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

Where do you look for answers?

When you’re lost, upset, angry or disconnected, where do you turn for help? A therapist? Your friendly, neighborhood life coach?

When you have money issues, who do you ask for assistance? A financial advisor? Your accountant? A money coach?

What about when you have an argument with your spouse? Need parenting advice? Have a health crisis? Or when you have more nuanced issues like a desire to eliminate a bad habit or to figure out what you were born to do in this lifetime?

If you’re anything like me, whenever you hit a bump or roadblock on your path, you look outside yourself for answers. You talk to a friend, research the internet, take a class, hire an expert. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with this approach at all; often, it is the simplest and most effective way to resolve a problem, especially if you simply don’t have the professional information you need (e.g., the doctor’s medical training) or you are interested in learning a new skill that someone else is willing and able to teach you.

However, it is my contention that as a society, our conditioning to look outside for answers is so engrained that we have lost the connection to our own answers, our inner wisdom. We forget that no one else knows our gifts, our likes and dislikes, our boundaries, or our pain points better than we do. No one else knows the right path for us. Ever. We forget that deep down, our own highest selves will guide us in the right direction, even if that direction is straight to an expert who can help us.

In my life and coaching practice, I have a working theory that I have been testing for a while:

No matter what is going on in your life, what problems you face or issues you have, it all comes down to your relationship with yourself.

Your relationship with your money, your body, your children, your schedule all come back to how you feel about yourself. Your beliefs about money (which inform your financial reality) are a reflection of how connected you are to your own value. Your weight and your health are reflections of how connected you are to your self-image and your body. Your schedule and how you spend your time are reflections of how willing you are to take a stand for yourself. Your spiritual life depends greatly on how connected you are to your own divinity.

You can resolve any problem by tuning into your own inner guidance.

The good news is that every single thing you experience, any thought, feeling, behavior, sensation, circumstance, or problem, is a potential avenue that can lead you directly to your own wisdom and ability to connect more deeply with your highest self.

When you are connected deeply with yourself, it’s not that you won’t have problems (hello), but that the problems shine a light on the thoughts, beliefs and patterns that need to be adjusted to become more self-realized. When you are connected with yourself, you understand that the path you are on is exactly right for you--in fact it is meant for your own individual learning and growth. When you are connected to yourself you:

-Are integrated in mind, body and spirit

-Trust yourself; you know when to look outside for answers and when to turn inward for wisdom and guidance

-Maintain your optimum health and wellness

-Are more authentic, confident, accepting, grateful and compassionate

-Know your own gifts and use them in service to the world

-Own your flaws and don’t let them define who you are as an individual

-Learn from mistakes and heal past wounds

-Live life your way, without apology

So the next time you need answers, try looking inside first. Get relaxed as possible. Get grounded in your body. Check your thoughts and feelings to see whether they are getting in the way of your path. Meditate. Pray. Journal. If you still need an expert, ask yourself this before you hire them: to what extent do they act like they know what’s best for you versus guiding you to your own answers?

Being connected to yourself is the path of self-actualization. It’s the path of integration, the healing path, the way. It’s a spiritual journey. In the words of Lao-Tzu, “knowing others is wisdom, knowing yourself is Enlightenment.”

I would love to hear your feedback on this post. Please comment or email me privately!


Photo by ben heine

What's Fueling You?

Can you feel the change of seasons in the air? Even when it’s warm and sunny during the day, the telltale signs of shorter days, cooler evenings, and increased winds can’t keep the arrival of Autumn a secret anymore. I don’t know about you, but I’m in the mood to snuggle into my comfy sweats, drink lots of tea, and eat warm, satisfying soups.

Between the temperatures and the “back to school” mantra, Fall signifies a new beginning for most of us. It doesn’t even matter whether you or your family members are in school anymore, the season is still a time to get back to work, initiate new projects, or generally get serious about whatever goals you want to accomplish for the year. Usually, all of that translates into getting busy. Really busy.

This is typically a welcome change for me, as I like the feeling of busy-ness. It makes me feel important, like I’m contributing. But this has been an unusual year, as many of you know. I took the summer off from work so I could devote my time and energy to undergoing treatment for breast cancer. The Big C is one of those deep experiences that forced me to look at myself and my life because something--perhaps my way of being, my reaction to stress, my diet or lifestyle habits--created the conditions for cancer to grow. While I don’t believe the cancer was my fault, per se, I do think that I need to make some changes so it doesn’t return.

So, what have I learned?

To get the message a certain experience is teaching you, look at what you are getting out of it. For me, cancer meant clearing my schedule, not over-committing to anything, putting my self-care at the top of the list, and most importantly, slowing down. One of the biggest side effects of treatment was fatigue, so my entire job this summer was to manage my energy. I began to view just about every part of my life through the lens of how it would affect my energy. Would a given food, activity or conversation fuel me or deplete me? Would it add to my energy reserves or use them?

