Diva.....With Children

I have been excitedly anticipating the birth of my second child and marveling at how different the experience already is. Aside from the fact that my body seems to have remembered its last journey into pregnancy and complied with alarming speed to put padding on the various aspects of my anatomy that didn’t really need embellishment, I have also noticed how different I am this time round!

My last pregnancy was five years ago. A time in my life when I had nearly given up the prospect of motherhood and channeled all my restless nesting urges into the growth and expansion of my businesses. In the midst of this outpouring of commingled grief and creative energy, I discovered I was pregnant. What an unbelievable miracle!

In spite of longing for motherhood, when it arrived, I found myself woefully unprepared. Not only because I was inexperienced but also because my business life had assumed incredible momentum. I had invested all my energy in creating things outside myself. I had invested next to none in finding out who I was.

I juggled between my precious child who needed every last bit of my energy and the unrelenting demands of running two businesses. Pulled in every direction, I suddenly found myself completely adrift in my life. Exhausted, overwhelmed and continually in demand I simply went through the motions everyday in order to wake up and do it all again. My great, nearly unspeakable fear was that I was in imminent danger of completely losing myself.

During a sudden moment of clarity when my infant son was hospitalized, I realized that everything I had done so far and all my achievements had to do with meeting someone else’s expectations. I was in danger of losing what was most precious to me and only I had the power to make it different. I embraced my inner Diva!

After this crisis was safely navigated I began my quest to find out just who I was underneath the many layers of social tradition, expectations and assumed roles. Although I was becoming clear about what I didn’t want in my life, it took me a little longer to publicly claim what I did want. I began my journey of rediscovering my north star. Keeping my eye on my guiding intention- my north star, I took stock of what I needed to acquire for this journey, what I needed to jettison and how I would know I had in fact reached my destination. I took one step in the direction of my desired destination and I felt the universe swoop forward to meet me.

Life has continued to unfold with many wonderful surprises along the way, this latest pregnancy being one of its marvels. This time, I know who I am, I know where I am going and motherhood is simply one special aspect of that journey. It doesn’t define “me” as the essence of me remains unchanged. Having finally claimed them, I don’t believe that I must sacrifice my dreams and aspirations on the alter of motherhood. This time, I am stepping into the next chapter of my life with children – as a full-fledged Diva! Great thing is, I know that there is no greater gift to my children than to be 100% me because it gives them permission to be 100% them!

Death and Taxes

Today I have decided to finish up my accounting in preparation for the inevitable tax season. As you can see, I'm writing instead, indicative that this is a task I find more distasteful than cleaning the sludge out of my refrigerator crisper drawers (see Dancing Around)!

I have long history of financial avoidance. This is an issue I have been working through, layer after layer for some time. There was a time in my life, not really that long ago, where I would actually begin to feel physically ill as I reviewed my business accounts. It didn't seem to matter whether business was healthy or struggling, my stomach would churn, always expecting the "worst". I can't even tell you what the "worst" would be, only that it felt like some primordial fear wired into my body. It would coldly slink and slither through my gut and then grab my throat squeezing tightly while my legs went to jelly. I think my most important discovery was that these sensations remained present no matter what my financial situation. Clearly, it had little to do with money. It certainly had a lot to do with fulfilling my own prophesy of doom and gloom.

Tax season was certainly the most painful period in my life until recently. My husband would generously offer to help and then we would fight and bicker until the damn thing was filed with life retuning immediately to normal afterward. Normal except for the confusion and shame I felt about my uncharacteristic bitchiness in the face of his help.

Taxes came to head for me one year when my husband asked me to come up stairs and help him sort out a few questions he had about entries that had been made on the books. I thought I was having a heart attack, stroke and perhaps the apocalypse had chosen that very moment to begin. The air rushed out of me and I sank weakly into a chair. In those few seconds, with all my attention turned inward, I took breath after breath as all these bizarre sensations coursed through me at lightening speed. What felt like an eternity came to an end 5 seconds later with a wonderful sense of calm.

I still have difficulty putting into words what occurred in those brief few seconds. In its aftermath, I knew that I was not going to be harshly judged, that I wasn't stupid, that whatever boogie man I had been expecting to arrive was never going to come. I calmly and intelligently clarified the few questions my husband had and walked away from his desk on a cloud.

