One, two, three, one, two, three…. My fellow workshop participants counted off in preparation for our first small group exercise. As the counting reached me, Michael, our workshop leader interrupted: “No, you’re not included.”

I felt as though a rug had been pulled out from beneath my feet. I struggled to control my emotions, my face betraying a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and disappointment, mingled with a vague sense of betrayal.

During planning for the workshop (ironically, the theme was “loss”), my fellow co-organizers had repeated assured me that I could be a full participant throughout the workshop itself. While small group exercises were normally done in triads, their experience had been that an occasional group of four was formed if the overall group size was not divisible by three. However, on that particular morning, Michael appeared unwilling to make an accommodation.

As the triads began their work together, I attempted to regain my equilibrium. I began a stresswell™ spin of the wheel while I tapped into my usual repertoire of stress management skills. I stopped to breathe and shift into coherence. I acknowledged my feelings and released them. I examined my beliefs and judgments about the incident.

Although one of the groups had invited me in as an observer, I found myself continually distracted by feelings of loss and abandonment. I felt fidgety and unable to sit still in a spirit of presence within the small group. Eventually, I was pulled away from the exercise by an administrative task, and decided it would be too disruptive for me to return.

I left the room for a few moments to wash my face and provide some distance from the workshop itself. As the exercise ended, lunch arrived and I realized how hungry I felt.

Conversation during lunch was also awkward. My fellow organizers shared my puzzlement and empathized with my sadness. Yet, I was also aware of wanting to maintain a positive atmosphere for the rest of the participants-even though I still was unsure of my own status for the remainder of the workshop.

A gnawing sadness continued throughout lunch. Tears lingered just beneath the surface and threatened to erupt without notice. I was puzzled by how important it seemed to be for me to actually participate in the workshop.

Finally, lunch was finished, and the group came back together. I learned that Michael had decided to let me participate in the rest of the workshop exercises. That afternoon, we would be take turns telling a story about a loss in our own lives.

I paused for a moment to invite a felt sense of which story might want to be told that afternoon. Ah, along came my sophomore homeroom and English teacher, a nun whose name I could no longer remember. What I did recall, however, was that “Sr. Mary NoName” and I had become fast friends that fall. She was perhaps no more than ten years my senior. I had found myself enjoying our conversations immensely and looked forward to the times we spent together.

Then, one day, she had stopped me as I was leaving homeroom and told me that we could no longer spend time together outside of class. She had offered no explanation as I sensed a door in my heart slam shut. From that day forward, I was invisible to her and I felt shunned.

That afternoon, however, as I told the story to my “listener” within our group of four, I began to see threads linking that long ago experience with the intense feelings that had haunted me just a few hours before. I began to recognize that those threads were linked as well to other losses throughout my life that had included themes of exclusion and abandonment and which had never quite lost their emotional sting.

As part of the workshop exercise, we also had the opportunity to address our listener with whatever words we would wish to say directly to the person we had been telling the story about, as well as offer a blessing to that person. I found myself speaking both to myself as the devastated 15 year old girl and to my beloved teacher, acknowledging the pain she must have felt as well (because I felt sure that the forced separation had not been her choice).

As I spoke, I felt as though I were laying down a heavy burden, that I had carried for so long. And throughout the rest of the workshop, I could feel the healing continue.

Of course, old habits sometimes are reluctant to slip away quite so easily. As a result, in the days following the workshop, I’ve noticed occasional twinges of old, familiar, well-rehearsed feelings of abandonment. Yet, as quickly as the twinges appear, they now disappear with the recognition that the initial hurt has been healed and that I no longer need the protective shield.

Lessons learned? First, that any experience can affect us deeply within all dimensions of our being. Second, that a lingering response to a stressful incident might have deep taproots to an earlier experience that yearns for a transformational healing process. Third, that a “spin of the wheel” may become a three-dimensional spiral of growth and healing that transcends time and space.
Image Credits (unless otherwise noted, all on Flickr (cc) Some Rights Reserved) :
1. Not Like the Others… by greenapplegrenade
2. Wellness Wheel ©2002 by John W Travis and HealthWorld Online (used with permission)
3. parla con me by la bella polenesiana

Given the sophisticated (and proprietary) process by which Juice Plus® is made, public explanations and visual images have been somewhat limited.  So, one day, in a moment of facetious fun, I concocted an intricate tale regarding a renegade group of health-conscious Keebler Elves who—armed with tiny golden shovels**—had been recruited and hired to scoop the fruit and vegetable powders into capsules.  At long last, I am delighted to finally grant that hard-working band of elves a much deserved retirement.

All seriousness aside….if you have ever wondered about

• Why you should consider increasing your intake of fruits and vegetables
• How 17 fruits, vegetables and grains actually get into those capsules, and/or
• What difference Juice Plus® could possible make for you or your family’s  health,

then you will find value in a new, 12 minute video that premiered in late March at the Spring 2009 Juice Plus® Leadership Conference in Long Beach, California.

