Loving Me Loving You

Loving Me Loving You

“I am a realist, not a pessimist,” says a woman I know. She likes to talk about how awful the world is, how horrible people are, how rotten are her co-workers, and how crappy she feels all the time. Poor little lamb. The world she lives in is dark and terrifying with awful people doing awful things to each other. She is exhausted and sick a lot of the time.

I used to live there. I used to believed that people, all people, were awful to each other. I believed the news media. Do I need to say that I was terrified all the time? I felt responsible for suffering all over the world, and doubly guilty because what was I doing to help them? So I was terrified, but also uber-stressed and depressed. Imagine that.

Why do I like people? What makes me notice the good in others? How do I value your presence?

I had this idea that paying a lot of attention to the news was the responsible, adult thing to do. War, pestilence, murder, rape, greed, fire, famine --. Oh, la! Dose me up with misery in the papers, on the radio and tv. It justified my unhappiness. It justified my guilt. It justified my pain. It justified my sense of helplessness.I made friends with people who were as miserable as I. We could spend days telling each other how miserable we were. We did, actually. And it somehow absolved me of taking responsibility for my own well-being. Clearly, if there were so much misery in the world, it stood to reason that I would be miserable.

As I have grown up, I have come to realize that the media doesn’t monger news, they monger fear. And every time I shared bad news, every time I promoted the awful things that happened, I was mongering fear, too. I have come to realize that I am the only one responsible for my well-being. And I am not responsible for yours. I am responsible to you, and endeavor to create safe space for us all to thrive and grow. And I apologize to you for all the horrible things I told you about in the dark ages.

As I have grown up, I have come to realize that people are doing their best, For most of us, we are doing our best to be kind, good, and loving. What we have are issues, topics, mis-learnings and these dictate our behavior. In relatively normal situations, these are pretty mild, annoying perhaps, but not damaging. As the topics get bigger, the behavior gets worse; substance abuse, addictive behaviors, violence, and so on. When the topics get really big, at least inside the person, the behavior gets worse. You know what I mean.

And, as one of my dear friends says, “I am not my behavior.” Remembering this gives us an entree into compassion, and we may need to find that way in for ourselves as well as for others.

In fact, our attitude to others is often our attitude to ourselves. If I see the world as a terrifying place, chances are good that I don’t feel very safe inside me. If I see the world as full of bad people, I may be feeling like a bad person deep inside. It might even be unconscious. And if I see the world as full of kind and loving people doing what they can to make the world nicer, I most likely have a life full of kind and loving people who are doing what they can.
I prefer to live in a world of love. I prefer to look for the good in people, and I avoid the regular media’s take on things. I seek out good news about good works, powerful discoveries that help, individual kindnesses, gracious gestures. My favorite from yesterday was a restaurant owner who posted a notice that invited the person who was eating from her Dumpster to come in for a meal.

How have I changed from wallowing in the worst of humanity to reveling in our goodness?

(c) Pam Guthrie 2015 all rights reserved 04122015

Trashing the Zingers

Trashing the Zingers

A talent I have developed over the years that has made my life a lot nicer is the ability to keep my mouth shut.

That may sound weird coming from someone who loves to talk, but I used to say a lot of stuff I regretted. I learned as a young one to use sarcasm as a weapon and could flay meat with my words. If I could come up with something nasty and clever, out the words came, outcome be damned.

Teaching me to hold my tongue took a long time, but I really wanted it. My overarching goal was to be happy, and that meant that I had to stop seeking out your weaknesses and soft spots and going for them.

Why am I positive? What makes me choose? Why am I kind?

In the olden days I spent a lot of time with people who valued my nasty humor, and praised me for it, at least when I used it on other people. I was so used to the spew that I often wasn’t even aware that I did it. So I had to learn to hear what I said, and then I had to learn to hear what I was gonna say. And then I had to learn to shut it.

Why am I aware? How do I know I matter? What makes me decide?

One of the reasons it was so easy for me to just say rotten stuff was that I didn’t think it counted for anything. I didn’t have any sense of having an impact on you. I apologize for that.

As I came to see that I did have an impact, not just on the people I spent a lot of time with, but also on the people I might have one moment of contact with, and was able to remember fast enough that I wanted to feel good about me at the end of the day, I began to practice being quiet instead of sniping. I would spend a moment thinking about the customer service person being on my side instead of being the representative of Evil Incarnate when I had a problem that required their help. I started thinking about how you might be acting out a bit because you had something challenging going on that I knew nothing about, and would hold back my mean cracks.

