of moments, a circle of emotion, new visions, beauty, conversations, and realizations. It offered the opportunity to both look back and be present. I existed in the place of open vistas, cylindrical mesas, cloud-kissed mountains, and the Rio Grande…stunning in and of themselves, and metaphorically symbolizing the vastness of life’s possibilities.

Just as I could not anticipate the weather, so I flew to New Mexico with no expectations. Any activity, from sightseeing, to observing Ben’s choreography at National Dance Institute would be welcome. In fact, even a moment of hurt and humiliation – no, not with my family - provided awareness about self-care and self-expression. Under these open skies, I felt inspired to release some of the excess baggage I’d unconsciously packed alongside my 2 extra pair of jeans.

In Coaching, the concept of stepping back from the action is an invaluable tool. In life, disengaging, consciously taking the time to breathe, may allow us to notice that there is choice as concerns the next step. The thing that often trips us up is the “need” to be right. Of course we know this won’t resolve anything, but change takes time and small steps. To truly have a chance to arrive at this new place also requires our permission to make mistakes in the process.

So in this visit, I could revisit situations involving my son, knowing I’d made my share of poor choices. At times, I doubt I had the awareness that alternative behaviors were available. And yet, there stood Ben, a young adult making a huge contribution to the children in this and surrounding towns. From co-workers to parents, I was blessed to hear the strength of character they found in him, how the children adored him.

I'd traveled a distance to spend time with my son. And in so doing, I discovered for sure, that the love I'd offered my young children had indeed, been good enough.

There was a Doctor in the House

NYC therapist brutally murdered. Perpetrator escapes. It is presumed he was victim’s patient…a basic plot for Law and Order.

Except that it happened Tuesday night in my apartment building.

Wednesday morning I jaunted down the stairs from the 4^th floor to the landing and literally ran into 2 policemen. From my vantage point, a sea of men in black coats. The lobby teemed with NYC detectives and NYPD.

My friend stepped off the elevator and shared the story. What a loss to the therapist’s family, clients, to the community. A second doctor had tried to rescue her only to be met with severe injuries. His disabled wife, whose chronic illness “gave her the appearance of a drunk”, was left uninformed as to where the ambulance would deliver her husband. Mauled but conscious, he is wheeled out the door, just beside her, and she is denied information because someone judged her to be out of control.

Yesterday the murderer was apprehended. His beliefs regarding the second doctor – that he had been his therapist and was responsible for his 21 year incarceration in a mental health facility – may be totally untrue. Indeed, the female therapist was regrettably in the way of his immediate objective: to rob and injure the male. Ultimately, he wanted to force the release of his mother from a nursing home and take her out of the country, to be with her always. He’d been charged only a few days earlier with an attack on an attendant in a thwarted attempt to “rescue” her, and had been set free while awaiting trial.

When I first stepped outside Wednesday morning, cameras rolled, a reporter raised a microphone to my face: “Describe your first reaction to hearing of the murder.” She was clearly looking for drama, sensationalism, enough to drive her viewers into fear. My response included the horror, the gross injustice, sadness, and a therapist’s treacherous challenge to balance best patient care with personal safety. I left the house thinking that as Coaches it is imperative to maintain awareness of what’s showing up for the client. That we pay attention, listen to inklings. Is she basically healthy? Does coaching serve her or might therapy provide a better option at this time? Noticing new data as it emerges.

And continually Choosing.

How do we choose the reality we so wish to ignore? The fear when it shows up, the desire to run. In order to be of value to our community, we offer what we know: there’s no moving forward until we choose the situation as it is revealed. And if there is fear, what action can we take to tolerate it? Is it possible to increase our security without sacrificing our freedom?

Upon reflection, some may choose to leave.

When my 2 children, who were raised in this building, heard of the crime, they were terrified for me. My daughter’s first utterance was, “Mom, you have to get out of New York.” Fight or flight. The law of self-preservation. What could be more natural?

Yet we see over and over again just how random life can be. There is no law of complete control in life’s design. New York is my home for now. I realize there are further precautions, small steps I may take to strike an acceptable balance between my safety and my freedom.

