Judgement

"My choice is what I choose to do

And if I'm causin' no harm, it shouldn't bother you.

Your choice is who you choose to be

And if you're causin' no harm, then you're alright with me."

-Ben Harper

     This morning I woke from a vivid dream. One of those epiphany-type dreams in which the 'light bulb' truly appears. It's been a long time coming, but the words to express how I feel about judgement may have finally found their way to my fingertips.

In my dream, someone I know, someone real, was working in a coffee bar in another state. (They would NEVER work in a coffee bar, but after all, it was a dream). We had not seen each other in years. I was only slightly reserved in approaching them, as our last parting had been less than tender. I dropped my nerves and ran up to them, arms outstretched for a hug. They blocked the hug, looked at me with disdain, said they had to go, and literally took off running. I was stunned. Worse, as they ran, they called over their shoulder, "I'll be back," but although I waited, they never returned.  PS, I don't even like coffee.

In the dream, I was furious, hurt, embarrassed.  Judged. Ouch.  Especially given the fact that, in real life, this person had been in a vulnerable, explosive, easily-judged situation many years ago, with complete, utter, no-questions-asked, non-judgmental support from me. Who, of all people, did they think they were?!

I should mention that I enjoy casually dissecting my dreams, usually finding reasonable explanations for the strange things that occur in them. Sometimes they are fueled by carbs close to bedtime...I call them Ice Cream Dreams. Other times, it's just the busy work of my brain, clearing out space for the new stuff I try to jam into it. But sometimes, an issue that I have been Rubik's Cube-ing for a long while becomes miraculously clear during my dreams. As with this morning, I wake up almost wanting to shout with joy, the clarity is such a gift!

No, I certainly don't think waking from this dream will find me being less judged by this person. They are on their page, and I am on mine, as it should be. Instead, I feel like my feelings of being judged in general, by anyone, have somehow been processed. In using this individual to depict the issue, my brain manufactured this dream and made it crystal clear why judgement, especially from this one person, hurts and nags at me so much. Because I was once an absolute pillar of non-judgement for them, it's all the more painful that this is the choice they've made in looking at my life. As I used to say when I was little, "It's not fair!" 

In massage school, I took a course called Personal Potential with Beth Bilyak. Eye-opening class; peaceful, lit-from-within, ninja-dynamo of an instructor. One of the subjects was discerning Judgment from Assessment.

As evolving humans, we need Assessment. It's that instinct that tells you whether or not a person or situation is a danger to you. It's not as critical to humans as it used to be...we are not, after all, being pursued by Saber- Toothed Tigers during the course of our days...but still a valuable survival tool. 

Judgment is different. It contains some components of assessment; you look at a person, learn a little about them. The shift happens when you begin to judge, to compare, to keep a person in a certain category for any number of criteria. Judgment can separate, alienate, foster hate. Judgement can truly hurt.

It couldn't be more plain, more clear, more simple than this: We are all human beings. Made up of the same stuff, from the inside out. The choices we make, if they aren't harming anyone, shouldn't matter in the least. I even remind myself from time to time that it's their choice to judge, and even though I don't like it, it's judgmental of me to say so! Exactly who are we to judge...anyone? 

I urge you to begin a ripple. A ripple of Non-Judgment. Start small; it's surprisingly difficult at first! Look at someone near you, and simply see them. Do not be critical of their hairstyle, their clothing, their lunch choice, their car. Just notice them, and recognize them for who they are; a member of your race, the human race.

"Once in a golden hour,

I cast to earth a seed,

And up there grew a flower,

That others called a weed."

