Showing posts with label grace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grace. Show all posts
Monday, January 30, 2012
It isn't funny when the other person isn't laughing...
Cruel to Be Kind?
Only in an 80s song...
105
Recently, I saw a side of myself I am sure most of us have seen, but it made me pause and take a closer look at who I am and who I want to be.
I found myself being incredibly critical of someone. I wasn't just mocking. I was being cruel. Not to her face of course, but behind her back. Whispering words like "skanky" and other equally degrading things. *sigh* I don't even like writing about it, but I did it - I said it. And I laughed about it.
Until I got home. Then I thought about it. And I wondered, where did the desire to be so harsh and critical about this woman come from?
Clearly I learned some of it growing up. When you are judged so harshly, and bullied at times, you become harsh yourself. I also think it is a form of self protection. I think being cruel comes from a sense of anger, I think it is a way to temporarily make myself feel better. I also think it comes from a pattern in my own life of being extremely critical about myself. I have spent way too many hours to count being harsh about myself - my appearance, my intelligence... Being mean to someone else is just an extension of being mean to myself. Instead of focusing the anger inward, it is much easier to focus it on someone else. But the way I felt after that initial deflection wasn't healthy or productive.
I thought about how I would feel if I had to face the woman and tell her to her face what I had whispered about her behind her back. I would have been ashamed. Humiliated even. Humbled. The worst part? This woman has been nothing but kind to me. Yes, she has a colorful past, but (if you believe such things) it's God's job to 'chat' about that with her, not mine. I have my own life to chat with God about; I should focus on that and not anyone else's life.
I have worked with people who have been cruel at times in the name of "funny". I have had friends in the past that have been cruel in the name of "funny". And I, myself, have been 'cruel' in the past in the name of "funny". And really? It isn't funny. It's mean.
I suppose it is the same reason I never found those 'gotcha' tv shows entertaining. Laughing at another person's humiliation to me isn't funny. I had a student today tell another student who was teasing her, "If I am not laughing? It isn't funny." I agree with her, but I'd take it a step further. If the other person isn't laughing? It isn't funny, it's bullying.
I've been told, when I talk about not liking shows like "Candid Camera" that I am being 'too sensitive' and that I am 'over reacting'. I learned about a new term recently. It's called 'gaslighting' and if you haven't read this article? It's enlightening. This article is also eye opening.
I realized that, for me, walking in a state of grace means walking in such a way that when the day comes that I have to stand in the presence of Divinity, I can look at my life and know I did the best I could to be kind in the face of cruelty. I know what it is to be mocked and derided. I want to live my life in integrity and in the process of being kinder to others, I am learning to be kinder to myself.
Peace,
MaryKate
Monday, October 10, 2011
State of Grace, or, Once Upon a Pair of Pants...
102
About ten years ago now, I lost a lot of weight. Enough that I could fit down about three sizes of clothes. To celebrate my newly unwearable wardrobe, my sister, one of my best friends Lori and I went shopping. I was excited and tried on some pants I normally would never even consider wearing - leather pants. I walked out of the dressing room and my sister and friend teared up. They told me how beautiful I looked. How sexy. They told me they had never seen me look so hot.
I went back into the dressing room, took off the pants and started to cry. I kind of shattered into tiny pieces. I wasn't ready. I was terrified. My sister came back and asked if I was okay. I lied and said I was. Within a month I gained back all the weight I lost and then some.
I haven't really tried to lose weight since then. I've played around with the idea, but haven't really been willing to put myself out there and make it happen. My weight was comfortable. I felt safe. I felt... fine. But starting this blog last year was a step in a new direction, and this summer? Was in many ways the destination.
This summer, parts of me shifted. You can read about my summer here, but it was a wonderful, complex, difficult, insightful experience. I learned more about myself this summer than perhaps years of therapy could have ever taught me. (Not to knock therapy, I had some very meaningful insight in that process and highly recommend it.) This summer I learned about grace.
