Tag: relationships (Page 1 of 3)

The Truth About Control

The truth about control is widely misunderstood. When fear or any of its tributaries like concern, worry, hurt, and judgment have us, we don’t often jump to “how can I get in there with these uncomfortable emotions and experience them in my body?”

Instead of doing what actually works, we unconsciously try to change others so we can feel more comfortable. Then we get angry and resentful when they do this with us.

When we try to change how others think, speak, and behave, we are making an unconscious attempt to feel a sense of safety we don’t otherwise know how to experience.  Others are doing the exact same with us, but we are much more likely to be aware of their “control issues” than our own.

We think our emotional discomfort is due to “them” and give our power away until someday, things get painful enough to explore the reasons we feel so victimized. No matter who the villain is in our current story, the roots of these uncomfortable feelings date back to childhood.

If we explore those roots through traditional methods like psychotherapy, we may get good at understanding some of the whys, but we can only actually change these patterns through our bodies, which are storing the unresolved emotions.

The Roots of Rebellion

The truth about control, and our misperceptions of such, came onto my mental radar while hiking waterfalls today.

I have a vivid childhood memory of scaring the bejesus out of my mom while standing too close to the edge of one. It was rather symbolic of our relationship as I never stopped being an adventurer and she never stopped worrying about me.

My mom was never exposed to the emotional education I have been blessed with and did not know how to do anything else with her fear than allow it to control her – and therefore control me, when I was young enough for that option.

When I hit my teens, the more my mom worried and attempted to stop me from being me, the more rejected and stifled I felt, and the more I rebelled. I didn’t understand projection or our personality and communication differences, let alone the dynamics that were playing out. I had no other way to perceive her fears and the various ways she expressed them than as attempts to control me. I had the spirit of a wild stallion so that didn’t go very well for either of us.

I internalized her criticisms, which were about her relationship with herself, not me, but nevertheless wrecked my self-esteem for many years. I missed the countless ways she showed me she loved me and believed in me.

When I was in high school, no one could have predicted that my mom would one day be my closest ally, least of all me. I appreciated her efforts to keep me alive much more as I got older, when I was better able of viewing her concern as a form of love, and not control. We were one another’s greatest teachers in so many ways and when we learned to embrace out differences, a beautiful friendship emerged.

I learned the truth about control, and how to be me, despite what someone else wanted me to be for their own sense of security. I became the me that I wouldn’t be if she hadn’t been my mom, and I hadn’t so desperately strived for her approval and validation. She could not grant me either, because she couldn’t give them to herself.  The only person who can give us the approval and validation we crave, and permission to be unapologetically ourselves is us!

We didn’t learn this – or other important life navigation concepts that every human would benefit from – in school, because we were too busy memorizing information that only future historians and mathematicians would need. (Or, like me, we figured out early that we’d get a better education from life and cut school regularly to explore New York City.)

As a result, we may to this very day remember battle dates we learned in elementary school, but don’t know how to embody our emotions or express them without blame and hostility.

Most people don’t even realize they are at war with themselves, not others. If they do understand, they’re not at all sure how to bring about a ceasefire.

Thanks Mom! (And Dad!)

I’m extremely grateful my mom and dad gave me, among countless other blessings, an intense desire to cultivate a more loving relationship with myself. I wouldn’t have learned that any other way than to have first struggled with it! If I hadn’t endured such a harsh relationship with myself for so long, I wouldn’t now be teaching readers and coaching clients how be in harmony with themselves, others, and their pasts, right here in the now that we live in.

I think of my mom, and feel her love, every time I wander too close to the edge of a waterfall – or anything else I can’t resist exploring. Since she is enjoying life after life without her personality’s sense of chronic concern, I can usually imagine her smiling and cheering me on. She frequently sends an abundance of clear signs that she’s with me, and I am always incredibly grateful to receive them.
Today, as I meandered closer toward a waterfall on a path that was wild and slippery after several days of rain, I felt a rare sense of “no.” It was just before Mother’s Day, and I knew my mom was urging me to turn around. I listened.

Because I turned around when I did, I met five delightful people, two groups which had recently crossed paths. These instant friends invited me into their beautiful conversation about nature, blue zones, healthy eating and living, and not living so habitually on technology. One of them, who recently graduated college, was the only one in his school without a laptop. He wrote an entire movie script by hand! His sister is a musician. I can’t wait to experience their crafts because present people create magic.

We marveled at how most people don’t pause their hikes to connect with “strangers.” If we were most people, we wouldn’t now be friends.
As much as I have loved blogging and posting about the retreat and engaging in other creative projects this week, I am so glad I opted to get out in nature and live in the glorious moment today.
Thanks for all the nudges today, Mom! I miss and love you being here in the physical beyond words, but I deeply appreciate you letting me know so regularly that you’re with me in presence and love.