This was the first in a small avalanche of shifting attitudes about my finances. The second followed quite closely afterward and truly reminded me to stay in my body when these big waves of discovery come along. I was driving back from one of my offices that I was struggling to re-launch after my primary referral source had locked up and left practically overnight. Financially, things were certainly not looking good at the moment. I had a plan and it was working well so I also knew the turn around was coming. I was mulling all this over when my thoughts were abruptly interrupted by my ringing cellphone. It was my bank contact asking if I could drop by his office.

I felt like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar - totally busted! I panicked, I prayed, I marvelled at how he could already know- the situation was a very new one. I did pretty much everything but breathe and relax into my mounting paranoia. Arriving at his office in quite a state, I barely heard the sales pitch he offered about a new banking product he thought I might be interested in. My brain was busy chanting that I got "away" with something. Saying goodbye, I knew I was nearly unhinged when I heard the tinge of hysteria behind my laughter and noticed him visibly pull back. I could have cared less - I was free!!

I got into my van and went to pieces. Where did this incredible shame and guilt come from. I simply couldn't win. If I was doing well, I was terrified people would think I was greedy, nasty, unfair or that I would be forced to give up the evidence of my hard work to someone else. If business wasn't going well, I was in constant fear of losing it all, of being labelled a failure and being condemned as stupid and lazy. Talk about a rock and hard place - there was no where left to go with this dance but inward.

Alternately breathing and sobbing in a parking lot over the impossible situation I had created for myself and once again what felt like an eternity, lasting likely less than one full minute, was over and I understood. I carried so many rules that weren't my own that they created an impossible set of hurdles.

I believed that if I had something, it meant there was less of it available for someone else. I believed that who I was as a person was inextricably linked to my finances. I believed that it was uncharitable to not give everything away. I had no faith in my own worth and value. I believed every comment ever offered offered that I was lazy and unproductive - even though there were probably very few instances in my life where those words had been uttered. I needed to do well to prove my worth and success- but not too well so that I could be likable and acceptable.

What a confusing mosaic of conflicting beliefs, values and attitudes - and not one of them came from me - they were all acquired along the way. I watched my grandfather do nearly the same dance and upon his death, saw the devastating effects of his carefully crafted illusion of charity when his own home and business were mortgaged almost beyond recovery.

A pillar of the community, he must have struggled mightily to keep his life afloat. He was a generous and mostly self-educated man with multiple health problems, compounded no doubt by the pressures he was living with. I'm sure my grandfather felt his options were severely limited. I'm betting he wrestled mightily with how to walk away from the expectations of the many he employed in the only grocery store for miles around, from all of those he gave free food and clothing too who had come to depend on his charity, from his family who came last when it came to financial care in spite of his deep love for them. I doubt he was aware of how he martyred himself or what the ripple effects would be. Like many of us, I'm sure he hoped every day that something would turn around, that his next gamble would pay off.

I learned his lessons well. They were never spoken but modelled clearly. I was my grandfather's mirror image. All of which was reinforced in my immediate family by an undercurrent of judgement, skepticism and likely envy levelled at my Great Uncle - also a business man but perhaps a more savvy one in that, while charitable, he also was unapologetic for creating wealth. The stage was set for my competing beliefs. Oh what a complicated web of things to be absorbed by a pre-teen.

Add to that my mother's budgeting habits. On payday, she would pay all the bills, grocery shop and set aside a bit of spending money while the rest went into the bank. I never really knew these details on her system until a recent conversation. All I remembered is that my Dad got paid and within a few days, when we kids were asking for something that she deemed frivolous, she would wave an envelope with $20 in it and tell us this is all we had to live on until the next payday. I wasn't that old but I sure knew that you can't feed a family of 5 on twenty bucks!

So in spite of never being hungry or going with out clothes, I lived perpetually on edge, thinking financial disaster must be near. Even more confusing was the fact that my Dad, a police officer in the small community that we lived in had a job that many other families envied for its steady pay. We were well off by most people's standards. I accepted the paradox, like so many other irreconcilable realities of my young existence. Some things are for public display while the truth lived within the walls of our home.