Grace sort of snuck up on me. Having lived my life thus far thinking I could control everything in my life, grace showed up and laughed at me. If I learned *anything* this summer, I learned that I can't control everything. Heck, I can't control 'anything'. I realized I can't fix my friend's cancer, I can't make this experience 'okay' for her, her daughter or the rest of her family. One night, exhausted, unable to make myself drive that RV for one more day, full of grief and barely able to find one ounce of patience or compassion for myself or my friends, I had a breakdown in the hotel parking lot outside of Disneyland. I couldn't stand up and I couldn't stop crying. I sat on the slowly cooling asphalt and couldn't get my act together. Just like all those years ago in the dressing room, I felt all that anxiety and panic and fear overwhelm me.
But this time? When I put myself back together, I think I might have put the pieces back better. Instead of wrapping myself back into my weight, driven by my fear, I let go. Instead of grasping at the shore after the paralyzing wave of emotion washed over me, I let go. I moved away from the the idea that grasping onto the detritus along the shore was safer than moving through the current of my life. I let go of believing that the shore was safer than 'swimming with god'. I let go of holding on to all the crap and allowed myself to be carried into the water away from shore. I felt liberated and I felt something inside me move out of the shadows and step into the light. I found the strong core of who I am step forward and act as a rudder in my life.
From that emotional low in the parking lot, I moved into what I can only call a 'state of grace'. I wish I could explain it better. I wish I had the words to tell someone else what this feel like. Where I am in my life. But I feel... different. (I kinda want to break into the Westside Story classic, 'I Feel Pretty') I feel this sort of peace in my life. I realize I can't 'control' anything, but I can move with the flow of the water. I've been told that the only thing that moves with the flow of the water is a dead fish, but I disagree. I think that moving with the flow of the water is the best way not to drown. Learning to swim with the current is a heck of a lot less exhausting and much more fulfilling.
I started weight watchers again. I'm glad I did. The even nicer part is doing the program with someone. It's nice to cook for two and share the experience. There are three of us doing it together. God knows I have done WW probably 5 or 6 times, but this time? It feels like it is only an accessory to an already changed perspective on how and when and why I eat. I don't feel that desperation I felt before and I feel like I have a different relationship with food, with myself and with others. We are just doing the online part, not going to meetings, but so far I haven't missed them. I'm combining WW with the 12 step philosophy of taking things one moment at a time. Mostly, I'm just trying to remember to breathe.
This new space doesn't mean I didn't overeat this weekend. Doesn't mean I'm perfect by any means. But I do feel excited this time and letting go of ten pounds in the first week felt AWESOME. I don't expect those kind of results to continue, but I feel like this time if I follow the program, I'll see the results quickly.
This time, I'm going to come out of the dressing room happy and confident in who I am, no matter what shape or size.
Peace,
MaryKate
102
About ten years ago now, I lost a lot of weight. Enough that I could fit down about three sizes of clothes. To celebrate my newly unwearable wardrobe, my sister, one of my best friends Lori and I went shopping. I was excited and tried on some pants I normally would never even consider wearing - leather pants. I walked out of the dressing room and my sister and friend teared up. They told me how beautiful I looked. How sexy. They told me they had never seen me look so hot.
I went back into the dressing room, took off the pants and started to cry. I kind of shattered into tiny pieces. I wasn't ready. I was terrified. My sister came back and asked if I was okay. I lied and said I was. Within a month I gained back all the weight I lost and then some.
I haven't really tried to lose weight since then. I've played around with the idea, but haven't really been willing to put myself out there and make it happen. My weight was comfortable. I felt safe. I felt... fine. But starting this blog last year was a step in a new direction, and this summer? Was in many ways the destination.
This summer, parts of me shifted. You can read about my summer here, but it was a wonderful, complex, difficult, insightful experience. I learned more about myself this summer than perhaps years of therapy could have ever taught me. (Not to knock therapy, I had some very meaningful insight in that process and highly recommend it.) This summer I learned about grace.
Grace sort of snuck up on me. Having lived my life thus far thinking I could control everything in my life, grace showed up and laughed at me. If I learned *anything* this summer, I learned that I can't control everything. Heck, I can't control 'anything'. I realized I can't fix my friend's cancer, I can't make this experience 'okay' for her, her daughter or the rest of her family. One night, exhausted, unable to make myself drive that RV for one more day, full of grief and barely able to find one ounce of patience or compassion for myself or my friends, I had a breakdown in the hotel parking lot outside of Disneyland. I couldn't stand up and I couldn't stop crying. I sat on the slowly cooling asphalt and couldn't get my act together. Just like all those years ago in the dressing room, I felt all that anxiety and panic and fear overwhelm me.
