Tag: energy

Killing My Self

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I follow this badass, super-connected, multi-dimensional being on Instagram. I would say it was totally by accident, but… you know, there are no accidents. Anyway, she does these intense videos – of just her talking – that I am powerless to turn away from.

One of these videos popped up recently and I watched it more than once (it’s not important how many times) because her primary concept kept picking at a loose thread in my subconscious mind and I knew I had to unravel it.

She was talking about the new moon energy and how a lot of death was happening. Metaphorical death, the death of beliefs that were no longer useful, ideas of the ego that no longer held sway over emotions, aspects of the personality that were a waste of time and energy. Old grids on which our beliefs were built are disintegrating to make room for new light and new growth, and this thought came to me: I have to kill my “self.” I have to help the Allison that has been trying to protect and control and guide me away from things that may harm me or just make me sad – for about forty years – and toward false identification with the body and thoughts – deep breath – die.

The ego. I’m talking about having a serious sit down with the part of my personality that thinks it is helping me by steering me away from edges and sharp objects. By protecting me from growth.

This now feels like the only way to move forward untethered to the past. There was a certain clarity that came while she was talking, this vision of peeling back many veils, layers and layers of opinions and dusty old truths, that have been dulling my shine, obscuring – like Vaseline on glass – the power of my true “Self” with a capital S. There is a light that has been covered in the soot and grime of good intentions and procrastination and it’s time for it to shine.

I don’t know what this means yet. I just know that all the things I have been doing this year so far, the action I have been taking, is starving the beast and concocting the perfect elixir to reveal whatever is lying beneath.

I have to let her go, this outdated version of Allison. There are some insidious patterns there that whisper of not being enough, or loveable or some such nonsense. Because we all have this secret shame. And just so you know, it’s bullshit. No one is responsible for loving you, but you. No one else is allowed to tell you if you are enough or not. And just to reiterate, you are enough, you are lovable and I’m pretty sure you’re a secret badass too.

I imagine there will be a bit of psychological warfare involved, the ego is tenacious in holding onto its life. And truly, it is necessary – the ego that is – it just needs to be educated, controlled, handed a lollipop and sent to the corner for a while.

While killing aspects of Allison may seem harsh and possibly not even doable, it feels like a healthy portion needs to be excised nonetheless. Perhaps I can deny it attention, overcome its objections and dismantle its reassurances that its necessary for my very survival. Perhaps.

I’m interested in what’s on the other side, but more than that I think I’m interested in the process. Allowing absolute truth (yet to be revealed, stay tuned) to lift the hems of the veils and carry them away one by one. Dissolving back to wherever it was they once came.

Giving Up

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I am in danger of letting it all go. Taking a giant energetic eraser and wiping my stuff slate clean.  Instead of a POD, a dumpster. I’m going to put all the pretty breakable things I own on the kitchen counter and let Kitty Andersen have her way with them. I’m over it.

I am in danger of quitting. Holding on to what’s left, petting it, apologizing to it for casting out its friends. I’m itching to skulk around antique and thrift shops looking for something I didn’t know I needed then squeezing it in between other items without meaning.

I am in the process of purging.

Everything is energy and everything has energy – a bit of magic formed of memories and wishes. A rock collected from the Long Island Sound. Or was it the banks of the Ganges. Maybe someone gave it to me. A tiny Buddha living among others of its kind on an altar with things that, when held individually, seem to lose most of their meaning and charm. Where did he come from?

If I don’t know where they came from how can they have meaning?

It is this energy or connection I am becoming very sensitive to. It was most telling when I was moving my altar items to a box for safe keeping whilst I hurricaned about the place. I considered every piece of preciousness and of the 253,876 items, maybe 10 elicited a knowing smile. The rest more of an exasperated sigh at my ridiculous assignment of meaning to every rock and every feather I have ever found. (More on altars later.)

I am both burdened by this stuff and buoyed by it. It brings me joy and sometimes peace and it frustrates the hell out of me.

I can tell you that being able to take my time with my stuff has been mostly a positive experience and I’m grateful to be able to do this my way. It gives me great pleasure to hand over items that have meaning to me to others that can find new life for them. But I am doing this without attachment or condition. If I personally hand a book to someone it is always with the permission to “feel free to regift, recycle or do whatever you’d like with it.”