My choice is to stay.

Give Me Back My Caterpillar

Last night I watched “Away From Her”, a bittersweet film steeped in unconditional love, betrayal, and the process of letting go.

In speaking with 2 close friends earlier in the day, I mentioned my evening plan – nesting with Gracie on a cold city night, my DVD loaded and ready. One replied: “have tissues at your side from the get-go”, while the other advised me to forego the tears and save a tree. In the end, I found the piece moving throughout, but shed tears only in the final moments.

This set of behavioral expectations is of interest to me. .. diverse reactions to identical input. And more specifically, the honest belief that we know how another will respond to a particular event. Of course in the Bigger Picture, my reaction to anything doesn’t quite make it to the cover of a newsstand magazine (for the moment). But the thought that I might predict the response of those close to me sets buzzers off in my head, reminiscent of 60’s game shows.

Question:

If your friend were stood up for a 2^nd date, she would:

a. Eat a box of Oreos in bed while watching “Casablanca”.

b. Cry into the night, having already planned the wedding.

c. Change into her most adorable outfit and skip off to her local karaoke bar.

d. Settle in and pick up her favorite Jane Austen novel.

The truth is, I have no idea.

The time required for me to relinquish a present disappointment is likely connected to whatever’s going on in that fluid place inside the lighthouse of letting go.

If my best childhood friend ran off into the night with my favorite toy tractor in tow, I might feel a twinge when asked to share my grown-up toys. Once I am aware of that relationship, I can allow it to heal, and move on. Sure I loved my tractor, sure I “hated” my friend, but there’s no way Caterpillar or ancient history will dictate my thoughts and behavior now.

So, I provided my friends with a tiny surprise this week-end…how refreshing to be somewhat unpredictable.

Miracle on 35th Street

Oh Lord, am I ever grateful for this past week-end!

While I sorely missed my outrageous Mom, who at 93, lives independently and plays a cruel game of Scrabble, I knew our calls and cards would expand our day to day gratitude for each other.

My dear friend’s family adopted me as their own for Thanksgiving. Festivities royale ensued, culminating with the opening night of the “Opera Cake”. Consider dense mocha cream, drizzled with dark chocolate, slathered between layers of light pastry, richer than all of us at the table. Presto, the smoothest disappearing act on record.

Friday, my “just turned 21” daughter came in from Philly. My love for her abounds right along with my admiration. Her loyalty to her life’s direction and to those she loves, her clarity on choices in creating her life and adding to the lives around her, awareness of the next step on the path she envisions, all serve well. Challenges? You bet. I trust she’ll deal with them in her own time.

She flitted around me as she always does. But first we shared the warmest of hugs a mama and her baby girl ever knew, replete with I love you’s and snuggly kisses. The afternoon flew by filled with personal news/views, dinner, then out came the moon and out she went to explore her old city with old friends. On Saturday, her newly- engaged best friend (whom I adore), traveled in from Stonybrook, Long Island to share some time. She’s working with troubled teens, some of whom cannot look her in the eye. I recall a time when she was in the same place. I’m moved by her courage and compassion.

I’d already come to terms with the fact that my son would not be visiting for the holiday. He recently moved to New Mexico to teach in Santa Fe schools and produce events with a national dance organization, and had tickets to visit in late December. But a sudden death in his girlfriend’s family reformulated his plans and, suddenly, there I was in Andrew’s Coffee Shop, unaware of the frenzy of Macy’s during the holiday season, sitting across from both my children. I looked into their eyes. Who knew those moments I noticed in their early interactions in their worlds would become a leitmotif, softer around the edges, a silver thread really, connecting the baby, toddler, child, adolescent, and young adult. Beautiful, imperfect beings, inspired by all this planet offers, actively concerned with what it needs.

Lunch ended. The girls left to shop. My son and I wanted a place to “catch up” and had limited time. Where do you go in this season around 34^th Street, NYC for quiet? Macy’s, 7^th floor. Men’s overcoats.