But this time? When I put myself back together, I think I might have put the pieces back better. Instead of wrapping myself back into my weight, driven by my fear, I let go. Instead of grasping at the shore after the paralyzing wave of emotion washed over me, I let go. I moved away from the the idea that grasping onto the detritus along the shore was safer than moving through the current of my life. I let go of believing that the shore was safer than 'swimming with god'. I let go of holding on to all the crap and allowed myself to be carried into the water away from shore. I felt liberated and I felt something inside me move out of the shadows and step into the light. I found the strong core of who I am step forward and act as a rudder in my life.
From that emotional low in the parking lot, I moved into what I can only call a 'state of grace'. I wish I could explain it better. I wish I had the words to tell someone else what this feel like. Where I am in my life. But I feel... different. (I kinda want to break into the Westside Story classic, 'I Feel Pretty') I feel this sort of peace in my life. I realize I can't 'control' anything, but I can move with the flow of the water. I've been told that the only thing that moves with the flow of the water is a dead fish, but I disagree. I think that moving with the flow of the water is the best way not to drown. Learning to swim with the current is a heck of a lot less exhausting and much more fulfilling.
I started weight watchers again. I'm glad I did. The even nicer part is doing the program with someone. It's nice to cook for two and share the experience. There are three of us doing it together. God knows I have done WW probably 5 or 6 times, but this time? It feels like it is only an accessory to an already changed perspective on how and when and why I eat. I don't feel that desperation I felt before and I feel like I have a different relationship with food, with myself and with others. We are just doing the online part, not going to meetings, but so far I haven't missed them. I'm combining WW with the 12 step philosophy of taking things one moment at a time. Mostly, I'm just trying to remember to breathe.
This new space doesn't mean I didn't overeat this weekend. Doesn't mean I'm perfect by any means. But I do feel excited this time and letting go of ten pounds in the first week felt AWESOME. I don't expect those kind of results to continue, but I feel like this time if I follow the program, I'll see the results quickly.
This time, I'm going to come out of the dressing room happy and confident in who I am, no matter what shape or size.
Peace,
MaryKate
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
The Mystery of it All...
85/100
About eight years ago, I gave up believing in magic and mystery. I put those ideas away like the dreamings of little girls. I chided myself for ever thinking that sort of thing existed in the first place. I determined growing up was necessary and that meant giving up the belief in magic. Or more... giving up the possibility of magic.. of mystery. Of the Great Mystery.
I found myself getting involved with people who were also convinced that there was no great mystery. There was no god. There was death. The end. And even though a great part of me screamed out in sadness... I shoved it away behind my walls and plodded along with my 'there is no god' relationships.
But it didn't last. It couldn't. Because I do believe in something more. I realize, for me? There is no real way to know what the 'something more' means, but I believe in that connection that ties all things together. That thread that weaves and connects the story. That strand of spirit that travels back to the very beginnings and reminds us there is more.
I do not claim to know what that 'something more' is. And I do not feel the need to convince those that don't see it that way, that there is, in fact, a god. I think that is something you find on your own. You are led to that awareness. You are compelled by it. At least, that is the way it worked in my life.
But I know? I will not be without it again. And in a partner? I am not sure I can connect with someone who doesn't see it. Yes, those who do not believe are compassionate. They are kind. They are loving. One of my friends who is certain there is nothing but death, is one of the most giving, honest, trustworthy and humanitarian people I know.
But just like I realize that setting the bar on McDreamy is something I am ready to seek in my life, I also realize that although I can enjoy, befriend, laugh and love someone who is sure there is no god... I do not want to partner with someone who has that belief. Because shared connection? Is magic. A shared belief in the interconnectedness of life, of some sort of divinity that ties it all together? Is part of the Great Mystery and it is who I am. When I look at someone? I want to see that shared truth. We all have our own truth. Truth doesn't have to manifest itself the same in a partner as it manifests itself for me, but I desire a partner who connects to that space in me. Because that space is important.
