Free meditation download

We can't choose or control what happens in the economy, but we can make choices about how we choose to react to it.  We can decide whether we become paralyzed with fear, or choose instead to stay calm, clear and connected to our long term vision.

I taught yoga and meditation for many years, and often help my coaching and counseling clients create and sustain a daily meditation practice.  People tend to find that with daily practice, they can start by cultivating a sense of quiet that starts in that 10 minutes a day and spills over into the rest of their lives.  In my vernacular, this is where we start to connect with the Empty Space.  The Empty Space is where we have all the magic:  it is the source of our greatest ideas, our energy, and the strength and the vision that sustain us.  It is where we learn to embrace our most authentic self.  

Here's a short (7 minute) meditation to help you start a meditation practice and bring some quiet into your life.  The free download is at Empty Space Coaching.   Please feel free to email me if you have questions about how to get started.

How to Stay Calm (Even if Everyone Else is Freaking Out)

Most places I go, people are talking about the economy, and they're freaking out.  They're speculating on what will happen and how it will affect their lives.  It can all feel pretty scary, and the fear feels contagious.   Here are some tips to help you stay calm:

What's Worked for You in the Past?  Think about a time in the past when you faced difficulty.  If you're here, you survived.  Think of what helped you then.  How did you approach the difficulty and what strategies were helpful?  How did you shift the situation?  What calmed you?  What helped you feel better?  Was there any lesson there that you could use now?

Venting vs. Rehearsing

Many people think that "venting" helps them feel better-and sometimes it does.  Venting is when you have something that's been weighing you down, and you feel better when you share it with someone else who can sympathize or give you support or simply listen.  But when do you cross the line into "rehearsing"?   Rehearsing is when you tell the same story, over and over again, and each time, you experience the same anxiety or fear.  Here's a rule of thumb:  When it makes you feel relieved to talk about it, talk about it.  When you notice that you feel worse, stop.

Consider a media ban  I was having a great morning a few days ago, and then I opened yahoo and the headline was about the Dow Jones average plummeting-and suddenly I felt anxious, even though nothing had actually changed.  What we read and watch changes our perceptions and affects our emotions.  If watching the economic predictions on TV or the internet is affecting you emotionally, stop watching.  Spend that time playing with your dog or taking a walk or listening to a song you like.

Awareness  Pay attention to how your body feels when people are talking about the economy. If you notice tension or tightness, walk away from the conversation.  Do something pleasant, or simply sit and listen to your breath.  

Be a Flexible Tree  Here's a tip I give to clients constantly:  if you start to feel anxious, imagine you're a tree.  It sounds silly, but it works.  Imagine you're a tree, and you're rooted to the ground. Trees are strong.  When trees are brittle they snap in the wind, but when they're flexible and soft, they sway in the wind and always stay rooted.

Gratitude  Make a list, every day, of two or three things you are thankful for.   Focus on what you have, instead of what you don't have, or what might happen in the future.  Read this list if you start to panic.

You have this moment  If all else fails, you have this moment.  Sit quietly and think to yourself:  "right now, in this moment, I am ok."  Take a deep breath.  Listen to your breath.

It IS all going to be ok.  Trust yourself.  You are more creative and resourceful than you know.  No matter what, you're going to be ok.

Identity

(Originally posted 10/14/08)
One of the most thought-provoking-and jarring-aspects of learning to be a therapist was that I had to figure out who I was without all my old stories to identify me. Think about it: we reveal ourselves in conversation with strangers by slowly unpacking our stories. We use these stories to create the facade we show to others. We tell stories of who we are in the world (“I am so-and-so’s daughter”) or what we do (“I am a therapist”) or about the habits or hobbies that define us (“I am SO into chocolate”).

Imagine then, that you suddenly must be present with others without using stories to identify yourself? Stories have always been important to me-I was an English major in college, I love words, and I tend to see life as a narrative fraught with metaphor. I love my stories. My stories are my history. Who would I be without the stories of growing up in south Georgia, of the time I met the Argentinean soccer team, of all the pranks I have played, of the time I forced my sister to eat a “nature taco”(that’s a snail wrapped in a leaf)? My family thrives on stories: at every birthday, we tell the same stories of a person’s life. Over the years, those rituals have come to mean everything to me.

