1 quote and 3 (tiny) topics

May 6, 2022 | My sort-of Sermons, Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom, Writing

The Quote:

Re-vision–the act of looking back, of seeing with fresh eyes, of entering an old text from a new, critical direction–is for women more than a chapter in cultural history: it is an act of survival. Until we can understand the assumptions in which we’re drenched we cannot know ourselves. And this drive to self-knowledge, for women, is more than a search for identity: it is part of our refusal of the self-destructiveness of male-dominated society. A radical critique…feminist in its impulse, would take the work first of all as a clue to how we live, how we have been living, how we have been led to imagine ourselves, how our language has trapped us as well as liberated us, how the very act of naming has been till now a male prerogative, and how we can begin to see and name–and therefore live–afresh…not to pass on a tradition but to break its hold over us. ~ Adrienne Rich

Topic #1: Internalized Patriarchy

Ooooh, how this has shown up within me lately. Places and ways in which I default to deeply-held beliefs (even though I no longer believe them) and values (even though I no longer value them) that continue to wield their power in my psyche and day-to-day life. Ick. Ick. Ick!

Here’s a quick example…

My book is scheduled for publication in Fall of 2023. (I know: champagne, confetti, all that!) I’ve struggled in celebrating. Why? Because I’m going a hybrid publishing route vs. traditional. And why would I have any ambivalence around this at all? Well, because of internalized patriarchy! Somewhere, despite my better judgment, I believe that being acknowledged and chosen by the powers-that-be actually matters. I want the value deferred upon me by those same powers-that-be. The potential cash-advance? Well, that validates my value even more, yes? Ick. Ick. Ick!

The internalisation of patriarchy is not a fault. Its unnecessary, unrealised legacy women are carrying. We don’t even realise when and how patriarchy has seeped into our identity so much that we hallucinate its compulsions as our choice. ~ Emila Dutta

I don’t like it! 

Here’s what I do like: 

Internalized patriarchy — when seen and named — has a definite upside: the places in which we feel the most resistance, the most confusion, and even the most shame (3 markers that signify patriarchy’s presence, to be sure) serve as powerful sources of discernment. The things we dislike and fight with/against the most are the very things that afford us opportunity to listen to and trust our own wisdom, to remember who we truly are, and to say “of course!” as we acknowledge our sovereignty and strength. 

Topic #2: Re-visioning and Assumptions

By way of review: 

Re-vision–the act of looking back, of seeing with fresh eyes, of entering an old text from a new, critical direction–is for women more than a chapter in cultural history: it is an act of survival.

Rich is right, of course: When WE look back, when WE see with fresh eyes, when WE enter an old text (which includes our own personal texts/stories) from a new, critical direction, we do more than just survive: we finally and exquisitely thrive! And not just us, but all women, all of humanity — past, present, and future!

Mmmmmmm. SO much here, yes? Yes.

But wait, there’s more!

Until we can understand the assumptions in which we’re drenched we cannot know ourselves.

“…the assumptions in which we’re drenched.” I love this phrase and it weighs so, so heavy on my heart. Her words describe, in so many ways, what I am always talking/writing about when it comes to the stories we’ve been told, the ones we tell ourselves, the culture in which we live, and so much more. Naming these is what I focus on with clients and strive to consistently name in my own life over and over again. It’s definitely what I reveal (and re-vision) in my book. And every bit of this, to Adrienne Rich’s point, is so that we can know ourselves. 

And that? Knowing ourselves? It matters more than all else, is sacred above all else, is worth more than all else. 

Topic #3: (Trapped and) Liberated by Language

Again, by way of review, the final sentences within Adrienne Rich’s quote:

And this drive to self-knowledge, for women, is more than a search for identity: it is part of our refusal of the self-destructiveness of male-dominated society. A radical critique…feminist in its impulse, would take the work first of all as a clue to how we live, how we have been living, how we have been led to imagine ourselves, how our language has trapped us as well as liberated us, how the very act of naming has been till now a male prerogative, and how we can begin to see and name–and therefore live–afresh…not to pass on a tradition but to break its hold over us.

When we re-vision, when we acknowledge the assumptions in which we’re drenched, we cannot help but see and name how language has both trapped us and liberated us. Too often, this happens through language that’s been spoken for us, around us, and about us. Stories. Roles. Assignments. Stereotypes. Value. Worth. These have defined us, shaped us, and yes, (mostly) trapped us. 