Happy Mother’s Day to you and all the loving mama bears out there, as well as those who are celebrating and/or missing their moms. If you fall into that last category, place your hands over your heart, take a deep breath into your belly and allow yourself to feel her love. ????Previous post: Dr. Sue Morter’s Retreat (Part One) ~ LOVE WITHOUT TRAFFIC

Manifesting Miracles

I’m a huge believer in synchronicities, magic and miracles; in fact, I experience them all the time. But THIS was almost unbelievable, even for my life…

The plan went like this: complete pre-publishing prep at a high-vibe, low-distraction area with a blooming spring, and finally get Love Without Traffic (the novel) into the world. As has been the case each and every time I’ve tried a plan of that nature, it failed spectacularly. At least this time, the list of unexpected distractions did not include any future ex-husbands.

They did include a loud construction project next door that sent me running for the hills. Literally. I packed up my frustration, filled some empty Kumbucha bottles with water and went on what turned out to be a miraculous hiking adventure.

I did some EFT (tapping) while driving, a tool I’d recently reconnected with while guiding a coaching client to higher self-worth with it. Within minutes, I felt calmer and remembered how often construction, despite its violating noise, has often served as a great guide. It has led to necessary life changes, special friendships and even a magical experience or two. I decided this experience was going to be one of those.

First, I needed to surrender the idea of publishing Love Without Traffic on Mother’s Day. Honoring my mom that way had been a special idea; trying to make that day suck less with something to look forward to had not been. What I clearly needed to do was hike, Wild-style, let my heart experience the core of the grief I’d been trying to outrun since August, and find new ways to connect with my mom.

Cheryl Strayed (author of Wild) wasn’t kidding. Hiking may have started as a construction coping mech and escape, but those mountains and waterfalls taught and healed me so much. They also led straight to that new connection with my mom that I’d been craving.

I’d experienced some amazing signs since her passing…but nothing like the almost unbelievable ones that began when I surrendered my self-imposed publishing deadline that day!

I ended up on what I thought was the wrong trail until learning that very day there is no such thing. At an overlook, a woman approached and offered to take my photo. I wasn’t in a social mood so I offered to take hers and began to move on when she also declined. A few steps later, I felt as if a force was pushing me back.

Okay. I’ll receive that photo.

I learned that just like me, this woman had meant to hike Craggy Pinnacle and accidentally ended up where we stood. A few hours of hiking with my new friend and a long soul-nourishing conversation later, I decided to check out my original destination.

Shortly after I reached the summit, a mom and three teens began their descent, leaving me with a breathtaking panoramic view, two men and a whole lot of quiet.

After a few moments of that, one of their phones began to play a Carpenters song from the 70s. It only took me three notes, since I was a Name That Tune master back in the day. It took the guy whose phone it was a little longer.

“What the?…” the guy asked, staring at the device.

“Can you make that happen again?” I asked.

“Probably not,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t know how it happened the first time!”

“That’s not your ringtone?”

“I’ve never even heard it.”

I don’t like to make assumptions based on appearances, but this guy was not someone I expected to tear up when I told him my mom, who passed on in August, has been sending my sister and I song signs – primarily from the Carpenters.

Even though I’m a big believer in signs and magic, the logical part of my brain still sometimes searches for explanations – usually for other people, who may not be as open.

“Do you have a voice activation thing on there?” I asked. “Maybe you said the song title.”

That would have made since we were, indeed, on “Top Of The World.”

He and his friend looked at one another and laughed. Neither of them had said a word since arriving on the summit.

The song was still inexplicably on his music app, so he played it while I filmed, and then the three of us got into a conversation about our travels.

“Where are you heading next?” Chris, the owner of the Carpenters-possessed phone, asked.

“Pawleys Island,” I revealed.

“Stop!” he exclaimed, with a look of utter shock on his face.

Not only had he heard of it, which would have been surprising enough since I hadn’t until a few days prior, but he’d also vacationed there throughout childhood. It had been the favorite destination for his own mother, who had passed on a few years ago. The very last spot she’d enjoyed her last vacation.

He teared up again, and told me I’d made his day.

Although no stranger to magic, I was in awe of that experience, even before learning he and his friend had also ended up at the wrong trail that morning, and arrived at Craggy when they did as a result – just like me.

A few weeks later, I shared my Asheville adventure stories with friends at a Floridian beach, as a live band began to perform at a restaurant across the street.

A cloud shaped like a heart formed in the sky as I heard them play a very unlikely cover song for that scenario. Once again, I could name that song in three notes.

That exact same song!

Thank you, Mom. And thank you, construction, for once again sending me where I was meant to be! I will publish Love Without Traffic this summer. Follow the journey on Facebook or Instagram.

https://www.facebook.com/lovewithouttraffic

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