How am I compassionate? Why do I care? Why do I like people?

As I gave up that habit, and replaced it with nice stuff, something wonderful started to happen. I began to receive nice surprises. Things would go my way. The customer service person would go out of her way to help me, sometimes even giving me a special treat, “I don’t usually do this for people, but...” Strangers would smile at me. Not creepy strangers, nice strangers. I found myself blurting out compliments to random people, and getting smiles back. I found myself asking how you were and wanting to hear the real answer. And you would often do the same for me.

Choosing to be positive meant that I had to give up some stuff. I don’t tend to make sacrifices, rather I weigh my options, remember what I want, and choose what seems like it will take me in that direction. Giving up my rapier wit was a process, and I still have to confront it from time to time, but, like so much of what I talk about here, it was worth it.

How have I changed from pride in my snide to choosing to be kind?

(c) Pam Guthrie 2014 all rights reserved 08072014

Reflections on People

Reflections on People

One of the most wonderful things about this way I choose to live is how my opinion and feelings about people has changed. You guys are nothing at all like I used to think.

Why do I like people? How do I get along? What makes me see the good?

In the dark ages, I thought people were pretty much out for themselves, others be damned. Wrong-o. I thought people were basically cold, hard to get to know, full of deceit, and kind of dangerous. I thought that there were a few good people, but they were the exception. More wrong-o. Turned out, I was projecting me onto you. Ick. Sorry about that.

Turns out, I was projecting me onto you.

I didn’t dare tell you the truth about me because I knew you would hate me if I told you. Projecting. I didn’t dare show you me, so I lied a lot about stuff, I hid my feelings, I pretended to be someone I wasn’t. Not sure I was dangerous, but I sure was off.

What makes me compassionate? How to I connect? What makes me engage?

The way I feel about me is often the way I feel about you. So when I didn’t like me, well, you can see where this is headed.

It’s a curious thing, so much of whether we like or dislike ourselves is based on our attitude, not on facts.

We all pretty much want to live a nice life. Some of us have opened to the universe of resources available to us to help us get there. Some of us have opened our hearts in compassion for what we’ve been through without going to self-pity. Some of us have owned all the effort we have put into living a life we feel good about. Awesome.

We all have stuff and things that we’ve been through and made it to the other side. We have things we’ve done we may not feel proud of, maybe even ashamed. We all have things we wish we could have a do-over on. Everyone does. Because we are grownups, we choose to forgive ourselves for our screw-ups, and make amends where we can. Because we are grownups, we choose to view our former selves with gentle compassion. We’ve identified things about who we are, how we operate that we like, even admire in ourselves. We do something about the things we don’t like.

The amazing magic that happens is, as we do those things, we start to like ourselves. We recognize our own value, our own contributions. And then we find that we can do it with other people, too. We forgive them, especially our childhood adults who, for whatever reasons, messed up with us.

Why do I forgive? How do I open my heart? What makes me care?

As I choose to like me, and choose to like you, more amazing stuff happens. I see the good in you. I can find ways to feel compassion and respect for you, and my world transforms from a sad, dark place, to a place of connection, of mutual compassion, and joy.

How have I changed from hating me and you to feeling compassion and love for our human-ness?

(c) Pam Guthrie 2014 all rights reserved 06202014

Changing the Past

Changing the Past

A two-card draw today, on the same theme, curiously. Why am I positive? and Why am I a winner? What a nice set of questions.

How are you doing with changing the way you talk to yourself? Are you still yammering at you about being a loser, listing all your faults, criticizing your own efforts and results, acting like the way things are is somehow not the way they should be?

What would it mean to you to understand that the present moment is perfect? That you, in this present moment, are perfect? Would that help inspire you to speak to yourself with more kindness, more respect?

I would love to do that for you, show you so you really get it, your good qualities, your skills and talents, the wonderful things that make you, you, and take out all that negative self talk, but I can’t. No one else can, only you.

What do you need to start noticing how you speak to yourself? Why would you treat you with kindness and respect? What would make you own your power, feel competent and capable? We can do this anytime. We don’t need to be old, we can change to this way of thinking no matter how old we are. And as we feel more empowered, we find compassion for our former self, and for our loved ones who may have helped us learn to be so cruel to ourselves.