Fast forward 15 or more years later and there I sat in the farthest reaches of the bank parking lot, a mascara streaked mess on the outside with a deep sense of peace moving through me. I didn't have to live by these insane rules anymore! I could pick and choose. Deep in my heart I knew I was taking charge. In the months that followed I discovered some amazing things about the difference about living with a belief in scarcity or abundance, about how they are connected to whether I believed the world was a safe place or a dangerous one. I discovered that although my early years felt filled with secrets and inconsistencies, I wasn't alone and even more importantly, I could decide if I wanted to continue to live like that. And perhaps the most freeing discovery of all, my newly claimed power and capacity to choose for myself - not based on someone else's rules or example, but just for me!

That particular tax season was a death of sorts. The death of a lump of beliefs, values and attitudes that were destroying my health, my peace of mind, my relationships and which had become a tireless loop of holding myself in check while casting furtive glances over my shoulder.

I'd be lying to you if I said it was completely over it, but I can confidently tell you its a minor blip on my radar these days. I recognize the vestiges of those old beliefs from time to time when I feel that familiar slick sensation gliding through my belly - but now I know what it is - a time to make a choice about how I wish to move forward.

Today, as I dance around completing my accounting and getting my taxes in order it is with the same reluctance that I consider cleaning out my overflowing spare bedroom closet - a big, messy task that ultimately rewards me with a sense of order that will last for a month or two before it begins to require my attention again!

Embracing Your Inner Diva

This article was written for the Diva's Do It, Why Don't You Event happening on March 1, 2007. For more infomation regarding this charity event, visit www.Wallisforwellness.com

In searching for a definition of “Diva” I was struck by the contrast between Diva (or Deva) – meaning goddess and the other, less savory connotations of demanding, high-strung women.

This dance between diva as sacred and diva as destructive has been going on for centuries. When it was my privilege to write for the book, Sekhmet Rising: The Restlessness of Women’s Genius, I was struck by the conflicting aspects of Sekhmet as a powerful goddess of creation and other stories of her destructive nature, drunk on her own power. It would seem that to this day we continue to struggle with what we perceive to be the dual nature of women who are awake to their own power and potential as they create their lives.

I personally embrace the notion of Diva as an expression of our sacred nature, confident and comfortable when simply being true to oneself. When I think of Divas there are a few characteristics that come to mind:

Divas know who they are and don’t apologize for it

They celebrate their inner and outer beauty, taking time to nurture themselves, knowing that they deserve it

Divas think outside the box, never hesitating to break away from the pack, trusting their inner compass

They celebrate and embrace the people in their lives, recognizing that the world is an abundant place and that we all benefit when we are each the fullest expression of our authentic selves

So why is it that so many of us shy away from full-time diva-dom? Sure, we can allow ourselves the opportunity to be diva-for-a-day among our closest friends but when it comes to living our lives, many of us remain reluctant to embrace our inner diva. I suppose we need look no further than the conflicting opinions about divas to discover why we might be somewhat ambivalent about embracing our inner Diva. Weren’t we raised to be nice girls? Weren’t we taught time and again to go with the flow, don’t rock the boat, follow the group? That group might have been family, friends or co-workers but the unspoken message was, for the large part, to blend in even though we each, deep inside, know we are unique. Blending in can cost us our dreams, our peace of mind and often, our health.

Long held as the nurturers and the keepers of relationships, women have often put their own needs aside in favor of another’s. We can become lost under any number of assumed identities – mother, daughter, sister, wife, and so on. As we each intuitively know, none of these aspects of our lives are who we truly are. And yet our roles can easily form the boundaries of how we live our lives. We strive to be “good” mothers, “good” daughter’s – all extensions of being “good” little girls.

When we express our deepest self, our inner goddess, we worry that we might be becoming “too” big for our britches, too selfish, too demanding. As I write this, I’m wondering will these readers think me “too serious”! We are rarely immune from looking over our shoulder’s to assess how we will be perceived. Where I believe the magic lies in what we choose to do next. Do we take a look and decide that what someone else thinks of me is none of my business? Do we take a deep breath and discover that safety is indeed an inside job and trust ourselves to move forward – even when it flies in the face of popular opinion? Do we pause and find our inner voice, our inner compass and trust it? Each is a simple act of courage and a choice to embrace our inner diva. The great thing about discovering that our every response in life is in fact our choice, is that we are no longer falling blindly into prescribed roles, we are embracing our inner diva! And it happens, one choice at a time.