And while I do not know that I can bring myself back to a structured and rigid set of beliefs, I know that the wall of defense I built that kept me away from my spirit is crumbling. I know that part of why my past relationships didn't work, is because I chose men who refused to believe in any connection to Divinity. Who had no belief in Grace. Who didn't see the world as magical or mystical. And at the time? That worked for me because I had my own issues with Grace and Divinity. These guys were scifi guys, or gameplaying guys, or comic book guys or myth-loving guys... but that is where their connection to something outside of themselves ended. They would say "there is no god" and I would concur or at least act demure.
I do not claim to have answers. I realize thinking that I somehow 'know' who/what God is for myself (and especially for someone else) is laughable. Part of the Great Mystery is that I do not know. I suppose that is what makes it faith. But I know I have a connection to that energy. And I cherish that energy and that connection. It is who I am. It is important. And it is worth seeking in myself and in a partner.
Part of my being healthy is being open to divinity and trusting the way I hear and feel god in my life. To trust in those feelings of magic and mystery is the first step in seeing myself and my connection to all there is. How that experience manifests itself? I am open to exploring. Even if that means in order to find the type of partner I seek I must let go of potential relationships to hold out for someone with whom I can share that exploration.
Peace,
MaryKate
85/100
About eight years ago, I gave up believing in magic and mystery. I put those ideas away like the dreamings of little girls. I chided myself for ever thinking that sort of thing existed in the first place. I determined growing up was necessary and that meant giving up the belief in magic. Or more... giving up the possibility of magic.. of mystery. Of the Great Mystery.
I found myself getting involved with people who were also convinced that there was no great mystery. There was no god. There was death. The end. And even though a great part of me screamed out in sadness... I shoved it away behind my walls and plodded along with my 'there is no god' relationships.
But it didn't last. It couldn't. Because I do believe in something more. I realize, for me? There is no real way to know what the 'something more' means, but I believe in that connection that ties all things together. That thread that weaves and connects the story. That strand of spirit that travels back to the very beginnings and reminds us there is more.
I do not claim to know what that 'something more' is. And I do not feel the need to convince those that don't see it that way, that there is, in fact, a god. I think that is something you find on your own. You are led to that awareness. You are compelled by it. At least, that is the way it worked in my life.
But I know? I will not be without it again. And in a partner? I am not sure I can connect with someone who doesn't see it. Yes, those who do not believe are compassionate. They are kind. They are loving. One of my friends who is certain there is nothing but death, is one of the most giving, honest, trustworthy and humanitarian people I know.
But just like I realize that setting the bar on McDreamy is something I am ready to seek in my life, I also realize that although I can enjoy, befriend, laugh and love someone who is sure there is no god... I do not want to partner with someone who has that belief. Because shared connection? Is magic. A shared belief in the interconnectedness of life, of some sort of divinity that ties it all together? Is part of the Great Mystery and it is who I am. When I look at someone? I want to see that shared truth. We all have our own truth. Truth doesn't have to manifest itself the same in a partner as it manifests itself for me, but I desire a partner who connects to that space in me. Because that space is important.
And while I do not know that I can bring myself back to a structured and rigid set of beliefs, I know that the wall of defense I built that kept me away from my spirit is crumbling. I know that part of why my past relationships didn't work, is because I chose men who refused to believe in any connection to Divinity. Who had no belief in Grace. Who didn't see the world as magical or mystical. And at the time? That worked for me because I had my own issues with Grace and Divinity. These guys were scifi guys, or gameplaying guys, or comic book guys or myth-loving guys... but that is where their connection to something outside of themselves ended. They would say "there is no god" and I would concur or at least act demure.
I do not claim to have answers. I realize thinking that I somehow 'know' who/what God is for myself (and especially for someone else) is laughable. Part of the Great Mystery is that I do not know. I suppose that is what makes it faith. But I know I have a connection to that energy. And I cherish that energy and that connection. It is who I am. It is important. And it is worth seeking in myself and in a partner.
Part of my being healthy is being open to divinity and trusting the way I hear and feel god in my life. To trust in those feelings of magic and mystery is the first step in seeing myself and my connection to all there is. How that experience manifests itself? I am open to exploring. Even if that means in order to find the type of partner I seek I must let go of potential relationships to hold out for someone with whom I can share that exploration.
