Awaken

Last night’s dream shook me up, at first. In it, I was back in an earlier time in life, My Time of Great Confusion. I was back in the context of past relationships and, in my dream, the relationships were both overlapping and overwhelming. Both wanted something from me right then, and I wanted to give neither what was being asked.

So I found myself unsettled—literally, figuring out where to unpack my things—and fearful of not doing the thing I was being asked to do. The Me in my dream feared I’d never be able to make everyone happy and that feeling of confusion came through clearly, when a friend appeared and asked me what the hell I was doing. And she appeared in a closet, a closed-door room where I was feeling frantic.

Yesterday, I’d written a blog about how I’ve invested so much energy in an old story: if I’m more like you and less like me then you’ll love me more. It’s a story that has left my body now, though I can see some threads of it that want to stay, which is one thing my dream was showing me.

Then, I was awakened, literally, by my loving husband, asking if I wanted to join him for breakfast at a cool vegan place he’d found here in Denver, where we’re living this month. It was a perfect ending to this dream, as I heard the asleep me want to say, “yes, babe, I’ll hop out of bed right now and join you.”

But then I truly woke up and with a flood of energy, I thanked him for his kind invitation but expressed that I wanted to stay in, meditate, and go to a yoga class.

I claimed exactly what I wanted. My husband smiled and said, “enjoy, sweetheart.”

Later in the day, I told Craig about the dream I was having when he woke me up, and he saw something that I didn’t yet see. Craig’s arrival in my life, after My Time of Great Confusion, was in the midst of my spiritual awakening, and he literally awakened me from this old dream this morning.

I sit in gratitude at this moment. I’m grateful for all the inner work I’ve done to move me from My Time of Great Confusion to My Time of Amazing Clarity. I’m grateful to be in partnership with another Awakened soul, who is willing to help me see what I’ve missed when I’ve fallen asleep.

Life as a Recovering Approval Junkie

Life has a freshness for me these days, which is what happens when we move from having an intellectual understanding of ourselves to embodying the new way of being.

I've recovered from a severe addiction that showed up in my life again and again and again. The story that perpetuated my addiction sounded like this: if I'm more like you and less like me, then you'll love me more."

Breaking my addiction to being more like someone else to win their approval--therefore their love--has required me to drop old stories about other people's expectations of me. And when we drop all the stories of what we should be, all that is left is ourselves. All that is left to do is to write a story that is completely ours.

We all have a version of this story line, as we're taught it from the time we show up here on Earth. Even the most loving parents, grandparents, teachers, and other adults in our lives socialize us into believing that the way we desire to BE is not the way to BE. We are taught to DO THIS, NOT THAT; BE THIS, NOT THAT. SAY THIS, NOT THAT. THINK THIS, NOT THAT.

At the heart of my addiction is the notion that I'm not good enough--that being me is less than being like someone else. The self-judgment can be debilitating as we continue to wear the mask of someone else.

What this addiction has looked like for me is comparison, competition, and confusion. And this addiction can be the gateway to other addictions that don't serve our highest and greatest good.

Comparison happens when we embody the belief that we are not good enough. Instead of being able to recognize our individual perfection, we live in the space of continually feeling that we don't have as much, don't offer as much, or aren't complete just as we are. In not recognizing our own perfection, we look to others as the elusive example of what's better.

Competition has shown up in my life looking like overachieving and overdoing. The feeling of needing to prove myself beyond the essence of who I am has been debilitating at times. What if we trusted that we are enough, that we can shine fully by choosing to live in our fullness, with grace and ease? How would that feel?

Confusion is the opposite of clarity, and when we live in confusion of who we truly are, we can be less courageous to claim what's important to us, less curious about our own potential, and less grateful for the whole of who we are.

As we individuate more and more, we can find our personal growth bumping up against all of these old stories and, ultimately, the question we each must answer for ourselves is WHO AM I?  

When we ask this key question and allow the answer to arise, what we will always learn is this: we will never, ever go off course when we trust what our heart tells us. We will only be in alignment with the essence of ourselves when we choose to listen to our inner voice, and ask questions like, "what would feed my spirit the most in this life?" and, "how am I honoring me with this choice?" 

Ultimately, I've overcome my addiction to others' approval by getting clear on who I am, what I believe is true about this life, and by having the courage to stand fully in my own authenticity. When I learned to trust that I am whole, I am perfect, and I am enough, my old stories that kept me living only part of my life as me fell away, and I am able to embody my own, unique essence. 

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.

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

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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.