Getting Connected From the Inside Out

Right now I am going through a big transition period in my business. I have finally figured out who I want to serve and what I offer. It has been a long journey of inner work to get to this point, and I am more than thrilled! Ok, so drum roll please....

Who I serve: women in healing arts professions, such as body or energy work, yoga, mind/body coaching, etc., who are intimidated by the very thought of “business.”

What I provide: I provide holistic business coaching and consulting to enhance the clarity, presence and success of healing practitioners. After almost 25 years in business as a consultant and project manager (with two graduate degrees in business to boot!), I understand business concepts and translate them into language healers understand and can apply. As a healer and yoga instructor, I understand and appreciate “woo woo” and can translate it into language that civilians understand. I provide a bridge between mind, body and business.

I am currently designing products and services for this community that I can’t wait to share. My theme as I go through this process--which is essentially my theme for the year and the theme for my business--is connection. In other words, I think soulful business owners are the most successful when they are connected from the inside out--connected to themselves (body, mind, emotions, energy and soul), to their business operations, and to their customers.

So... instead of thinking about this transition as stepping out onto a stage with all eyes on me (if you can’t tell, being on American Idol would be my worst nightmare), I am pursuing my business as part of my spiritual path--a journey of connecting more deeply with my highest and best self. I am getting connected with my own life force and the fierce impulse to contribute in a bigger way. I am getting connected with my business knowledge, expertise and value as a service provider. I am getting connected with my natural gifts and talents. I am getting connected to all aspects of my business from a grounded, aligned and powerful place. Best of all, I am using all this inner connection to reach out and get connected to my people--my fabulous clients, readers, teachers and associates.

By walking this path myself, I am ready to help other healers get more connected to their businesses and their people.

So, I am writing this today to give you a heads up, as I will be making some technical changes (New website! New email provider and newsletter!). I will make the transition as seamless as possible, of course, but please be patient while the business is “under construction.” In addition, I am designing some very cool services for healers, so look for details coming soon. If you know any healing practitioners who struggle in their business, please send them my way!

By the way, I am compelled to mention the amazing support of my own business coach, Nona Jordan. She has helped me gain tremendous clarity and confidence while discarding some long-standing limiting beliefs that stood in the way of my success. I now know the true value of having a business partner that sees my brilliance when I cannot, and I am so happy to pay that same gift forward to my own clients. I am eternally grateful for her insights and support.

Light / Dark

In most yoga classes, the teacher ends with a simple closing, “Namaste.” One translation of this sanskrit term is “I bow to the light (or divine) within you.” During this time of winter solstice, when various religious celebrations honor the light in preparation for a dark winter, this term is especially appropriate. I honor the light within you. Because even on the darkest of days, the spirit within each of us is filled with brilliant light.

But as we know, the holiday season is filled with contradictions. We can celebrate the light while also feeling gloomy and dark. My yoga teacher, Janice George of ShivaShakti Synthesis, likes to close class with a different saying, “Jai Bhagwan.” According to her, it means “I bow to the light and the dark within you.” It acknowledges that there is no way for the light to be present without the darkness. By recognizing and acknowledging both, we are able to expand our presence.

In our house this year, the contradictions have been quite evident. We decorated our tree and hung holiday lights. My mom took Clara to her first annual Nutcracker ballet, and it was magical. We’ve listened to holiday music, eaten delicious food, and visited with Santa. But alas, our whole family has also gotten the stomach flu in the last week. We’re all sniffling and coughing. I currently have a sore throat and no voice at all (good time to finally write something!!!). The weather is gloomy. While we might have been ahead of the Christmas rush before last week, we’re now woefully behind and feeling pressured to get everything done in time (while at the same time just wanting to lay down and take a nap).

