Racing with Nature: A Superhero Errand

I slept in and awoke to the beautiful sound and view of rain falling in the canyon.  Snuggled in bed with Lucy and Tulle at either side I had a moment of sheer bliss, and yet again thanked my lucky stars that the bank and I own this amazing house.  Wow, wow, wow...OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!

 

I suddenly realized that my convertible was outside the garage with the top down.  I sprinted to the car which was already soaking, put the top up, because I couldn't pull it into the garage.  A couple days ago I had to tear apart the garage looking for something and had filled the car's space with a sea of boxes and crap (aka treasures from the past).

 

I moved in exactly four weeks ago and had committed to getting the garage organized this weekend.  It was supposed to be yesterday but after a 3.5 hour hike my body would have none of that.  So I jumped into action to organize it as quickly as possible so I could get the car in there and put the top down again so it could dry.

 

Now I have 11 boxes in my living room.  All need to have their contents properly put away where they belong in the house.  One of the boxes had to be immediately emptied because its box had already been water-damaged on the bottom.  Yes the rain had already made its way into the garage.

 

I've been waiting for the plumber to have time to put a drain outside the garage to avoid rain damage like this, but he's been busy.  So, this whole rain-in-the-car debacle was a blessing because I immediately got to work moving the cardboard boxes to the back of the garage.  The damaged box (just wet on the bottom) was full of first aid supplies. 

 

My dad's business was first aid and rescue supplies, and he loved nothing more than keeping me safe, sound and happy.  Therefore I have a ton of first aid supplies.   I ran in the house and dumped the contents of the box into a big basket.  The basket wasn't quite big enough so a bunch of stuff fell at my feet including... Cortaid for poison oak!

 

 

 

Yesterday's amazing 3.5 hour hiking trails were lined with poison oak which the girls brushed against many times.  Look how innocent they look in this photo!

 

 

 

As soon as my friends left after the hike yesterday, I bathed the girls, and threw all my clothes in the washer, but apparently not fast enough (again, racing nature) to avoid the poison sinking in.  My dad always had the magic elixir for body, heart and mind.  One week ago would have been his 77th birthday.  He's still giving me gifts.

 

Today's race with nature had some fun rewards.

 

 

 

The Grief Joy Rollercoaster

This Friday I will be moving to a beautiful new house with a 180 degree view of a lovely canyon.  It's a beautiful modern house, just what I wanted. It's more than I thought I could afford.  It will be a stretch for me, but I decided to jump and grow wings on the way down.  Fingers and budding wings crossed.

With less than a week left, it's mighty inconvenient that I have the flu for the first time in several years.  So much to do, so little time.  Still not enough energy to do anything physical.  When I do, my cough doubles me over and zaps me of all life force.

I thought I must have the flu due to my first time home buyer stress whittling down my immune system. I thought I must not have been handling it as brilliantly as I thought I was.  But yesterday a friend reminded me of that body/mind connection of lung issues.  Lungs represent grief.  I remember being quite conscious of this when my father was battling three different lung ailments in the last years of his life.  It was true for him.  My dad bore the weight of many losses - his own and his friends' and family's.  He was a very sensitive man.   His beautiful blue eyes even when sparkling with joy or excitement would belie the sadness underneath.

We aren't taught in school how to process grief.  That would be a handy class.  I might not have the flu now if I had taken it, because I didn't realize until my friend pointed it out that I too am grieving the loss of my current house, a most magical rental that I have been in for almost 4 years.  A lot of amazing things happened in my life while I was here: I wrote my book, ran the marathon, made a lot of new wonderful friends, started creative projects that will hopefully come to fruition in the next couple years.  It was a fruitful, miracle-making house for me. 

I moved here just a year and a half after my dad passed away. I lived here when I experienced harrowing dramas with my dad's business, where I really grieved his loss, and developed a new relationship with him, where I lived when I spread his ashes finally.  

His portrait is in the center of the house so I see it multiple times a day.  And the house is surrounded by birds and squirrels, both of which my dad taught me about when I was a tiny little girl.  We would pour over his many books on birds when I was little and he would tell me about each one. I wish I had retained any of the knowledge, but the most important thing was that it daddy time where I got to share his passion. 