-Alfred Tennyson

Compassion

What comes to mind when you think of the word compassion? I checked the dictionary and, according to Webster, compassion means deep sympathy. 
With all the stuff we see in the world today, it's easy to remember a time when you felt compassion. Natural disasters, illnesses and deaths, crimes against humanity...we feel for those affected. Our sympathy is aroused and we feel like we want to help, somehow, some way. We often act on that desire to help, to give back. We travel to affected areas and offer up our time or services. We volunteer to help those that can not help themselves for whatever reason. Perhaps in our jobs we work tirelessly to improve laws or boundaries or protection. Maybe we work to help people simply feel better. 
We have seen what our fellow man is experiencing and, to a lesser degree, we feel it ourselves. We are compassionate.
Recently, compassion was the topic of a Weight Watchers meeting I attended. We were asked if we thought we were compassionate people. Most of our hands went up. In my work, I have to be in touch with my compassionate side in order to help my clients feel their best, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I listen to their concerns with my full concentration and spend our sessions showing them how much I care and how much I want to help.
Next at the meeting we were asked if we were just as compassionate with ourselves. I can tell you, hardly any hands went up this time. We looked around the room at one another, uncomfortable, pondering. What's this about? We all feel that we have compassion, but when it comes to our own self, no? 
Wow.
The leader gave an example. Your friend falls off the diet wagon and eats an entire bag of Oreos. She calls you and tells you about it. You do...what? Judge, berate and criticize our friend for her mistake? Of course not! We gave our answers...don't let this little bump in the road stop you from achieving your goals, we all make mistakes, be a little more careful with your calories for the next few days, maybe take an extra walk this week. Compassion, in other words.
Then the leader asked how we treat ourselves when we fall off the wagon. I can tell you that compassion was not the word! We all agreed that when we make the same missteps as our peers, while we might comfort and support them compassionately, we beat the heck out of ourselves! Now, does that seem fair? Not so much.
Our leader really got me thinking. I spare barely an ounce of compassion for myself, saving and spending almost all of it on others. Not fair to me, certainly, but not fair to others in my life either! Think of how much more help I could be to others if I worked harder to treat myself equally as well, with just as much compassion. Give myself the pat on the back, the words of encouragement, the benefit of the doubt. Just think of it! 
If you are in the business of compassion, if you are a person who feels for those around you, then start with YOU. Start with YOU! Love yourself as you love others, and you'll love others better for it. Save some compassion for your own sweet self, and watch the ripple of compassion multiply. It has to start somewhere! Why not with you?

The Reminder

From time to time, when we go through droughts of creativity, periods of sadness, or times of dissatisfaction, we often throw a bit of a pity party. We tend to look for someone or something to blame. We search with increasing frustration for the answer, the happiness, the next successful project. We lose equilibrium and sleep, gain stress and wrinkles.
We're going about it all wrong.
When these little bumps in your path arise, hit the pause button.  Take these little blips as reminders. I find that when a project isn't coming out like I have imagined it, I have a choice. I can force it, or I can take the reminder. When I look at a full day of clients on my schedule, and suddenly have cancellations or no-shows, I can get upset, or I can take the reminder. When I am out in the world, wondering why people can't think like I do, I can give out angry finger gestures or I can take the reminder.
What is the reminder?
The reminder tells you to be patient. To set your struggles aside for just a little bit and look around you. What can you see? You might see other projects you've successfully completed. You might see evidence of past peaceful, happy times.  You might, for just a small time, look at the world in new ways. You might realize that you have been going non-stop for far too long, and that your time for stopping to smell the roses is long overdue. You just might recognize the need to take some good old-fashioned care of yourself.
Don't freak out when the painting isn't just right! Don't stress when the words just won't form brilliant paragraphs! Don't go off the deep end when your day isn't as booked as your checkbook needs it to be!
Take the reminder...and rest.
Take a walk. Take a nap. Watch a movie. Catch some rays. Read a book slightly below your normal reading level. Play with some kids or puppies. Chat with a friend. Kiss someone you love. When you take some time to be open to the little things, which, as we all know, are the big things, your being slows down and opens up. Your  senses take in things in completely different ways. Your guard is down, your enthusiasm is up. And guess what happens then? The answers sneak up behind you and lovingly make themselves known. Your projects turn out more gloriously than previously imagined. The next full work day you have will be one of your best and most rewarding. Your ideas will astound you and all those they reach. You will amaze.
Love yourself. Be as compassionate with yourself as you are with everyone you meet. Take the reminder when it comes, and witness the ripple.

