Altitude

I've been in the Colorado mountains for a week, as my husband and I practice working from anywhere in the world. We've begun our days here with a bike ride at an altitude over five thousand feet. 

As I rode today, my breathing was still labored; I thought by today that my body might feel more adjusted. Yet, more than yesterday even, I struggled for breath despite coaching myself to breathe more slowly, more regularly, more evenly. 

My mind wanted to go to that place, screaming to turn back, yelling that I can't make it, taunting that I was being left behind in my husband's tracks. I ascended the first significant climb along our path and stopped for water as I gasped. I allowed my eyes to focus on the mountain vista and remember that I'm new at this. 

I gathered myself and my breathing eased, and it occurred to me in that moment that being at a higher altitude than normal and feeling out of sorts serves as an apt metaphor for anything we attempt to do in this life that requires us to show up differently. To achieve our dreams, to become the next, best version of ourselves, we can feel breathless.

We can feel like turning back.

We can feel like we can't keep up. 

We can feel unsteady and uncomfortable.

And we can rise. We can, day by day, adapt a little more to the space we are stepping into in this life. If we remember to breathe, to trust that we will get to where we want to be, and to continue along the path, we will become what we desire. 

Along the journey, friends, don't forget to look to the horizon for inspiration, and just keep peddling.

You Know Kindness

You were born knowing kindness. It's how we are all wired. 

We unlearn it. I promise. And we can learn to allow kindness to be our normal setting again.

I was witness recently to innate kindness. I turned down an isle at the grocery story to buy almond butter and in front of me was a mom pushing her cart, followed by her daughter, who was maybe five. On the other side moving toward us was a mom pushing her cart, followed by her daughter, who was also about five. 

As the small girls came within ten feet of each other, I watched a miraculous sight. Without words, they started walking toward each other, smiling joyfully, and they met in the middle of the isle. 

And they hugged.

I noticed the mom, who was directly in front of me, was another witness to this beautiful scene, and I asked, "Do they know each other?"

"Not at all," she replied, as she, too, watched with a smile.

As the little girls held their embrace, and I honored the nudge I felt and asked the mom, "Can I have a hug?" She smiled brightly, we moved into each other's personal space, and we hugged. It felt easy, natural, and really good.

In that moment, I felt seen. I felt connected to a perfect stranger. I had followed the lead of two, five-year olds, who were still embracing when the mom and I released each other.

I had reconnected with a deep truth: we show up here on planet Earth in love with each other. Expressing that love is natural. No words are needed. 

What is needed is the courage to be who we truly are: loving, open to others, trusting, and kind. When we all find that courage, we will change the world.

My Grandmother, a Lightworker who Could Not Find the Light

On Mother’s Day, I find myself reminiscing about the women in my life and, in particular, my paternal grandmother, with whom I spent countless hours when I was a young child. I grew up on a farm where my father and his father worked together to raise livestock and crops, while my mother assisted in ways small and large. My place, therefore, was with my grandmother—I called her Mamaw— most every day.

I see snapshots of those pre-school years through memory-perfect images in my head. Each morning, Mamaw would cook a farmer’s breakfast, eggs, bacon, biscuits from scratch, so that the men—her quick way of referring to my dad and Papaw—ate a hearty amount, as they’d already worked up an appetite from their morning chores. After clearing away breakfast, Mamaw began lunch preparation immediately, first by making two pie crusts from scratch, filling and topping them with other from-scratch goodness, like butterscotch topped with meringue. She fried chicken for lunch—chickens that were raised on our family farm; she was a tough, farm woman and her kitchen was a one-woman meal factory.

While all this busyness was buzzing in the kitchen, the television sounded from small, wood-paneled, sitting room with the voices of Pat Robertson, Rex Humbard, Billy Graham, Oral Roberts—the Christian televangelists my grandmother worshipped. It was about 1970, I was nearly six years old, and I heard her speak her support for Billy Graham crusades and the people who were being “born again.” She talked about Jesus a lot and asked when I was going to have personal relationship with Christ. Mamaw’s father, who had been a violent alcoholic, had himself been “born again,” and turned from his “worldly sins”; Mamaw expressed eternal gratitude that Christ had saved her father’s life.