Diva-dom is not some unreachable destination meant for someone else – it is available to each of us the moment we begin to make conscious choices. Follow the “rules” (and whose rules are they anyway?) or follow your inner compass? The choice is always yours and the moment you are aware that your response is your choice, is the moment that the diva that you are awakens!

Love...Heartbreak... and the Space Between

"The deepest secret in our heart of hearts is that we are writing because we love the world"

~ Natalie Goldberg~

Well, Natalie, I couldn't agree more! Perhaps I'm a day late for a love themed entry, but this feels timely. My Valentine's Day entry had lots of fire and passion behind it - today's entry is more of an after glow.

For a long time I really didn't want to disclose my love of the world. It just felt hokey somehow. It also left me feeling quite vulnerable. There are many jaded opinions out there and lots of folks who aren't particularly enamoured with their lives or the world we live in.

Loving the world doesn't mean I necessarily feel good about everything that goes on in it. In fact, I think it is because of deep love that I feel moved to not look away. I want to observe and and share.

Often words are a way for me to caress experience and hold it close. Other times they vent and prod and demand more. Words create opportunities to knock down barriers in my perception. They are keys to unlocking something long hidden or lost. They are powerful, not for what they are but because of the intention that they represent. They can becoming living things, vessels of energy out into the world - and behind my words lies a deep love and reverence for life.

With love comes a capacity to see intelligence everywhere and in everything. Things that are tempting to judge become calls to action. I recall one of the most heartbreaking moments for me as I wrapped up my business was the realization that although I could clearly see the incredible potential in the women I employed and gave them many opportunities to develop it, one of them was unable to recognize it in herself. Her disclosure of how she causally dismissed and even leveraged my "naivety" stunned me. It was eye opening because I recognized then, that although you can love and appreciate someone else, champion their potential, pave the road ahead of them - it didn't matter unless they loved and believed in themselves first. What an incredible mirror to hold up for myself.

How many people have believed in me over the years? Loved me? Saw my potential? Paved the way for me? - All while I blindly held to a limited view of myself. I understand the intelligence in my former employee's desire to remain small and unchallenged because it is likely similar to my own strategies to avoid unwanted attention and criticism- just a different order of magnitude. By remaining a victim of circumstance, by continuing to under achieve there is no risk of failure and no requirement to overthrow old beliefs about becoming "too" anything - too smart, too successful etc.

Yup, my experience in that moment of realization at how my love and generosity felt thrown back in my face felt like incredible heartbreak. A freight train of despair at squandered potential thundered through my chest...and in its wake there was something new and much more resilient - the discovery that this particular young woman was simply reflecting back to me my own lack of love and respect for mySelf! I didn't need to feel angry or betrayed. I understood and the lesson has continued unfolding ever since.

Love/Heartbreak so often travel hand in hand ....and in the space between is the greatest opportunity to grow larger and more resilient. I've come to consider heartbreak as the shattering of old beliefs, paving the way for new construction.

As is so often the case, I am ending in a very different place than the one I started in. I am most certainly writing because I love the world - and its no secret anymore! Even more astonishing, the more I learn to love me, the more the world seems to love me back. Words are a powerful gateway for the love and intention that I experience within to make their way into the world at large.

Potpourri

Its a snow day and I am on day 9 with a spotty kid and a house bound doggy so please -send help! Just kidding!!

One thing I know for sure is that if I don't write today, my world will certainly not be "right". Without a creative fix, I can feel my fire morphing into irritation and restlessness. So while my son creates a mosaic of paint, glitter glue and stickers on his 8x11 paper and the surrounding 3 square feet of table, I'm snatching a few minutes to grab hold of the dust bunny-like thoughts swirling around in my brain.

The first dust bunny turns out to be a fiery little critter: I'm through with apologizing for my life!

Whew, that feels better! Let me explain, if you have read "Mommy Wars" and "A Woman's Worth" on my blogs, then you know that stay at home vs. work outside the home is a topic I've been wrestling with for awhile now. At the heart of the matter is my realization that I have spent far too much time and energy apologizing, most often where no apology is required!

I apologized for my time away from home when I would find myself negotiating with my husband's busy schedule or relying on my extended family for support when my child was sick. Often, I ended up simply apologizing to my clients and staff as I opted to stay home.