Spring CleaRing

Spring is here! Some of us may be feeling it more than others, but the notion that the season has changed is sometimes enough to change your whole outlook.  If you haven't yet felt the weather effects, tap into the things you can do to nurture that Spring feeling within.
* Respectfully bid farewell to Old Man Winter. Thank him for the extra water he's left behind, for hosting the winter holidays, and providing us with beautiful snowy scenes. Do this as you joyfully bury your sweaters, jackets, mittens, scarves and boots deeeep in your closet. A slightly devious smile is welcomed during this process.
* Start your Spring Cleaning. I have somewhat of a problem with 'forced cleaning' but I will tell you that Spring Cleaning feels phenomenal. When it's done, that is. Put your hair up, choose a long, jazzy playlist, open the windows and go to it. Mentally make plans on how you'll take a shower, light some candles, pour some wine and check out your new clean place from your favorite comfy chair that evening.
* Check out March Madness. Even if basketball isn't your thing, the hype and excitement of this one-and-done college tournament never fails to produce some great human interest stories. No special snacks or attire required, although a sports bar does heighten the experience somewhat.
* Get out in the Sun. A healthy dose of Vitamin D, delivered the old-fashioned way, never fails to provide a pick-me-up. If it's still chilly, bring a blanket. Breathe deeply and clear out those winter cobwebs.
* Start something new. Spring brings to me a feeling that something fresh is just around the corner. I always seem to want to do something different. I have asked a friend to help me refresh my high school Spanish, and I have several new Zombie dolls dancing across the new greening landscape of Spring.
* Meditate. If you get a little freaked out by the notion, rest easy. Meditation doesn't have to be so serious! Just taking a few moments to reflect on what you are grateful for, while drawing in deep, cleansing breaths, will tweak your soul, guaranteed. Why not do it in the sunshine?!
* Share some Love and Kindness.  Not many things feel better than sharing your gifts with others. Call a friend, gift someone a little Spring bouquet, do a small unexpected favor for someone you love. Give random hugs. Smile at any person who looks your way. Spread the ripple of joy, people!
Spring has Sprung!

Awareness

                                                             Hugging Trees- Avon, CT

Who knows when it is in the growing-up process that we become aware of exactly what it is we're aiming at. We've been children and then teens, being cared for, instructed, guided and told what to do. When does that shift occur? The time when we suddenly draw our line in the sand...the line that says 'from here on out, I am aware of my choices and I want to do or be (fill in the blank)'.
Certainly there is no defining time when awareness shows up. It's not calendar-based; sixteen=driver's license, eighteen=vote, twenty-one=legally bar-hop. There isn't a specific age when parents or mentors or teachers can tell an individual, "Get ready...it's almost Awareness Time".
That's the enigma, right there. If you aren't aware, then you can't see that it's time to hone your awareness skills!
So I propose this...awareness instruction should begin early, early, early! Parents...teachers...leaders of any sort...help begin the cultivation of awareness in young people. Ask the questions! Nurture the curiosity! Feed the creativity! Fatten the observation skills! Help children see. Really see!
Of course, then it becomes obvious that we have a 'chicken or the egg' kind of thing happening, right? I mean, if you haven't grown up with awareness, how on Earth are you going to cultivate it in others? The answer is...Start Small. One tiny awareness exercise at a time. Here are two to try;
---Next time you are going to eat something, turn off the tv, put down the magazine, find some solitude. Sit at your table with your food. Take the first bite and...make it last. Think about what this food is doing for your body. What does it feel like in your mouth? Temperature, texture, aroma, flavor, spice, noise; really describe your mouthful to yourself.
---On your next ride to work, look around. You take the same route each and every day, but I bet many of you get to work on autopilot, not even remembering a thing about the journey. Try opening your eyes. The sky in early morning or evening, a hawk over a field, a van packed with construction workers, a woman in the SUV parade applying her make-up while on the phone and slurping Starbucks, the patterns made by the cars streaming by you, new billboards, kids with giant backpacks walking to school; illustrate and color your ride...open your eyes to the itty-bitty occurrences that make up everyday miracles.
As I get older, I become more grateful each day for the awareness I have, and for the drive to grow it. I'm observant, sure, but awareness is more. It's not only seeing, but feeling, intuit-ing, wondering. I wonder at stuff, about stuff. About what people think, feel, what makes them tick. This wondering has rippled through my life in many ways...in love and friendship, in work and creativity, and with everyone I meet. When you approach life with such a desire to truly see everything, to move in an aware way, the things that follow will stun you with their brilliance. What appears will absolutely blow your mind.
Perhaps the ultimate understatement lies in the trite phrase 'Life is Short'. It so is! Time flies by faster and faster. Don't you want to see some stuff along the way? I know I do.