My grandparents were both loving and strived to live a life that matched their understanding of God. They discouraged dancing and attending “Hollywood films” in movie theaters, believed in basic, orthodox Christian doctrines such as the Trinity, and attended church events, like evangelical Sunday School and revivals, every time the church doors were open. They were model church citizens. I never heard them express criticism of other people; rather, their deepest desire was to live a life that modeled their values so that their life was an invitation to others.

I was on my Mamaw’s salvation-invitation list. Every day, after lunch was over, cleanup followed and gave way to Mamaw’s first time to sit and rest, and it was in those times that she spoke aloud her deep sadness for all lost souls, for all starving children in Africa, for all sinners, for all who had forsaken God. These heavy subjects settled in my young mind and my small body and felt like sadness. My Mamaw’s sorrow about the world was her refrain. She believed that there was a absolute connection between the unsaved and their Earthly problems, and she expressed this every, single day to me, nearly begging me to answer the question, “when will [I] accept Jesus as my savior?”

By the time I was twelve, my Mamaw’s mental health was failing, and she had expressed thoughts of suicide. She experienced deep, depressive states, heard voices in her head, and was often despondent. Her faith, ironically, had created such heaviness that she could not make her way toward any light. Day after day, for so many years, she had focused her thoughts on the darkness in the world—disease, famine, injustice, human suffering—and, despite her fervent prayers and faithful giving, the evangelists kept asking her for more money, more faith, more repentance, and more humility.

My Mamaw gave all of that and more, until she was depleted of anything to give. The promises made by televangelists to believers of material, financial, physical, and spiritual success caused my Mamaw to conclude that she had not done enough. Somehow, she saw herself as being punished by God, because her pureness of heart and spirit was not enough to save the world.

My Mamaw could not find the light and carried the world on her shoulders, even though it did not fit: it was way too large; way too round to sit still on two, tough-but-bony shoulders; way too heavy for one woman’s job. She exposed her soul’s sadness in proclamations of how the world simply must be saved—saved from need, saved from emptiness, saved from its very own self.

Treatment for my Mamaw’s psychosis seemed brutal—electroshock therapy, in which seizures are electrically induced. She experienced severe confusion and memory loss, and after having these treatments every week for nearly a year, my Mamaw ceased to exist as I knew her.

What I see now so clearly is that my grandmother, had she been living a few decades later, would have been referred to as a lightworker, “someone who has an enormous draw to help others,” according to A Conscious Rethink magazine. In a February, 2017 article written by Catherine Winter, I was struck by how accurately the these particular descriptions of a lightworker defined my Mamaw.

My Mamaw had a, “keen awareness of the suffering of others," along with a, “pressing desire or need to help or heal others.” She took on pain on behalf of those whom her preachers cried out. Ultimately, my Mamaw's deep depression was too dark and, despite all efforts, nothing had a positive impact. She offered all she had to those who were living in anguish, and my suffering grandmother had simply run out of lightness.

Today, I celebrate this woman, my Mamaw, whose life taught me that I can choose to bring light into the dark spots. Her old model of suffering has given me the new model of infinite possibilities available to all of humanity. This means increasing my light and protecting my energy, so that I can continue to expand and shine for others. My Mamaw, a depleted and less-than-optimally-radiant lightworker, did what she knew to do, and her gift to me is that I see humans’ need to form their own inner connection to God, Divine Source, the Universe. I encourage you to seek this connection and let it bolster your personal energy so that your light makes a positive difference in the world.

Anella Wetter is a speaker, writer, empowerment & relationship coach, and believer in the magic of life. You can connect with her at http://anellawetter.com.

What Are You Mastering?

I have a quick question: what are you mastering today?

Do you have a quick response?

Or, are you not really sure what you are mastering today. I know, your mind is elsewhere. I know, you're not really doing any personal development work today.

---

When I understood the concept I’m about to share with you,
it changed everything.

---

Lean in; I want you to hear this: You are mastering something, every moment, because in every moment, you are practicing a thought. Practice leads to mastery. It’s our thoughts that create our experience, so why not practice mastering our thoughts?

Lean in again; let this passage from The Mastery of Love sink in:

You have practiced all of your life to be what you are, and you do it so well that you master what you believe you are. You master your own personality, your own beliefs; you master every action, every reaction. You practice for years and years and you achieve the level of mastery to be what you believe you are.

