Seeing everyday miracles

Yesterday I received the gift of a small miracle. It didn't seem like a gift at first. Our front door handle broke, as in totally non-functional, can't-open-the-door broke.

I went to Home Depot with the broken handle in hand, and stood in the doorknob aisle looking at my choices. The only front-door handles like ours I could find included the deadbolt, etc, for $130. I was frustrated and wanted to ask for help but didn't see any employees nearby. I walked to the end of the aisle, and still not seeing anyone, quietly said, "Help" in a way that felt like a prayer, a request sent out.

A moment later, an employee walked by as I was holding the expensive set and I asked her if there was any way I could just buy the new handle. She said no.

Disappointed, I carried the expensive set, as well as a different style handle that was cheaper but was going to leave a hole in the door, toward the cash register. About four aisles away, a different employee asked me if I needed help. "I don't think so," I said. He asked if I realized I had two different brands of handle sets, and I explained the whole story.

He took a look at the handle, which had no brand markings on it, asked to see my house key, and said, "This is a Kwikset handle. They'll almost always replace them for free, even if you didn't buy it" (it came with the house we bought last spring).

Turns out this guy was a locksmith for 10 years. He looked up the model online, called Kwikset for me and handed me the phone. The company agreed to send me a free replacement and even waived the shipping charges. Then the Home Depot fellow, Matthew, took me back to the doorknob aisle and helped me find an $8 doorknob I could install just to have a working front door for the next few days.

Wow. Talk about an answered prayer! As my teacher Brenda says, miracles are normal!

Guilt: Failing vs. Mistakes as a Tool for Learning

Last Saturday I enjoyed some time with two friends, also mothers. Our conversation quickly took a familiar turn, to feeling bad about ourselves as parents -- for the times we've lost our tempers, or ignored plaintive requests for attention in a desperate attempt to get something done, even berating ourselves for the frustration we feel in our roles as mothers.

Oh, the guilt we so willingly heap upon our shoulders as parents! I've been studying this for quite a while now -- why do we spend so much time feeling bad about ourselves as mothers, as people? In a more primitive emotional state, I can understand how guilt might function as a deterrent to future behavior that would make us feel more guilty. That is, I feel bad about myself when I yell at my kids, so next time I should remember this and stop myself from taking out my anger at them.

But in all honesty, in the well-intentioned people I know, the modern human psyche doesn't seem to process guilt this way. In fact, I think guilt only serves to keep us in a rut of feeling bad about ourselves, of feeling we have failed somehow. And when we feel bad about ourselves, lots of other moods can creep in that start to run our emotional fields: depression, victim energy ("no fair!" or "why me?"), resentment and blaming, lethargy and resignation ("why bother?"), chronic rage -- often suppressed but sometimes erupting full force and catapulting us right back into that guilty seat.

Where does this guilt come from anyway? It feels deeply ingrained in the human race, this sense that somehow we've done something wrong, we haven't lived up to some theoretical ideal, we've failed to meet an imagined level of perfection – more on this in the next blog entry.

For today, I’d like to propose that guilt has outlived its usefulness as a learning tool. At this point, I sense guilt just as confirmation that our hearts are in the right place, our intentions are good, we are trying to grow and do better. And stemming from that, I’d like to explore what I feel as the difference between this sense of something being “wrong” with us, versus the concept of making mistakes.

What if we could remove the judgment from the idea of making mistakes, remove this sense of wrongness or failure? What if we could truly accept mistakes as essential for learning? What if we replace the guilt and negativity that follow mistakes with a sense of compassion for ourselves, and a commitment to deeper study of the situation?

Self-compassion seems to be the key to shifting from the guilt-based processing to that of feeling our lives as on-the-job training grounds. And this willingness to dig deeper into understanding the situation seems to me a much more advanced way of learning from mistakes, than the simple guilt-as-deterrent idea.

Here’s a practical example – suppose I lose my temper with my kids. In the guilt-based system, I have failed to be a good parent, and somehow I feel I need to honor this mistake by punishing myself through guilt, which over time leads to the downward spiral of feeling bad about myself and a stressful, negative view of myself and probably my life in general.

