Six of these women are fake. Three of them are heartbreaking.
See on www.upworthy.com
I love folktales, fairytales, comparative religion, comparative literature– just about anything heavily laden with symbols and deeper meanings. I first got into it when I realized that stories from different parts of the world were using the same symbols. How can that be? It must be coming from the same place, I decided.
Jung’s theory of the collective consciousness touches on it, but still… it doesn’t fully answer for me where it comes from– how have these symbols gotten their meaning? How did they come to hold that meaning in the collective consciousness in the first place?
Some animals make sense- their physical presence explains their meaning. The lion is very majestic and strong, so its symbol as king is easy to come by.
A cricket as being the voice of the conscience in the West or a symbol of luck in the East is a little less obvious. Myths place crickets to symbolize communication and heightened intuition. They call us to find our way through the dark via sound. This got cast as Jiminy Cricket in the West and “personified” as the voice of the conscience. Like that still small voice in the dark forest of our subconscious, the cricketsong calls us to slow down and listen. To take the time needed to nurture our relationship with the Divine within.
If you follow your conscience and deepen your connection to your intuition, you’ll have good luck and prosperity, I’d reasoned, always looking for a way to connect the two interpretations.
In China, the emergence of the cricket signaled time to plant the crops, and their leaving meant it was time for harvest. The Chinese deeply revere the cricket, and they were traditionally kept in little cages so that people could take them home and listen to them sing. They didn’t hear annoying chirps, but beautiful music.
Today, I heard this recording of cricketsong.
Go ahead a listen for a couple of seconds. I’ll wait.
Amazing, right? Talk about a literal example of how much beauty and solace is to be found if we just slow down and listen. It sounds like a heavenly chorus of angels. Beautifully soothing and inspiring. Turns out the Chinese are really on to something!
And now its got me thinking about the practice here in Arizona of exterminating crickets if someone has a scorpion problem… where do we eliminate love and light in our lives because we’re afraid of and emotional sting or the chaos of passion?
…"remember that when it comes to healing, our symptoms and negative behaviors don’t want to be fixed, they want to be heard. They want to have space. They want to be honored and explored in their complexity, and in their divinity. From this space of radical acceptance, unconditional love, and genuine curiosity, magic happens."
See on psychologyofeating.com
When the Solar Plexus Chakra isn’t functioning as it could, issues with self-esteem, fear of rejection, over sensitivity to criticism, self-image fears, fears of our secrets being found out, indecisiveness are likely to show up.
Shaming, authoritarianism, physical abuse, fear of punishment, dangerous environment, and age inappropriate responsibilities are all traumas that can knock the solar plexus off kilter.
In the Mood Management Monday Chakra Series, we do a plant meditation with an essential oil that supports the chakra, and do a coaching activity that addresses the issues brought up. If you can’t get to us in person, stay tuned for the upcoming web series– you’ll have to have your own oils, but you can benefit from the experience!
I posted this on FB in response to this article from HuffPo about some stores deciding not to ruin Thanksgiving.
Have a family member that leaves early or doesn’t come at all? Saying “anything you get me I’ll return” and sticking to it –even if its something really awesome that you wanted–will make that less attractive for them.
Because this is so out of control, it is pushing us to figure out what our values are, what we really want, and then live our lives accordingly, recognizing that its all connected. It doesn’t make sense for us as a nation to complain about the erosion of family values and all that entails– school shootings, etc– then leave a family holiday early- or not attend at all- to stand in line to buy stuff. Especially considering that buying stuff means someone else is also not with their families.
When I was still living in Memphis, there was a woman, Barbara I met through the International Education department that I bonded with immediately. Neither of us were stick figures, and often complained to each other about the unsolicited “helpful advice” we got from strangers. Both of us ate healthily and went to the gym at least 5 times a week, yet people made assumptions and felt compelled to shove metaphorical pamphlets in our hand about eating and exercise like those fundamentalists that stand on the corner on Bourbon Street and tell people the error of their drunken ways.