I am, of course, holding on to some very precious things, but I am trying to make those items the exception. And I’m even questioning those things.

Because Larry and I have a few antique spaces between us I am afforded the luxury of cycling some items through and possibly recouping my initial investment or even making an extra buck or two. An old radio flyer wagon, for instance,  with peeling red paint that sits atop my (almost empty) TV cabinet. I like the addition of color and the stories of the children it must have held. One day I’ll tire of it and pass it along. Sell to someone who can make up their own narratives.

Currently my house is once again in turmoil, this seems to be the cycle. Pull everything out from its hiding place, paw through it, roll eyes, sort, toss, pile, purge. Then do it all over again. Until there are just no more hiding places. From my perch on the sofa I spy:

  • 2 boxes of CDs waiting to be delivered to new homes
  • 6 stacks of CDs yet to be sorted through (down from about a million)
  • 3 stacks of magazines (one with paint color ideas, one to be given away to a friend  and one yet to go through – a short stack)
  • 1 looming stack of books to be priced and sold
  • 3 stacks of books to go to the studio for adoption
  • 4 empty boxes waiting to be filled for Good Will (at least 50 boxes have been transported so far)

But all these piles, while causing momentary shortness of breath and heart palpitations, can be moved into their proper places – outside my home – by end of day tomorrow and I can vacuum and dust and space clear and do a happy dance until the next time.

The goal again, for me, is to whittle all of my possessions down to just what I can see, just what I love or has beautiful inspirational meaning or what is useful. And not to restart the cycle of collection and purging. But it’s in stages and steps. (More on my process coming soon.)

For now, stuff is moving out, space is being revealed. The math is working.

Space Clearing

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At the risk of outing myself as some sort of woo woo shaman witch psychic nut job, I’d like to talk about clearing space.

I know it may seem as if that is all I talk about in the physical sense. Removing items from my home I no longer need, encouraging you to do the same and reveling in the newly created open space.

But this is space clearing of a different kind, although it walks hand-in-hand with the removal of objects.

The space clearing I’m referring to here is energetic.

I know you sort of believe me. I know you’ve been in a room in a house that felt stuffy or thick or off. You’ve walked into a space that felt tense or one that felt open and airy. You’ve been in a space completely devoid of people yet you either want to stay or you can’t get out of there fast enough. Why?

Right now so much of my home is stuffed with the energy of memories and history. Photos, books, papers, crafting supplies, linens and memorabilia have been gone through and organized.

Yet there is still much to be done. And the shadow of all those things lingers behind.

 

 

Most recently I culled through decades of photos, some over a century old. I discarded many and have plans for the rest, but I have much more to go through before I can allow myself the luxury of playing, so I have sorted them by decade in envelopes and stored them neatly away in the hutch in my beloved guest room. Alongside the photos live old newspaper clippings, horrible artwork, a blanket that was loved too hard and some deteriorating military felt.

I have completely (re)organized my guest room. The napping room. My favorite room in the whole house. (Perhaps I’ve mentioned it before?)

Only now the air is a little heavy with all those memories and history.

Here’s where the space clearing comes in.

For years I studied Feng Shui (more new age voodoo) and the focus of this tradition is energy. Move your stuff, change your life (actually the title of a really great book as well as a truism). Energy collects in corners, under furniture and appliances. It hovers near the ceiling or behind beds and dressers; things pushed up against walls. It can be stuck anywhere.

Its removal and dispersement does not have to take on some sort of mystical ritual, but it can. And maybe it should. For me, simply vacuuming can do the trick. But this space (and I’m sure, others to come) seems to be asking for more specific attention.

A simple way to clear space is to clap. Opening  the windows and door of the room to be cleared, walking around the room clapping into corners and up near where the walls meet the ceiling helps to move stagnant energy out. Seriously. The whole time I’m doing this I am honoring the energy that has collected there. It’s not bad or good, it’s energy.

After the clapping I clean the room, dust, vacuum, straighten up and take a shower.

Test it out. Go into a room that doesn’t see a lot of action, or one that has had a particularly negative visitor, and clap, just once. Is it clear? Does the sound reverberate? If not, perhaps you’ll understand. If so, great, no work needed, maybe.