Adrienne Rich is not alone in naming this. Brené Brown speaks almost exclusively about it in her latest book, Atlas of the Heart:

If we want to find the way back to ourselves and one another, we need language and the grounded confidence to both tell our stories and to be stewards of the stories that we hear. This is the framework for meaningful connection.

The key is to make language our own, to claim its power and beauty, to take agency, and to move from being trapped by it to letting it be the source of our very liberation. Ultimately and paradoxically, the very things, experiences, even people that have oppressed or bound us, when named with language, are what enable our freedom.

  • When you honestly name and put language to the harm of your past, you can then step into freedom from it.
  • When you bravely name and put language to your fear, you can then experience a life that is freed from such.
  • When you fiercely name and put language to your truth, you can then begin to live in uncompromising, unedited, and freedom-suffused ways.

All easier said than done. All the work and journey of a lifetime. All deeply sacred.

*****

So, to (finally) wrap things up…

  • internalized patriarchy is a real thing — which is why:
  • re-visioning matters.
  • understanding the assumptions in which we’re drenched matters.
  • naming how language has trapped us matters; letting it free us, even more!
  • doing every bit of this not alone makes all the difference.

All of this, on repeat and with constancy and dedication, is what can and will change the world. Needed now more than ever, yes? 

May it be so.

About hearing voices…

Apr 22, 2022 | Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom, Writing

Yes, let’s talk about hearing voices…And (just a bit) about RAISING our voices and being countercultural! 

Over the past 8 months or so, I’ve been painstakingly recovering and republishing all my blog posts from 2004–2019. It’s a long story — why they left my website in the first place. And though some might argue the relevance of bringing them back at all, for me, they’re like an archive, a written history that documents much of my thought and certainly my growth for nearly 18 years.

As I been plodding away at this monumental task, I’ve noticed something: what I was talking about at the beginning and along the way is what I’m still talking about today. 

Yes, my writing has changed and strengthened. My viewpoints have expanded. My belief systems have pretty dramatically changed. And my life over those years? More transitions than I can possibly count! Still, in the midst — underneath it all — there are themes, patterns, questions, and a “voice” that has persisted throughout.

I’m seeing this literally in front of me, but I’m convinced I’m not unique.

If you could recall and recover where your mind has gone over the years, you would see the same: themes, patterns, and questions that have persisted, stayed, lingered. You would discover the “voice” that has been speaking to you all along — whether you’ve known, heard, or acknowledged it — or not. 

So let’s definitely talk about hearing voices!

WHAT THE VOICE KEEPS SAYING TO ME:

I’ll certainly not get it completely right and there’s FAR more for me to hear and learn, but were I to take a stab at articulating what this “voice” has been saying to me all this time — yes, through the blog posts; but far, far more, it would sound something like this:

You are enough. You are not too much. You don’t have to work any harder to be good or worthy or understood. You are beautiful. You are strong. You are wise. You are loved.

[I’d bet money that the voice within you has been saying something incredibly similar. I’ll get to that in a few paragraphs.]

It’s what I’ve been writing about on my own behalf and yours — over and over and over again. Not always blatant, often hidden between the lines, but infinitely present, nonetheless — speaking, thrumming, singing, calling me home to myself.

Here’s the thing:

I have not been hearing this voice (or writing about it) for so long because it’s distinct, unique, or special to me. Not at all! As I look back, I can see that this deeper voice within has been attempting to express itself, to make itself manifest in my life, because it’s what is TRUE. 

Which is why I’m pretty sure it’s the same voice that you hear — that you’ve always heard in one way or another — that will never stop speaking within you.

WHAT THE VOICE INVITES:

The invitation now — for you and me both — is to let it speak, let it drive, let it lead, let its truth be undisputed, accepted, fiercely claimed, and fully trusted. No longer doubted. No longer whispering. No longer being shouted over. No longer silent. And certainly no longer unknown or unheard.

The invitation now — for you and me both — is to acknowledge what IS true, what’s always been true, and then live it.

Would another quick review help?

You are enough. You are not too much. You don’t have to work any harder to be good or worthy or understood. You are beautiful. You are strong. You are wise. You are loved.