Now that I have created the opportunity to stay home while I work with a highly flexible schedule, I find myself sensitive to remarks made by harried working mothers. I feel like I owe them an apology for my freedom - that is until last night.

After mulling over a conversation with another Mom that left me stinging, I realized that I'm not special at all. I started with the same raw materials as most of the women I know and from those materials I have created a life I love. I worked hard in my life as a business owner and have opted for a slower start on my latest venture to create space in my life. My husband and I work at our relationship and hammer out our priorities and throw our full support behind each other when it comes to building our individual and collective dreams.

Nope, I'm not special - but I am very creative. I see opportunity. I'm willing to take risks because I know the world is an abundant place. I'm willing to be passionate about what I take on in my life and most recently, I discovered the courage to walk away from my creations when my passion has faded.

In fact, I'm done apologizing for still being in love with my husband 15 years later, for having a healthy child and expecting another, for how I look, for what's in my bank account, for being excited by life and displaying it for all to see. There is probably more to put on this list but you get the point. What a profound waste of energy! What are you apologizing for? Is it worth it?

Imagine what else you could do with all that energy and focus. Imagine what it is possible to create in you want life when you stop apologizing and get on with it. If you are someone walking around expecting apologies from those who are living the life you desire, then I bet your potential to create a great life of your own is limitless once you stop focusing on what you don't have and begin creating what you would like. Whether you believe it or not, there is some pretty compelling evidence that shows once you take the first step in the direction of your desires, the universe rushes to meet you. The result of co-creating with the universe in this way always seems to exceed expectations.

My final thought on this topic is that now that I'm done apologizing, I can get over myself and hear the longing behind the remarks I heard yesterday as sarcasm. A new space opens up into it can flow opportunity and possibility for a very different conversation.

The next dust bunny of swirling thoughts in this potpourri was inspired by the comment Anne left on my last posting. I've recently begun reading Lynn Mc Taggart's latest book, The Intention Experiment. In it, as in her previous book, The Field, she has gathered some amazing and compelling research into how thought and intention interact with the universe to create our experiences. This is something I think many of us intuitively know and it certainly supports my own experience and what I have discovered through a WEL-Systems(R) Perspective.

The ah- ha came for me just a few pages into the book as I considered the fact that the very essence of the world we live in is a rich field of possibility, only coalescing into something once observed. What an amazing act of creativity! My participation with the universe doesn't necessarily require me to acquire a long list of credentials or kudos. It simply requires my focused attention. As someone choosing to write and observe after a long history of needing to prove myself with tangible steps and actions, this is freedom indeed. It simply fills my soul to know that I am always in the dance of creation, even when there is nothing concrete to show for it in the moment. The pages may not always be piling up, but I am creating nevertheless, just by being awake and aware.

This discovery doesn't free me from participating and engaging, but it does free me to choose when. What I mean is that I don't have to rush willy nilly into creating shot gun-style, hoping that if I just scatter in enough directions, I'll hit something worthwhile. And I don't have to jump on every opportunity whether it calls to me or not. This discovery reinforces much of what I have seen working in my life and further debunks some tenacious beliefs about how I have been measuring my value as a creative being.

My final swirling thought comes courtesy of reading Lori's blog posting from yesterday. The profound mindlessness of command and control parenting using physical force, emotional battering and plain old indifference leaves me feeling filled with anger and despair. Its such a big problem and it seems that the busier we get, the less resourceful we become as parents. Our children are left to raise themselves and we grasp for what feels like "quick fix" parenting strategies when we feel that indifference isn't working. These strategies often being the same ones we vowed we would never resort to. We've become mindless and robotic.

What's the solution? I believe that Lori is going to make a profound difference with her parenting workshop and through her willingness to stay awake and engaged. I also believe that this issue, like so many others we are facing in the world will not be altered until we all WAKE UP!

We are a world of people asleep at the wheel while children are sold into slavery in African fishing camps, wars continue to fulfill religious and political agendas in spite of massive loss of life and destruction, the sea level rises as we try to fill up the empty spaces in us with more stuff creating more waste, poverty climbs taking its toll on those who live in our local communities and as well as abroad. I could go on and on.

When all is said and done, I believe that the answer ultimately lies within each us. Until we are willing to wake up and take a good look at ourselves and what we are creating in our own lives and by extention, in the lives of our children, our communities and our world - nothing can change.

