I Wanna See You Be Brave

The other day, I watched "Welcome To Me," a new movie starring Kristen Wiig. To me, she can do no wrong, so I was really disappointed when I realized that she thought she was portraying a character with Borderline Personality Disorder, when, really, she was more Bipolar 1 with Histrionic Features. At one point, her character lamented how she used to be called Manic Depressive, then Bipolar, and finally, Borderline Personality Disordered. While it is true that Bipolar Disorder used to be called Manic Depressive Illness, Borderline Personality Disorder is a totally different beast. Personality Disorders are much harder (but not impossible) to treat, and they encompass a person's entire way of being, while Mood Disorders like Bipolar Disorder, respond well to therapy and medication, and tend to have more specific triggers. 

It really bothers me when Hollywood doesn't do her research, especially about psychology which is already so misunderstood. But, despite the diagnostic confusion, I still enjoyed the movie, and it got me thinking about who is really crazy in today's society. Here's a hint: it's not who you might think.

One of the things that always strikes me about characters who are supposed to be mentally ill is how honest they are. They say things that most people's filters would catch and eliminate, or at the very least, dilute. Yet, heroines like Kristin Wiig's "Alice," are not concerned with what others think of her. She proudly wears socks with flats and tells everyone who will listen that she uses masturbation as a sedative. A "normal" person would never do either of those things, and while I'm not suggesting that they should, I am saying that I think we take the desire to appear well-adjusted way too far.

 
What would it look like if we answered questions honestly, instead of how we think the other person wanted us too? How would it be to get up in the middle of an uncomfortable situation and leave, instead of being polite and sacrificing our inner feelings? What would happen if we said no when we wanted to, and didn't pay attention to what society tells us to do?

Recently, I went against tradition and turned down an invitation to a family gathering that I knew would be incredibly stressful for me to attend. It was a new behavior for me, and I'm sure there are some who are not happy with me because of it. But it's come to my attention that, even though I've improved immensely, I still have the tendency to swallow my own needs in favor of pleasing others. And, at the same time, I'm realizing how much of my past did not serve me well. And so, from now on, I'm vowing to make decisions that are right for me, even if I fear the responses of others. I want to let go of the negativity from whence I came, and step into the light of the life that I've built for myself. I have my own family now, one that I made from scratch, and I finally feel that I am where I belong. So, instead of bending over backwards to please people who never really took the time to know me, I am now allowing myself to be free.

Free to love.
Free to live.
Free to say no when I want to.
Free to walk away from negativity.
Free to be me.

And just maybe, free to wear socks with flats.

Love,
Hayley

Self Acceptance For The Rest Of Us

I just read a book, that will remain nameless, that really pissed me off. This book purported to be about self and body-acceptance, but was actually just about weight loss. Um, if you have to be a size tiny and undergo plastic surgery in order to accept yourself, you aren't quite there yet, Sister!

I'm not there either, but, at least I don't pretend to be. And sometimes, in moments when the sun is shining just right on my daughter's hair, I'm there. When I've succeeded at making my five-month-old baby laugh, I'm there. And when the right word just comes forth from my fingertips, I'm there too. But that's the thing about self-acceptance, it's not all or nothing. It happens in flashes, and in moments, sometimes so fleeting that you could almost miss them.

I've had my fair share of feeling the opposite of accepted. I remember being told to watch how many grapes I was eating, and to wait at least five hours between meals by well-meaning family members who were clearly not the most sensitive, or nutritionally-wise, people. I was teased over my weight, especially since I had the misfortune of a nickname, "Hayl," that rhymed with Whale. At that time, I didn't realize that to be called a whale was actually a huge, pun intended, compliment. It's hard to find a more intelligent, sensitive, and intuitive creature than Whale.

Interestingly, animal medicine teaches that Whale's message to humans is to love ourselves, something that we humans find incredibly hard to do. Whale also bridges two worlds by swimming underwater and breathing above land, teaching us to explore different forms of reality, and to bring consciousness to our dreams. The powerful sounds that whales make resonate healing and love to all within earshot. How different might my experience have been if someone had shared the true magic of Whale with me during those difficult times? How might I have become empowered, instead of ashamed, by being associated with this beautiful creature?