Have you ever paid attention to what you find most comforting? Me, I have two particular gestures that really help me when I need comfort. But I will also tell you a secret I use to help me change stuff.

We all have particular times in our lives that we remember as hard, painful, and scary, like maybe we weren’t somehow going to make it through. I have resources and wisdom and skills now I didn’t have then.

When those times pop into my head, I have started “going back in time,” and I sit with that savaged former self, and I comfort her in the best ways I know we like, and I let her know it will be okay, and then it will be good, and then it will be great. Poor little thing often can barely take in what I’m saying, but she gets the comfort, and the soothing words, and something deep inside both of us changes; my current self for treating me with deep compassion, and my former self for getting exactly what I needed at the time. It may not change the past out there, but it does seem to change my internal experience.

Feeling compassion for our former selves is powerful. Forgiving our former selves is powerful. Comforting our former selves is powerful. It helps us release shame, and fear, and all sorts of icky stuff.

And, then, practicing our positive Creative Questions, changing how we talk to ourselves, appreciating our value, will do a lot to cleaning out our emotional basements.

I find it gets way easier when I remember that I am, we all are, perfect divine and infinite beings at our core. Speaking to our own selves with compassion, gentleness, and loving kindness will go a long way to helping us live our natural lives.

How have I changed from dissing myself to death to treating me with love and respect?

(c) Pam Guthrie 2014 all rights reserved 05102014

Forgive Me, Again

Forgive Me, Again

One of the greatest blessings of being a grownup is feeling free. Free from resentments, free from fretting, free from being stuck in a bad mood. Free from a whole lotta stuff.

As I take responsibility for my stuff, I have the power to change things. Sometimes I can’t seem to  change the outside aspect, but I can always change my inside aspect. One of the things I have the power to do is forgive.

A curious thing about forgiveness; in some cases, I can do it all at once, and it’s done. In other cases, I may have to forgive again and again before I can really let it go. I know I’ve succeeded when the memory of the situation doesn’t fire up a lot of emotion.

I was surprised yesterday to find that I still had some stuff that I needed to forgive, for at least the third time.

In order to forgive, I have to do some stuff.

I need to remember that I am not ‘justified’ in  feeling resentment, or anger, or hurt, that those are feelings that eat me up. I need to remember that my natural state is soul-happy, and when I am feeling resentment, or anger,or hurt, for example, I am off-path.

Why do I choose to be free? Why am I happy? What makes me feel uplifted?

I need to remember that compassion serves me and resentment consumes me.

How am I compassionate? Why am I a caring person? What makes me let go?

I need to remember that we all make the best decisions we can make at the time, and that my hating on you for your decision only really hurts me. Unless I think revenge is a good idea, and it never is.

I need to remember that we are all at different points in our growing up, and while I am more grown up than some people, there are also some people more grown up than I. I want to emulate those grownupper grownups, and model good behavior for the others.

I need to remember that I also deserve forgiveness, and might wanna do that from time to time if I find me riding myself about stuff, or feeling crappy and spewing it, or whatever the case might be.

Sometimes, I can find a silver lining in a situation. Not always, but it sure pays to look. Sometimes, that silver lining may be that I learn something about me, or maybe about you. Sometimes, I may learn that you might not be someone whom I can consider trustworthy. Knowing that, I will stop trying to change you and getting hurt, and can accept you as you are, something we really do want to do with everyone.

It will always help when I can accept the how-it-is of a situation, rather than thinking it should be some other way. Once I do that, I am back in a place of my personal strength and power. And I can forgive again.

How have I changed from harboring hurts and resentments to enjoying the freedom of forgiveness?

(c) Pam Guthrie 2014 all rights reserved 04142014

Perfect, Schmerfect

Perfect, Schmerfect

Good enough. Words I have come to love. In the yorely days, good enough never was. Being a perfectionist sucks. Well, at least it sucked for me.

There is a huge difference between doing my best and doing it perfectly. When I strive to do my best, I feel satisfied and content with my efforts, and I am relaxed. When I try to do it perfectly, I am frustrated and tense, and may find myself reworking and reworking and never actually getting my project done.