Peace,
MaryKate
Sunday, April 17, 2011
The Tao of Brisket
84/100
Sooo... this weekend I was going to clean my house. Top to bottom I had it all planned. It's Sunday right now and my house is a *bigger*disaster than before I started on Friday. I spilled brisket broth all over my kitchen. If you don't know? Brisket broth is mostly fat... I've been cleaning up grease now for 20 minutes and it isn't even 9am.
I was pissed about the brisket anyhow. Stupid 20lb brisket was WAAY more brisket than I needed. I had promised someone I'd make brisket in exchange for Windows 7 and *maybe* the new Office Suite software. The only brisket available without going all over town was a 20lb brisket. I was irritated that I couldn't even fit the stupid thing on the grill. So I cut it in half, wrestled the 10 pounds of beef and spice onto the grill, closed the lid, finished spicing the other half to put on the grill 12 hours after the current piece came off and started to clean the disaster a 20lb brisket made in my kitchen (notice how I blame the brisket for making the mess, not the person cooking the brisket?). That was the moment the 'intended recipient' texted me to inform me that work was quite busy and that brisket was probably out for the weekend. I stood looking at the disaster of a kitchen and thought... "Really? REALLY? I couldn't have gotten that message, oh I don't know... maybe 15 minutes earlier before I started wrestling with the dead cow in my kitchen??????"
I fumed. I was put out! I felt sooo disrespected. It pulled up a lot of deeper issues and I could feel my frustration level escalating. But as is wont to happen lately, I'm roiling in my anger about the whole situation getting a good hatin' on and I hear a voice... well... maybe I shouldn't write that. Admitting to occasionally hearing voices in my public blog might *not* be the best choice. Still, that doesn't change what happened. I heard the sweetest, gentlest voice say to me, "MaryKatherine, stop. Just stop. Be still a moment and listen."
When I hear a voice? And that voice tells me to stop and listen? I tend to do that. And what happened when I stopped and listened was worth it. Because a feeling came over me (no, no more voices :) ) of being grateful. It started with a feeing I needed to stop being angry at the poor cow. It had already given its life, I didn't need to heap on any more anger at that poor beast. So I took a moment to thank the cow for sharing its life and its meat. Then? I got this picture in my head of what to do. Instead of being upset by who couldn't eat the brisket, I decided to be grateful to those who could. First? I invited over my friend Leanna and her husband Mike. They took care of my cat while I was gone for 2 weeks in Ohio with my dad. I invited them over for dinner and they happily accepted. Then I started to think about the 15 pounds of brisket I'd have after I trimmed off the fat and it cooked down... I decided to take some over to my friends F and R. They have been so wonderful to me and supportive. We always have a wonderful time when we get together. Another friend just had a beautiful new baby... what new mom doesn't want someone to bring them fresh brisket and the trimmings for a dinner? I realized I could take the remaining brisket to work on Monday. Every single person at my job had to make a sacrifice because I was in Ohio for two weeks. My sister and I had talked about doing something nice, and I realized this brisket? And taking all the fixings for lunch? Would be just the thing. I didn't realize when I started cooking the brisket that it was going to end up being an exercise in grace more than an exercise in cooking.
I know that life doesn't always take the path I think it is going to take. When it doesn't? I get frustrated, probably because the unknown makes me nervous. Part of the idea of Tao is learning to go with the flow of life instead of fighting against it. And a big part of going with the flow of life? Is remembering to stop and listen and let grace in. When I do, I see the bigger picture. It turns out, this story wasn't about who didn't want the brisket, it was actually about who did. And I miss that sometimes when I get stuck in my own self and forget the bigger picture.
Being healthy means having grace when I think of others. When I take a moment of grace, I remember they are struggling as well. Often their issues are hidden and it is easy for me to jump to conclusions that aren't accurate. And as important as it is to have grace with others, having grace with myself is just (if not more) important. Not being harsh on myself, not being overly critical or perfectionistic is a way of remembering to have grace. If grace starts with me? It is easier to hold that space for others.
