susannah conway

Being Alone No Longer Scares Me.

2013-11-28 18.41.29Yesterday was the last day of The Sacred Alone ecourse I participated in which author Susannah Conway facilitated. I really hated to see it end. Though I didn’t want it to end, I’m not so sure without the daily emails, I will do it on my own. Maybe not as regularly, but perhaps when I need to. Will see.

One thing I do want to be better at is meditating. Susannah provided some wonderful resources for that, so I’ll have to check it out. It feels like a linking miss for me. While at the same time it feels challenging for me to do as I find it hard to sit still too long without feeling so fidgety.

Something also occurred to me yesterday as I  thought about the idea of The Sacred Alone and being, well, alone.  I thought about when I was in my 30’s and there was no way I could have ever imagined that I could live on my own.

I’ve been married for almost 30 years. I’ve never lived by myself. I used to be terrified thinking about the day if John would die before me. I couldn’t imagine living alone. It really scared me. The idea of being alone no longer scares me so much. I’m not yet ready to be on my own, or I should say,  I don’t want to because of what that would mean and not having John by my side. But what is different now is that I know I will be okay. That makes a big difference.

I also recall quite a few years ago John saying to me that he didn’t worry about me being on my own any longer should something happen to him first. He said it gives him peace of mind as he used to worry about that.

I actually do spend a lot of time alone being that I don’t go to a job outside my home. For the most part, I love it. When I need to be around people, it’s nice to be able to choose for the most part, when I want to do that.

As I think about The Sacred Alone, it’s been lovely these last 14 days. It has affirmed for me that I truly do enjoy time by myself. I’m grateful for this season of my life to relish in the quiet and work alone. And I also appreciated this time to give myself permission to linger a bit longer in the mornings… to ponder, meditate and journal… and then “go gently” on with my day. “Go gently” is how Susannah signed her emails everyday, and I’ve taken it as a mantra to keep moving forward in my own life in this way too.

And should I forget, well, Little Miss Gidget is always my reminder to slow down and know that my life will move through the day just as it should be. Just as it should be.

Reflection: I Kid You Not. This Really Happened.

IMG_1992 eI am on day ten of the ecourse, “The Sacred Alone” facilitated by Susannah Conway.  Every morning I’ve read the essay, done the 5-minute meditation, and wrote in my journal for at least 10 minutes. Except for Sunday, when I did The Sacred Alone in the afternoon, which was a lovely change of pace for that day.

Yesterday we worked with holding beads in our hands during the meditation, so I added the beads to this small altar that has now become an unplanned altar of sorts, dedicated to the sacred alone time I’m doing.

Today’s meditation is what Susannah called, “Mirror Meditation.” I am familiar with mirror work having been introduced to it through my life coach many years ago.

But using it within a meditation was intriguing… as well as, challenging. We were encouraged to look into a mirror. I chose the one I had nearby which is a small round one as you see in the photo.

We were told to just look without making any judgment. So looking in a mirror pretty much first thing in the morning isn’t what most women would say is their favorite thing to do. But being dedicated to this ritual, I didn’t want to back down even though it felt uncomfortable at first.

Right away, forgetting what Susannah just said, I noticed my flaws, or what I really should say as “perceived” flaws. The blemish on my nose, the age spots, the dark in the corner of my eyes, my neck which wrinkles that seem to wrinkle a little more each day. While looking at my neck, in my head I heard myself say, “What is that anyways?”

Susannah guided us in the short meditation challenging ourselves to really look at ourselves kindly and with compassion. To think of someone we love and cherish as if you were looking at them, but to apply that to our own reflection. To look into our own eyes and like what we see. To say to ourselves out loud, I see you, I honor youI love you. It felt odd, but Susannah assured us that was okay.

After the meditation, one of our prompts for journaling was to write what came up for us when we looked in the mirror. Thinking of my friend who I adore, who I had thought of when I was looking in the mirror, I realized something.

It’s something I continue to work on within myself— to be a reflection and an example to other women to like who they are. I’m not always perfect, and am a work in progress. But this friend came into my mind and I knew it was a reminder to me to be that example not only for her, but for other women too. To like what I see. To honor myself so they too can honor themselves.