I also found, for me, mind you, that the older I got, the more my perfectionistic tendencies got in my way. In fact, sometimes I would actually be stymied into inaction. Yikes. It turned out a lot of my old procrastination was based on an unconscious fear that I couldn’t or wouldn’t, do X perfectly, so I couldn’t even get started, and would withdraw into time-wasting behaviors. Oy, did I hate that. Especially since I was just baffled as to what was going on.

How do I know good enough is good enough?  

Of course, one of the things I did think was that somehow my divine perfection was tied into my being able to do stuff perfectly. It meant that because I made mistakes, I was inherently flawed. If I were inherently flawed, with no hope of change, what was the point of even trying? Depressing.

How do I see my divine perfection? What makes me good enough?

It seemed to me that I was surrounded by people who were better than I, people who never made mistakes, who recognized my flawed nature, and looked down on me for it.

Oy. What makes me compassionate?

As I let go of my perfectionism, I started to see how much those people who had been looking down on me were suffering, trying to hide their mistakes by drawing attention to me, or anywhere except on them.

As I let go of my perfectionism, I started to see how much leeway we have in how we accomplish stuff. I used to think there was one right way to do things, and either I knew it, and was somehow better than some people for it, or I didn’t, and was therefore, less than.

Oy. Why am I flexible?

The perfectionist thing is all about negative emotional judgments, judgments that hurt both the people we make them about, and hurt us because we stay stuck in the I’m better/less than X.

Exercising our judgment is a good thing. We can make decisions about behavior and consequences, but when it starts slipping into our thoughts about people, we need to take a step back. Often, when we want to make negative emotional judgments about people, we’ve got some topic up that is bringing up feelings of not good enough for us. When we can identify those topics, and address and integrate them, we will go back to feeling fine.

How do I know I am okay? Why do I feel safe? How do I trust the Universe?

(c) Pam Guthrie 2014 all rights reserved 01112014

From Apathy to Sympathy

From Apathy to Sympathy

Meh.

Who cares?

I would hazard a guess that we all get here from time to time, for a thousand different reasons.

Perhaps I’ve agreed to do too much, ala Martyr Me, and so I’ve used up my caring. Perhaps I have been choosing the blues, and so my caring is all plugged up with apathy. Perhaps I am using all my care up on my own self, my problems, my victimhood, my disappointments.

Not caring isn’t a fun place. Apathy is kind of bleak. It’s also a wonderful indication that we’ve gotten off track somehow.

I’m not talking about caring about specific stuff, mind you. There are lots of things in the world I will most likely never care about. We all have those things. It’s a marvelous use of our judgment.

I am talking about that general kind of malaise that sets in, not quite depression, just, well, meh.

Why do I care? How do I know that it matters? What make me make a difference?

When I am feeling meh, I can often flip it around by helping someone else. This technique is really useful for busting up a pity party. In fact, it’s a cornerstone of 12-step groups, helping a new person find their way.

It is sometimes really useful to be around others who have more topics up than we do. (And I will own that when I was deep into my own pity-party, knowing others had it worse than I just pissed me off big time.)

When we relax into our natural lives, caring about each other comes naturally. Compassion is a fundamental component of our perfect selves, and when we let ourselves soften into our core, it is just how we are, it’s just what we do. We choose the places that matter the most to us, and we give of our time, our energy, our resources as a matter of course.

When we relax into our natural lives, we seek solutions rather than worrying our troubles to death. When we relax into our natural live, we are aware of life-enhancing resources and pay attention to those, we are aware of the members of our communities who can help each other, support each other.

When we relax into our natural lives, we see possibilities. We come up with creative ideas to help us all, we enjoy being present for each other, to lend a hand, an ear, or a raft of ideas.

And, weirdly, caring, and then helping, often generates feeling of gratitude for being able to be of service to others. And isn’t that nice!

How have I changed from apathy to making a difference?

(c) Pam Guthrie 2013 all rights reserved 09162013

The Friend in the Mirror

The Friend in the Mirror

Have you met my dear friend? She’s cool; smart, kind, generous, fun to hang around with. She’s got good ideas about stuff, too. I like how she takes care of herself, and her family, and communities, and her pets, I like how dedicated she is to the stuff she believes in. And I like that she treats me with respect and kindness, and goofiness.

I met her in the mirror.

Go look in the mirror your own self, I bet you could meet a wonderful friend there, too.