The Student was Ready

When my husband Rick talks about the beginning of his career, he often presents a wonderful quote. It's a Buddhist proverb that says, "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear."
When I started massage school in Connecticut several years ago, I knew I was in the right place. I had visited the very same school many years prior to that and fell in love with it, but the circumstances of that part of my life didn't allow for me to enroll. I know now that I wasn't ready at that earlier point. And when I was finally able to begin my courses in massage therapy, I just knew that it was the perfect new path for me to take.
Since I was working full time and going to school part time, 3 evenings a week, my time at school was broken up into 5 'semesters'. With each passing week my passion for my future career grew. I loved my classmates, my classes and the work. In the third semester, we had a class called Energetic Foundations. I was very excited for this class, and more than a little curious. When I told my 'science and math' son about it, he scoffed, saying, "There's no scientific basis for that." I had no idea if there was but I couldn't wait to start it.
The time came for the first class. At our school, we sat on pillows on the floor in a circle. As we entered the room, there was a serene centerpiece in the middle of the circle. We settled in and met our instructor, Richard Harris. There were the opening greetings, remarks, sharing, and rules and regs. Then we got into the subject.
You know how in movies when a person achieves a goal or makes a profound discovery and the soundtrack may play a Hallelujah chorus? That's exactly what happened. As soon as Richard began showing us about energetic work, I knew that 'the teacher had appeared'. From that very first class, I knew the major focus of my massage work would be with energy work of some kind. It comes out of me naturally and now here was this guy telling me how to direct it for the good of my clients! It was then and remains to this day my favorite class.
Fast forward awhile. I have been working as a massage therapist for 2 years now and my love for and interest in energy work has only grown. And this past weekend, I had the privilege of teaching my very first energy workshop! I wondered if I'd be able to teach this class in a way that would help them understand. Could I get across to them and help them learn what is built into me already? Turns out I could. And I did. It was a gratifying and energizing day.
Looking back at past experiences, it's easy to see how this ripple grew. I used to love playing teacher and I loved school.  (Well, grammar school anyway.) I raised my children, which is teaching every day. Having a spirited and involved group of classmates to go through school with was vital. Being married to a brilliant teacher lays terrific groundwork for the type of exchange necessary between students and instructors.  Even the experience I gained while teaching 2-year-olds for a year came in handy! And landing in a classroom with an instructor who knew his stuff, was passionate about his subject, and gifted in getting his message across to students, was an especially valuable gift.

Thanks to the special teachers throughout my public school years, the many unofficial mentors I've learned from, my bright and curious kids, my beloved CCMT classmates, my remarkable husband, a pack of toddlers, and Richard Harris. Being blessed with all these experiences and guides assures me that this energetic ripple of students and teachers will never end.

News of Life and Death

Life and death...perhaps the original ripple. A life begins, miraculous in itself. The ripples begin, circling out and out and out. Eventually, the ripples begin to return, in and in, smaller, tighter closer. The miracle of life, in this incarnation anyway, ceases.