If clapping isn’t your thing, a bell or chime will work. A handheld drum is also often used. Some use sage or incense.  If you are secretly woo woo and want to explore this phenomenon, I’ll post some links for you to check out. In the meantime, wander through your spaces, get a sense of them, notice the differences in how you feel in each space. And how each space feels.

Be curious. Honor your space and the energy there.

I recommend reading up on different techniques if this sounds useful to you. Here are the promised links. Let me know how it goes for you.

  • Denise Linn  is one of my favorites. She has strong Native American approach. I love her Space Clearing book.
  • Karen Kingston is another favorite.
  • Karen Rauch Carter is the funny, awesome lady who wrote the book I mentioned above, Move Your Stuff, Change Your Life.

Juiced Up

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When I first dreamed up this year of the purge thing it included a few components: body, mind, home, life. The results or byproducts of clearing and cleansing those aspects would include, more energy, more peace, less stuff, and higher consciousness regarding things and their impact on the planet and my life.

Oh, and, more time and money for travel. All roads lead to another road to wander down. There’s always an end game. But I am content to be in the process and see where else it takes me.

I’ve been working on the home aspect, having counted a few areas and filled at least one bag for donation, handed off random things to people I thought may enjoy them, and made lists of other items to go. Now it’s ime to switch gears a bit.

Onto the body. A little cleansing of the meat suit. Which brings us to juicing.

I love juicing. I have mentioned this. As far as a way to cleanse the body and shoot it through with energy, I have found no better, kinder way than juicing.

Like all things good for me, I let juicing go for a while. Why do we do this? Why do we say, ‘oh, yoga is great, I always feel so open and calm after I do yoga,’ then not do yoga for a week? Or is that just me?

Anyway, I thought I had unlocked that mystery or at least crafted a workaround where juicing was concerned.

Like all things awesome there is another side.

THE DOWNSIDES OF JUICING:

It takes time. Vegetables need to be rinsed. I remove the stalk of the kale to help preserve the life of my juicer, so that takes some time. I also remove seeds and stems from apples and pears, cut up large carrots and celery stalks. Maybe most of that isn’t necessary, but it works for me.

And money. A mound of greens the size of a Volkswagen Beetle produces about 12 ounces of juice. Organic greens are not inexpensive. I would love to grown my own and hope to plant as soon as it’s time, but until then, I buy.

Plus, juicers don’t come cheap. A good one will be $200 and up.

Waste. Once the liquid is extracted, all the fiber gets shot into the waste bin and it’s a lot. If you don’t have a compost bin, it just goes into the trash. That health fiber could be the start of the aforementioned garden.

Back to time: Most juicers have many parts and they all have to be cleaned. Mine has 7.

THE UPSIDE OF JUICING:

Energy, cleansing, energy. Juicing as opposed to smoothies provides a shot of nutrients because the fiber is removed. There’s nothing to slow down the digestive and assimilation process. I’m a big fan of smoothies too, but if it’s energy in a hurry I want, juicing is my go to.

So how to minimize all this if I’m in a time crunch?

THE WORKAROUND:

Purchasing cold pressed juices I trust. I am partial to the brand Suja. Until, of course, I learn that they have been purchased by one of the major soft drink companies who will undoubtedly change the formulas to include some sort of poison wrapped in a healthy name I can’t pronounce. But, as of yet, this has not happened. I hope. But, these juices come in plastic bottles and that makes me a little sad.

Knowing that 80% of what we toss into our recycle bins ends up at the landfill gives me pause every time I purchase something. It’s daunting. It has to be a process and that’s what I’m in the middle of right now.

Instead of taking the shortcut and buying my energy – and honestly the effect doesn’t seem as immediate with the store-bought elixir – I have to change some habits. I have to be consistent in what time I get up each morning to allow enough time for this important aspect of The Plan.

There is a back-up plan. A back-up to the back-up, if you will.

THE OTHER WORKAROUND:

Smoothies. I have my eye on a Vitamix. I have a 20% off coupon and a $100 gift card that will drop the price to about $350 but that is still an investment. Smoothies also have incredible health benefits with the added bonus of less produce waste and more options. I can throw a banana or an avocado in a Vitamix along with wheat grass powder and almost anything else. And the best part? One thing to clean and it does that on its own.

But it’s another appliance. *SIGH*

This mindful conscious thing is a lot of work. It’s a process. And totally worth it.