Does this inspire you the way it does me? I’m empowered to be ever-more mindful of the thoughts I choose and ever-more clear about how my thoughts produce results.
 
But, Anella, you ask, “how can I be more mindful of my own thoughts? Humans have 60-70 thousand thoughts every day!”

Exactly, which is why the importance of these four, daily, mindfulness practices is so high. Remember, you are mastering something right now. It's the same effort and the same elapsed time to practice desired thoughts into mastery, so why wait?

Daily Practice #1 - Meditation

I committed to a daily meditation practice starting in January, 2013, and it’s still a daily practice for me. I’ve taken a few short breaks from meditation, but those roads were short because they got bumpy. Really bumpy.

I had taken meditation classes back in 2006, but back then, I was way vexed by monkey mindedness and meditation felt like wrangling a calf.  It was the year after my divorce, and I was desperate for some relief for my broken heart.

When I came back to the practice six years later, I had a different, “why,” that was motivating me, and I was fighting myself less, mainly because of my increasing dedication to a yoga practice. It was simply for the experience of meditating as a practice.

The fight that had been raging in mind had subsided and I noticed it that right away when I came back to meditation. It was an important shift from using meditation to salve my wounds. My old “why” for meditating was, “please just stop this pain,” but I wasn’t ready to let go and surrender to what was. This time, I was allowing myself to simply notice my thoughts without attaching to them, while breathing, sitting, and doing nothing.

So if you want to be more present in each moment, meditate. If you want a chance to master your thoughts, meditate. If you want to heal a broken heart, meditate.

Daily Practice #2 - Journaling

It’s woefully simple: get a blank notebook; pick up your favorite writing implement; set a timer for 15 minutes; write whatever comes to mind. No excuses. It’s for your eyes only, and expect yourself to tell the truth. I journal after meditation and that order feels important, as my mind is already quiet. In meditation, I desire to notice my thoughts but not process them. In journaling, I allow my language to surprise me. My thoughts spill onto the page in words that permit me to see myself in ways I had not before.

I think of journaling as the place to tell the truth to yourself, about yourself. What is truth? It’s that deeper understanding about our self that we so often shy away from seeking. It’s owning your own stuff—who you are, what your patterns are, what blocks hold you back from claiming what you want, what keeps you playing small in this world.

If you feel you’d benefit from having a more-structured, daily planner, I use the Daily Greatness Journal, along with a blank notebook; I use a wire-bound sketchbook I use for a journal, so I can open it up fully.  

Daily Practice #3 - Movement

Few of us move our bodies enough, not just for the sake of exercise (though that is a clear benefit), but for the sake of showing ourselves what we are capable of doing. Moving your physical body every day will change your life. Ask your body: what am I truly capable of achieving? What answer did you get? Of course, be super-committed to listening to your body, but really listen to it. All of it.

Ask yourself where your resistance to daily movement is coming from. Is there a deeper fear? Explore this with yourself in your journal. Maybe ask, “who would I be if I moved my body every day?” These questions are deep, self-inquiry questions, if you feel uncomfortable or emotional while considering the answers, I encourage you to seek the support of a trusted friend, a coach or a health-care professional.

Another way to approach movement is to create a goal and then select an accountability partner. What would feel impossible to you? A mile walk? A 5K? A 90-minute yoga class? A Tough Mudder? A half-mile swim? Choose something that feels out of range and set a goal to practice your way into accomplishing it. In order to be successful, you will need to master the limitations your mind will try to convince you of.

You will also be well-served to create a support team to help you meet your goals. For example, I committed to myself that I’d finish a marathon, and my friend, Christy, and I decided to train together and through Team In Training, which raises funds for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Both of us had finished a couple of half marathons by that time, so we knew how important training-compliance was, and we both ran our weekly plan and showed up together at 6 am on Saturday mornings to train with the group. You don’t have to go it alone!

Daily Practice #4 - Observation

Be the curious observer of what you’re practicing toward mastery. I began to notice that, with regular meditation, my mind is serene more and more frequently, which allows me to be conscious and curious about my thoughts, more gently and compassionately than ever before.  I’m on my way to mastering those ways of being toward myself.