You definitely don’t need 18 years of my blog posts to find and hear the “voice” for yourself. Weave together the threads of your life that reveal this TRUTH: where it has been whispering, crying, beating within, longing to be heard and trusted, shouting, and most-definitely showing up. YES, PLEASE! MORE, PLEASE!

As a woman, you live in a world that is adamantly committed to you NOT listening to this voice. not believing it as truth. Because, quite frankly, if you did start listening, believing, trusting, and living this truth truth (that IS already and always yours), everything would fall apart: patriarchy, capitalism, colonialism . . . Yes, please!

There’s still more that I hear the voice saying when I look back, look within, and pay attention. It’s for me, to be sure — and for you:

Now, rise up. Trust yourself. Go deeper. Let go. Listen closer still. 

Once we’ve heard what’s true, then we’re called to live it.

Rise up. Stand up. Speak up. Don’t hold back.

Trust yourself. Your intuition, your wisdom, that know-that-you-know-that-you-know voice within.

Go deeper. Into your own stories, into your questions and doubts, into the conversations that will invite the kind of transformation and life that you desire and deserve.

Let go. Surrender. Open your clenched fists. Loosen your grip on others, on expectations, on demands, on control, on your endless self-critique. Breathe deep.

Listen closer still. Drop below the surface of the raging river that is your mind and listen to your heart — the still waters underneath, the voice that’s always been there, the truth — period, the end.

And did I mention?
You are enough. You are not too much. You don’t have to work any harder to be good or worthy or understood. You are beautiful. You are strong. You are wise. You are loved.

Now, rise up. Trust yourself. Go deeper. Let go. Listen closer still.

About NOT living a conventional life

Apr 8, 2022 | Sacred Stories, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

“Most of us live conventional lives. We want to avoid the discomforts that arise from complications. But the full, creative life must be open to unpredictability. Jewish wisdom urges us to open our eyes to the possibility of change, even to the need to break a rule. Sometimes the only way to grow is to take a bite of the apple.” ~ Rabbi Irwin Kula

Fantastic. Powerful. And true.

Here’s where we’re headed:

  1. a conventional life = avoiding discomfort
  2. a full, creative life = unpredictability
  3. change = breaking a rule (or two)
  4. growth = taking a bite of the apple

Yum!

When I look back at my own life, my adamant demand of avoiding discomfort (for myself and for others) has caused me to choose what is generally done or believed — at the expense of my intuition, my wisdom, my very heart. The opposite has also been true: when I have listened to my intuition, trusted my wisdom, and followed my heart it has always been outside of convention, incredibly uncomfortable, and most-definitely (ultimately) worth it.

How about for you?

  • What stories come to mind? Where, when, and with whom have you diligently worked to sustain comfort (your own and/or others’), maintain the status quo, avoid discomfort and choose convention?
  • Think about your own experiences of being uncomfortable. Are they also the places in which you’ve gone against the grain, done what’s unexpected, and (hopefully) chosen what’s best for you instead of what everyone else wanted from/for you? What does that invite you to consider?

Instead of resisting discomfort, how might we welcome it? Could we learn to see “complications” as a form of discernment; a trail of breadcrumbs that lead us to what is unconventional — and far closer to what we truly value and desire?

Because I do not want to live a conventional life, discomfort cannot be avoided.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the “state” of my life, now 61 years old, relatively-suddenly living on the other side of the country with my sister and her family, changing pretty much everything. It’s not the first time I’ve done something like this: seemingly random and unconventional. There is a part of me that wants to believe I’ve been the one to make this happen, but I know better. In truth, it has been the unexpected, the surprises, the random and seemingly-crazy choices that have ultimately shaped the life that is mine.

And just so you know, this pattern applies to far more than just “good” things! Some of the hardest seasons in my life were unexpected and completely out of my control — others’ decisions impacted me in excruciating ways, there were circumstances I could have no more predicted than flown, ramifications and realities were everywhere that I didn’t see coming. All unpredictable — and much to my chagrin. In the moment, the opposite of “full and creative,” but usually the means through which my life has found deeper meaning, more fullness, and yes, creativity, as well.

When we look back, we see all the twists and turns our story has taken; a plot that has been far less conventional and far more full-and-creative than we might have ever imagined or predictably planned on our own.

How about for you?