So this holiday season, I bow to the contradictions that make life so darned interesting:

Namaste / Jai Bhagwan

Holiday cheer /Bah Humbug

Present / Absent

Give / Take

Joy / Sorrow

Connection / Separation

Smile / Frown

Together / Alone

Awesome / Crappy

Hot / Cold

Relaxed / Tense

Thinking / Feeling

Grounded / Ethereal

Compassion / Anger

Sweet / Bitter

Attention / Distraction

Confidence / Shame

Juicy / Dry

Success / Failure

Right / Wrong

Celebration / Criticism

Wellness / Illness

Acceptance / Resistance

Productivity / Procrastination

Good / Bad

Exciting / Boring

Moving / Stuck

Love / Hate

Emotional / Intellectual

Laughter / Tears

Spacious / Limited

Doing / Being


See if you can find each of these pairs in your own life. Notice where they live in your body. Recognize and acknowledge each. Which words are you drawn to? Do you wince when you read certain ones? Can you make room for the ones you deem “bad” or “wrong” and allow them to be there without judgment? I’d love to hear how it goes!

Here’s to having a holiday season filled with contradictions. Jai Bhagwan.

The importance of asking the right question

Your mind is very powerful, and when left unattended, the stories it tells you can be painful and cause you to act in ways you don’t want. But your mind is not a mystery. The thoughts are there. They float across your mind all day. If you want to change your life, one sure way to do it is to pay attention to your thoughts, even though sometimes you won’t like what you see, and then change them.

Attending to your thoughts is life changing. Because you know what? You can change them. Your thoughts don’t own you. You own them. You have much more control than you think you have.

I’ve been doing thought work for a few years now, so I am pretty familiar with this concept. But even while observing my thoughts with compassion and curiosity and investigating them with consistency and vigor, I missed something important.

I missed the questions. As though questions don’t count as thoughts.

But oh how important the questions are. My teacher at the Life Coach School, Brooke Castillo, shared a concept that has facilitated a big shift for me. The idea is that we ask ourselves questions all day long. Until we are conscious of the questions that cross our minds, they are frequently phrased in such a way that we come up with crappy thoughts as answers. Proof that we are unworthy, lazy, selfish or any of our other negative perceptions of ourselves. See if you have asked yourself any of these questions:

What is wrong with me?
Why am I always so (stupid, lazy, selfish, disorganized)?
Why can’t I stop (overeating, overspending, drinking, etc.)?
Why can’t I keep it together?
Why is everything so hard?
Why isn’t this working?
Why can’t I just let it go?
You get the idea...

How do you answer your own questions? Do the answers help you change in a way that works for you? My guess is not so much.

So what if you changed the question so whenever you ask yourself, the answers feel delicious. See if any of these work for you:

-How can I show up 100% as me today?
-What do I really want right now?
-How can I make (losing weight, building a business, etc) more fun?
-What would be even better?
-What would I do if I didn’t care what other people thought?

Here’s an example from my own life. I’ve been playing with the idea of hard and soft. The question I would ask myself frequently used to be “Why is this so hard?” When I tried “How can I make this easier?”, I found that it still presumed that things were hard. So I re-worded the question to: “How can I be softer?”

Ahhh, relief. Here are a few of my answers:

-I can soften my eyes and brow
-I can release tension in my jaw
-I can take a deep breath
-I can relax my shoulders
-I can laugh with my girls
-I can snuggle with my husband

These are thoughts and actions that feel delicious, without having to try and think better thoughts. Just by asking a better question, the good-feeling thoughts automatically come. Try it and let me know how it goes!

What is your signal to slow down and rest?

The last two weeks have been pretty busy, to say the least. Unfortunately, I have been back in my old habit of taking on too much, and I haven’t been following my own advice to slow down and rest. Sometimes old habits die hard, I guess.

Two weeks ago, I attended a somatic workshop with Women Generating, which was fantastic, but also intense. Then last weekend we had guests staying with us and hosted a pirate birthday party for my daughter and 15 of her friends. It was a lot of fun, but not what you might think of as restful. Then last week I started an intense coaching program through the Life Coach School (excellent), and I continued my new part-time corporate consulting assignment. Plus, I’m in the process of redesigning my website and re-engaging with my coaching business.

I’m tired just thinking about all of it.

On Friday night, I felt the familiar tug of something approaching exhaustion. I knew I was tired. I knew I was pushing a little too hard. I longed for a break.

I thought I could handle it.

But then I got a very interesting signal from my body. I felt a sharp, throbbing pain in my right breast, in the exact location where a cancerous tumor was removed in May. It happened intermittently throughout the evening. Each time, I wondered what the heck was going on.