What a great place to practice being lovely with ourselves, in the mirror. So often, the way we talk to ourselves is full of negativity. We criticise, we nag, we scold. Imagine how we would feel if that friend in the mirror smiled at us, told us how good we look, wished us a nice day.

How do I feel when I am kind to myself?

When I treat myself kindly, I feel better. I feel loved, but there are other things, too. When I am kind to myself, I take good care of me. I feed me better, I move me around, like a nice walk, or some good stretches, maybe play with my hand weights, or dancing, because I know how much I love to dance. I show me lovely things, I dress me nicely. You see what I mean.

How do I feel when I treat me with respect?

When I am respectful to myself, I acknowledge my feelings, but don’t need to splash them around, because I’ve experienced them. It means I have way less apologizing to do.  When I am respectful to myself, I say “yes” better. When I am respectful to myself, I can decide what I will do, what makes the best use of my time for me and my family, and my other commitments. When I am respectful to myself, I know my limits.

How do I feel when I enjoy my own company?

When I enjoy my own company, I know what I like. I have opinions about things. I have taken the time to decide what I want, and I know that my goals are worth pursuing. When I enjoy my own company, I find value in spending some time by myself to meditate, or contemplate, to get to know me, to consider my world-view and to decide what I want to change.

How do I feel when I take care of me?

When I take care of me, I am aware of me. I am aware of my thoughts and feelings, I am aware of my body moving through my day and my space. I am aware of where I put my keys, wallet, and cell phone. I am aware of what I’m saying. I notice when I start to feel bad, and take measures to address it to bring me back. By taking care of me, I end up feeling good more and more of the time.

How do I feel when I am my best friend?

When I am my best friend, I trust me. I know I act in my best interests, with love and kindness. I will say “no” or “just do it now” or “choose something that makes you feel good” instead of encouraging me to squander my well being for a moment of gratification.

I will tell me things I might rather not hear, I will help me grow, and mature. I will help me deepen my other relationships,

Well, what a nice friend!

How have I changed from barely knowing the face in the mirror to loving it with all my hear?

(c) Pam Guthrie 2013 all rights reserved 09022113

Comfy Cozy

Comfy Cozy

Comfort. A cozy blanket, a cool cloth, hot soup, ginger ale, toast and tea, soothing music, and easy read, a snoozy pet. What comforts you?

We are such a go go go group, aren’t we. We race through our mornings, rush off to school or work, or our morning house tasks. We zip through our lunches, or skip them altogether, race home, wolf something down (no disrespect meant to the wolves) on our way to whatever, come home, stay up too late doing more stuff, and fall into bed exhausted.

GAH!!

Comfort. A supportive meditation cushion, a gentle breeze, a loving ear to talk to, an inspirational volume, cookies and milk, a beloved toy, a hand to hold, a good stretch, a pleasing fragrance, a crackling fire.

As we flow through our lives, comfort comes up as a topic from time to time. Sometimes, we need comfort, sometimes, our loved ones need comfort. Because these topics arise from time to time, it’s useful for us to know what comforts us so we can ask for the comforts that suit us the best.

It’s also useful for the times when our loved ones need comfort, and may not know what will give them some ease.

The more we can find ways to slow down inside, the easier things get, and isn’t easy a great comfort all by itself. Meditation is one way to slow down. Slowing down our breath consciously is another way. Relaxing our muscles is another, starting with the easy ones. Why would it be easy?

As I was learning how to slow down and my mind would be racing, I would go for a walk and chant inside my head, “Ruminate and cogitate” over and over. It stopped me thinking about “my problems” and how “messed up” I was. It also amused me to say the words that I had been doing as a way to stop doing them. Why do I choose to slow down? How do I slow down? What makes me relax?

We all have stuff. I decided a long time ago not to have problems anymore. Now I have stuff, or topics, or issues, or lessons. What a difference that little change in language made. What can I do about my stuff right now? Something? Do it. Nothing, let it go, and change the subject. One way to stop worrying about my stuff is to help you.

How do you comfort others? What makes you feel charitable? How do you show your compassion?

Offering comfort to another person, or people, is one of the many ways we feel connected to each other, one way we strengthen our sense of community. When you and I become we, we become stronger, and often happier. When we let go enough to give and receive comfort, stuff in general gets nicer.

How have I changed from being preoccupied with my crap to reaching out a comforting hand?

(c) Pam Guthrie 2013 all rights reserved 08272013