In the training ground model, when I lose my temper, I register that it didn’t feel good. I take a few minutes to cool down and apologize to my kids, and then I do the deeper exploration: I reflect on why I’m feeling frustrated with the situation – do I need some alone time? Some creative time? Some time out of the house? I experiment with ideas to get these needs met. And if guilt comes up, I use it as a reminder to feel compassion for myself, for this advanced training I’m doing, for my willingness to be here and try. I am confident that this deeper reflection and self-study, learning to ask for what I need as a human being and modeling having compassion for my mistakes, will benefit my kids much more than that huge load of guilt and failure I was dragging around.

Perhaps in the big picture, guilt can function as a signal to consider a radical paradigm shift in the way we approach our lives, not just as parents but as evolving human beings: from guilt to compassion for ourselves, from the concept of failure to those of growth and exploration, from stress and negativity to excitement for living and learning.

Exotic Correspondence

Last week I was in the mood for chocolate. Just stopping to admire the lush displays of fancy chocolate bars is a treat in itself, virtually sampling each flavor --hot chili, dried cherries, spicy orange, crunchy toffee. Intuitively, I picked up this bar from Chocolove, made in Boulder, Colorado.

Now, this was a very tasty chocolate bar, but what I really want to share is how much I love the design of the label. I didn't consciously notice it at first, but the longer I looked, I saw a letter emerge, with an Almonds "stamp" at the top right and a Belgian Chocolate "postmark."

Looking further, I see how "Chocolove" in the top left is in the return address spot, with the flavor front and center like a mailing label. There's even a faux gold wax seal there, and a poem printed inside.

Now, this seems like brilliantly creative marketing to me. When I looked more closely at the almonds "stamp," I realized how much I love foreign stamps, beautifully showcasing the local flora and fauna. It put me in mind of the Griffin and Sabine books, where each page had an envelope with an actual folded up letter inside to read, or a postcard shown front and back on consecutive pages, each an artistic marvel, a tactile and visual treasure.

There is something so mysterious and exotic about foreign correspondence, a certain allure, as if somehow there's a secret to life there we've been missing. I realize this chocolate bar won't bring me nirvana, but I think they're onto something with the packaging. It makes me want to Google images of foreign maps & pictures, to feel the vastly different expressions of who we are as a species, to appreciate the deeper Mystery living it all.

Practicing Relaxation

Since last spring I’ve been exploring a movement system called somatics developed by Thomas Hanna. I cannot do it justice in one sentence, but the basic premise has to do with helping re-learn conscious control of muscles to help reduce involuntary contraction and pain. Since I’ve been practicing these movements each morning, I have definitely felt less chronic back pain than I used to, and my body feels more fluid and available to the day.

But the real reason I bring up somatics is this: the real “work” of each movement isn’t the exercise part where you contract muscles to lift a leg or shoulder, it’s the intentional, full relaxation of those muscles after using them. It’s helping your body re-learn to let go.

Relaxation isn’t something that comes very naturally to me. I tend to want to feel good about myself based on some accomplishment. Twenty years ago (!), that was academics. Now, as a stay at home mom, it’s more about what I “get done” each day, a sense of measurable productivity.

What’s really sinking in for me lately, though, is that basing my self-worth on what I get accomplished each day is just a set-up for stress and burn-out. If I only feel good about myself when I’m getting things done – whether it’s dishes, laundry, groceries, cooking (we all have own our version of this list) – then what about when I’m struggling with health issues related to my cystic fibrosis? There are times when I really can’t keep up with it all. Intellectually, I know it is okay to take time for healing & regenerating, but I can attest that self-worth based on productivity seriously plummets after a few weeks or months of not feeling well.

And I’m realizing there’s a deeper consequence to this “get it done” mode. It feels like when I’m stuck in this cycle of over-doing it, wearing myself out, needing to recuperate, feeling guilty about stuff piling up, pushing too hard again, and so on, that I’m never really taking the time to connect to my life. To bond with life. To feel what is exciting for me, or fun, or helps me slow down and feel the bigger picture of what really does matter to me, of what I want to bring here.

In a way, having cystic fibrosis is a gift, because it is helping me hone this perception of how I run my energy: am I on the hamster wheel getting things done, or am I participating in my life? Because I honestly don’t have the energy to get it all done and then do something I enjoy.