One of the benefits of fatigue, it turns out, is that I learned to take a stand for myself in the softest way possible. I took a nap whenever I wanted. I said no to obligations that didn’t serve me (and let go of guilt about it). I asked for help and support. And most importantly, I was more relaxed in my body and (sometimes) even in my mind. It’s hard to stay vigilant, rigid or upset when you’re so tired you can barely see straight.

With many opportunities on deck right now, I am extremely tempted to fall back into my old pattern of over-scheduling myself. But this year I am incorporating softness and relaxation into my routine. I’m allowing some flexibility for a nap here and there. I’m doing restorative yoga and adding in more massage and meditation. I am saying no to a few opportunities that seemed like a good idea at first blush.

By using the fueling/depleting lens to view my schedule, even though my energy has mostly returned, my Fall is shaping up to be much more spacious and relaxed than in years past. How nice is that?

The Fuel Tool

No matter if you are interested in fostering wellness or just want to experience increased energy to get everything on your list done, here’s a tool that can help you feel better, regardless of how busy you are. Use this tool to evaluate your activities in terms of whether they are fueling or depleting. Then for any of the items that are depleting, see if you can either ditch them or improve them in some way.

Step 1: Write down each activity you do, from the time you get up to the time you go to bed. This is your to do list plus things you wouldn’t normally write down, like taking a shower, picking up the kids from school, preparing lunch, etc. You can be as general or as detailed as you like. If you can’t get a good read on an activity, try breaking it down into smaller parts.

Step 2: For each individual activity, assess whether it is more fueling or more depleting (or neutral). Do the things you spend your time on juice you up and make you feel expansive, relaxed and/or energized? Or do they wear you out, make you feel contracted, and reduce your precious resources? (Or are they neutral). For example:

Activity More Fueling or Depleting (or Neutral)?

Meditation -Fueling

Prepare kids’ breakfast -Depleting (depends on how much they whine)

Write blog post -Fueling

Bookkeeping -Depleting

Watching TV -Hmmm... mostly depleting

Step 3: Evaluate the items that you listed as depleting. Now assess whether you can ditch them or improve them. Can you hire them out? Switch or barter them with someone who doesn’t dislike them so much (like switching chores with your significant other so you are each responsible for the ones you dislike the least)? If you actually can’t get rid of them, can you improve the tasks to make them more energizing? Can you play music, light a candle or treat yourself after completing them?

Try it and see what happens. Email me if you want any help with this exercise and please reply and let me know how it goes!


PS This exercise is strikingly similar to Martha Beck’s Body Compass exercise, but I didn’t even realize that until I was half way through it. I guess I learned it on a much more visceral level this summer, so I’m sharing my take on it.


Photo by Argonne

Woo Hoo! Now What?

Are you familiar with the phenomenon where you attain a long-awaited goal and then feel completely lost? Like after graduating from college. After becoming engaged or pregnant. After getting promoted. Or leaving an unfulfilling relationship or job.

It feels so good to reach the stage you’ve been aiming for. You think, “I’ve finally done it. This is exactly where I want to be. This is fabulous!”

Right? Isn’t it?

Amid all the hoopla, you reach the moment when reality sets in. You realize with a visceral sucker punch to the gut, “Oh crap, what do I do now?”

That’s what it feels like for me right now. I have completed my treatment for breast cancer, which has been a long, arduous road. And now, other than a few follow up appointments, I am all finished. I am absolutely thrilled.

And yet, here I am, feeling, well, un-anchored. Everything I thought I knew has been turned on its head. The world of possibilities is opening back up and I feel small and overwhelmed in the face of it. Here are just a few of the questions I am pondering right now:

-What should I eat? What are the foods that foster optimum health for me?

-How should my business change to incorporate everything I’ve learned?

-What should my priorities be to promote total wellness from the inside out?

-Do I have what it takes to turn my random thoughts about my experience into a book?

-Have I transformed enough so the cancer doesn’t come back?

As humans, we like to feel as though we have some semblance of control over the way our lives turn out. We like to have answers to our questions. We want to know what’s next because that gives us a sense of security and comfort. But when we enter a new stage of life, we aren’t supported by the daily habits and minutia that normally provide at least a veneer of security. We’re between stages. Clean slate. No bullsh*t.

Although it feels daunting and overwhelming, it’s actually a rare opportunity to re-shape life from a new vantage point. To re-prioritize. To re-build using the best parts from the past and letting go of the parts that no longer work. Even though it’s scary.

I consider this timeframe like a post-it note from the universe telling me to tune deeply inward and follow my inner compass instead of looking out “there” for direction. To live in the questions instead of the answers. To see what unfolds while I’m not working so hard to control everything. To embrace the not-knowing.