My inner critic was in my head most of my 20s, 30s, some of my 40s for sure, and it shows up even now, from time to time, and with less impact, gratefully. I’ve practiced through meditation, journaling, and movement and have become skilled at the fundamentals of each. We all possess a number of human super powers, including our ability to think about our thinking, called metacognition.

Practicing metacognition is a key way to actually become skillful at gentle introspection and honest reflection, two traits that are critical to possess if we are to master our love for ourselves.

My New Book, Hear Me Universe!, Published on Valentine's Day

I'm excited to announce that my new book, Hear Me Universe: How I Deliberately Attracted the Man of My Dreams, was published today, on Valentine's Day! I invite you to head on over to Amazon and download your personal copy. This Blog shares the story that inspired my book.  
 
In 2008, I read, “The Love List,” a personal essay in Oprah magazine by Alice Gorman.[1] Gorman, a successful business owner in her 50s, had quite a satisfactory life, except for one thing: she didn’t have a romantic relationship. Taking the advice of a psychic, Gorman wrote a list of the 100 characteristics she wanted in a life partner and, to her surprise, a man who matched the list almost exactly entered her life; they fell in love and eventually married. The day after I read Gorman’s article, I told my colleagues over lunch, “I’m writing my list.”
 
I began a list of 100 characteristics that I absolutely required in the partner I wanted. I declared my heart’s deepest desires of how I wanted to feel in a new relationship and named the file, “Hear Me Universe.”
 
At the time, I was forty-four. Three years previously, I’d ended a 22-year marriage and was on a journey to understand myself better and create my “new” life. I was unsure of the whole post-divorce 40s dating scene which had left me feeling confused and uncertain about the patterns I saw repeating in my relationships with men.
 
I now know that the list I made was my declaration of self-love. It described what I deserved in a relationship. It defined how I wanted to feel in a relationship. It was the first step in calling to me what I most desired to experience. My theory was that, if I had a clear vision of what I wanted—my ideal relationship—then I’d “see” it more obviously.
I tested this theory in a bunch of ways, with some disastrous results, but what I absolutely learned was this: every, single time I ignored my list to be in relationships where I did not feel whole, I experienced emotional pain. Every time I compromised—sometimes just a little, sometimes a lot—on how I truly wanted to feel, I conceded my own heart’s greatest desires.
 
Gratefully, something always happened to awaken me from the difficulty I’d created. Like the time I literally heard my inner voice speak to me during a yoga class when I was in a relationship that required too much compromise on my part. The class was not unlike so many others I’d been in before—a typical studio and teacher, filled with mats and women—yet the teacher’s words that day pierced my heart. The theme of the class was, “truth,” and the teacher’s repeated invitation was, “find your truth.” We moved in ways to activate our solar plexus, the third chakra of the human body responsible for emotions such as self-worth, self-esteem, and personal power. My movements combined with her words created a shift in me, empowering me to break off my untenable relationship that very day.
 
Yet, there was apparently more for me to learn, as that relationship wasn’t the last one in which I compromised my ideal. Before long, I was in a new relationship and had slipped back into familiar patterns of settling for less than I truly wanted. Fortunately, at this relationship’s end, I spoke words that I needed to hear: “I think I’m darned cool. I’m smart. I’m kind and caring. I’m interesting to be around. I have a lot to offer this world.”
 
I felt that I was speaking truth, and more importantly, I felt empowered to finally step out of old patterns. When I spoke these words about my own worthiness, I had truly shifted into a new belief about myself. Internally, I promised that I would never again choose a relationship that required me to compromise my deepest desires.
 
In late 2009, I met Craig, to whom I’ve been married for six years, on Match, the online dating site. Encouraged by a friend, I had signed up for Match only a couple of months earlier. The process of creating my profile felt like another opportunity to speak into my own worthiness. I wrote it with honesty and from an energy of knowing myself better than ever. I uploaded photos of me in which I looked content, peaceful, and happy--none of which were professionally taken. I wanted to be seen just as I am: often a little disheveled, rarely wearing makeup, and usually smiling.
 
My love list guided how I described my requirements for the person I wanted to meet on Match. I was specific, direct, and unbending in what I wanted. My approach was different from the general tips offered by dating experts, which usually encourage you to avoid having a mile-long list of must-haves. I ignored the cautions against having lofty, stringent expectations. My mindset was this: I am searching for one man and the clearer I am about who this man is, the more likely I am to find him. I wasn’t interested in dating a lot; I was calling in the one. My specificity resulted in only two suggested matches, and one was Craig.
 