Life. Especially new life!  Oh so amazing! All those cells dividing to head to a stunning sum; a breathing, wriggling, snuggly irresistible creature arrives. New life has such a pull for me...as time goes on and as my own children have passed into adulthood, babies are just such a confirmation of hope and faith. Plus they just smell so yummy!
Death though, now that's another animal entirely. In our culture, we fear death and all it entails...loss, sadness, uncertainty, pain of all kinds. No less miraculous, just much tougher to grasp.
Yesterday, I had the privilege to receive news of both new life and death. Yes, you heard me, privilege. In this world of news-at-your-fingertips, we forget that news is shared. Someone thinks 'this is valuable information...I'll share it with you.' Well I certainly got my share yesterday.
Yesterday morning before I started work, I took a few minutes to check out Facebook. I came across News Gift Number One. Friends of ours recently welcomed their new daughter into the world, and they'd put a slide show of her home birth into an album which appeared on Facebook yesterday morning. Let me tell you, there are few words to describe it. Mom labored and gave birth at home, as naturally as could be. And though Mom had shared her experience with me already, while I held their 2-week-old sweet pea in my arms, the black and white photos of their family in these tender hours really told the story. 'Beautiful', like 'awesome' and 'amazing', have become such trite and overused words, but it was truly a thing of simple and emotional beauty. I was privileged to be able to witness it and celebrate the joy of a new life.
Later on that day, I received News Gift Number Two. This time though, I received news of the end of life. A young life. Ouch. Much more difficult to see this as a privilege.
Early this summer, in the midst of a very hectic day of massage, I looked over the client information form of my next client. The things I immediately noticed...Her unusual name. Her age. 14. And a glaring statement at the bottom of the page. Bone Marrow Transplant. As someone once said, "Hold up, wait a minute!" Took myself a few seconds and approached the only 14-year-old in the lobby. Reached my hand out and took hers. Introductions were exchanged and so began one of the most impactful hours of my life.
We headed back to my massage room. I explained what this type of massage is all about, since it was to be her first professional massage. Then I asked about the bone marrow stuff. She was matter-of-fact and clear. Diagnosed with cancer at 4. Bone marrow transplant coming up in a few weeks. Yow.
We had our session. Her body relaxed very well for a person unused to that kind of touch. Through my hands, I sent every positive message of gratitude that I had within me. She loved her massage, and as with any client, I loved helping her to feel better in some way.  At the end of our session, I gave her a gift certificate that I'd received...I told her to feel free to come back before her procedure and that I'd be happy to help her relax before the big event. She and her Mom were very grateful. I was blown away by the entire thing.
The date of her transplant approached and she and her Mom appeared on our schedule. Shortly before the transplant, their names vanished. The front desk staff told me that they'd had to cancel, Dr's orders. I felt a little shiver of something...fear, premonition, who knows. All I know is that girl had stuck with me. I thought of her very often and wished for her. The summer passed by.
2 days ago, as I checked my schedule, I saw her Mom's name. A little hope and more than a little dread surged through me. I mentioned to Rick that she was coming in and that I hoped to hear some news. I brought along one of my crazy zombie dolls as a gift...they are right up this girl's alley! The appointment time drew near.
Right on time, Mom came through the door. And I knew. I've only met her once and I just knew what she'd tell me. We headed back to my room.
I asked her "What's happening with you?" She said, "Well, you remember my daughter that you worked on?" I said, "Of course! She made a very big impact on me." And she said "Well, she passed, on the 11th." And you all know what I did. Gave her a big hug and started to cry. No time for professional boundaries in this case. She shared with me some details of the end of her daughter's life. What a painful, gorgeous, poignant gift  to receive. We went on to agree that if the session was too tough for either of us, we'd let the other know. Instead, it was a beautiful give and take, between client and therapist, between Moms of children of any age, between women, between human beings. Astounding to me, every day, every session, the power of touch and human connection.
At the end of our session, she told me that it was perfect...just what she needed. And somehow, just like meeting her daughter that day this summer, it was just what I needed too.
I asked her if she'd like the doll that I made, and she took it with gratitude. She said what I had thought might be true, "Oh, she would have loved this!" We hugged and we parted ways. I have a feeling we'll meet again.
The gifts of this day were enormous for me. Reminders to live, really live life. Feel it all, suck it up and share it with anyone you meet. Be thankful for the intersections of your life with others. Some of these moments are just too stunning to let them fly by unnoticed.

Welcome, Ainsley.
Farewell, Sixx.
Thank you both so very much for the ripples you've begun.