Of course, there are always reasons NOT to take a break. That same evening, my husband was working on an intense project at work and I offered to cover the kids’ bedtime routine to support him. I did the dishes because I wanted to contribute to the household, which I hadn’t been doing as much recently as I could have. I hadn’t talked to my sister all day and didn’t want her to think I was ignoring her, so I called her. My coaching class involves a forum, where people post thoughtful, engaging messages all day, and I caught up on a bunch of them so I wouldn’t fall behind. I finally sat down around 9pm. And then later that night, each of my girls (separately) woke up crying, just as I was finally falling asleep.

When I finally got into bed for the last time, I paid close attention to the throbbing pain. I asked my body what was going on. I asked it what it needed.

The answer was crystal clear: SLOW DOWN. I thanked my body for giving me such a powerful and timely message.

For the next two days, I didn’t pay any attention to any of the thoughts clamoring for my attention (I’m going to miss out if I don’t keep up with the coaching forum! The kids shouldn’t watch too much t.v.! We should go outside and enjoy the beautiful weather–it won’t last!), and instead relaxed all weekend. We rested on the couch all day. We watched movies. We drank tea. We made blueberry pancakes. I took a delicious nap on Saturday.

Lots of sleep. Good, healthy foods. No agenda.

And you know what? I feel fantastic today. Totally refreshed and rejuvenated. Ready for the week (a slower, easier week).

What signals does your unique body and/or mind give you to tell you that you’ve pushed too far? If you’re anything like me, you get the signals long before you actually pay attention to them. Maybe you have thoughts that you’re doing too much and should slow down (check). Maybe you have a desire to take a nap in the middle of the afternoon and don’t (check). Maybe your energy starts to wane and you have less motivation to work out, but you do it anyway (yep, check).

If you don’t pay attention to the signals, as I didn’t, you end up feeling run down and eventually get a cold or worse. It’s like there’s an escalation procedure, where the messages start as whispers and then get louder and louder until they there’s no way you can’t pay attention to them (a la the proverbial brick wall). This progression of signals is unique to you–it won’t look the same as someone else’s. Some people might get a sniffle and then a cold. Others feel drained and then conk out for three days. Apparently I get a throbbing sensation in my right breast when it’s time to slow down.

If you learn your signals and you begin to heed them sooner so they don’t have to get louder to get your attention, you might avoid something worse. On the other hand, if you find yourself sick in bed (a wall), it’s likely that your body is helping you take the much needed break it has been asking you for. If so, ask yourself what signals you might have missed (without judgment or self-recrimination), so you can start to learn how to avoid the wall, at least some of the time.

Check and see how this “brick wall” phenomenon might be working in your life right now. Are you missing important messages that your body is trying to send you? Slow down and pay attention. If you do what those signals suggest (take a nap, snuggle up on the couch with a good book, get a massage) instead of pushing forward, your body and your health will thank you. Mine sure did.

Ringing the bell after radiation

I got a call from my dear friend from the cancer hospital, the one I call Fran--the same one who helped me understand how important it is to strip away all the bullsh*t. I haven’t seen her since the day before her radiation treatment ended because I was late. I missed seeing her ring the bell when she was done. I still feel like crap about missing that milestone in her journey.

Let me be clear--ringing that bell at the end of radiation treatment is a BIG deal. It signifies that you have endured 33 to 36 individual radiation treatments. It means that you have hauled your ass into the hospital for up to 36 days in a row (excluding weekends), including driving across town, weaving your way through a busy college campus, winding your way up to the section of the third floor of the parking garage reserved especially for radiation patients, walking across the hospital and down to the basement (a.k.a. dungeon), checking in and getting your parking pass, changing into the infamous drab, gray gown and waiting, waiting, waiting for your turn to get nuked.

When you finally climb into the machine and bare your chest while up to 10 people adjust you and mill about the room around you, you try to go away and not think about what’s happening to your body. You vacate the premises. The machine whirls around you, buzzing and zapping its toxins into your body while you hope and pray it’s doing its job but not giving you a drop more radiation than absolutely necessary.