Simply click here so you can see and hear for yourself.  Then, click on “View video” (as seen below)

While you are there, you can also review the impressive body of peer-reviewed, published research findings on Juice Plus®…

plus hear from a few of the 1000’s of other health professionals who recommend Juice Plus®…

I invite you to take a look, and let me know what you think.

And, if you are wanting to bridge the nutritional health gap in your life, consider the difference you could make by adding the  benefits from 17 different fruits, vegetables and grains to your body every day.

Again, simply click here for more information.

* Proclaimer:  I am honored to be a Juice Plus® distributor(since 1995).  Because of the integrity (of both the company and its extensive research program), Juice Plus® remains the only nutritional product that I have ever  wholeheartedly recommended to my clients, family and friends.

** Image credit: Photo-0167.jpg by drauh

Today, a colleague forwarded an great article to me entitled:  “Is your diet color blind?” It covers the same kind of content that I usually cover in a typical rainbow eating discussion.  What got my attention however, was the initial question the author posed.

Wow, I’d never thought of it quite that way.

On the one hand, I love using word play and metaphors to help explain concepts.   So, the color blind reference makes a wonderful addition to my educational toolchest.

On the other hand, I also feel that one of my major roles is to help my clients bridge the gap from their current “here and now” to the “there” of their desired future.

So, if your current eating habits are a bit color blind, and you’re looking for a way to help you eat a healthier rainbow of color each day (that is, increasing your intake of fruits and veggies), I’ve found a great place to start your journey.  It’s called Juice Plus+–providing you with 17 different fruits, veggies and grains in capsules.  Research with both children and adults shows that folks who take Juice Plus not only report eating more fruits and veggies, but also demonstrate signs of being more healthy.

[BTW- If you're contemplating a change of any kind, I've created a guided imagery script entitled: From Here to There: Preparing for Change that can be a valuable resource tool.  You can request it here.]

Image credits (all from Flickr (cc) Some Rights Reserved)

1.  Rainbow Eaters by exepotes

2.  Lunch by bunchofpants

A Love Letter from Alex (printable/pdf version)

Some days it really pays to sort through old files.  This afternoon, I found a stack of love letters and cards from my late husband.

He wrote an especially beautiful letter at a point during our courtship when I was going through a really rough patch at work.  I thought you might find his words as comforting-and inspirational–as I did.   Both then, and now:

I send you my affection and love to be with you….keep us close together during the trying times….calling on our total energies to help you through….but also call on our combined energies and love when it is time to celebrate at the high times of each day - there should be at least 8 celebrations each day….

1. When you awake…to another day, the purr of a cat, to the sneeze of [the dog], to the song of birds or to the first ray of sunlight.
2. Sipping a cup of tea, munching on a crust of toast, peanut butter or crunching a dry cereal for breakfast.
3. Taking a walk in the out-of-doors regardless of snow, rain, sleet, sun, or cottonwood seeds gliding down to earth, smelling the scents of earth, water, cut grass, sweat of a horse, after shave lotion, fresh dab of perfume or baby oil.
4. Greetings from friends, acquaintances, students, strangers, passer-bys, your own image reflected in a mirror or storefront window.  Surprize….being alive to all which surrounds you each moment in each day.
5. Listening and hearing the sounds of your own voice…talking, yelling, singing, laughing, whispering.
6. Touching…oh so many objects, people, animals, buildings, your car, a flower, a caterpillar, the wine in your goblet, the lips of your lover….your own body….with pride, delight and passion.
7. To be emotional….full range and depth…no limit…full limit…restrained and then abounding…internal and external-Yeah!  Take it in…Give and let it out….Human and Full of Life.
8. To sleep and rest after a fantasy called life which has been experienced….throughout each day.

That my Mary Is what you do!  Each and Every day of your creative and beautiful life.  Celebrate the existence of yourself with each and every living creature-

I too will celebrate life with you….each day and each moment of that day-

I enjoy spending these seconds with you.

*****

Image Credits:

Love Letters by Patricia Lazar on Flickr (cc) Some Rights Reserved

Is the upcoming holiday season bogged down with a clutter of “shoulds” and “oughts” that detract from your enjoyment of the season?

Are you a newlywed trying to juggle the long-standing holiday traditions of multiple families?

Are you longing to create or adapt holiday traditions for your own family that your children will treasure as they grow older?

On the other hand, perhaps you are adjusting to the loss of a pivotal family member who provided the focus for important holiday traditions.

Often, our holiday traditions include some “emotional clutter” that add unnecessary stress to our lives and hamper our enjoyment of the holiday season.