Notice that I believe it begins inside us. When we change how we think, how we live our lives begins to change and the effect is like a ripple on the surface on a pond. Remember, we are constantly in co-creation with the Universe and the possibilities are endless.

Wake up, and you will know what to engage and how. Wake up, and you will create a life you love. Wake up and the world changes. I don't know about you, but I am committed to staying awake.

And there ends my simmering potpourri for today. Hope you didn't get singed - and if you did, then at least you know you are awake!

Still Life and Chicken Pox

It is now officially the seventh day since my son came home from school with chicken pox. In fact, exactly half of his class were similarly affected. Makes you wonder about what goes on in a collective of 5 year old that creates this. What I mean is what is it that lies below the generally accepted medical concepts of virulence and contagion? What link between mind and body exists that leads to the physical expression of chicken pox? Considered through the CODE Model(TM), chicken pox invite questions about fire, water and our connection to self and others. How interesting that it would have such a mass expression in children at an age coming to an awareness of who the world tells them they are.

One thing I know for sure is that this event has been a gift of spending extra time with my growing son. I've already noticed that he resists and refuses hugs and kisses while on school property .... and in general come to think of it! This hasn't been the case over the past week where hugs and kisses are a regular part of the day.

In the midst of upside down days and nights, where baths at 3 am are just as likely as baths at 3 pm and sleep comes in short snatches between Benedryl doses, I can feel a stillness in our family life. We are focused and pulling together. We appreciate laughs and go out of our way to be together doing simple things.

Patience seems to have expanded in the wake of the past few days. Case in point- I have been watching the same 30 minute recording of the Backyardigans for most of the day so far and I haven't yet pulled out any of my hair. I suppose I have reached a zen-like state in the midst of fatigue and my son's obvious contentment now that he is feeling better.

Gratitude is like that - it sneaks up on you and smacks you over the head. A week ago I would have been coming out of my skin with the boredom of repetition and would have held to our usual rule of no TV except between 7 and 8 pm. Spending a week with a child alternately listless and in a frenzy of maddening scratching has allowed me to see this with grateful eyes. Stillness where irritation would have once ruled.

I read Lori's blog posting from Friday Feb. 9th with interest. I, too struggle with many of the questions she asks. Yes, its a holographic universe and I am at the centre of my creations so how is it that I seem to be unable to create health for those around me? What is it in me that has invited the agonizing experience of watching my child in those moments of inconsolable discomfort?

I am willing to concede to all the medical help available to make him more comfortable, recognizing that there is a continuum between a therapy model of the world and an autopoietic one. And, I recognize that I can choose my responses from many positions along this continuum. Benedryl and breathing, Advil and Quantum TLC... not an either/or type of choice.

Seeing this time as a gift and an opportunity to connect to my son in new ways has provided me with a new perspective on gratitude and insight into who he is becoming. As usual, the more I relax into the process, the easier it becomes for both of us. Hologram, indeed. Now if only I could get the Backyardigans off my holodeck for a few minutes! Just kidding - I'm grateful:)

Joy Trumps Dread!

I had my first OB appointment yesterday. It was a mixed bag of absolute wonderment at the sound of the baby's heartbeat swishing with its own rhythm. A rhythm that is uniquely baby's even while its growing within my body! How miraculous is that?!

My joy was tempered with a sudden return of body image blahs as I listened to all the "rules" about how much weight I should be gaining. I recall with my last pregnancy, I finally made peace with my self-image demons for those nine glorious months. Although I grew to monumental proportions, within 3 months of my son's birth I was back to my pre-pregnancy weight. I was never svelte to begin with but I still felt pretty good about my return to "normal". Although the scale said the same number, I know that not much of my anatomy was where I left it!

This time around, I'm really struggling with the many external mirrors society holds up. Before becoming pregnant, I was already wrestling with some of these old thoughts and they seem to have compounded as the weeks tick by.

I'm not obsessively weighing myself or being anything other than mindful about my nutrition and yet, when I catch a glimpse of my already rounder face, burgeoning belly and expanding lower body, I feel a wave of shame and grief. Knowing what I know, I stay with it, breathing deeply and simply allowing the wave to move through me. I can't say that I have any deeper insights available as of yet and I know they are surely on their way.