 

21 Day Challenge – Day 18 – W(h)iney

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Opening a wine bottle with a corkscrew in a restaurant

I like a glass of wine every now and then. Maybe two.

This is no crime.

Last night was such a night. Although I have to admit I didn’t really feel like having wine. My mind had to work really hard to convince my body to get up and open a bottle, which it did. Interesting. I had less than two full glasses, felt fine and was in bed asleep by 11 pm.

No harm.

I awoke around the usual time, somewhere between 6-7, got up, tripped over dogs on my way to the kitchen and commenced the usual routine. Made coffee, did some blog surfing, liked a few posts on Facebook, then though about breakfast before the gym.

I left around 9:30. Rowan was calling. It was raining pretty steadily but I wanted to row, so I left.

After a brief warm up I sauntered around the twisted steel and padded playground looking for the back and bicep machines my trainer had recommended. Each one was being used. I wasted a little time going to the bathroom, fixed my hair, straightened my shirt and checked out the weight machine situation once again. Still occupied.

I glanced over at Rowan. He was alone. I took it as a sign from the universe that I was to spend my time with Rowan today.

The first 500 meters were brutal. Not taxing as in sprinting a mile, but uncomfortable, achy. I was still somewhat sore from the preceding days but it wasn’t that, there was something else stuck.

Then it dawned on me. Could it be the wine? Just those two glasses? Probably. Any food or drink affects the functioning of the body. Good and bad.

I pushed harder, I wanted to rid my system of whatever was lingering.

I went on to row 5000 meters as repentance and also because I can’t seem to stop. A friend came and sat on the machine next to me to chat and still I didn’t stop. It might be a problem. But it feels like a really good problem to have.

The moral of the story? I have a choice now. I have always had a choice. I suppose what I mean to say is now I have a reason to consider my choices more thoughtfully. I have more fortification behind not having a glass of wine. But should I choose to imbibe, I know what to expect.

21 Day Challenge – Day 16 – Keeping Secrets

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woman telling secrets, pop art retro style illustration

There’s a secret that even if you shared it no one would believe you. And even if they believed you, it wouldn’t be enough to make them do it.

The secret? Exercise improves mental health. A lot.

At least for me. But I’m pretty sure this is a seriously documented truth.

I suppose the type and level of activity have a lot to do with the overall impact. I know for myself I have a nice soft energy and calmness after doing yoga. A similar feeling after a nice walk outside. But when I vigorously work out, like with my new love, Rowan (the rowing machine) I feel truly alive. Clear. Present.

Yesterday I took a wrong turn and tripped down the internet rabbit hole first thing in the morning. It cost me an opportunity to work out. But I justified it, so it was okay. I went to work, taught a class then came home to await the dishwasher repairman.

I found myself in an energetic wasteland. Instead of catching up on work and getting out in front of things – which is a huge complaint and constant wish – I decided to read instead. I munched on whatever I could find, not hungry for food, but hungry for something. So I ate everything.

After the dishwasher guy came and went, I took a nap.

By dinner time I was exhausted and apathetic.

Today, by stark contrast, I jumped on my computer first thing but just to check two things, then I was off. I took the dogs to get groomed then went to the gym.

The 5 minute warm up on the treadmill felt good. With weights I worked legs and shoulders today. I struggled through some of it, but kept going. I missed just one machine because there was someone on it and someone waiting. I made my way to my new friend, Rowan. I thought I might try to push myself a little farther today. The first two days of rowing I did 2,000 meters at a fairly decent clip. Today I did 3,000 at the same pace.

When I stood up I didn’t think my legs would support me. They were weak. I was spent. I walked a little bit, hopped back on the treadmill with a nice steep incline to try to remind my legs of their role in my life then chatted with my buddy the Thai Chi ex-pro football player. When I left my strength was restored and I felt amazing. I worked all day, produced some good stuff, and at 9 PM still feel vibrant and clear.

Hmmm. Secret’s out.

21 Day Challenge – Day 13 – By the Numbers

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The word Stamina on a fuel gauge measuring your drive, power, en

In the past when I set out to change my life through food and exercise I equated my success numerically. Mostly subtraction. How much weight did I lose? How many sizes did I go down? How many inches melted away?

The focus is different this time. I am hopeful for all the math above but my main objective, my ultimate focus is to gain this time. And I have. A lot.