One of my friends, T, never got such advice, though she was one of the most unhealthy people I knew. I parked in the farthest parking lot so I could get at least a mile in just walking to and from my car, while she got several parking tickets a month for trying to park as close as possible to her classes. She would have driven her car into an elevator if they’d let her. She smoked 2 packs a day, had double cheeseburgers for dinner regularly and never exercised. But she was a size 5 or something, so no one ever gave her a lecture about how they were “concerned for her health”… she met the beauty ideal, and that was all that mattered.
One night at a party, someone started their health-preaching at Barbara and she replied, “My body is not a topic of conversation.” When they kept on, she walked away. I was stunned. And in awe. How did she do that??? As compelled as people were to give me health advice, I was compelled to tell them all that I already did– far more than they suggested. I did not sit on my butt all day eating twinkies, as they seemed to think. It is not a simple formula- bodies are complex and far more goes into metabolism than most people care to think about.
It bothered me deeply that people walked around thinking I was lazy. That they insisted on holding on to simplistic ideas that don’t really work in the real world. That they were judging me unfairly– based on a beauty standard that is only attainable with photoshop, rather than the health concern bullshit they claimed was their primary motivation. It really, really REALLY bothered me. So I was stunned that Barbara could shut them down that quickly and not set them straight. That she could take her body off the table completely and not even engage in the topic.
As much as I resented that my body rather than my writing, my painting, my cooking, or my intellect were the focus of so many people’s view of me, I couldn’t drop it any more than they could. I didn’t know how to take it off the table. Three years in hijab would teach me how many years later, but that’s another story for another post.
What Barbara understood all those years ago that I’ve just picked up recently is articulated beautifully by Michele Lisenbury Christensen in her work on the elements of Masculine and Feminine Power. To listen to her speak on the topic, check out the Shero’s School for Revolutionaries. Regardless of our sex (or gender for that matter) we need a balance of the masculine and feminine to be healthy and truly functional, yet our society is heavily swayed towards the masculine.
One of the paradigms she discusses is Providing (masculine) & Nurturing (feminine). This pertains to the way we relate to others. I would add that it also applies to how we relate to ourselves. In explaining, Michele asked: “Do I hold you as a problem to be fixed, or a person?
“Are resources needed here? Or listening? Holding?
She went on to discuss how distorted Providing is that mean voice in our head that provides perpetual commentary, criticism, and “suggestions for improvement”. I realize that it was my full identification with that mean voice in my head in my 20s that compelled me to engage with people in a topic I didn’t think should be brought up to begin with– my body. Interesting that for the decade I was in The Netherlands–where its considered incredibly rude to talk about someone’s body or presume about their personal habits– no one talked about my body and weight came off. I no longer felt fat, I no longer focused on the fat, so the fat went away. I often wondered- in this land where I was on the short side of average instead of a looming Amazon woman 3 heads taller than most other women– if I’d grown up there if I ever would have developed the body image issues that led to the weight gain. I thought I was fat, so I eventually became fat. A little weight gain in my pre-eclampsic pregnancy, and others began to agree with me. I took that on, and the weight came on even more. The harder I worked to get rid of it, the more my metabolism slowed and the more stubborn the weight was. Like the child told they will go nowhere losing all ambition, my body resolved to the fat label put upon it.
We are so trained to do something. All the time. With everything. We have great difficulty just being with something. It bleeds into every area of our lives, and damages our relationships and erodes our peace of mind. Our Puritan heritage preaches that its not okay to let things just Be. Its lazy. Its permissive. Its the door to chaos. Anarchy. Society will totally crumble if we’re not ever-vigilant. If we don’t judge often and quickly, and condemn accordingly. The papers are full of it, the news is full of it, and our heads are full of it.
Thing is, its a lie. A big fat hairy puss-filled seething boil of a lie. It doesn’t make us better. It deepens our shame and makes us worse. It is the thing that takes us away from what we want directly into what we say we won’t tolerate. Pounding on a treadmill because we think we’re fat will keep us fat. Loving our body and moving it in ways that bring us joy will bring us to Health.
