The end of the Mayan calendar has people a bit wigged out and there are a lot of doom-sayers having a field day with that. We’ve got a Presidential election this fall, and that has folks a bit wigged out, too. And, of course, the media is already having a field day with it, labeling their news broadcasts such things as “Decision 2012″. I’m sick of the posturing and pontificating already. Whatever you believe, I think we can probably all agree these are stressful times and our individual and collective faiths are being tested.

No one is feeling it more than a friend of mine whose husband died this week. He was only 43 and had a massive heart attack on New Year’s Day. He leaves behind his wife of 19 years and two kids – none of whom have any understanding of what has happened to them.

Happy Fucking New Year. Lean into it, my ass.

Having had my own scare with Second Son in November (And no, don’t think you missed a post, because you didn’t. I have been too busy dealing with the shit storm that has been my life these last few months to write about it here.) I have only the tiniest inkling of what my friend is going through. How the hell do you lean into pain like that? I don’t know and I don’t want to find out anytime soon.

It’s amazing how things that were such big issues 5 minutes ago become petty and small in the face of this kind of news. I’m sitting here guiltily grateful that it’s not me in that kind of mind-numbing emotional pain, horrified for my friend and the grief she’s feeling, and hurting so much for their kids.

I know we’re all human, and that, to some extent, explains how we get so caught up in the insignificant details of our lives and allow them to take up so much of our bandwidth that the really important things – I love you, you are special, I see you, you make a difference, I believe in you – don’t get said.

Any one of us could be gone in any moment for any reason, but we live – myself included – like there’s always going to be a tomorrow. I don’t want to live in fear of death, but I don’t want to get caught taking life for granted, either. So, for me, I’m going to practice being a little more present everyday. I’m going to say more of the important things, even if they seem out of the blue to those listening. And I’m going to be my real self more. Less conforming to expectations and more genuine expression of who I am and what I’m here to do.

Because, you know my grandkids and great-grandkids need stories of their crazy Grandma who slid into her grave with a big thud, exclaiming, “Whew! Ok! I’m ready. But, I’ll be baaaaaaccckkk!”

Keepin' it real in the bloggerhood,

“Probably not anytime soon, ” I say to myself, but do not share with him.

Today’s #Trust30 prompt is Surprise by Ashley Ambirge I am, along with every one else participating, tasked with thinking of a time when I didn’t think I was capable of doing something, but then surprised myself. How will I surprise myself this week?

And here’s the funny part – what’s so surprising to him is who I am turning into from his perspective. Of course, surprises seem to me like a given when your role in a relationship changes, but I guess he thought he knew the whole and real me, already.

But for this moment, it doesn’t matter what surprises him. This is supposed to be about how I will surprise myself by doing something I don’t think I can do.

Ok, I don’t think I can continue tip-toeing in this relationship just to keep him comfortable. I don’t think I can just go along anymore, and it feels like I have only two choices: disengage and detach, or let fly with what I really think about what I’ve seen going on, which, no doubt, will really surprise him. Because, you know, he keeps asking me what I think.

His surprise is that I don’t just automatically back his position.

My surprise might be that there is something else I can choose between the all or nothing I feel.

Keepin' it real in the bloggerhood,

Hence why I find meditation so difficult. Yet, also why I can’t leave it alone. But that whole issue is one of the thoughts I’m trying to turn off because it’s not the topic at the moment.

The one I want to think about is what explains the numerous and varied reasons humans create such conflict over stupid stuff.

I read “The War of Art” by Steven Pressfield recently. I bet he’d say that humans create conflict as a result of disconnection from Self. Because they live with their Egos in charge and the Ego wants everything – no matter how good, bad, or ugly it is – to stay exactly the same.

And why do we need everything to be exactly the same? So we can feel safe, of course. I was about to say that humans used to go after one another like crazy. But, what? Like we still don’t?

We do. All we’ve done is change how it shows up.

Then the thought pops into my head: Why?

My ever present friend. The question: “Why?”

The answer that comes to me is that so many people are still living on automatic pilot. Granted, more and more people are choosing to live a conscious life – and thank God for that – but by and large, so many people are still asleep at the wheel. They’re just going through the motions of daily living. Get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, watch TV, go to bed. Rinse and repeat.