  • What thoughts come to mind when you think of allowing your life to be unpredictable?
  • Consider when you were most firmly grasping for control, what was predictable, and what felt safe. What words describe your life during those times?
  • What stories come to mind that you’d define as “creative and full”? How was unpredictability manifest in the midst?

When we find ourselves in places that feel the opposite of “full and creative,” it is probably because the need to control is dialed way up; we (falsely) believe that life is 100% ours to determine and shape.

[I certainly do not believe it’s all in the hands of fate. Agency and choice, will and determination — these things matter. Take heart: if you’re anything like me, there’s no risk whatsoever of these things disappearing! The challenge and invitation is allowing in the opposite, the unpredictable.]

When/if life feels empty and dry, unfulfilling and exhausting, it’s the unpredictable that’s called for — which means letting go, surrendering, releasing our grip.

I’m a huge advocate for breaking things: rules, traditions, assumptions, patterns, habits, beliefs.

I haven’t always been this way. In fact, far more of my life could be defined by following the rules — no matter what! It ensured that I’d be loved, accepted, and allowed, even honored and esteemed. And every bit of that worked for me — until it didn’t.

How about for you?

  • Do you agree that change cannot occur without rules being broken?
  • When have you broken the rules? What change occurred?
  • Can you name the rules that you’re afraid to break right now in service of your own change?

It’s important to note that rules — especially those that we follow as women — are a) what is demanded of us; and b) the very things that perpetuate patriarchy’s harm. It is defiant to intentionally break them — and it is critical.

If we want change, because we want change (for ourselves and for our world), we must be fiercely committed to being rule-breakers.

No surprise: I love this part of the quote the most!

Eve’s choice to eat the apple is what moved humanity forward, invited life in a more expansive world, even brought forth vastly increased intimacy and connection with the divine (vs. the opposite, as we’ve been told) and yes, compelled growth.

She serves as a woman’s best template, mentor, and muse. She provides a model of what it means to choose the unconventional, to be unpredictable, to break the rules, and yes, to take a bite of the apple.

And yet, what we have inculcated and internalized (even if unintentionally and unwittingly) through her story is just the opposite! Which makes me completely crazy AND explains, at least in part, why it’s hard for us to follow her lead. We feel the tension when we are perceived as:

swimming upstream
going against the grain
thinking for ourselves
acting on our own volition
choosing what we want
listening to and trusting our own wisdom

Every bit of this has been reinforced as “bad,” wrong, even sinful for thousands upon thousands of years!

How about for you?

  • What is your very first thought when you hear Eve’s name? What data does that give you about internalized beliefs related to risk, trusting yourself, or being defiant?
  • What IS the apple you most want to bite? Can you name what prevents you from doing so?
  • Once again, look back over your own life. What are the experiences that have enabled the most growth? How many of those held an element of choosing yourself over others’ expectations or demands?

Instead of seeing ourselves as defiant when we take a bite of the apple, we must recognize it as our truest nature; pursuing and cherishing growth is our truest nature!

If you ever want to hear exactly what I think about Eve’s story (and the way it’s been told), listen to my TEDx Talk.

*****

One more time:

“Most of us live conventional lives. We want to avoid the discomforts that arise from complications. But the full, creative life must be open to unpredictability. Jewish wisdom urges us to open our eyes to the possibility of change, even to the need to break a rule. Sometimes the only way to grow is to take a bite of the apple.” ~ Rabbi Irwin Kula

May it be so.

About welcoming exhaustion…

Mar 25, 2022 | My sort-of Sermons, Women's Wisdom

It may sound strange, but for me, exhaustion is welcome.

Years ago I had a job with a 90-minute commute each way. Getting there was never the issue; it was the return trip. I knew that when I finally pulled up in front of the house, two little girls would be waiting for me. They wanted my full attention; they wanted  of me. There was dinner to fix and dishes to wash and laundry to do and stories to read. On top of it all, my husband unintentionally expected me to read his mood, respond appropriately, and meet every need. (I’m tired just remembering this!)

the closer I got to home, the more weary I felt — the  of what I wanted and needed. I began to realize that with every passing mile, I became less myself and more the person I needed to be . Bottom line: there was a huge-and-growing gap between who I  was and who he wanted me to be; and to be clear, I allowed, perpetuated, even reinforced this for a very long time.  was the exhaustion! Not the drive or the girls or the dinner-prep. I expended a massive amount of energy being someone I was not  I didn’t have to deal with my fear of what would happen if I was fully myself.