The good news is that it's never too late to have a happy childhood. And it's certainly never too late to learn to love yourself. But, as Anne Lamott says, loving yourself is an inside job. It cannot come from a certain weight, size, salary, house, car, romantic interest, or level of education. It can only come from within, and even then, it's a message that needs to be repeated about a zillion times before it can make any headway with TCV, (The Critical Voice). TCV is kind of like JTV, on all the time, and very expensive. Except, instead of costing money, TCV costs something much more valuable, your Self-Esteem.

And yet, when we learn to recognize moments of beauty, we solidify, amplify, and multiply them. When we can see ourselves as more than our Earthly bodies, we catch a glimpse of our true nature, which is astonishingly beautiful. Even if there are things about ourselves that we wish to change, it is essential to love those things first before real change can occur. Our wounds, our fleshy bellies, and our moments of impatience are the "Wholes"(see what I did there?) through which the light can enter.

I once read, that it is our very imperfections through which we can offer the most to the world. Whether by way of an imperfect weight or a dis-ability, or being a woman in an all male field, it's these perceived wrongs that make us the perfect balancing agent for a society that relies all too heavily on a mass delusion of perfection. Instead of tipping the scales even further toward compliance let's be different. Let's shine the light of love on those parts of us that society would have us believe are unworthy. Because as the great Martin Luther King, Jr. said,

Yours,
Hayley

To Share Is Human

I didn’t mean for it to happen. I only started reading "Fangirl" because I liked “Eleanor and Park” so much, and I had a feeling I couldn’t go wrong with Rainbow. (Yeah, in my head, we are on a first-name basis.) But then I found out that Cath’s, mom left her when she was 8, and that she never really recovered. That all of her relationships were affected, and that she was incapable of telling if a boy liked her, even when she was in college. And as if that wasn’t enough, I also found out that her Dad was bipolar, and that he used running to self-medicate. Oh, and, of course, she writes fan fiction, which I don’t do, but I do write for dontburnthepig.org, which is pretty similar, especially since I use Dave Matthew's lyrics in many of my articles.

It was all just too close. It reminded me of how many things in my life were affected by the fact that my Mom left me. And how I hate that so much. How it shouldn’t be that an action by such a careless person could define any part of me. I’ve spent such a huge part of my life thinking that there was something wrong with me, and later, that there is something wrong with her. Okay, so I still think the latter.

But then, I decided to pull a card, and got the Wisdom/Gratitude card, Number 11, in the Native American “Sacred Path,” deck, and it tells me to be grateful for the knowledge that I have and to give thanks for that knowledge to complete the cycle of receiving it. And at first, I got mad, because I cannot be grateful for the fact that my mother left me, even if it did play a role in making me who I am. But then, I read the larger story associated with the card, and the fact that the author was talking about more of a knowledge of the way that the Universe works, rather than knowledge of a single, small event. Well, small in the cosmic sense. Because when you are 8, and your mother leaves, how much bigger of a thing could there be?

But Jamie Sams was talking about the knowledge that there are all kinds of beings in this Universe, not just humans. And that oneness is where it’s at. Looking at it like that, I can almost see some kind of a greater good aspect of what happened to me. Like, if my mother had never left me, then I would never have done so much deep personal work, which means I could never have been the spiritual teacher, (I say that Very Lightly), that I am today. But then that makes me feel like I’ve been sacrificed for the good of the whole, and I don’t think that’s the point either. Somehow, it must be that this has been good for me too. Right?

It’s just hard to see the good when so much of my life was filled with emotional pain. When, to this day, I struggle with an addiction to sweets and buying jewelry online. When I couldn’t tell my husband that I loved him until waaaayyyy after he told me, and I couldn’t tell him that I believed that we were meant to be a couple, until we’d been together for a decade.

But then, I have to look at the growth and how far I’ve come. Even that dismays me though, because I always wonder how far I would be if I’d had a better starting point. As if life assigned me the inside lane, which is the hardest to run because of the tight curve. But, I know it doesn’t really work like that. Or, at least I hope it doesn’t.

So, for today, I will be grateful for what, and who, I have in my life. I will listen to the cards and be thankful for the understandings that I have, even when, at times, those understandings has been painful. I will trust that everything that has happened in my life was supposed to happen, just as it did. That my experience was not a mistake. And, above all:

Love,

Hayley

From Reluctance to Reverence: A Yogini's Journey

Eight years ago, when my husband finally convinced me to try yoga, I approached it with serious skepticism. Yoga, I thought, was for those who could not handle the weight and interval training that I was accustomed to. At that time, my yoga days masqueraded as my “easy” days. I had no idea that yoga would, one day, be the catalyst to a grand change in my internal landscape.