The birds seem to know change is coming.  They greet me at every entrance and exit a little more dramatically than usual.  And one sits just outside the patio door, perched on the firewood cart, between sessions of banging repeatedly into the window.  No, he's not trying to get in, because the door is wide open.   When not there, he is about 25 feet away outside another window sitting on a table looking into a mirror, at intervals, repeatedly flying into the mirror as if attacking his mirror image.  It's not violent looking.  Here is a snippet, from the end of one of his rounds. Excuse the through-the-screen bad quality!

 

 

This little bird has never exhibited this behavior before this week.  I think he was trying to tell me something about my grief.  As my friends have all reminded me, it's OK to be sad about leaving one magical house for another.  And this place will always have a place in my heart.

 

And now I know one of the first things I will do is plant two trees like the ones just outside the patio door - jacaranda and bottle brush-- in my dad's honor.  The birds and squirrels adore these trees.  That plan even eases the grief a little bit.



 

 

Stretching Out Into 2015

 

 

 

Today is the day I write my Manifesto 2015.   First step was to check in with my Manifesto 2014, which is conveniently taped under my glass desk so I can see it every single day.  I don't necessarily LOOK AT IT every day, but it's there to remind me from time to time. 

 

While I did not get a publishing deal this year as intended in Item #1, I did a few short weeks ago received excellent notes from a potential publisher, who believes in my book,. So I am busily addressing all of her brilliant suggestions.  That item will go to the top of my Manifesto 2015. 

 

And while I am not done "buying" a house with grace and ease, I'm smack dab in the middle of escrow.  With no competition on my offer in this uber-competitive LA real estate market, I am calling that a win. 

 

All the other items on my Manifesto I did accomplish to varying degrees and will continue to work on in 2015.  One can never open one's heart too much or listen to too much music!

 

In contemplating my new manifesto I looked up the derivation of the word INTENTION and found this:

 

Intention: "purpose," early 13c., from Old French entente, from Latin intentus "a stretching out," in Late Latin "intention, attention," noun use of past participle of intendere "stretch out, lean toward, strain," literally "to stretch out"

 

I love the image of "stretching out."  You don't have to know how you are going to accomplish something to make it happen.  On 1/1/14 I still had no clue - literally none -- as to how I was going to finish a marathon.  I had no idea how I could afford a house on my own in LA. 

 

 

 

Just yesterday, I showed a friend this vision board I created when I started looking for a house in November.  I remember thinking when I created that it was mostly a picture of trees.  I wondered how on earth am I going to afford a view like THAT!  Well, somehow this vision board helped me stretch out, reach out and find it.  I kept it right next to my TV to remind me every single day.  I was showing my friend the photos of my new house next to the photos on this board and even she had to admit how extraordinary it was that my vision board is now fully translated into a 3D reality.

 

The main lesson I got from 2014 was that my timing on when things should happen is not necessarily for my highest good.  I don't necessarily have the widest bird's eye view.  And, very time I stopped trusting, I felt pain.

 

For instance, I fell in love -- mad love -- with a house.  I was the first back-up offer but I didn't get it.  That house was AMAZING and yet this house is far, far, far better!  Thank God I didn't get the first one I fell in love with!  Rejection is God's protection.

 

I didn't get the book published this year, and I was in pain for a good part of the year as I waited and wondered and ran into closed doors, etc.  Now I know this book will be born when it is meant to be born, so that it can help the most people in the optimal way.

 

I don't think I will ever be done with this lesson of trusting that I don't always know what, where, when and how things should happen.  But 2014 was certainly a gift in delivering the lesson on a silver platter -- over and over and over again!

 

So, now as I sit down to draw up my Manifesto 2015, I will stretch into my vision, do all that I can do to make all of my intentions a reality, and then I will stretch several notches more into TRUSTING that all is well, all is perfect, and the timing is nothing short of miraculous -- no matter what I say!

 

Here's to stretching, stretching, stretching into our 2015 dreams!



Don't Forget to Fly!