I have found the following four “clutter-control” questions to be helpful guides for choosing which traditions to keep or adapt, and which ones to let go of completely.

• How meaningful is it for me? - How much of an impact does this tradition have on my life? Is it important to me? Can I let it go?

• Do I love it? - Is this something that brings me joy? Or is it something I simply tolerate? Or does it create added stress in my life?

• Do I want this? - Is this something I need or want as part of my life? How important is it to keep this “intact” or is there a way I can reduce the “clutter” effect?

• Does this need me? - If it is not important to me personally, is it important to someone I care about? Is there something else that I need to consider (or do) about or with this?

As you clear away the excess emotional clutter, you will find a gentle spaciousness that enables you to embrace the richness of those holiday traditions that provide the most meaning to your life and your relationships.

I’d love to hear about your experiences in clearing your holiday-related emotional clutter.

(image credit: The Clutter of Death by GrandWaz on Flickr, some rights reserved)

Change Your Attitude About Change

by John Bishop, Executive Director, Accent on Success, Greater St. Louis Area

The world is changing. The changes will be rapid, constant and revolutionary. We can’t stop it.

At best, we can slow it down a little. But, change will be coming from all directions and at speeds we have never seen before. If rapid change is inevitable then how can we prepare for it?

Seven Ways to Look at Change:

1. Today’s change is tomorrow’s norm.

2. Change is as good or as bad as you make it.

3. If you are a change oriented leader expect others to paint a bull’s eye on your back and then shoot arrows at you.

4. Substitute the word “growth” for “change.” It will revolutionize your perspective about new things.

5. “When patterns are broken, new worlds emerge.”  [Tuli Kupferberg]

6. “Change is a challenge and an opportunity, not a threat.”  [Prince Phillip of England]

7. If you can’t control the changing event, change how you react to it.

By changing our attitude toward it and insuring that the changes make things better and not just faster.

By changing our attitude toward it we can make the change in our section of the world better - not just faster.

Our personal attitude toward change will ultimately determine our destiny.

www.GoalSettingForStudents.com/archives.html

(If you like this life skill idea, please send it to others. Thank you.)

Here in the US, we often take our water quality for granted. Except in case of dire emergencies, we simply walk to the closest faucet to turn on the tap for fresh, clean drinking water.

I first learned about the challenges of getting clean drinking water in the developing world in 1967 (at age 17) during my first of several visits to Nicaragua. For example, we had to use bottled water for drinking and brushing our teeth. When visiting in a Nicaraguan home, we were told to request a bottle of soda whenever we were offered a beverage to drink. Strange by today’s standards, but a sugary soda was healthier to drink than water!

During a 3-week stay in a rural district in northwest Nicaragua, we had to haul water from the river to fill barrels in the outdoor shower stalls (unless we had a drenching rainstorm). Eating lettuce-based salads were out of the question because of the high risk of intestinal illnesses. So, instead, we scalded cabbage in boiling water–which we then cooled down with chunks of ice (a foolhardy and risky shortcut, since we later realized that the ice was also made with contaminated water!).

Several years ago, Rotary International launched the BioSand Water Filter project which has helped to provide point-of-use water filtration units to villages throughout the developing world. These economical, low-tech units are remarkably effective in removing most bacteria and parasites from contaminated water, making clean drinking water more readily accessible.

I just learned about another intriguing project: PlayPump which focuses it efforts in sub-Saharan Africa. There are several really great videos on YouTube that describe the project–which uses children’s play-power to operate water pumps from village wells.

Such creative projects and remarkable ingenuity!

(note: The title quote is from Silas Marner’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner)

(note: image from Foxypar4 !!! on Flickr, some rights reserved)

Today’s lesson came in the form of my monthly telephone bill. As I briefly scanned the bill, I felt (and then heard) the sudden gasp escape from my throat: the amount due was TRIPLE its usual cost!

As I looked further, I discovered that the additional charges stemmed from a business call I had placed last month to the Bahamas. My colleague and I had experienced several delays in making scheduled appointments–due in part to interruptions in her internet-based telephone service, plus we had dismissed her cell phone option as too cost-prohibitive. So, when she gave me a new land-line number to use, I didn’t even think twice. I made the call and we had a productive 60-minute conversation. What I didn’t know at the time was that the call was being billed at my phone company’s “primetime overseas rate.”

Yikes! But also, DUH! I’m so spoiled with my unlimited long distance service plan that I didn’t stop to think that it only covers the US. Plus her phone number “looks” like a regular US number (that is, it doesn’t have any international code prefix to the number).

Once upon a time, I probably would have reacted with anger, frustration and tears, punctuated with feelings of blame and self-loathing for having made such a “stupid” and costly mistake. I might have then railed against the telephone company for what I believed to be exorbitant rates, and/or harbored a lingering, unspoken sense of bitterness toward my colleague for not having “protected” me from my ignorance.