Certainly, its about something much deeper than a number on a scale or a reflection in a mirror. It has much more to do with how willing I am to value myself for who I am rather than who an external source says I "should" be. I get it intellectually and its not worth anything until the sensations attached to it roll on through. I'm not willing to wait for the past to resolve itself before I allow myself to live. Life is too precious and short!

This is another choice point. I can choose to treat these OB check ups with a mixture of excitement and dread knowing that the price to pay for hearing the glorious sound of my child's heartbeat is a moment of dread on the scale and the possibility of a well-intentioned "discussion" about my weight; however, I don't want to continue this life-long pattern of balancing joy with price tag.

My choice is to truly trust my body and its impulses in spite of what the external experts have to say. This is a challenge for me as it requires me to rise above media images, long-held beliefs about my body as something that is shameful, betraying me with its size and the medical opinion of a physician who I know cares deeply but is fully indoctrinated in his field. Yup, another big breath is in order here!

One of the greatest lessons of this pregnancy has been to trust myself. Never have I been so in tune with my body's needs as I have been these past few months. I know exactly when to rest and what my body will accept or reject when it comes to meals with undeniable signals.

As I bring this entry to a close a startling thought appears on the horizon; the miracle of nurturing a new life should never come with power robbing self-doubt. I am unwilling to forget who I am in this process.

Dancing Around

Today is one of those days when I can feel myself dancing around the issue of writing. Its not that I don't want to do it or even that I don't have any ideas. I want to and ideas are tumbling over one another today looking for expression. No, I think it has more to do with my habitual creative anorexia than anything else.

I have become so used to withholding the things I enjoy that its not until I catch myself mid-dance that I notice I'm dancing at all! I continue to wonder about what a deep and unconscious drive this is. I'm quite certain it has its roots in early religious learning where somewhere I acquired a belief that I should put the things I enjoy last until every other 'worthwhile' and 'useful' chore was complete. Only then, if I still had some energy left, could I be rewarded.

Perhaps it is rooted in old strategies. As the eldest in the family, I had a tendency to make sure everyone and everything was alright before indulging what I wanted to do. I don't have a clear recollection of being told this or anything, I think I simply figured out that life went smoother for all of us if I was a "good girl" and good girls were helpful girls. Factor in being a parent now and it ups the ante even further.

I know that I could spend considerable amounts of time and energy trying to unearth the "why" behind this behavior. That is time and energy that I wouldn't get back. Trust me, I know - I've invested plenty of both over the years trying to "figure it out". And I've discovered that I'm sneakier than I thought! That is just another form of procrastination and withholding. Nope! - instead, I'm am just going to adjust my step and make the dance one that suits me. A dance that suits the "me" I can become and not the "me" I used to be.

Its quite a different beat, that's for sure. Its actually quite effortless when I slip below my self-imposed radar and find the space and freedom to just enjoy something I love. Writing is one of those things that comes easily to me once I outsmart my inner tyrant and just let loose on the page. In fact, because its easy it bumps into one of my long held beliefs that anything I consider to be my "work" should be very hard and involve a great deal of struggle and sacrifice. (Geez - aren't I a lot of fun to be around!)

Thankfully, the part of me that still remembers its original rhythm lives on. Better than that, I have discovered that if I let it lead, I learn all kinds of interesting new steps. Old habits can die hard so I've decided to take a moment to list a few of the steps that I know I use in order to dance around getting my creative fix ..... see if they sound familiar:

• Writing long, involved emails to friends, family and anyone else I can think of


• Re-reading my horoscope on multiple websites to check for congruency....you can never be too prepared!


• Reading everyone else's blogs and lamenting that all the "good ideas" are already taken


• Feed the fish.....again


• Feed the dog....again


• Feed me...again


• Finding myself cleaning the sludge out of the crisper drawers in the refrigerator


• Actively seeking out laundry


• Re-arranging the display on my fireplace mantle

And the list goes on! Essentially, it is either things that give me a small, measured dose of creativity or that are downright yucky and punitive. Quite the dance, huh? Any of the steps familiar?

One of my big ah-ha moments about my strategies around creativity came to me while I was reading a book by SARK called "Making Your Creative Dreams Come True". In it she makes the link between perfectionism and procrastination. Ding! Ding! A part of me came to life with that simple realization of how many ways the two were linked in my own life. After all, why start something if its not going to be right? My emphasis was on product not process. Not satisfying in the least! Life in general and specifically writing, became one long to-do list, filled with rules and restraints. I decided that I didn't want to be bound like that anymore.