But therapists reveal little to their clients, in the way of personal disclosure. When I was a new therapist, I felt as though my entire identity had been completely stripped away from me. The instructions to therapists felt confusing to me: you are supposed to model authenticity, and congruity. You are supposed to be a real person. But don’t reveal ANYTHING about yourself.

Then the question became: who am I without my stories? It became a larger question for me. Who am I in the present moment, without all these layers I have chosen for myself? How can I be present with someone else, without referencing my stories about my past, or my accomplishments, or other people?

The interesting aspect of looking at it this way is that I have been challenged to use the wisdom, or the insight or the humor without the stories. In many ways, stripping away the stories actually forces me to use the products of my experiences and make them my own, to truly assimilate them rather than just rehearse the same version of them, and to stay fixed in the same place forever.

Think about it: how would your life change if you didn’t feel caught in the same stories about yourself and those around you? How would your primary relationships change if you saw everyone anew, as they are right now? What sense of freedom would you feel? And what kind of fear?

Happy Accidents (not of the procreating variety)

I took a printmaking class a few years ago, and I had a fabulous teacher. The class only lasted for three months, but this teacher (and this class) managed to change my thinking in many ways. Every time I bend over to wipe something that has fallen on the floor, I think of her saying “if you’re cleaning up your mess, clean up a little extra mess that you didn’t make. I do it, just because that’s the good kind of girl scout I am.” I don’t always actually FOLLOW the advice, but I always, always remember it.

Something non-mundane I learned in class, something that really has affected my way of being: the concept of happy accidents. “Happy accidents,” as defined by my teacher, are those great artistic discoveries that happen when you release some control of the process and allow yourself to be curious about what might happen. Being willing to be a beginner, to be open to trying new colors or ways of looking at the piece, of taking away your attachment to how the piece works out-these acts allow you the freedom to mess up-but also the possibility that you might discover something new: that you might fall in love with a new color you might have thought you hated, or that you find a new way of holding a tool that creates a totally different effect. Either way, you have to release the need to control every moment of the process in order to have happy accidents.

When I expand this metaphor to human life, I think about the space between control and openness. I believe that we need to have the ability to make choices in order to get to where we want to go. We need the structure of being able to say “no,” and the ability to look ahead and see where we want to be, and create steps to get there. It is incredibly beneficial to have some mastery over how we spend our time and energy and resources. I firmly believe in these skills. I teach these skills to clients every day, for I believe they are essential.

However, when the control becomes TOO tight, we lose the chance of happy accidents. The happy accidents can teach us who we are, and what our hidden strengths and talents are, and, especially, clue us into the unique lens through which we view the world. This lens is our gift. No one else views the world in exactly the same way that we do, and that is a good thing.

Seeking this balance between too little and too much control can be challenging at times. So here’s an exercise that can help. Take a sheet of paper and draw a line down the center. On one side, make a list of some areas that need more mastery (boundaries, limits, structure), leaving a blank line under each item. Under each item, write an action step that can be taken toward achieving more control. For example, “loose boundaries about time spent working outside of work” could have the action step of “turn phone completely off on Saturdays.” (The next week you could gradually add more hours).

The other side of the page is a really fun one. It’s the part of the list where you realize where you can have more fun and openness, and where you need to let go a little. You can list some areas of your life, leaving a blank line under each item. On each line, write an idea about how to create some space. For instance, “parenting,” could have “have regularly scheduled “do-nothing” time.” This could be time spent with your child in conversation, or creating art, or flying a kite, or learning to knit. “Work” could have “set aside time every couple of days to just sit and brainstorm with no interruptions.” During this time, you could let your imagination run wild. You might just come up with some really great ideas.