My exhaustion became a form of discernment. It drew me toward what deserved my attention, truth-telling, and courage. When we eventually divorced, it hard, but NOT exhausting. And that was data in and of itself!

Now, I hear myself say, “I’m exhausted” or more likely, “I’m weary” I whisper a prayer of gratitude. It’s a gracious and generous alert to acknowledge what deserves my naming and care.

A vast percentage of what makes us exhausted is feeling like we  feel exhausted. Our efforts become fixated on  feeling the way we do, instead of allowing, even welcoming,  that we feel and discovering what longs to be strengthened, healed, let go, and more.

  • Identify and then let go of internalized beliefs and external messages that tell you exhaustion isn’t allowed (or worse, that it somehow means you’re lazy).
  • Take a deep breath and tell yourself the truth about  how you feel? Write it down. Journal it out. Click your heels together three times and say it out loud, “I feel _______.”
  • How might exhaustion be your check-engine light? What is it indicating? What relief might be yours if you could name and address such?

When you allow your exhaustion — even welcome it — it makes room for something “more” to be seen, felt, and honored. Chances are high that whatever is, it won’t be exhausting at all; rather, honest, redemptive, and empowering.

*****

I write a letter every week. It’s my latest thinking, my deepest truths, and what I’d love for you to have. SUBSCRIBE.

About unexpected change and then some

Mar 18, 2022 | Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

I didn’t expect to move from Washington to North Carolina 2 months ago. The prospect didn’t even enter my conscious consideration until early December, when I flew to my sister’s as birthday present to myself. Yes, months earlier she’d mentioned that I should inhabit her 3rd floor, but I didn’t take her seriously. Who means that? Who offers that? Who really wants someone else living in their home? But once I got there, sitting in her living room, drinking coffee, and actually entertaining the possibility, it became shockingly clear to me that she wanted this. I could actually choose to say “yes” to a change that was bursting into my life — unexpected, surprising, shocking even.

How often we do we miss opportunity for change and transition? We either a) assume it’s not really ours to pursue or embrace; not really available; or b) immediately disregard it, given what it would require, cost (on multiple levels), and ultimately mean.

Though I have made this leap, believe me, there have been plenty of times in which I’ve not. Options were presented to me, but I disregarded them. I dreamed of something I really wanted, but didn’t believe it could actually happen. I knew that I could make a bold choice, but it felt too hard, too “out there,” too disruptive.

In denying myself the possibility inherent in change, I wonder: What did I miss out on because it felt like too much to accept, to walk toward / through, to be too good to be true?

Even more importantly: What change might yet be on the horizon were I to open myself to change, look for it, even assume that it’s right around the corner?

For me, at least this time, to not accept what’s been so graciously offered, feels like turning my back on something mysterious, even miraculous, that is clearly functioning on my behalf. I don’t want to ignore what doesn’t make sense. Not anymore. I’ve done plenty of that over 5+ decades of my life. Instead, I’m leaping into the unknown with Change and Transition in the front seat and me along for the ride . . .

So, at least a cursory exploration of unexpected change. Now, what does it mean to intentionally choose such?

When my sister made her generous and heartfelt offer to move into her home and incorporate myself into her family, I had a decision to make. Well, lots of them, actually.

  • I had to intentionally choose to give up my independence, “solo” living, and autonomous lifestyle.
  • I had to intentionally choose to accept others’ care, connection, and love.
  • I had to intentionally choose to let go of “home” as I’ve created it for myself and instead, let that idea be more loose and fluid.
  • I had to intentionally choose to leave behind a city I’ve lived in for 30 years, in which I’ve raised both my daughters, that is still their home — even if not in chosen location.
  • I had to intentionally choose to say (incredibly hard) goodbyes to friends and family with whom I’ve been proximity-connected for most of my life.
  • I had to intentionally choose to trust that even if this doesn’t work out, that there is something yet ahead that I can and will step into and embrace.
  • And not insignificant, I had to intentionally choose to live without a kitchen of my own and a bathroom on the 2nd floor. 🙂

Some of these, admittedly, are small and inconsequential; others are huge and still in-the-works in my own mind and heart. Still, to spend the past few weeks sitting with the option and availability of choice — and then making such — has been empowering and humbling.