So when you throw in some Change, it’s no wonder people go berserk. It’s like waking up in the middle of the night to go pee and someone moved the furniture all around in the room while you were sleeping. Shins are at risk! And it hurts when you bang into something you didn’t know was there!

I don’t think we can ever get rid of surprises in life, nor would we really want to. If we want everything to be the same because that’s what makes us feel safe, then it seems to me that we have to find another, more enduring source for that feeling of safety so we can accommodate Change and roll more gracefully with the punches.

There’s a saying something along the lines of “It takes great strength to be gentle.” I think, in the same vein, it takes great self-awareness to accommodate Change. And self-awareness for those still asleep at the wheel can be terrifying, at least at first. And terror, when we want safety, is the last thing we’re going to willingly sign up for.

I find my safety in my growing self-awareness and self-esteem. When you know yourself and value yourself, Change is not as scary, and I can much easier make like a duck and let the inconsequential things, the B.S. created by those around me resisting change, and the drama of it all roll right off my back. Not that I can accomplish this EVERY single time, but more and more often, I can.

Keepin' it real in the bloggerhood,

That might sound strange to you, but it’s true. I am almost pathologically unable to sit still, be quiet, not jump in and take charge, particularly if there’s a problem to be solved. I do know how to follow, but when there’s a gaping void of leadership, I can’t ignore it. I must fill it. It’s how I’m wired. It’s in my DNA.

The irony is that I am now tasked with coming up with – get this – a leadership project!

Here is what I know right now about this:

1. I enjoy what I do for a living, but I don’t know that I LOVE it. I can do it, yes, and while doing it, I usually do not want to put pins in my eyes over it, so that’s a plus, definitely. But I’m not sure I am able to give back to the world in as big a way as I’d like.

2. It may be that what I’m looking for is simply an extension of what I do. Some other form of it, maybe.

3. I worry that I don’t have the discipline required to make a dent in the Universe in a meaningful way. You can see my track record here at this blog is nothing like consistent. That’s how I’ve observed myself for years: Not consistent, but instead showing up in fiery, spontaneous bursts of inspiration and motivation…often, but not on a schedule. Not predictable. Dare I say it aloud…”not reliable.” [Gasp!]

Well, let me stop myself right here. That’s total horseshit. I am one of, if not the most, reliable people the folks who know me know, according to them. In fact, they might say the only way I’m not reliable is when it comes to championing myself. (Huh…well, look, folks…this paragraph is me doing exactly that. So, I’m learning.)

So, if I’m wired to lead, how can I lead more consciously, more purposefully, more authentically?

This is my question to live with today.

Keepin' it real in the bloggerhood,

A hundred different thoughts are vying for my attention, but as if I’d stepped outside of myself and am looking on, I’m struck by the moment. It’s quiet, it’s calm, and there’s a palpable question in the air for each of us. I only know for sure my own question. I can only imagine theirs.

“Do they, either one, have at least one memory of me filled with as much unmitigated joy as the soccer scene at the end of that movie?”

If I try to imagine not their questions, but their answers to mine, my heart begins to race.

For me, living an authentic life means showing up for what is…whatever that is. I know I have control over only myself, and sometimes even that is iffy, so it takes a certain amount of courage to get up each morning and attempt to live this day awake and aware. Because when you pay attention, when you engage, you feel. And my, haven’t we all spent a lot of time trying to avoid that on our paths to here…

I wonder sometimes if everyone else who wakes up and starts living their life on purpose has this same heart-racing, breathless feeling as frequently as I do? Or am I just still getting used to it? Is it even something I want to get “used to”?

Maybe not.

I know this much: Living this way is much more difficult, in many respects, having lived the more recent years of my life on the run trying to dodge it. I don’t know if everyone arrives at awareness worn the hell out, but I seem to have. I wish I could say I didn’t know what was happening the whole way through, but a part of me did. A part of me is now sitting, not in judgment, but in understanding sprinkled with just a tad of “it’s about damn time” of me. I can’t even be mad about it. I get it. I was there.