As he tried on different styles and sizes, we shared thoughts on the new shapes of our lives. When I asked him what he’d like for Chanukah, he replied, “I really can’t think of anything, Mom. I’m happy.” And with that I received my gift. He was happy.

All too soon he needed to catch the train. We stood near the track at Penn Station holding each other so tightly. I love you’s. The love between mother and son. Mother and daughter. Joy. Family history.

Moments we didn’t know how to live through then discovered placing one foot in front of the other as slowly as we needed to was the answer.

We embraced forever. And ultimately, slipped back into our selves once more. I returned home in tears. When the feelings had lifted, before my daughter and her sweet friend returned, I sat on the couch with Gracie, connecting with my inner spirit, asking G-d how to make our family good-byes less painful. Do I avoid them, meaning not see my children? Or perhaps I experience the joy fully, bringing more light into the world? It wouldn’t eliminate the pain but I think I could live with it knowing authentic happiness reflects in the world. Yes. A good enough choice.

A New Voyage...Where's the Dramamine?

Remember the old Janis Joplin tune, “Oh Lord, Won’t you buy me a Mercedes-Benz?” It’s one that pops into my mind on occasion. It happened just yesterday. For some reason I stopped, and paid attention to the message thinking, “Not this time. This time I want to thank You”. So - Oh Lord, Thank You for so much, including Gracie, a 4 year old rescue Russian Blue, who arrived safely in my home just last week. She listens to my chatter and responds in kind - the feline version of a true friend. Gracie stretches my heart ever so slightly each day.

While miracles surround us, I’m always amazed by the dynamics of the human being/animal connection. Offered unconditional love, we tend to share better, behave more considerately, and overall communicate more kindly, sometimes with a smile in our voices. Animals can teach us new tricks at any age, with unlimited opportunity to improve our styles.

And then some of us choose to or have to live without them. We can develop severe allergies at any point in life. Perhaps we carry around memories of that vicious dog that took a good bite 35 years ago. Life can be challenging enough without adding scratches to the maple feet of your favorite chair and clumps of cat hair glued to the fabric of your dreams.

Years ago, before I recognized Choice as a fundamental birthright, I hadn’t a clue that I could elect to be happy. “Under these circumstances”, I was known to whine, “the most constructive action I can take is to lie down and never rise again.” How could I have considered an alternative given the designer blinders I unconsciously sported night and day? At least contacts have to be purified now and then.

And then some time ago on a glorious spring day, before becoming a lifemindbodyspirit coach, I glimpsed the possibilities about how I might live my life, the difference between what I “know”, and what I know “for sure”. (Thank you Oprah.) As I learned specific skills, challenged certain patterns of thought, and allowed new concepts to take root, I discovered a clearer pathway to my soul. And now every time I begin to work with a new client, I hold specific hopes for them:

1. That the client is already whole.

2. That the client is willing to expand awareness, connect to spirit, create thoughts that serve, and take action.

3. That the client knows she/he can Choose from this moment to the next.

4. That the client dares to live from strength and compassion.

When I consider why these are the thoughts that rise to the top when I’m entering a new coaching conversation, I realize it’s because:

1. I am whole.

2. I have experienced the joy of becoming aware, actually more than once, as

human beings may slip up and get back on the horse.

3. I choose and create my life from moment to moment.

4. I have learned firsthand that we are stronger than we ever dreamed.

I have great compassion for this, our “Human Comedy”. In my experience the words pain-free and existence don’t travel well together. We do, however, make it through life’s many challenges, whether gracefully or not. And that is a great win!

Neither abrupt change nor “smooth” transition is easy. We can train for a new job with utmost attention to detail, yet until we step into it and assume the responsibility for getting it done, we haven’t truly begun.

So I am embarking on a new voyage (where’s the Dramamine?), playing in a bigger way, sharing my thoughts with the hope you’ll offer yours, or simply return for more.

Oh, and you guys out there who have that Mercedes-Benz, what are you thankful for?

Wishing everyone a glorious holiday. And keep those choices coming!