I have more energy. I have more time. I have a better connection to my body. All these in less than two weeks.

I realize the focus of this journey may be more a result of my age, but I believe it has a lot to do with the cumulative effects of the awesomeness that I have been studying for the past 10 years.

My odyssey began, in reality in fourth grade when I believed my thighs to be hideously huge because my best friend had bird legs. I always chose skinny best friends. Later in life a few of them would confess they would have preferred curves like me at that age. Humans are ridiculous.

I digress.

Because of the thighs, I became a lifelong serial dieter. Weight Watchers, Dexatrim, Potato diet – that was my own invention, didn’t work as I’d planned – South Beach, Pritikin, no carbs, no fat, vegetarian, vegan. I am truly a diet expert.

Fed up with failed attempts to become super model thin, I enrolled in the Institute for Integrative Nutrition to make food my friend. It changed my life.

Then little by little I forgot it all. Or ignored it all. Now I’m bringing it all back. This time for the same reasons with hopefully similar results. And maybe for a little longer.

The numbers, I suppose are necessary for the ego, goal-oriented part of my brain. Since I am working with a trainer, so those numbers are all sealed in the “before” vault, along with all the pictures taken of me form the past 6 years.

I want to say this time feels different, but I suspect if my journals were unearthed, those words would appear before every big life altering decision I made.

But I’m still gonna say it. This time feels different.

21 Day Challenge – Day 9 – Not Your Grandma’s Calorie

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Diverse Hands Holding The Word Calories

Remember when calories mattered? When they were all the rage? Then it was sugar and everything became sugar free. Then we eliminated fat, but had to add sugar so the cardboard was palatable. Soon after carbs became the enemy. The truth is we need all of that, okay, maybe less sugar, but we need good fats, and vegetables and fruits ARE carbs. And after all calories still matter. They’re just not very glamorous.

The science hasn’t changed, these diet shenanigans were mostly marketing tools used to keep us from getting bored with the same old stuff. Pulling our dollars in this way and that. And it made us fat and unhealthy. It confused our metabolism and messed with our heads.

Let’s take a trip back to simpler times and revisit the calorie.

Before you yawn and turn to something shinier, would it interest you to know that in other countries calories are called energy units?

We are going to combine two boring things you thought you would never use again and make it fun. Calories and math.

Back in the day we would look at a chart that had our age and weight and say, okay, I should be consuming 2,000 calories a day. Good start, but it’s a little more complex than that.

Food is fuel to be used as energy. We expend energy during the day, and even when we sleep.

Ergo: Energy Units Consumed (food/calories) minus Energy Expended (breathing/moving) = Energy Burned or Energy Stored.  If you take in more energy than you expend in a day what is left over becomes either stored energy or excess weight in the body.

If you use more fuel than energy units taken in you will either be depleted or lose weight.

But what I really love is this connection to food. By calling them calories we make them something unrelatable to our workaday lives. Knowing we need energy to perform tasks and well, live, we now can also see that food is the fuel that gives us said energy.

It simplifies everything. Obviously some energy units are more packed with nutrients than others. But the math still stands.

So as I start playing with my food this week I will look at my food as an energy source, not just something to satisfy my physical or emotional appetite. If I can recognize that my appetite is driven by emotions, I must also realize that eating to pacify those emotions will actually fuel them instead, leading me to eat more of the ‘bad’ stuff.

Or, I can just figure out how much energy I need to burn to make those sweet little chocolates disappear.

 

 

 

21 Day Challenge – Taking it to the Body

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It’s Challenge Time again! If you’ve been playing along, you’ll remember we added the good stuff in on our first challenge. Then we fell in love with our own bodies – right? – on the second challenge. Now it’s time to work with that beautiful beast known as the human form. This is more about uncovering your best, most healthy vehicle. Not about bikini season, that wedding or high school reunion. It’s not about a number on the scale or on a tag.

Think energy. Dr. John Douillard (you’ll hear more about him later) says we should have the same amount of energy all day long. When we get up, in the afternoon, when it’s time for bed. Is that happening for you?

Think radiance. Think joy. Think nourishment. This is not punishment, on the contrary it is the best gift you could give to yourself.

This could be about weight loss or weight gain. Maybe it’s about sleeping well or eating better. All valid goals, but it is also about longevity and sustainability so move into it at a pace that works for you.