If you’d like to join me on my journey, I am starting a newsletter where you will receive bimonthly articles and tips for introspection and inspiration. Visit my homepage at www.un-coaching.com and sign up!


Photo by daniel

Finding the Gift

A few months ago, I saw a clever little independent film called "May I Be Frank?" It's a documentary about an overweight guy from Brooklyn who does a 42-day cleanse and personal development program through a raw restaurant in San Francisco.  He has three coaches to help and encourage him as he makes significant changes in his life. He tells it like it is, and his insights are alternately hilarious and touching.

During one of his worst times, when he is feeling horrible, his coaches essentially tell him, "This is FANTASTIC!  It's perfect!  You're doing great, and this is just where you need to be!"

When you’re in the middle of a hard time, it’s often hard to see how the experience is benefitting you in any way, let alone how it’s exactly right--a situation delivered by the universe specifically FOR your growth and evolution as a human being. My sister and I have found this concept especially helpful lately, allowing us to laugh at how FREAKIN’ FANTASTIC everything is when we’re at our darkest moments. Sarcastic (sadistic?) humor often helps.

Anyway, I digress. My point is that finding the genuine (not sarcastic or forced) gift in any situation can really re-frame a problem and shed some light on a tough situation. Take mine, for instance. At times, my radiation treatments are kicking my ass, to put it bluntly. When my energy wanes, which it does frequently these days, I’m bone tired, sluggish, and everything seems to take longer. I sometimes get cranky, with a volatile, dramatic temper. My filters and defenses are gone, so I’m more easily triggered, and things get to me quicker and deeper than they have in years. The worst part is that during those dark moments, I believe my worst thoughts about myself (not unlike high school--and it feels about as bad).

To begin reframing the situation, I ask myself the following questions:

-What is perfect about this situation?
-If my soul/the universe/God had a message for me here, what would it be?
-How can I learn from this?

If the situation as a whole is too daunting or big, break it down into pieces and ask the questions for each individual piece. For example:

-What’s perfect about fatigue is that it makes me softer (ahem, most of the time). During a bodywork treatment, the fabulous somatic coach Suzanne Roberts, of WomenGenerating, reframed the situation in such a beautiful way for me that I’ve felt lighter and more peaceful about it ever since. She said that the slow, softness of fatigue can teach me how to be more relaxed in my body. Wow, what a huge insight. Seeing the value in this situation is making it much easier to tolerate (with much less resistance).

-The gift in my dark, volatile moods is perhaps that some of my deepest beliefs, stored emotions and a deep layer of physical tension are coming up to the surface for healing. It’s perfect, in its own twisted way, because I can see my most unworkable patterns in all their glory (much to the dismay of my husband), as they are no longer buried beneath layers of what Richard Strozzi-Heckler calls “armor,” or coping mechanisms. Now that I’m aware of them, I can work on UN-winding the patterns one step at a time.

There can be unforeseen gifts in even the most tragic and upsetting situations. Think about the amazing sense of community and generosity after events such as 9/11 or the hurricane in New Orleans. New relationships that develop in the wake of heart-wrenching loss. New opportunities and directions when things don’t go as “planned.”

Traditionally, I’ve found it easier to see the gifts long after the hardest part of a circumstance has passed. But when you can see the value of your toughest times in the moment, that’s when the magic happens. The resistance melts away. You stop fighting with reality and allow it all to unfold. You're okay with what is happening because it's just the way it was meant to be.


Photo by Maios

What Would Happen If You Stripped Away the Bullsh*t?

The other day I was waiting for my radiation treatment in the Female Lounge, a little waiting room just for breast cancer patients (survivors, really, since we’ve all had surgery already), and I really took in my surroundings. The room is a pretty functional, no frills kind of place, down in the basement of the cancer hospital. Pale yellow walls and no windows, except in the door to the grey hall. There are a few nondescript chairs, a restroom, lockers and a changing area. The women, many of whom are still bald from chemotherapy, don hospital gowns of the worst washing-out variety: drab grey. There’s an air of resignation as we wait to climb into unforgiving machines, bare our chests, which have been maimed to varying degrees, and get nuked every weekday at the same time for more than six weeks.

Sound dreadful? Well, it is and it isn’t.

It sucks, don’t get me wrong. But, who knew that what takes place in this little room would become a favored part of the day? Go figure. A perfect example is a conversation I had the other day with a woman I’ll call Fran, who is a no-holds-barred kind of person anyway, punctuated by the baldness and gown. We were talking about what we are learning from this whole experience, a topic I rather enjoy. We commiserated about how busy busy we had been before, where nothing could slow us down. Nothing, that is, except for the Big C.

Then Fran looks right at me and says, “Cancer strips away the bullshit.”

Indeed it does, my friend. “Say more,” I say.