Like so many things, I now realize that it is not one choice - forever. (That is certainly the perfectionist's way of approaching it, don't you agree!) It is a moment to moment choice about the quality of my life and how much enjoyment I can tolerate in one shot! Funny thing is, when my choice is to enjoy the process, the end product becomes one that I feel good about.

I'm still dancing, but differently now that I chose to follow my own beat. I'll be on alert for the next time I slip into my old, familiar routine - knowing I can choose to shake it up!

Monkey Brain

Last night I was afflicted with "Monkey Brain". You know, that state when your body hits exhaustion and your brain just keeps on chattering away, swinging wildly through a maze of vine-like thought tendrils but never coming to rest. Somewhere around 4 am I managed to punt the monkey to the ground and get some rest. Although somewhat low on energy today after a night of monkey chasing, I am also thrilled to see the signs of restless creativity returning after a hiatus stretching just beyond my first trimester of pregnancy.

I was reading my favorite blogs last night and a line from Louise's entry on Jan 31st really struck me between the eyes. I had to chuckle at her metaphor of 'trying to push the baby out before its ready' as she spoke of the flat times between creative projects. I noted that as my belly swells with my internal creation, all evidence of external creativity has been flattening out.

Grabbing onto the next vine of thought, I realized that both of my pregnancies have been radically different - and that they needed to be. I learned so much about myself when I was expecting my son. I discovered a depth of energy, strength, courage and determination that I never suspected I had. I believe I learned those lessons well enough that they didn't require repeating.

This time round, I have discovered that my fear of being judged as lazy and useless when not in constant motion has not proved to be the case. I can't recall any time in my life until now when I did not base my value as a person on what I was accomplishing or contributing. Its been a real challenge to simply allow myself to "be" and know that I can still value myself. This is a lesson long in the works, with many metaphoric bumps and bruises to my socially indoctrinated "self" (AKA "The Good Girl/Wife/Mom/Business Woman"). This is a discovery I feel is truly coming full circle at this point. Not surprisingly, now that I "get it", my energy and stamina are returning, along with a renewed sense of Self - the essence of who I really am.

And then on to the next tendril of thought that seems to be entangled in all of this.....after reading Lori's blog last night, the final vestiges of grief for friendships in my past was swept away. Having recently met Lori at a writer's retreat, I have stood in awe of who she has chosen to become in her life. I value her authenticity and willingness to be seen and heard. Real women, real lives- that is what I value in my female friends. There is no cat and mouse games, no pursuit, no seduction with oblique meanings and partially with held information. They are simply present, open and honest. Who they are is defined not by what they have achieved, but by the transparent and often convoluted process of how they get there.

There was a time not so long ago, when I decided that a friendship I had once valued, had lost that authenticity, in fact, in retrospect, it was largely smoke and mirrors from its onset, with me doing all the mining for connection. When I stopped digging, pursuing, and running the gaunlet of ever changing boundaries, the "friendship" fizzled out. For some reason, I have really been grieving it in waves ever since.

As I write this, I realize that my list of amazing female and male friends continues to grow in my awareness and the pangs of sadness for a friendship that has ended as I ceased the game of pursuit, loosens it grip further. I am grateful for it while it lasted. I wonder what else in my life continues to hold me in its thrall long after it has ceased to be useful; long after I thought I had made the choice to move away from it?

And then finally, there was Anne's blog. Reading Anne's thoughts inspired my own about the incredible strength to be found in vulnerability and innocence. Anne is another recent acquaintance from the Writer's Retreat, Whispers Within (see the WEL-Systems link for more info). There is a softness with incredible strength of presence in her person and her writing. Her voice on the page captivates me. She brings me home to that place inside me that is filled with wonderment. A place where I, too, can see with new eyes. A place where innocence is rediscovered with the benefit of wisdom to accompany it.

Thank goodness it is morning and my brain can leap around this one during daylight hours! A word of tongue-in-cheek caution, reading these inspiring blogs by Anne, Lori and Louise is best done well before bedtime if you hope to avoid the onset of inspiration and a night time does of monkey brain!