Since I was a teen, I’ve always exercised religiously. At times, I’ve even equated going to the gym as my version of going to temple, minus the yarmulkas, Torahs, and conservatively dressed devotees. While my methods for shaping my body have varied, (swimming, spinning, zumba, personal training, running, hiking, biking, etc) my goal was always the same. To lose weight. Only in the last decade have I dropped my preoccupation with appearance, replacing it with a desire to feel healthy; physically, emotionally, and spiritually. But it wasn’t until after I had my second child, four months ago, that I decided to take a leap, and make yoga my primary practice.

I’ve always known that good yoga is supposed to affect more than just the physical being. That it is designed to move a person into an alternate state of consciousness, where expansion and contraction affect more than just muscles and skin. But recently, the intellectual awareness that I have has started to integrate into my being, sinking lower, further, toward my heart. It’s as if something inside me has clicked, and the emotional and spiritual benefits of yoga have started to present themselves to me. I can’t take credit for discovering any of what I’m about to explain. All I’ve done is practice yoga daily. The rest has settled upon me like dust on a ceramic cat. Or a cat doing yoga.

Okay, enough cats. For now. 

Some of the realizations that have entered my mind focus on generalization, or, the way in which the qualities that I am seeking through my yoga practice spread to other parts of my daily life. For example, I now understand that finding balance in Half Moon pose will affect the way that I balance activities throughout my day. That seeking stillness in Warrior Three will allow me to quiet my emotions when a triggering situation presents itself. That being upside down in Shoulder Stand will help to expand my perceptions to be able to look at things from a different viewpoint. And that garnering strength in Three Legged Dog will bring forth an ability to set boundaries in relationships, and say no when I need to. I don’t know why all of these insights are so surprising to me. Perhaps, it’s my tendency to compartmentalize and put everything neatly in boxes, each issue in it’s place. But learning that everything is, in fact, connected, in ways that I can barely comprehend, has a calming effect. Maybe I always had this knowing deep down, the way that the Moon knows that the Sun loves her. Why else would he dim himself, each night, to let her shine?

Other lessons have centered around the idea of letting go, and the paradoxical nature of doing less to experience more. When I relax into a Seated Forward Bend, it’s about letting my muscles release, which unexpectedly assists my body by improving various functions, including circulation, nervous system performance, and illness prevention. In fact, I’ve now come to expect that if I feel as if I did “nothing” in my practice, my body will respond by releasing fluids and expressing toxins. Where “No Pain, No Gain,” used to be my motto, “Let Go and Flow,” is now my mantra.

It’s astonishing, really. The change that this physical practice has had on my mindset. Instead of pushing to get to the next level, or forcing my will over various situations, I have learned, or, I am learning to believe in the old saying that all will be well in the end. And that if all is not well, it is not the end.

Incidentally, I still don’t consider yoga a workout. Instead, I consider it a work-in, one that I practice in a sacred space, complete with all of nature’s elements. I have a miniature rock garden, (Earth), a window, (air), a water fountain, (water), and a candle, (fire), all of which ritualize my experience, helping to bring me to a place of peace, and well-being. In turn, I aspire to recycle those positive feelings, sending them outward into the beyond where they are free, like the wind beneath a butterflies’ wings, to perform Mitzvahs.

A Stitch In Time

The impossible has happened. Turns out, I was... wrong about the house. You know, the grey one with white trim that I thought we were supposed to move into? No one really told me I was wrong. Rather, I looked in the mirror one day and heard, "Start looking for houses." And I protested with, "But you said..." and all I heard, again, was "Start looking for houses." And so I did. That day. And with a quick internet search I found the house that we now have a contract on. 

Don't get me wrong. I love our new house. It's absolutely perfect for us in every way. It has an indoor pool, (I KNOW, RIGHT?!) and all the bedrooms we need. Plus an open floor plan and pretty floors. I even love the colors on the walls, which means I won't be 9 months pregnant and paint-supervising, (with a mask on, of course). It's near-perfection in a home, and by some grace of God, we can afford the loan.

And still, part of me can't get over the fact that I "was told" about the other house. 