Its work learning to be with your body. Learning to be with your emotions. Not analyze, not fix, not work on or improve, just Be. Whether or not you were raised in a religion, bad churching has informed every part of our society. We have this idea that if you’re doing it right, life will be easy. If your life has difficulty, then you must have done something wrong. I don’t know how that idea came from a religion with a guy being persecuted by both the fundamentalists of his own religion and the colonialist government in place to the point of dying the death saved only for traitors and terrorists, but it did. So we pathologize all sorts of things that are perfectly normal, and in fact necessary for our development. We think if we’re uncomfortable, there must be something wrong. We numb by analyzing, diverting attention, eating, drinking, -holicism– anything really to avoid just being in our bodies and just feeling our emotions.
Its caused a deficit of empathy in our society. We don’t want to feel bad, so we default to distorted Providing instead of Nurturing. We view everything and everyone– including ourselves and our emotions–as problems to be fixed rather than creatures to be held. Its backwards. Maybe there is a problem, maybe resources are needed, but if the connection isn’t made with the Being first, then the solutions applied will be oppressive rather empowering, and they will eventually backfire.
My body reminded me of this in its latest letter to me. Its voice is the exact opposite from the voice in my head: its loving and supportive. There is a gentle strength that is so soothing and enlivening. Though I was raised in an environment where we went to church 5 times a week, my relationship with my body is my first real experience with agape. At the time of the letter, I’d been focusing too intently on the symbolic meaning of things and it was getting stressful as I strove to figure it all out. “I appreciate your commitment to listening to me and learning my language” she said, ” but I am not a puzzle to be solved. I am not a problem to be fixed. Just love me. Listen to me, and we’ll figure it out as we go along. You’re smart and you’re listening. Don’t worry that you’ll miss it. I’ll let you know.”
Remember the same in your own walk and development. As you’re learning to listen and working on the relationship you have with your body and your emotions, release the drive to do something with what comes up– create space where it can just be first. So often, just allowing it to Be is the solution…
Six months after I divorced my last husband, he was married to a friend of mine. In one swoop, my social circle, activism, and religious home were taken from me. I was completely devastated. Particularly by the way it was handled by those I still thought were my friends. “I didn’t think it was my job to tell you” one friend said in an email, “You divorced him, so what difference does it make?” I was completely stunned. All the more because when this happened in my 20s, people had been so much more adult about it.
Oh, yeah. It happened in my 20s with my first husband. Not married 6 months after, but he seriously dated a dear friend of mine. Then another friend from high school- then another. It had been handled totally different by the dear friend and by our mutual friends. She & he came to me and asked permission. They’d kept running into each other and were developing feelings, but they’d pull the plug if I said so.
I lied and said I was fine with it. But it hurt. A lot. Especially since the things he’d always complained about me that made me feel so unlovable were things she had even more than I did.
Once they made their public appearance, my calendar was full with friends taking me out to dinner. “Honey, we love you so much and wanted you to find out from someone that loved you…” Each of them had the news I already knew. But I loved them for it. It was a difficult time, but I felt supported through it– by everyone involved.
Around 30, it happened again with my Dutch partner. They were not adults about it and made it much much harder than it needed to be. I laid it on their respective lack of character.
For it to have happened again in my late 30s was really devastating. This time it took everything with it- my friends, my spiritual tribe, my activism. That it was handled so poorly and callously when we were in a mystical spiritual community (I belonged to a Sufi group) and all old enough to know better made it feel particularly personal and hurtful.
It had been hands-down the worst relationship I’d ever been in. He reminded me of the shadow side of every relationship I’d ever had– my first husband, my partner in Holland, my mother, my brother, my grandmother, my father… and only their worst qualities and ways of making me out to be completely unlovable, worthless, bothersome and tedious. It was so bad, in fact, that I could not blame him for it, really. I had to take responsibility for attracting that into my life. I had attracted it. I had attracted it so intensely that it proposed to me, and I had accepted. I spent the entire relationship working to release whatever it was that had brought him to me.