So, thanks 20lb brisket! Thanks for reminding me to be grateful... from the life of the cow? To the lives of the people I love and love me in return.
Peace,
MaryKate
84/100
Sooo... this weekend I was going to clean my house. Top to bottom I had it all planned. It's Sunday right now and my house is a *bigger*disaster than before I started on Friday. I spilled brisket broth all over my kitchen. If you don't know? Brisket broth is mostly fat... I've been cleaning up grease now for 20 minutes and it isn't even 9am.
I was pissed about the brisket anyhow. Stupid 20lb brisket was WAAY more brisket than I needed. I had promised someone I'd make brisket in exchange for Windows 7 and *maybe* the new Office Suite software. The only brisket available without going all over town was a 20lb brisket. I was irritated that I couldn't even fit the stupid thing on the grill. So I cut it in half, wrestled the 10 pounds of beef and spice onto the grill, closed the lid, finished spicing the other half to put on the grill 12 hours after the current piece came off and started to clean the disaster a 20lb brisket made in my kitchen (notice how I blame the brisket for making the mess, not the person cooking the brisket?). That was the moment the 'intended recipient' texted me to inform me that work was quite busy and that brisket was probably out for the weekend. I stood looking at the disaster of a kitchen and thought... "Really? REALLY? I couldn't have gotten that message, oh I don't know... maybe 15 minutes earlier before I started wrestling with the dead cow in my kitchen??????"
I fumed. I was put out! I felt sooo disrespected. It pulled up a lot of deeper issues and I could feel my frustration level escalating. But as is wont to happen lately, I'm roiling in my anger about the whole situation getting a good hatin' on and I hear a voice... well... maybe I shouldn't write that. Admitting to occasionally hearing voices in my public blog might *not* be the best choice. Still, that doesn't change what happened. I heard the sweetest, gentlest voice say to me, "MaryKatherine, stop. Just stop. Be still a moment and listen."
When I hear a voice? And that voice tells me to stop and listen? I tend to do that. And what happened when I stopped and listened was worth it. Because a feeling came over me (no, no more voices :) ) of being grateful. It started with a feeing I needed to stop being angry at the poor cow. It had already given its life, I didn't need to heap on any more anger at that poor beast. So I took a moment to thank the cow for sharing its life and its meat. Then? I got this picture in my head of what to do. Instead of being upset by who couldn't eat the brisket, I decided to be grateful to those who could. First? I invited over my friend Leanna and her husband Mike. They took care of my cat while I was gone for 2 weeks in Ohio with my dad. I invited them over for dinner and they happily accepted. Then I started to think about the 15 pounds of brisket I'd have after I trimmed off the fat and it cooked down... I decided to take some over to my friends F and R. They have been so wonderful to me and supportive. We always have a wonderful time when we get together. Another friend just had a beautiful new baby... what new mom doesn't want someone to bring them fresh brisket and the trimmings for a dinner? I realized I could take the remaining brisket to work on Monday. Every single person at my job had to make a sacrifice because I was in Ohio for two weeks. My sister and I had talked about doing something nice, and I realized this brisket? And taking all the fixings for lunch? Would be just the thing. I didn't realize when I started cooking the brisket that it was going to end up being an exercise in grace more than an exercise in cooking.
I know that life doesn't always take the path I think it is going to take. When it doesn't? I get frustrated, probably because the unknown makes me nervous. Part of the idea of Tao is learning to go with the flow of life instead of fighting against it. And a big part of going with the flow of life? Is remembering to stop and listen and let grace in. When I do, I see the bigger picture. It turns out, this story wasn't about who didn't want the brisket, it was actually about who did. And I miss that sometimes when I get stuck in my own self and forget the bigger picture.
Being healthy means having grace when I think of others. When I take a moment of grace, I remember they are struggling as well. Often their issues are hidden and it is easy for me to jump to conclusions that aren't accurate. And as important as it is to have grace with others, having grace with myself is just (if not more) important. Not being harsh on myself, not being overly critical or perfectionistic is a way of remembering to have grace. If grace starts with me? It is easier to hold that space for others.
So, thanks 20lb brisket! Thanks for reminding me to be grateful... from the life of the cow? To the lives of the people I love and love me in return.
Peace,
MaryKate
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