Which brings me back to the concept from somatics, of practicing relaxation. As I am recovering from a pretty serious set-back to my lungs ("Fear & Healing"), I am practicing relaxation in a new way. I am exploring how I can best use my energy to participate in my life in a way that helps me feel alive and connected to what is here.

Sure, I still need to do laundry now and then. Just now for instance, there is a month’s worth of bills and mail and paperwork that needs sorted, sitting in a basket at my feet. But I decided to take some time first, to write this blog entry. To reach beyond my small world of household tasks, and connect with a deeper sense of growth and evolution, and fun! – not just for myself, but for the human race. And I’m glad I did.

I’d love to hear what you’ve done today that wasn’t just about getting things done, but about bonding with your life. Maybe we can inspire each other to let Happiness have some fun here while we get things done, not putting off living any longer.

Treasures in My Pocket

This morning I noticed that the pockets in my favorite fleece jacket starting to jingle. When I looked inside, it made me pause. Most everything was a “gift” from my youngest, my five year old daughter.

Most of the time, I accept her offerings with a smile and a thank you, stuff them in my pockets, and keep going with my grown-up tasks. But today as I took inventory, I felt the almost unbearable sweetness of these interactions --

• A handful of pennies she brought me to “buy” something from her, and the change she gave me in return
• A tiny picture of a white cat, which she gave me because she knew I had a white cat that I loved when I was little
• A gorgeous petite stripey snail shell, from a huge bottle of which she fell in love with at Goodwill one day, and have since decorated random places all over the house

There are more, of course, more mundane -- the abandoned barrettes in my purse, the crayons that couldn’t be parted with at the restaurant, a sparkly rock from a parking lot.

For whatever reason, today I could feel the deeper feeling behind these interactions. The strong desire to learn how to navigate this realm, with all its quirks and complications. A gesture to acknowledge my own loves and losses. The trust that I can take care of something precious to her. The intense childhood wonder at the beauty all around us.

I feel in awe of the profound trust we have in each other, as souls, when we undertake this mother-child bond. That despite the undeniable rough spots, the moments of doubt and frustration, there is something truly beautiful there -- a belief that we can help each other to grow, to be taken care of, to learn to love.

I think I’ll keep a few of these treasures in my pockets, to remind me.

Embracing the Messiness of Life

A warm hello to all, and a brief introduction of myself to those of you who don’t know me. I’m Sarah Nuxoll, mother of two young children in Portland, Oregon. I enjoy musing and pondering till some of those reflections are just bursting forth and then I enjoy writing them down.

It was inevitable, I think, that I would start my own blog one of these days. I’ve had the idea for a some time now, but have repeatedly shelved it for several reasons – fear of putting myself out there (what if someone thinks I’m crazy?), paralysis due to the stumbling block of my perfectionism (hmm, that sounds okay, but I bet I could come up with something better if I think about it a while longer), but most of all, waiting for uninterrupted time to sit down and actually follow through with my plan.

Which brings me neatly to the subject of the title of my blog: Embracing Messiness. As a mother, I so rarely have uninterrupted time to myself. My life is a jumbled conglomeration of half-made plans, abrupt about-faces in what is needed in the moment, seemingly urgent requests from my children. I’ll admit I am still in the infancy of realizing that parenting isn’t about self-sacrifice, that not just my mental health but the overall good of my family depend on my setting firm boundaries with my kids and taking time for what I need, too. (I expect you’ll hear more about that in future entries.)

But the deeper truth I’m coming to terms with, is that life is just plain messy. We want so desperately to think we’re in control, but the truth is, in many ways, life just happens to us. We have kids and are shocked to learn what parenting really entails, we develop health conditions, we move cross country, we lose someone from our lives – it is messy. And there’s no controlling it. It is so easy to sleepwalk through our lives waiting for that fictitious moment when things will slow down, or get easier, and cling to the belief that then we can do what we really enjoy with our lives.

But what I most want to share in this blog, is that the more we can embrace these interruptions and about-faces and unexpected challenges – the more we can bring our true, authentic selves into each of these moments – that’s when we can begin to let go of vague sense of waiting for the right moment and just allow ourselves to really be here. To wake up from the sleepwalking, and consciously relate to what is right in front of us. To actively participate in our lives.

And to that end, I am excited to share with you some of my process, my trials and errors, my humble revelations, in hopes I might help ignite your own yearning to be fully here. I’m glad for your companionship along the way.