And so, as over-thinkers do, I've come up with a variety of sensible reasons to explain this mishap. Maybe the Universe just wanted to hold me off for awhile, make me think that the house was already chosen so that I didn't find my dream home too early. Interestingly, the home we are buying did experience a recent price-cut, so waiting wasn't a bad thing. Or, maybe, I really was supposed to focus on one thing at a time. First, getting our house on the market, and then, finding a new home. As it is, we still have to wait for our house to sell before we can make the move official (which is killing me by the way, but more on that later).  Or maybe there is a reason that I won't ever get to know. Maybe, (gasp!) I'm not supposed to know everything.

I read a great article this morning about a yoga teacher who learned not to despair when, in the beginning, no one showed up to his classes. He learned that the acts of getting himself to the studio, preparing the lighting and music, and rolling out his mat were all important practices. He further learned that waiting as no one showed, and feeling disappointment, (and I'll just add shame in there, even though he didn't mention it), were also practices, and that they taught him humility, patience, and equilibrium. I remember when I was first starting my psychology practice, I worked with this idea. I would show up at the office that I rented and stay there for the hours that I was allotted, even if I had no scheduled sessions. Just being there was my practice. Eventually, I got so busy that I would relish a free hour, but in the beginning, all I had was hope, and a twig of trust that might have broken if coughed upon .

So, what if the same lessons are being presented to me now? What if I am being asked to take my ego out of the situation and stop looking at what, or who, is right and wrong? What if it is being pointed out to me that although I may be a conscious individual, I am still human, living on Earth, and therefore, poised for all kinds of detours in my chosen path?

And let us not forget the matter of actually selling our house, which is certainly an exercise in patience, trust, humility, and extreme mood-swings. It's been less than two weeks, but stories of houses selling in one week in our neighborhood raised my expectations, a tiny bit. I just want to have it done so we can move, and I can enjoy the rest of my pregnancy without such a huge change looming ahead of me. But I can almost hear the answer now: 

"What makes you think you can enjoy yourself there when you can't do it where you are now? Show us what enjoyment looks like. Take your mind off the move, and it will happen."

This is the kind of passive aggressive message my mind loves to taunt me with. And what makes me even more mad, is that I know she is right.

Last night, I had a two second dream that my husband was shouting, "We got the offer!!" It was only a dream, but for now, it will have to suffice as padding for my twig of trust. Meanwhile, I will try my best to enjoy these last few (weeks?) at this house, and I will be grateful for my lessons in humility and patience. They may not be the flashy and fun lessons that we all love, but, they are just as important; for they just may be the key to keeping one foot in both worlds.

Patiently,

Hayley

Country Road Take Me Home

It's a boy!!

We knew that though, didn't we? You would think that this thing of trusting myself, or my intuition, or God, or the Universe, or whatever you want to call the voice that I hear when I'm extremely calm, would be easy. But it's not. Still, I'm working on it because I believe it's a lot better than walking around with fear and anxiety about what will happen next in my life. Plus, I've always believed that the more you trust, the more information will be shared. And it seems that's exactly what has started happening to me.

The latest message that I've received is that we are to move around October. That we will sell this house, and move to a house, a grey house, that’s within walking distance of an athletic club with an indoor/outdoor pool! It was said that the house has two triangle roof structures with a flatter structure in-between. I was told that Gabriel wants to be born in that house, (I’m really hoping this was figurative), and that I needn't worry about how we will afford it, or the fact that it's not yet for sale, that, indeed, everything will work out. Oh, and that I need to stay out of the way of the process. Like little old me would ever be in the way? Ha.

Mind you, this message came after months, or maybe even years, of me having the same dream every night and not “getting it.” The dream was that I was moving into my dorm room at the University of Miami, except that I could not find it. Of course the dream had variants, but basically it was the same. Every. Single. Night. I even talked to two therapists about this, and none of us could see the forest through the trees. It was about moving! Sometimes, a cigar is just a cigar. Since I realized that we needed to move, the dream has, mercifully, stopped, and I no longer feel like I’m living the movie “Groundhog Day.”

A few days after I realized what this recurring dream really meant, I got the message about where we were to move. The day after that, my husband and I drove to said athletic club, where we both noticed a street that curved upward and decided to turn on it. After a fork in the road, we decided to go left, and 3 houses in, on the right, was the house I had imagined. Interestingly, this is exactly how to get to our house now. Turn left, and three houses down, we are on the right. And just as the message warned, it was not for sale.