You might notice some fear come up for you during this exercise. If I had to guess, I would expect that it would probably happen during the part where you think about how to release some control in order to create open space. It seems to be a human tendency to fear the unknown. If that happens, just observe how you’re feeling, and mentally watch the resistance without judgement. And then let go anyway.

The Four Agreements

I read these if I'm having a difficult day or dealing with a difficult person (not that that ever happens, ha). I particularly love the second agreement. What are your thoughts?

The Four Agreements (from the book by the same name by Don Miguel Ruiz)

1. Be Impeccable With Your Word
Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love.

2. Don't Take Anything Personally
Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won't be the victim of needless suffering.

3. Don't Make Assumptions
Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness and drama. With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.

4. Always Do Your Best
Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse and regret

The Dreaded Facebook

(Originally posted on 9/4/08)
I did it-I joined facebook. Technically I joined facebook years ago as Lenora Lapore. Lenora liked to log on and look up other people without being contacted by them. I, on the other hand, like to protect my quiet and privacy. However, since I couldn’t really see many pages, I caved to the pressured from friends (and curiosity) and joined a few days ago.

Since then, I’ve been hit by a barrage of email and photos. Someone’s writing on my wall (what the hell does that mean?). Someone’s poking me. Someone added photos of some people I don’t know. Someone who knew a friend of mine in high school wants to be my friend. Some of it is incredibly fun, I have to admit. I’ve found lots of people whose presence in my life has been greatly missed. But this week, it has been incredibly difficult to guard my quiet. I haven’t played my guitar, my dog hasn’t gone swimming, and I am missing out on my favorite, most sacred days of the year. Early fall is the time I reawaken, reset. I’m lucky enough to live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world (one that, regrettably, experiences steady rain for 9 months of the year), and I’ve spent my free time for the past sunny two days inside, online. I’m missing the present, because I’m reconnecting with the past.

Here’s where facebook (or myspace or friendster) starts to go into treacherous waters. I have noticed myself caring or thinking about how my life would look to other people, something I haven’t thought about in years. What will they think of my pictures? What should I write about my experiences? Will people from all these different moments in my life understand the me I am today? I have watched these thoughts for two days. I have resisted the urge to treat my facebook page as a PR release, but these thoughts bother me.

Carl Rogers, the beloved (by me) humanistic psychologist, talked about the human tendency to chase approval. Some of us seek societal sanction (such as wealth or fame), some of us seek it on an individual level (we just want people to like us). While none of this seeking is necessarily bad in and of itself, we can become so hooked on the praise, the fame, the money that we lose connection with who we are and what our needs are. We start to see ourselves through the eyes of others, instead of through the eyes of our own experience. To paraphrase (very loosely) the Tao te Ching, if you run after money or praise, your heart will never unclench. When you realize you have everything you need, the world is yours.

Miguel Ruiz talks about this in his book, The Four Agreements (I’ve read the first two agreements so many times that I never got to three and four). The second agreement is this: never, ever take anything personally. Whether someone likes or dislikes you is based on whether their perceptions of the world and reality coincide with yours. Either way, you are their prisoner. If you get hooked on their praise, you are placing yourself on a pedestal, and you can always be taken down from that pedestal by someone else. If you base your view of yourself on their criticism, you are taking in someone else’s poison.

Sometimes clients tell me about a situation in their lives, and they tell me what everyone else thinks about it. “My husband wouldn’t like it if I did this, and my mother would be upset, and people at work would talk about me,” and on and on. I listen, and then I say, “but how do YOU feel about it?” Sometimes a long silence follows the question. Sometimes they don’t know, because they’ve been viewing the situation through everyone else’s eyes, and haven’t even checked in to see how they feel. I’ll be honest enough here to admit there have been times when I have worked myself into knots wondering why someone doesn’t like me, or thinking about what I must have done to offend them or wondering how I can repair the situation-when I haven’t even stopped to consider whether I actually LIKE the person, or whether their presence or energy is positive in my life or whether I even want to interact with them.

