Would the teenage part of yourself be happy with who you are now?

Last night I had the good fortune of seeing Troubadours of Divine Bliss at Unity Center of the Heights. They are hard to explain. Kind of like The Indigo Girls but their songs mostly speak of Divine love, and with an accordion.

They were awesome! I have to say, I’ve been manifesting so many wonderful things as of late. I’d never heard of this band before, and suddenly there I was, blissing out listening to their inspiring music! Honoring the concept of Law of Attraction, whenever I am enjoying something lately, I’ve taken to appreciating myself for manifesting it. Go me! I figure I blame myself enough when things go wrong, it’s only fair to take credit when they go right!

During the set, they mentioned a question asked of them in a recent interview:

Would the teenage part of yourself be happy with who you are now?

Food for thought, no?

Not trying to sound conceited, but I believe my teen self would think I’m awesome. I have busted through so many barriers. Physically, mentally, educationally, financially, emotionally, spiritually. My teenage self didn’t think she was worth a damn. She had no idea Who She Was.

I’ve become the parent my teen self wished she’d had. I say that not with blame, or to inflict shame. My parents were 17 and 18 when they married. My father suffered horrible abuse as a child. My mother carried her own pain. They were unhealed kids, hoping the other would fix it, and neither had any tools.

Back to me….LOL. I’m so much more free now than when I was a teen, and I keep on growing in that area. Riley did that. Oh how I fought against it at first, but my daughter taught me how “different” can bring great freedom with it. She can’t be like everybody else. It’s not what she came here to do. Parenting her like “everyone else” was never going to work. Letting go has brought such richness to our experience.

My teenage self was dealing with so much. She acted tough, but she was always so afraid. I think she’d be happy to know I led her safely to 42. I think she’d love the kids. She always loved kids. I think she’d tell me to dress cooler and wear more jewelry. She’d appreciate HT’s integrity, and love who he is as a father. She’d insist I dance more.

I think she’d say, “You’re doing good.”

She knows proper grammar, but has never been a stickler for it. Kind of an “in your face” to a system that underestimated her.

She’d be glad I write.

She had a lot to say.

Who Do I Think I Am?

Last week the living room went from garish yellow to cappuccino. I like.

Today The Maids came. My sister bought me a gift certificate almost a year ago and I never used it ’til now. And only now because they called and said it would expire soon. And I knew I’d catch hell if I let that happen. And I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, because I’m not.

You see….I dream of having a cleaning service. I wish for it all the time. But there is always a reason not to. Money. That’s the big one of course. I never could justify it.

But wait, there’s more.

Today when The Maids arrived, I cringed at their big yellow car with its big advertisement parked in my driveway.

The neighbors will think I’m too lazy to clean my own house.
The neighbors will think we’re loaded.
The neighbors will judge me, I mean, I’m not even employed outside the home.
The neighbors will think, the neighbors will think, the neighbors will think.

Ludacris, I know, but there it was.

A team of four piled into the house and immediately set to work. One in the bathroom. One in the kitchen. One upstairs, one downstairs. They were hell on wheels. Two hours, four people scrubbing my house spic and span.

The maids are probably disgusted with my house.
The maids have probably never seen so much dust on a ceiling fan.
The maids probably resent having to scrub someone else’s toilets and floors.

I hid in our bedroom with the kids and the dogs, frantically e-mailing HT and my friend Betsy for pep talks. They delivered. ((LOVE)).

Yesterday, I spent a considerable amount of time, removing clutter from dresser tops, the dining room table, etc., boxing it up and putting it in the basement or my office so The Maids even could clean.

How am I constantly de-cluttering and still always finding more stuff piling up? Actually I recently figured out using the term “de-cluttering” is part of it. The energy behind the word is “anti.” I need a new word. I am not de-cluttering, I’m creating space. I’m organizing. I’m beautifying.

Anyway…this whole experience of having The Maids here was very eye opening. Very ridiculously stressful. Very shining a light on unhealed aspects of myself and saying, “Yoo-hoo? You ready to deal with this? Is now a good time?”

Before answering the question, I ran to the kitchen cabinet and ate four cookies. I knew I was emotionally eating. I knew. But you know what? It’s okay. I’ve done a lot worse than four cookies, and there was awareness, even as I dunked those babies in my coffee.

This isn’t about the neighbors. This isn’t about the maids. This isn’t even about money.

The issue is worthiness. It always is.

Who am I to have a good life?

Who am I to have help?

Who am I to ask for and/or receive support?

Who do I think I am?

Sitting here in my nice clean house, I am thankful.

One more layer peeled off.

Thankful to have this experience.

Thankful to have the luxury, the time and space to think about my response to these questions.

Focus Wheels

The last two weeks were tough. Riley could not shake the feeling of being behind, after missing ten days of school to go get her service dog. One of the ways we were able to move forward was by using the focus wheel exercise depicted in the best selling Abraham-Hicks book, The Vortex.

I’ve posted about focus wheels in the past, but here is the jist. You take whatever bad feeling you are having and come up with its opposite, and put that in the middle of a circle. Riley was feeling behind, and worried, so in the middle of her circle we put the opposite of that, “feeling like things are happening how and when they are supposed to/having faith.”  That’s what we were going for.

Then we changed the subject and spent some time focusing on Tanya, her cat. Thinking about Tanya makes Riley feel peaceful and calm. We think about Tanya’s colorful paws. Her soft patchwork calico fur. Her purr. Her eyes. Her face. When Riley is feeling calmer, we start working on the focus wheel.  We fill it in with statements that support “feeling like things are happening how and when they are supposed to/having faith.”

This is an interactive exercise. I don’t do it for Riley. We discuss things and kick them around. She decides what goes in the slots. Excuse my messy writing, but I think you can read it. 

When we are done with a focus wheel, the air in the room is different. It changes things.

Here is a focus wheel I did with Seth, who is afraid to be upstairs by himself. He thought about Legos to get in a good energy focus wheel place. Again, he came up with the answers for the slots. It didn’t cure him of his fear, but it got him through a recent night, when he was feeling particularly fearful about going to bed.

I’ve used the focus wheel exercise many times myself, and find it to be a useful tool. Feeling better, a little bit at a time. That’s the idea. Like Riley says in her wheel above, I know I can do anything if I start in small increments.

No Contrast No Expansion

Contrast = Expansion

Contrast = Expansion

Contrast = Expansion

When I remind myself of this, I feel better. When I can look at any problem, anything getting under my skin, and imagine it as the cause of my further expansion, it isn’t as hard to take. This causes me to relax a little around the problem. When I relax a little around the problem, solutions and completely different opportunities sprout up into focus.

Musn’t hate the contrast.

Thank it, and keep stepping.