“You don’t have room for any bullshit, when your ass is going through cancer treatment. No one else has to get [to treatment] every single day. No one else is losing their hair for you. No one else pays the hospital bills. There ain’t no room for bullshit anymore.”

Well said.

In the microcosm of the Female Lounge, no bullshit means we are stripped away of topics that usually hold our attention, like small talk, what we look like, what other people think, what to do next. Under normal circumstances, you might hear a lot of “what do you do?” and “where do you live?” when people first get to know each other. Not so in the Lounge. These women get right to the point, no matter if you just met someone the day before. Instead, the conversations consist of questions like “what’s your experience been like?” and “what are you grateful for?” and “how does God factor into your life?”

On a larger scale, no bullshit means taking away the common distractions of life. The busyness, the reasons, the obligations, the excuses. Fran took a leave of absence from her job so she could focus on healing and recovery. I too have been fortunate enough to be able to take time off from work and have chosen to take exceptional care of myself. Without the normal bullshit, I’ve pared down to just the essentials in my life, which include:

-Sleep, lots of it, including naps whenever the mood strikes
-Daily quiet time (meditation)
-Healthy, nutritious whole foods
-Spending time laughing and talking with family
-Snuggling and tickling my kids
-A balance of activity (yoga, walking) and rest
-Sunshine, fresh air and nature
-Deep, meaningful conversations (coaching, being coached, connecting with friends and other survivors)
-Listening to inspiring music
-Regular mind/body healing and bodywork
-A good dose of entertaining TV (ok, this isn't essential, but it's fun nonetheless)
-Writing

So what if you stripped away the bullshit in your life? What would be left? What are the essentials that would fill you with joy, pleasure and energy? How and with whom would you spend your time?

This is a mental exercise that is well worth indulging in. Don’t wait for circumstances to do it for you.

Photo via wader

The Ring of Fire

Growing up, my family always emphasized positive thinking as the way to get through anything. If you’ve met my parents, you know that they do indeed practice what they preach, and it works for them. They are some of the most fun-loving people I know, and from what I can tell, everyone (including me) loves to be around them. They see the bright side of life, the glass as half full. They are filled with gratitude, optimism and good cheer.

I was not born with this particular outlook on life; I tended to think there was something wrong with me for not being a model of cheerfulness. I always felt like the black sheep of the family. The more I was told to think positively, the more I would feel inadequate and yearn to be different to meet others’ expectations. I must admit to engaging in a lot of biting sarcasm, self-deprecation and bitterness in years past (let’s not even mention high school).

It has taken a LOT of inner work to get to where I am now, which is much more realistic, and, well, more positive. The great news is that I don’t think I “should” be more positive, I just am. I think inspired, optimistic thoughts all the time and actually believe them. Perhaps it’s just maturity. Or years of doing thought work and coaching.

Regardless, my inner world is vastly more pleasant than it used to be. And yet, as I’ve gone through my treatment, I have started noticing deep, old thought patterns that I thought were gone emerge again. They’re pretty dark, and they feel old and childlike, such as:

I can do it myself (channeling my inner two-year old)

I can’t ask for help

I’m too brave and strong to be scared

I don’t want to be a bother

I won’t have what I need

There’s something wrong with me

My “stuff” is coming up at break-neck speed these days, but I am giving myself the gift of not having to DO anything about these negative thoughts except pay close attention to them. In the past, I would have used these thoughts as fodder to beat myself up and feel ashamed. It’s really tempting to do that again, let me tell you, but I’m resisting the temptation.

Instead, I realize I’m smack dab in the middle of what Martha Beck calls the Ring of Fire (Steering by Starlight), which describes the emotional transition from the “Shallows” (the exterior shell of life where we are motivated by external validation, such as money, status, and fame) to the Core of Peace (the oneness of everything, where there is no pain, no fear and no death). The only way to get to the Core of Peace, though, is to go through the Ring of Fire, and that entails grieving unavoidable losses and disbelieving false ideas that cause unnecessary pain. It requires confronting our very self-concept (which is usually based on ideas that we adopted as children that are no longer necessarily true). It is far from pleasant.

I am now grieving the loss of my health (or at least the way I thought of it before) and having to investigate all kinds of old, tired thoughts that have come up to the surface for healing. It is in our nature to avoid pain, so it’s extremely tempting to run back into the Shallows as quickly as possible (yes, I’ll cop to a fleeting thought about moving to a deserted island by myself to avoid imposing on anyone or needing help anymore). But we don’t heal from the Shallows--only from the Core of Peace. Having a framework to recognize this transition process has helped me regain my perspective and dive right in, despite the discomfort. In fact, wading through this particular emotional muck is a necessary part of healing, and my overall health and wellbeing will benefit immeasurably.

So what about you? Have you been through the Ring of Fire? Has a grieving process changed you in ways you could never have anticipated? I’d love to hear what you think of these concepts and how they apply to your life.