When I hear people describe this as “vibrating at a higher level”, I think to myself, “Damn, they’re not just whistling Dixie! This is something else!” In my mind’s eye, I imagine waving my hand, faster and faster, and faster still…trying to vibrate it at a higher level. I wave until I’m sure it’s going to fly off my wrist, but it feels like hard, hard work. Nothing like this “being in the flow” stuff.

But I’ve had that experience, too. And its different. It’s what I imagine my hand would feel like if I could wave it just a tiny bit faster. It would cease to be work and feel more like a jet taking flight. The hard, hard work of going against the forces of nature would be done and it would be in that flow.

So, living an authentic life requires sleep. It requires I take better care of myself, be kinder, slow down. I must remind myself that I am no longer on the run. That I can take a deep breath. Resting is no longer against the rules.

Living with awareness is a whole different ball game.

Keepin' it real in the bloggerhood,

There. I said it.

Awareness is that critical ingredient that makes playing dumb, ignoring what’s right in front of my face, just plain impossible for me.

But, I try…oh, how I try sometimes. But awareness always kicks my ass and wins.

Now, I don’t help myself much, either, I must admit. I am constantly putting myself in situations and environments where I’ll be challenged, forced to grow. I’ve often said this feels like running headlong into a belt sander. It’s messy and painful, yes, but also very effective.

Instead of becoming a fleshy mess on the floor, I always come away shinier. Buffed to a Suzanne-glow like no other. I have several very shiny spots now, and I’m proud of them. And I have plenty more rough spots still needing attention.

This is not a life for the timid or meek, I grant you. But when cursed blessed with vivid self awareness, there’s really no other path.

Oh sure, I could try to take the easier, softer path. But I’ve had the experience of feeling my own power – the power to choose, the power to make a difference, the power to change the direction of my life with a single decision, the power to connect with like-minded others, and oh holy shit when that happens and you feel your own power amped up by theirs?

Damn!

So, when I push myself and/or my life against the belt sander on purpose, it’s really an act of self love.

Keepin' it real in the bloggerhood,

Be not angry that you cannot make others as you wish them to be, since you cannot make yourself as you wish to be. ~Thomas à Kempis, Imitation of Christ, c.1420

I’ve spent an awful lot of time the last few years thinking about all the various ways I’ve handed over, given away, or misplaced my personal power. Not surprisingly, the ruminations began when I realized I felt powerless in just about every area of my life. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know what was keeping me stuck. I wanted to know why I was so miserable.

Of course, for a long time, I blamed others. Others hurt me, disappointed me, lied to me, betrayed me…and yes, that can create a pile of misery, for sure. I burned the fuel of mighty indignation for years. But it didn’t ever change anything, except to leave me tired, more miserable than ever.

All the while, there were others (albeit different others) who comforted me, supported me, told me the truth, and stood by me.

I spent years wishing the first group would change and be like the second group.

It dawned on me that the chains that kept me bound to those of the first group were not chains they put upon me, but were chains of belief…in me!

I think we each have a sense of how hard it is to go against the tide of the life you’ve created so far to create the life you really want to live, whether we’ve really tried to do it, or not. And since we seem to be able to see what others need to change so much more clearly than we can see what we need to change in ourselves, we think we can change other people more easily. We’re all delusional, it seems.

Keepin' it real in the bloggerhood,

Or maybe that’s just me rationalizing, since they seem just a breath away lately.

Sad tears.
Lonely tears.
Scared tears.
Bone-tired tears.
Nostalgic tears.
Frustrated tears.
Overwhelmed tears.
Happy tears.
Grateful tears.
Joyful tears.
Hopeful tears.

I think tears are the words we can’t say. Like emotional Ex-Lax, or something.

Keepin' it real in the bloggerhood,

Please watch it. I promise you’ll laugh at least once or twice (and if you’re a friend of Bill W’s, probably more.)

Keepin' it real in the bloggerhood,

And you begin to learn
that kisses aren’t contracts and
presents aren’t promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman
not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow’s ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting
for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn
that you really can endure
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye.
you learn…

I’ve loved this poem for a long time. I’m sharing it here because I hope it speaks to you, too.

(…but also to not lose track of it.)

Keepin' it real in the bloggerhood,