Instead, this morning, I chose to take a deep breath and quietly pay the bill. And, without shame or blame, acknowledged my simple (albeit costly) error in judgment, that was based merely on my not knowing that which I didn’t already know. And then pondered some lessons to be learned from my experience–to help me and others not make a similar mistake in the future.

There are days in life in which we learn costly lessons. And some days in which our lessons simply cost us money.

Learning how to avoid the first type altogether while also minimizing the second is perhaps one of our most important lessons in life.

(note: image from Patrick Q on Flickr)

The lyrics from the old standard, I Won’t Dance have been stuck in my head the past several days.

I won’t dance, don’t ask me. I won’t dance…with you. My heart won’t let my feet do things that they should do.

This past weekend, I received a couple of requests for charitable donations:

• An organic food retailer whose business I try to support was under “house arrest” as part of a non-profit organization’s annual fundraising drive, and so was soliciting “bail” funds to earn her release from jail.
• A dear friend sent an email inviting me to join a walk for another non-profit organization that serves individuals who have the specific disease her son has.

Especially in these hard economic times, it’s difficult to say no to someone in need. As a matter of fact, when I heard that a family I know (with 3 children), who lost all of their belongings when the apartment complex they lived in was destroyed by a (3am!) fire last week, I couldn’t get my checkbook and email notifications going fast enough.

And it’s really not so much about the money or even about turning down an opportunity for a lovely walk with people whose company I would no doubt enjoy.

So what’s the difference–and why does my heart stop me from participating in one instance and not another?

I’m like an ocean wave that’s bumped on the shore, I feel so absolutely stumped on the floor.

Over the past several years, I have come to the decision to stop contributing money or participating in fund-raising activities to disease-oriented organizations. It’s not that I don’t care about the individuals who are affected by any of these specific diseases. It’s more about the fact that we live in a culture that tends to identify and label individuals more by their disease (or other “shortcomings). So much so that we often lose sight of the wondrous being that they are (and continue to be) in spite of their personal challenges.

Ring-a-ding-ding, you’re lovely.

Over the years, my focus has shifted elsewhere. For me, disease is but a “context”, a sub-text in a person’s life. Instead, I try to focus my life and my work on what can be lovely (even if it means looking underneath and around what’s not obviously so).

So now, when someone asks, here’s what I am able to offer (with a light heart and gracious step): a gift certificate for a Basic “Barebones” Stresswell™ Appraisal plus a complimentary coaching session.

You know what? You’re lovely….you’re so lovely….and that’s why I won’t dance.

(note: image from liltree on Flickr)

In our media and commerce-driven world that equates material gifts with a measure of true love and interprets “being alone” as a desolate fate, such words could have wreaked havoc in my soul. However, while I’m not currently “in relationship” with another, I’m neither desperate nor lonely.

I had spent the day fondly recalling stories about my late husband and his annual ritual of sharing handmade valentines with the women and children in his life. Alex had abhorred commercialized holidays, and preferred to bestow gifts at times of his choosing, but his annual valentine sharing adventure remained a nearly lifelong habit. He’d scour the stores in mid-late January for lace doilies, heart-shaped stickers and other intriguing decorative materials.

Some years, he’d feel lazy and grouse a bit if he felt that the recipients of his treasured creations had not shown adequate gratitude and/or recognition of his artistic efforts. Then one year, we heard about our god-daughter, who had treked out to the curbside mailbox every afternoon for 2 weeks, in anticipation of the treasured envelope that would bear her name, scrawled in large red marker. In 2006, he struggled to complete the task, yet cheered our hearts with his pink and red concoctions even though they arrived closer to mid-March as our minds had begun the shift to St. Paddy’s green.

By Feburary of 2007, he was too ill to complete the task one last time and steadfastly refused any assistance. While his tradition was ending, his teacher-artist daughter sent him a handmade valentine mobile, which we hung over his hospital bed in the living room. A fitting tribute and gift of love, to this gentle man and caring father, who–in an earlier career as a math teacher–had shared his fascination with the work of Alexander Calder while teaching mathematical principles by creating mobiles in the classroom. And in the wee hours of the morning of April 7 2005, that delicate heart-shaped mobile cast candle-lit flickering shadows on the living room wall as Alex bade a reluctant farewell to his full and complex life.

Nostalgic thoughts and loving memories of a man who sometimes seemed larger than life, and who continues to dwell in my heart as the “silent partner” he promised to always be. Understandably, he’s a lot more silent than before, yet I continue to feel his love and support each and every day, but especially this Valentine’s Day.

And in the way that fortune cookies often provide a gentle reminder of oft-hidden truths, I feel myself comforted anew by the gentle validation: I am my best valentine–my first and most constant friend. And the more that I care for and nurture myself, the better friend and valentine I can be for others each day of the year.