Superhero of Love Boot Camp is Back in Session

I have had a week of tears.  They weren't all sad tears, most were the really good ones that come from being moved or inspired.  Some just happened to come during professional meetings for a couple of creative projects.  So, while they are proof that my heart is open and full, they were a wee bit inconvenient, like today.

I was being interviewed by a lovely friend, Ted Lyde, for his podcast.  At the end of the interview I was acknowledging him for being a superhero dad and husband.  He is one very moving dude, but I'm not sure he was up for tears on his mostly comedic podcast!

Ted has been married 23 years, has a son and a daughter, and his son is disabled.  Ted has had to face his fears, his push-back against being in charge of the lives of his precious children, and his basic humanity around parenting.   He's had to look at some uncomfortable pieces of himself to negotiate the daddy seas, that everyone  knows can get choppy from time to time.   And, when dealing with disabilities, the waters can become quite treacherous. 

But even the simple daddy chores can call for heroic responses.  Ted was describing the delicate balance he tries to achieve with encouraging his daughter to really know her true power while giving her the reality check warning that she may run into people from time to time who won't share his, her mom's, or her friends' view of her, and that that's OK.   What spectacular coaching, which I wish on some level my dad had given me: not everyone is going to like you and that's just dandy.

I told Ted that I had uncovered a wound only a week ago around the issue of being liked.  I have a hard time when people I like don't like me back.  It happened last week, that a friend of two years came to this conclusion.   I wondered how at my age I was so affected by him no longer liking me. 

So, I dug in and went back to Superhero of Love Boot Camp.  I did a Debbie Ford-inspired shadow exercise.  I had done Debbie's Shadow Process workshop years ago and still actively use the techniques I learned.  This work is mentioned throughout my book Superhero of Love: Heal Your Broken Heart & Then Go Save the World.   I think shadow work is so helpful to coming into our light, our full power, and to opening up our hearts to love and be loved as much as possible.

So, the Ford-inspired question I asked myself was "When was another time that I felt that I wasn't liked, that devastated me like this?"  My memory immediately shot to a place I would never have imagined.  My dad moved to Alaska when I was 11 years old.   I never had been conscious that my 11 year old brain made his moving to Alaska mean that he didn't like me.   It wasn't, of course, the truth, but it was what my little girl self thought was the truth.  It was the story I made up about it to have it all make sense.
 
Ironically, one of my favorite memories of my dad was not long after I gave birth to that shadow self, during one of my first summers I spent with him in Alaska.  We were leaning against his truck and he said "I know you know I love you.  And, I know you love me.  But I want to be sure you know that I actually really like you."  I will never forget that moment for as long as I live.  Yet, the year before, very likely at the moment he told me he was moving, my 11 year old said "He doesn't like me. If he really liked me he wouldn't move so far away."

I had a good long cry for that little girl.  I felt like a bad parent who left her on the side of the road all those years ago.  After my cry was over, the pain in my heart completely disappeared.  The world was no longer collapsing because a friend no longer liked me.  That shadow self, born at age 11, whose disempowering mantra "he doesn't like me" had been partially running my life, and used to grab the wheel from time to time, like it did last week.  Uncovering this shadow, though, I no longer have to be disempowered when someone doesn't like me.  She will always be there.  Our shadows don't disappear.  But, now that I am conscious of her and her mantra, I can listen to her concerns, but not let her drive the car.  She's not even 16, after all!   

When Ted and I were talking about this today, I remembered that a Shadow Process workshop is coming up in Los Angeles on December 5th through 7th.  I couldn't more highly recommend this workshop if you are looking for more freedom and power in your life.  It was a very big part of my Superhero of Love training.  It is work I will always practice because it allowed me to love and be loved more than ever before.

Check it out here:  The Shadow Process

Every Inch of You is Perfect From the Bottom to the Top

Every Superhero of Love needs to know:

Every
Inch
Of
You
Is
Perfect
From
The
Bottom
To
The
Top

Superhero of Love Territory = The Happy Marriage

My latest HuffPo article inspired by and endless list of friends:

http://huff.to/1p7CtHP

Let me know what you think!

LOVE!