Here’s what I’ve come to: We almost always have choice; it’s the making and taking of such that trips us up. Whether it’s the unknowns or the tradeoffs or the sacrifices or even the benefits, we are far more comfortable with the status quo (even while we complain about it).

I say none of this to somehow affirm my own maturity or wisdom. Just the opposite! I have shunned choices left and right over my lifetime. I’ve not seen myself (or others) as able to handle them. I’ve found them inconvenient and hard. I’ve chosen the devil I know for the one I don’t.

What I’m inviting (for me and you both) is the possibility of just the opposite — of opening ourselves to the ample invitation of change and then intentionally choosing it. In my experience, both right now and in my past, it’s then that grace rushes in.

Finally, how “accepted” disruption serves. This, of my three points today, is the one that’s been on my mind a lot the past few weeks. Not because my own life-circumstances (or personal versions of disruption); more because I can’t not see just how frantically our culture works (often successfully) to keep us from accepting and allowing the harder parts of life . . . to our detriment.

We cannot avoid disruption — despite our endless attempts to do so. “Highlights” of recent and unavoidable disruption include:

  • The 2016 election
  • The necessary and long-silenced truth brought to light in the Me Too and Black Lives Matter movements; the miles-and-miles-and-miles we have yet to go related to sexism, racism, ableism, ageism, and so much more
  • Global warming
  • An international pandemic
  • The drama of the 2020 election
  • New strains of the virus
  • The list goes on . . .

Then there are the more personal forms of disruption:

  • Job loss
  • Career changes
  • Financial strain
  • Relationship loss
  • Avoided conversations and the ramifications of such
  • Heartbreak
  • Death
  • Aging
  • Illness
  • Empty nests
  • Existential questions and crises

(Almost every one of these is on my personal list in the past few two years!)

In the midst of all these realities, we live in a world that demands we maintain a positive outlook, that we “choose happy.” And if that’s not possible, it seduces us to dissociate through consumerism — buying things, programs, and possibilities — that promise us relief from the pain of life.

It is pain that makes beauty evident and felt! It is disruption that invites an acceptance of our own complexity, and just how complicated and glorious our life truly is.

Anything less than this, from where I sit, is not only disingenuous, but tragic.

I want you to welcome the disruption, the pain, the crises, the ache. They are, after all, unavoidable; even more, they’re part-and-parcel with life, with your wild and precious life. To allow in what you attempt to resist, even embrace such, is the best option (if not the only one) that allows for a life that is full, rich, real, and true.

And at the end of all things, that is all I want for you, for me, for all of us: a life that is full, rich, real, and true — inclusive of welcomed change and transition, intentional choices, and accepted disruption. May it be so!

****

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3 Ways to Step into Gratitude

Mar 4, 2022 | Hope & Encouragement, Women's Wisdom

There’s a very old Hebrew Psalm that’s been circling in my mind lately. It’s an ancient prayer that is definitely not filled with praise or thanksgiving, instead, lament:

By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept
when we remembered Zion.
There on the poplars
we hung our harps,
for there our captors asked us for songs,
our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” (from Psalm 137)

In other words: How are we to be grateful or express thanksgiving when it is demanded of us? Or, maybe even more true, when we demand it of ourselves?

The list is long of things that can make gratitude feel arduous and disingenuous:

  • Racism, sexism, ableism, capitalism, colonialism, consumerism — an endless list of “isms.”
  • Family dynamics so tense that silence feels like your wisest choice — but also the most frustrating one.
  • Fears about money.
  • Fears about global warming.
  • A growing awareness about the ways in which the subconscious belief that you are “too much” is impacting, well, pretty much everything.
  • A resurfaced, painful memory from your childhood that keeps playing itself like a tape in your head, endlessly looping.
  • Hard parenting moments (if not full-on seasons, even years).
  • Political strife.
  • Uh, a pandemic!
  • Too many unspoken thoughts and feelings in your most important relationship(s).
  • A general feeling of anxiety and lostness; an internal swirling/churning that doesn’t seem to let up no matter what you try and frankly, doesn’t make a bit of sense to you.
  • Feeling like your life is in parts and pieces — disjointed, disparate, unhooked.
  • No matter how big, even loving, the group of people is, you still feel alone.