I didn’t talk a lot about what I was going through to others. I was ashamed. I felt like I should’ve known better. I beat myself up for ignoring signs that seemed so obvious after we were married that I rationalized away before. Indeed, I spent the first 6 months of the marriage rolling the tape in my head of all the things I’d explained away or told myself that I was being too nit-picky or bitchy or unreasonable about. I didn’t talk a lot about what was going on, but those close to me knew that it was bad and that I was incredibly unhappy.
When you’ve had the 3rd major long-term relationship in your life end with them running off with a friend, you can’t help but ask “Why is this happening to me?? Again??!!?”
IT ALL STARTS WITH ME.
I’d learned enough about how our relationships with others reflect our relationships with ourselves to know where to look. I sat down and wrote how it was making me feel— Betrayed. Dishonored. Tossed-aside.
Where and how was I doing this to myself? Where and how was I devaluing the voice that warned? Where and how was I betraying those that I’m supposed to love and support that have done nothing but love and support me? Where and how was I putting myself in a bad situation by not believing those that I should?
RECOGNIZING WHAT WE DO TO OURSELVES
I found the answers in how I treated my emotions. They gave me good information– that is what they’re here for, but I didn’t listen. I didn’t honor them. In doing that, I betrayed myself. My emotions are what make me human- but I belittled and ignored them– if I didn’t outright scoff them. I did not honor the basis of my humanity. I misread them, then blamed them for things that had little to do with them.
I ignored them. A lot. Much like H had done to me. When they did catch my attention, I took swift and typically harsh punishment against them. They were locked up, pushed down, covered up, blown-up, buried. I did all kinds of things to numb them out when they were unresponsive to my strikes against them and attempts to starve them out.
I had to take responsibility for what I was doing to myself. I was in an abusive relationship with myself. My family may have taught it to me, but I had continued treating myself that way 2 decades after leaving home. I did that. To me.
Now I understood why I would see a child running away from me in dreams and meditation sometimes. Children live through their hearts, not their minds. To denigrate and beat up on my emotions was harming the Child Within me. No wonder life felt so flat! No wonder I hadn’t painted or written anything in so long!
MAKING UP AND STARTING OVER
The beautiful thing about our bodies and emotions are how loving and forgiving they are. At any moment, we can start over. They’re more than happy to begin again.
Not that there’s no mess to clean up , mind you. That remains. But there is no resentment on their part about the mess- only joy that the willingness to clean up is there. They have taught me what agape means.
I learned to apply the golden rule to my relationship with my emotions. I learned to listen to them. I learned so many things:
My emotions are not interested in kidnapping me and dragging me into a pit for weeks on end. My thoughts may be, but my emotions are not. They, like me, just want to be heard. They want to be acknowledged and honored. That is all.
BEING HEARD IS THE ROOT OF THE SURVIVAL INSTINCT
I’ve long been convinced that the desire to be heard is the beginning of the survival instinct. It is so powerful, that people will do all manner of silly things and follow atrocious leaders if only they feel heard. Being seen is not as powerful. Objects are seen. Think of the saying “Children should be seen and not heard.” Its painful and hurtful and scary– especially if you’re trapped in an abusive environment. Silencing objections is the most often employed tactic by abusers and other despots, so it makes sense that the need to be heard is so powerful.
Yet I wasn’t listening to myself. I didn’t give my emotions the opportunity to be heard. I talked about them, but I didn’t listen to their story. They were not allowed to represent themselves. I did not treat them as living beings, but as nuisances to be dealt with.
I treated them the same way I’d been so angry at others for treating me.
Recognizing this has changed my life and is the basis of the work I now do. It has helped me release so much baggage from my past, because I see that there is nothing someone has done to me as an adult that I didn’t do to myself first. The people around me are simply agreeing with me and treating me the way I treat myself. The Universe is a very agreeable place, after all.