I invited Craig to meet me for coffee, because I immediately saw in his online profile the many ways that he matched my love list; the “headline,” he had written on his profile was, “I Still Want It All.” Over coffee, I learned that “All” meant that Craig wanted the relationship that we all dream of--a best friend, a confidant, a beautiful lover, and a helpmate. I learned that, like me, Craig had been deeply reflective about his first marriage, about what he wanted in this life, and about his path to understanding that who you aspire to attract is equal to who you think you’re worthy of attracting.
 
A couple of weeks after our first date, as he was leaving Kentucky for a holiday trip, I gave Craig two things: a copy of the poem, “The Guitarist Tunes Up,” by English poet Frances Crofts Cornford, to express how I felt when he played the guitar and sang for me, and a copy of my love list.
 
I suggested that he save my list to read on the plane. I explained how the list came to be and how I felt he possessed a lot of the characteristics I desired. When Craig landed in California, he immediately called me from the airport to say he’d “scored a 98.”
Months later, Craig proposed to me by singing David Gray’s “Be Mine.” The lyrics spoke to my heart. I felt I was stepping fully into the life I had envisioned when I wrote my list to the universe, with no obstacles keeping me from the life I wanted.
 
Our years together have been a perfect environment for self-growth, self-acceptance, and self-discovery. Attracting Craig, who lives life with vision and optimism as well as compassion and kindness, has been truly magical. He is so much more than my list.
 
My book, Hear Me Universe, is based on my original list to the universe. Each of my 100 desired characteristics is offered one at a time along with the answers to two key questions: “Why did that description make the list?” and, “What did I truly desire when I wrote this item?” I also crafted 100 journaling prompts, one for each item on my love list, to inspire you to get crystal clear on your ideal match. 
 
I’m sharing my story, in hopes that my experience inspires you to align with the desires of your heart. What I know is this: the person you aspire to attract matches your vision of the person you believe you’re worthy of attracting.

Starting Anew

Today, I took a leap of faith, belief, trust--of everything--and I ended my 16-year career in sales. I am grateful for my professional experience, my success, my colleagues' support and grace, and I am READY to step forward into what's awaiting me.

hese 16 years were preceded by 14 years as a classroom English teacher and a curriculum specialist for a school district, so today marks the end of my 30 years of working for an institution or corporation. While it's true for me that some days were long and frustrating, what is also true for me is that I loved what I did to earn a living. As a teacher, I loved my students, admired my colleagues, and enjoyed teaching literature and helping kids write about what they were learning and about who they were. In my sales career, I have served teachers and their school districts to the best of my ability. As a people-manager for most of my sales career, I've been honored to lead teams of dedicated, sincere, high-energy sales people. 

You might ask then, why take a new path? 

It is simply time. I feel it deep within me. To some, that may not seem like much of a reason to resign from a career that has cared for me and my family, helped fund a college education for my 2 kids, provided a more-than-comfortable lifestyle that I truly enjoy. Yet, for me, knowing it's time is enough.

As with any new path, I believe it's fueled by what we bring forth from where we've been. There is no losing something I've had, no giving up who I am. I leap today with everything I have learned and experienced and know. It's impossible to NOT step out today having been shaped by these 30 years of my life. 

I bring all my abilities with me: collaborator, planner, strategist, coach, mentor, problem solver, implementor, evaluator, celebrator--these all exist within me and I can't help but be served by my experiences. 

Today, then, I start anew, yes, but with so much richness to lift my sails, despite the headwind I may feel at times. 

I also want to show that it is possible to start anew, whatever that might look like for you. I am proof of that. Start, first, with a vision of what you desire to bring into your life.

Two years ago, I wrote a general list of how I want my days to be, which includes:

I work with passionate learners
Energy and kindness flow from me
My days are energetic & peaceful
I bless people
Yoga is central to my day, and I share it with others
I am surrounded by great books that I read every day
My days are pleasant & the pace is exciting & perfect

Today, I have a vision, and I have experience. I'm taking action and slowing down. I'm ramping up and pacing myself. I'm feeling into a new path and using all I know to form what's next. 

For today, that's enough.