And then there are the side effects of treatments that you deal with. Skin rashes and burning, peeling, tenderness, and general discomfort around the area. There’s the extreme fatigue, which is different from anything you’ve ever experienced. The kind that isn’t aided by sleep. The kind that suppresses your whole system to the point that it feels like there’s a veil between you and the world, but you don’t really realize it until the veil lifts about a month after treatment.

And the emotional toll. You wonder what treatment is going to be like, if you’re going to be able to get through it. Of course you can--you can get through anything--but at the outset, you don’t know this yet, so there’s a lot of fear. Fear of suffering. Fear of discomfort. Fear of death. Fear that the treatment won’t work and you’ll be back where you started. Fear of not holding up your end of the human bargain--whether that means making a contribution to society or doing your family’s laundry. You experience other feelings too--the whole emotional gamut--and without your normal faculties, everything seems bigger and worse than usual. Once you get a taste of what the treatment will be like, you start holding onto your precious energy for dear life, until you realize that the holding takes too much energy. So you let go and let the radiation have its way with you.

When I missed Fran’s bell-ringing, it would be an understatement to say I was disappointed that I didn’t witness my friend as she finished this experience. For her it was even bigger because she had also gone through chemo. She had been working her way through cancer treatment for almost an entire year. And she rocked it. She finished with flying colors. I’m so proud of her.

Fran (you know who you are), I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.

So back to the phone call. She called me the other day and told me on my voice mail that I never mentioned in this blog that I had rung the bell.

Huh, go figure. Because it was a big deal for me too. A really big deal. I did, in fact, ring the bell at around 10:30am on Tuesday, August 16. My husband, parents, sister and brother-in-law and another friend who had been through it before were all there to support me, as they had through the whole experience.

I made it all the way through cancer treatment. I rang the bell. I finished an experience that changed me from the inside out. I have learned so much from the whole thing, it’s hard to even describe. I’m so grateful for that.

But I’m still really, really glad it’s over.

Fran, this post is for you. Congratulations on finishing treatment, and I hope you are doing well now. I don’t have your number (it showed up as unknown on my phone), so please call me back and let me know how to get in touch with you. I have often wanted to talk to you and see how you are doing, so I was thrilled to get your phone call. I look forward to hearing from you again.

Joy Me Up

Upon arrival home from a family vacation earlier this Fall, we were all a little cranky after nine hours in the car on a gray and dreary day. To let off some steam, we went to the back yard, and my oldest daughter said, “Mommy, I want to listen to some music to joy me up.”

Joy me up! How clever is she? The phrase has stuck with me ever since.

Funny that she chose music as her joy “vehicle” of choice--she must be related to me. Music is one of the few things that can joy me up no matter what kind of mood I am in. Here’s a perfect example: in April, shortly after my cancer diagnosis, (you could say it was a rather gloomy time), I was watching one of my favorite guilty pleasures, Glee.

Rachel, one of the main characters, considered getting a nose job in order to be more appealing to the mainstream. In an effort to discourage her, Kurt, her gay friend, took her to the mall to listen to her idol, Barbra Streisand, who “redefined beauty and became the biggest star in the world.”

Rachel: Is she here?

Kurt: [with much disdain] No, we’re in a mall in Ohio.

[Ok, maybe it’s just because I’m from Ohio that I find this line completely hilarious]

Anyway, Kurt knew she would be inspired by Barbra’s ability to own exactly who she is and how she looks, without apology. So, he organized a flash mob in her honor.

Best. Scene. Ever.

Check out the official Glee video on YouTube here.

I saved the show on my DVR and watch it often because I light up every time. I practically giggle with delight because it’s all about celebrating the beauty of who you are, no matter what you look like--with a bit of tongue-in-cheek humor thrown in for good measure. And it’s set to a catchy, upbeat techno song. LOVE.

Seriously, I laughed so hard, I even thought about posting it on my Facebook page at the time. I didn’t. You know why? Because my previous post had announced my cancer diagnosis, and the conditioned part of me that cares what people will think told me that it was inappropriate to follow cancer with Glee. Interesting how we can filter an emotion (in this case, pure joy) through the lens of whether it is appropriate to feel it.

So anyway, I give you this now because it still joys me up, and I want to share my joy with you. Of course, if this particular clip isn’t your thang, I beg you to find something that is. Something that lights you up and makes you smile. Something that brings that sense of sheer delight.