Now, this morning, I’m thirsty for some quiet. I’m checking out of facebook for a couple of days. I’m sitting in Bean Around the World, just like every morning. I’m drinking my coffee (Bean size medium roast), and enjoying the sunshine. I’ve just noticed the tree across the street-the color is so striking against the blue of the building (you can check it out on the photo). I’m going to walk home and sit outside in my courtyard with my dog, and maybe play some Lucinda Williams songs on my guitar. No one will be there to hear it except me (and Maradog) and that is a-ok with me.

Mating in Captivity, pt. 1

I'm reading the fabulous book "Mating In Captivity:  Unlocking Erotic Intelligence" by Esther Perel, who is a couples therapist in NYC.  I like this book because I love her approach.  This is a not a how-to guide for successful relationships (at least, it's not yet-I'm only three chapters in).  It's about how we have two major drives:  one is for the unknown, and one is for stability.  When we first get into a relationship with another person, we are exhilarated by all their thrilling, mysterious qualities.  Every gesture is compelling, every movement gives us another little hint into their being.

So what do we want to do with all this newness?  We want to be sure that it is ours, fully and completely.  We wish to domesticate it, to fuse completely with the other.  We want to know every secret so that there are no surprises.  And once we've figured it all out, what do we want to do with all this newfound knowledge?  Does it compel us to feel more intimate?  Of course not-this causes us to be bored.

I made the mistake of starting this book on the same day I saw "Vicky! Christina!  Barcelona!" (wouldn't recommend pairing the two activities-I felt a bit bleak about love that day-but I kept reading and felt better).  Perel says that we try to bridge the fusion with others as a way of dealing with our own discomfort at being alone or separate.  If we can learn to exist with our anxiety without the need to rush toward another, we can actually continue to keep the erotic and intimate connection in relationship because we can see the other person as a separate being, still full of mystery.

I've often had this conversation with friends who say that it is easiest to be either completely enmeshed with another-or completely uncaring.  What seems most difficult is the attempt to be fully engaged without losing oneself.  This applies to all our relationships (romantic and non) with people in our lives-allowing ourselves to coexist with others while resisting the urge to completely traverse the space between us.  

In "Before Sunset,"  the Julie Delphy character says that God is witnessed in the space between two people, in our attempts to understand one another.  I love the idea that by resisting the urge to feel that space, we actually have the space to see others (and ourselves) anew.

Here's my question to you:  how do you regard the space between you and others?  Do you rush to fill it?  Or are you so far away from others that the distance is too far to traverse?

Why would you call a blog "Empty Space?"

Welcome to my blog, empty space.  It seems like a strange title for something that will be...you know...full.  But I've been preoccupied for quite some time with this concept.  See I have this idea that nearly everything that we do in excess in our society-eating, drinking, watching t.v., shopping-is about getting way from the empty space.  

It seems like an abstract concept, but you know exactly what I mean.  When I say this to clients, they know what I mean.  Empty space is what we fear most.  It is the space where nothing is happening, nothing is there to protect us from ourselves.  The interesting thing is that is actually where the magic starts to happen.  I am convinced that every original idea I've ever had emerges in the moments when I stop fighting and quit thinking so much.

Here's what I've observed as a therapist and as a personal coach.  People are really, really, really scared about what might happen if they look deeply into themselves.  They are scared as hell that they are going to open Pandora's box.  They will do everything they can to avoid it.  A rare few seek it out deliberately, but more often we are thrust into it by circumstance:  the end of a job, the end of a relationship, a growing sense of discontent or physical pain that cannot be ignored.  We have no choice but to jump into the abyss, with nothing to guide us.

But there's good news about all of this.  This space is the beginning.  Once we stop fearing ourselves, we get to really start living.  Once we can look into ourselves and say, ok, there's a lot of stuff there, and some of it I don't like, but dammit, it's me!  (Or, in the more eloquent words of Walt Whitman, do I contradict myself?  Well then, I do, for I am vast and contain multitudes!)-we can stop using all our energy to fight ourselves.  We can stop being so neurotic and start transforming that energy into creativity, vision and joy.

I invite you to join me in this journey-I will share some observations and insights as a coach/therapist and human--as well as some helpful tools.