In fact, with some research, we were able to find that the house sold just shy of a year ago. That scares me because I don’t understand why someone would sell it so quickly, unless they were “flipping” it, in which case it could end up way out of our price range. “Don’t worry about the cost,” they had said. Easier said than done.

The fact that it sold recently was helpful in that we got to see the listing, and what it looks like inside. It has 4 bedrooms, 2.5 baths, and a huge great room with vaulted ceilings and skylights, a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace, and a completely open design. The bedrooms have carpet, which I’m not crazy about, and the bathrooms looked a little small, but overall it is a beautiful house, and yes, it’s walking distance to an Olympic-sized swimming pool!

One of our main worries was how we would sell our home, since every time we’ve had it appraised, it came up short of what we needed. But after a new realtor came and did her research, she concluded that we could list it for more than we owe. Phew! And so, we are having our roof cleaned and our lawn prettied, and then listing our home. Presumably, so that we can move into the new digs that Gabriel picked for us.

I can see how this sounds crazy. And it seems that everyone else in the world finds a house first, and then sells theirs. But if we were to truly believe in the spirit world, why would this be crazy at all? Do we really think that we know more than all of the unseen forces out there? I certainly don’t. So why not trust a voice, a vision, or a spirit guide, who tells you something useful?

I’ve always loved Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes’ work. She is a renowned author, Jungian analyst, curandara, and storyteller. It is through her recording, “Mother Night: Learning to See in the Dark,” that I learned to view messages from the other-world as commonplace. She calls them the big “so what”? Not to take away from the importance of the message, but to illustrate the normality of the unseen world, and to validate that these messages are available to anyone who is willing to listen. I am no more special or psychic than any other sentient being, I just have my ears wide open.

What will I do if I sell my house and this other house still isn’t on the market? I will ask for guidance, and I will receive it at the necessary time. The process will unfold with me having minimal involvement. This, by the way, is the exact opposite to how I was raised to do things. In the past, I would have already seen 25 houses, and gotten my heart broken while each one sold, while I’m still waiting for the roof guy. I already know, the road that neurotic behavior takes me down. This time, I'm following a new path by practicing patience and trust, and I believe that this road will take me home.

Blessings,

Hayley

Freedom Doesn't Come From A Bottle

Today is the day I've been waiting for! I finally got the call from my doctor's office, the one that was supposed to confirm my intuition, and tell me that I am, in fact, having a healthy baby boy. This call was supposed to ease my mind, and give me a reason to go out for dinner. Well, can you guess what happened? 

No, I wasn't wrong, and shame on you for thinking so! 

The test did not work on me. Apparently, I don't have enough fetal matter in my blood, whatever that means, so no results are available. Seriously?! After two weeks of waiting, this is what they call to tell me? And, of course, it wasn't the brand-new, not-exactly-tried-and-true test that was at fault, it was my blood. My fetal-lacking blood. 

The nurse suggested that I redo the test, and, initially, I agreed. But then I got to thinking. Why, if I believe in myself, am I putting myself through this stress? Why would I make another trip to the doctor's office, have more blood drawn, and wait another two weeks for results that I don't actually need? I mean, as far as the gender goes, he's either a boy, or a girl, and truthfully, I'd be thrilled either way, even if I would be a little confused about why I was initially "told" he is a boy. And, as far as testing for genetic abnormalities, that too does not matter to me. Either way, I'm going to love this baby, so why do I need to know now, exactly what I will be dealing with in 6 months? Plus, I hear there are false positives with these tests, and, if my first try produced no results, God only knows what a second try would offer. 

So, I decided, that today is the day that I take back my power. I realized that I can say no to all of this. I don't have to get up early tomorrow to go have blood drawn. Instead, I can sleep in, and just enjoy the little movements in my belly. I can continue to build a relationship with Gabriel, by just being here with him, and I can teach him about trusting oneself by refusing to let a test result determine my mood. Plus, I can show him about living with flow, the art of paying attention to the many cues around us every day. In fact, these inconclusive results weren't the first clue that maybe this test was unnecessary. There was also some confusion at the doctor's office about this procedure, and although it got resolved, the lack of smooth flow stuck in my mind. 

So, today, I am free. I don't need a medical procedure to tell me what my soul already knows. There is a beautiful, healthy, baby boy growing inside of me, and I am so damn lucky.

Hayley