I could go on.

Asking the Hebrew people to sing songs when in captivity? You trying to feel grateful with this list? Impossible. Ridiculous. Unreasonable. Beyond capacity.

You feel the pressure to express, even feel gratitude when really, somedays, the best you can do is get out of bed.

To pretend like all of these things (and so many more) don’t actually exist — or to sweep them into some dusty corner for the day — so that you can smile and say the right things and feign gratitude is exhausting.

Feigned gratitude is also nearly-always demanded of us. Especially as women.

  • Just keep smiling (like Dori in Finding Nemo — “just keep swimming…”)
  • Make sure things are OK for everyone else.
  • Don’t upset the apple cart.
  • Keep your feelings to yourself.
  • Don’t complain.
  • And be grateful, will you? After all, things could be worse!

This last bullet point is a very slippery slope. I hear it often from clients (and even within myself at times). “Who am I to complain, compared to the problems that other people have?” “I hate to even talk about this; it feels so insignificant in the scheme of things.” “Really, I’m lucky; I’ve no right to not be grateful.”

Here’s the thing: all of those things can be true, may be true, but so are your struggles, your fears, your anxieties,  your family dynamics, your challenges, and your exhaustion!

You are not all good or all bad, all happy or all sad, all grateful or completely ungrateful. You are a complex and amazing woman who holds a multitude of realities and emotions and experiences and roles and responsibilities and heartbreaks and hopes — all at the same time!

This, my friend, is where gratitude can at least begin: acknowledge just how vast and deep all of you actually is — not only the “acceptable” parts but also (and maybe even more) those parts that you have the tendency to sweep into those dusty corners.

Gratitude has to be, gets to be, inclusive: the hard stuff as well as the beautiful, the ache as well as the celebration, the failure as well as the success, the loneliness as well as the love, the reality as well as the hope.

I hate to be too reductionist, but here’s what I believe:

Acknowledging what is true is gratitude.

Honestly name the reality of who you are,
and what you feel,
and all that you experience,
and all that makes you crazy,
and all that you wish you could change,
and every single thing you wish for, hope for, desire, and deserve.

That list? Those things? All of them? They are you!

When I consider you? All of you? Well, all I feel is grateful. Yes — you are conflicted and confused and complicated. Yes — you are generous and genuine and gracious. Yes — you get angry and frustrated and irritable. Yes — you feel afraid and worried and anxious. Yes — you are trusting and optimistic and willing to try yet again. Amazing!

The ability to take in, see, hold, and honor all of you is what generates gratitude. Acknowledging what is true. Not forced. Not demanded. And maybe even somewhat unexpected. It’s grace, really.

*****

So, 3 ways to step more deeply into gratitude?

  1. Acknowledge the complexity and beauty and conflictedness of all of you. Then you can better allow the same in others.
  2. Allow the pain of the world and its beauty. Then you can feel into just how deep and vast and infinite your emotions truly are. (One of them might just be gratitude.) YOU are that deep and vast and infinite!
  3. Begin to name the parts of you that you’ve worked so hard to overcome or at least keep hidden. Yes, it can feel overwhelming and scary; but it is the very thing that invites you to step into a story (and life) that is honest and expansive and true and real and raw and vulnerable and tender and fierce. And that? Mmmm. Definitely gratitude!

It is true: there is MUCH that gives us cause to be ungrateful — as it should! Endless internal and external messages that deny our value and worth. Patriarchy. Objectification. Sexual trafficking. Domestic violence. Pay and leadership inequity. Misogyny. The list is l o n g.

But this is also true: in the midst of all this, still, YOU are you!

Mysteriously, amazingly, serendipitously, incomprehensibly — you survive, your story endures, your wisdom persists, your heart loves.

I don’t know how else to respond, but to say thank you.

I’m hopeful that you can say the same — to yourself and for yourself, in grateful response to all of who you are — even now, even still, in the midst.

May it be so.

*****

Every week I write a letter to my subscribers. There’s no skimming the surface; instead, it’s filled with truth-telling and diving deep. I’d love for you to have it. And I’d be super-grateful. Every Monday morning — your inbox — from my heart to yours. SUBSCRIBE.