As I wrote those words, I was moved to tears. After I was done writing in my journal, as I’ve done since starting this ecourse, (though it is not actually part of the 20-minute ritual), I picked a Grace card. I pick one at random or follow my intuition. The word reflection popped in my head as I picked up the deck of cards. So I counted how many letters are in reflection and counted to card 10.

I kid you not… this is the card that came up — SELF: Go within. When we invest more energy in developing our spiritual lives, the outer world begins to take care of itself.

Goosebumps ran up and down my arms. Wow, I thought, this is amazing. I sat in awe for quite a few moments and couldn’t believe what just happened.

Then later this morning I received a text from the very same friend who I thought about while I did my mirror meditation. She sent me a photo she took of herself with her phone, looking into her mirror. It looks like her, but yet, it does not. It was so very beautiful. I wanted to cry from the shear beauty of it, but also from how connected I felt in that moment with her– as if we were seeing each others soul’s, both having done mirror work in our own way without realizing the other was doing it.  By the way, she is not taking this ecourse, so she wouldn’t have known I had just done this same thing this morning.

It was just the photo of her and no text. In some ways, I felt like I was looking at my younger self after having just done the mirror work. It felt so surreal.

I then checked my email. I subscribe to Daily Joyride, so each day I get a different quote.  This is the quote that was in my inbox:

“Tear off the mask. Your face is beautiful.” -Rumi

No denying there was absolute synchronicity going on here today. I’m still marveling in it and will likely for quite some time to come.

Bliss. How Do We Get It and Keep It?

Photo courtesy of Flickr 

My yogi tea bag saying this morning says:  “Bliss is a constant state of mind, undisturbed by gain or loss.”   I love the sayings I find on my tea bag each morning.  They always make me think.

Bliss, like choices, yes, I do believe are a state of mind. We have a choice to live in bliss, no matter what may be going on in our lives. But how challenging that is at times, right?  I know for me, someone who for the past five years has really talked the talk of being positive with my wheelie side kick, Frankie, this is something I’ve tried hard to to not only talk, but also walk.

I’ll admit this summer was a bit of a challenge for me with being positive despite losing Frankie. I found myself swallowing the grief many times, continuing to put on my happy, blissful, positive face, even when I wanted to just lay down and cry. I didn’t want to be happy. I wanted to wallow in the depths of losing Frankie- the little being who filled my everyday with such amazing love and joy. I didn’t want to be in bliss.  I wanted to feel sorry for myself and crawl into a hole and never come out again. I wanted to feel sorry for what ended and not have hope for what might be. All I wanted was to have Frankie back again. Then my life would be complete once again.

But I knew I couldn’t stay there- and many days, even though I had days of wanting to just live in the pain and let it take me away, I also wanted to find my way back to my bliss.  I read a book a few weeks ago that talks about grief in one of the most honest ways I’ve ever read. The book is called, “This I know- notes on unraveling the heart”  by Susannah Conway. It is the book chosen for the Creative Book Salon I am in which writing coach, Cynthia Morris leads each month.  Susannah says in her book, “You don’t get over grief- you move through it as you learn to live with the loss. You have to learn to swim with it.”

So that is what I did this summer, I learned to move through it, to accept that yes, my life is now changed because Frankie is gone. I learned to swim.

Another thing she said which I found so profound was this, “Each person experiences grief in their own individual way. And though I have often thought that to lose a child would be the most devastating loss of all, there is no hierarchy to grief—only we can know the pain we feel and what we have lost.”  I can’t even begin to express what this meant to me to read this. Even though I know losing an animal is just as hard as losing a human for many, sometimes harder, I still can find myself not expressing my loss around those who may not understand for fear of judgement.  But I appreciated how Susannah seems to give permission to dealing with any type of loss and doing it in our own way.

This brings me full circle back to bliss- a state of mind.  Susannah lost the love of her life and she spiraled down to the deepest depths of her soul– only to come out finding a new bliss, trusting that it was there all along—that she would find her way back to it.  Bliss, always there, no matter what gain or loss we have– we just have to make the conscious choice to choose it.  And when our mind can’t even begin to grasp it during dark days–  we can trust that we can have bliss back in the simple act of choosing our thought to be just that.