At its core, this challenge is about using the body as a gateway to YOU. It is the act of sloughing off and peeling away the dust and detritus of daily living and stress so that the inner light that is YOU can shine through.

So, are you ready?

I will chronicle what I am doing daily and offer potential challenges for you. I am not looking for fellow travelers on this well-worn path. I am looking for your insights about you as you navigate food labels, personal trainers, yoga instructors and the ever present well-meaning friend. I am holding you up. I know you’ve got this. I know that even if you are at your peak, there is something you can change. Maybe the challenge for you is doing less physical activity.

The first week will be dedicated to movement. You know, exercise. It is your task to bring movement into your life everyday. Over and above walking from your car to your office or around the grocery store. Go to the gym, do yoga, swim, dance, ride a bike. If you’re already pretty active this week should be a breeze. If not, get out there and go for a walk. Your body will thank you.

I look forward to seeing you along the way these next 21 days.

Feeling Groovy

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I have not yet fallen into the groove of my life. You know, that comfortable, yet active, relaxed state. Leaning back into life, open and ready but not anxious. Available for the next moment by being present in this one.

I feel it must exist. I have friends who seem to be there, but then that’s my perception. I think I’ve even been there, dipped my toe in on occasion, only I just recognize it as somewhere I’ve been, I don’t catch it in the moment. Perhaps that’s by design. If I notice I’m in it, will that take me out of it? Yearning to recreate it, missing the present once again?

My imagined groove goes a little something like this:

I wake up smiling and refreshed at 5 am. I brew myself a cup of organic free-trade coffee, add a dash of organic cinnamon, raw sugar and organic half and half. I take mug, that I purchased from an extremely talented struggling potter, full of this morning brew, on the deck of my modest ocean front home, or the balcony of my 12th floor upper west side apartment in New York City. Of course I could be traveling, probably I am, so maybe it’s a chai on the rooftop of a 5 story walk up somewhere fabulous in India or a steaming cup of tea in a coffee shop in London. Whatever the case, I am armed with gentle caffeine and settled into a chair, facing east, with my journal and pen, ready to watch the sun rise and let go of thoughts that may be bouncing around creating havoc.

Then I go work out, because I love to, usually dance or some other high energy sweat-making movement. Come home, shower eat a breakfast of organic goat’s milk yogurt with organic granola and a banana from my own tree (why not?).

Refreshed, fed and ready to go, I am at my desk at 9 AM ready and waiting for inspiration to flow through me, which it always does. Sometimes I write, sometimes I edit photos or create photo cards, other times I make jewelry.

I stop for lunch. Something delicious, nutritious and organic, no doubt.

Ok, so this is my groove. The rest of the day just naturally unfolds into a glorious evening of meaningful conversations with great friends back on that deck or balcony. We talk about consciousness and ways to make the world a better place. We share what we’re working on creatively and our processes. We plan to go to gallery openings and take trips together. Maybe we’re drinking naturally decaffeinated organic tea grown since the 6th century, that someone has just brought back from their recent trip to China. Or perhaps a new Malbec from a friend in Argentina. Jazz plays in the background. It’s a band we know personally. Or maybe one of us is sitting quietly plucking the strings of an acoustic guitar, creating on the spot.

The flaw in this scenario? When do I get to eat too much of the wrong thing? Where do I fit in Orange is the New Black? Where’s the struggle that make success sweet?

Truthfully I would be totally okay with this groove. I don’t need to create struggle anymore.  I know enough people who do and they don’t age well. They don’t see that they have a choice. Struggling is a choice. Suffering is truly optional – a state of mind. It’s in their perception. A wise teacher, Yogi Amrit Desai once said something like, “Wanting things to be different than they are is our only problem.”  Acceptance of anything is the key. You cannot change something you refuse to accept, it doesn’t exist.

And so, I accept that I need to move, write, be creative and tromp through wildlife to snap photos. I also accept that I’m in my groove more often than not. I have sipped excellent coffee from ocean front decks, high rise balconies in New York, Chai on rooftops in India and tea in coffee shops in London. I write. I move. I create. I have done all of these things.

It is in those moments that I feel disconnected and outside that I need only remember that this too is part of my groove. It is the recognition of the present moment that is indeed the groove.

[Photo: The magnificent city of Udaipur, India.]