Throw caution to the wind and feel it even if part of you thinks it’s inappropriate.

Let it... Joy. You. Up.


Here's Clara, showing us how it's done.

Soft is the New Black

Cancer is hard, in so many thesaurus-like ways (thank you thesaurus.com).

Cancer is difficult (adjective): none of the treatment options are particularly good, so making decisions is challenging. Physical symptoms, including pain, fatigue, skin irritation, and others make life more arduous while going through treatment. Emotional issues are more wearisome than at other times. Managing fear is especially tough. Life can feel exhausting and overwhelming when faced with a troublesome diagnosis and/or complications during treatment. Figuring out which diet and lifestyle changes to make in order to prevent future tumors from growing can seem rigorous and strenuous.

Cancer is solid (adjective): a tumor is a dense, firm mass of calcified cells. Once a tumor has formed, it is strong in its mission to grow. The mass is concentrated and compact. Treatment options are set and can feel inflexible. And if we take the cancer as a metaphor, could it be possible that this mass developed as a result of living life in a rigid and unyielding way?

Cancer is cruel, ruthless (adjective): facing cancer can range from unpleasant to brutal and bleak. Symptoms can seem intolerable and grim and are sometimes painful. Radiation and chemotherapy are unrelenting. The whole experience can feel perverse and unjust.

Cancer is true, indisputable (adjective). Cancer is absolute--it exists, it wears down, it kills. Cancer cells actually exist in every human, although the conditions must be positive for a tumor to progress. While cancer already has a definite place in the collective mindset, I think we need to increase our focus on pragmatic prevention strategies if we really want to move the dial. There are many verified ways to do this, including making dietary changes, managing emotions in a healthier way, reducing stress.

So, given that my intention is to learn from cancer and not fight with it, my tumor and I had a conversation. On several occasions, I communicated directly with the cancer in my own body (before it was removed) and asked it what it needed so it wouldn’t come back.

Call me a freak if you want to, but I know that my body’s wisdom illuminates the path that is in my highest good. Every. Time.

You know what the cancer told me? To soften.

Huh, go figure. With all that hardness proliferating in my body and life (yes, I can be a smidge rigid and tense), this made a whole lot of sense, even in that moment. Gotcha, cancer, I can see how softness is the antidote to the hard growth in my body.

Since that time, I’ve thought even more about how hard on myself I am, how rigid and tense my body can be, how much I hold myself in and hide behind rules and expectations. I even started recognizing how much I use the word "hard" in my every day communication (life is hard, stop playing hard-ball, having a hard time, hard sell, it’s a hard pill to swallow, they’re hard-up for money, she’s so hard-core, between a rock and a hard place).

My new mission is to be soft, to soften, to relax. And I recommend this strategy to anyone who is consistently angry, tense, anxious, overworked, stressed, in pain, moody, stuck or feeling worse than they could in almost any way.

What do I mean by soft? For me, soft means...

...Cushioned, squishy (adjective). Embracing the easy, pliable, flowing parts of myself and my life. Allowing more flexibility in my schedule and my way of doing things. Yielding when I’m in a squabble with my husband, instead of being attached to being right. Enjoying a whole foods, mostly plant-based diet (with some delicious, worth-while exceptions) because I like it, rather than sticking to a rigid set of rules.

...Faint, temperate (adjective). Soft as in gentle, mild, pleasing, quiet. Soft as in accepting that I am sensitive and sometimes need a break from the world to recharge. Soft as in playing soothing music, soaking in a hot bath, or taking a nap. Soft as in incorporating more restorative yoga, meditation, and deep relaxation--because it feels delicious, not because I should. Soft as in mellowing into myself by caring more about what matters to me than what other people think.

...Compassionate (adjective). Soft as in serving my clients because I love them rather than dwelling in how much I don’t know or haven’t done to get my business off the ground. Soft as in laughing with my kids instead of getting frustrated that they’re not doing what I ask. Soft as in delighting in spending time with family and friends. Soft as in simplifying life and doing only what feels right. Soft as in being vulnerable when expressing my true self. Soft as in asking for nurturing and support when I need it.

Soft is the new black, and I wear it with pride. What would softening be like for you?



Photo by bea08436e3_t