The Gift of Receiving

I’ve spent a lot of time lately thinking about creating tribes, about systems of support for who we are and what we’re doing in our lives, about the dynamics of giving and receiving in our encounters with others.

And it all come to total realization today. Really, it all hit me upside the head until it sunk in.

With two emotional days showing all over my face and no makeup, I made a video about one intense, transformational, connect-the-dots kind of days….one of those days where life wraps up all the answers you’ve been seeking (in more areas than one, since its all ultimately connected anyway), ties it up with a nice, magical bow and sets it in your lap.

And I did with it the best I could; I tried to convey what really can’t be conveyed.

This is raw and emotional and messy. And you know what? I don’t care. It’s here and I’m sharing it with you because it wants to be shared.

A message from the passenger’s seat from Tara Wagner on Vimeo.

“Each day offers us the gift of being a special
occasion if we can simply learn that as well as giving,
it is blessed to receive with grace and a grateful heart.”
- Sarah Ban Breathnach

Don’t miss the beautiful thoughts shared in the comments!

It’s Not You, It’s Me (Except When It’s Not Me)

Shadows

Most people think that shadows follow, precede or surround beings or objects. The truth is that they also surround words, ideas, desires, deeds, impulses and memories. – Elie Wiesel

Have you written or said something and been surprised by how others reacted? Maybe they took offense or took defense, maybe they were hurt or angered.

Or maybe something you read or heard felt like a slap to the face. Maybe it was about you and maybe it wasn’t, but you responded quickly and strongly.

I think we’ve all seen this happen. Dealing with emotions and reactions is a fact of life. We all have opinions and beliefs and that’s usually a good thing. :) But sometimes the shit hits the fan and those emotions begin flying all over the place. Feelings are hurt or arguments start because we can’t see two simple facts through all the drama.

  1. The fanned shit isn’t based on reality; it’s based on our stories, shadows of our perspectives. Stories are the things we’ve come to believe based on our experiences or the experiences of others. They aren’t 100% real because other people don’t always experience them, but they are real to us.
  2. It’s not always about you.

It’s Not You, It’s Me (Except When It’s Not Me and Is You)

I live a life based on my own beliefs. These beliefs have been shaped by my experiences and the stories I’ve developed. I speak from what I know, from my own understanding and from my own authenticity, moment to moment. I live, act and react in ways that make sense to me.

It’s about me.

Likewise, I know anything I feel about or however I react to someone else is also about me. It’s based on my own stories, my own beliefs, my own perspective. Even when I feel snappy or defensive or offended, I know it’s about me.

It’s not about you.

Moving from a place of authenticity about our own stories irons out most of the wrinkles in our messier interactions.

But even when we move from our own authenticity, we’re still bound to hurt someone’s feelings at some point, we’re likely to find ourselves within misunderstandings and despite our best intentions, and especially when we’re at our most authentic, we are going to offend others.

This doesn’t mean what you said was about them. It means how they responded isn’t about you.

Reactions are always about the reactor. Even when someone is intentionally trying to hurt or offend us, our feelings speak more about our stories than the facts of the situation. And this is true in regards to every single emotion: love, jealousy, anger, loneliness, excitement.

Beneath every reaction is a story.

Stories aren’t bad until they hold back, keep down or hurt you or others. As soon as someone feels hindered or hurt, it’s time to recognize the stories so that we can overcome them.

I’m constantly overcoming my stories. In fact the more you move toward living an organic life, the more inorganic stories you’ll be challenged to remove. (Seriously. I feel like I’m recognizing and overcoming my stories Every. Freaking. Day.)

Mine is a process with two parts:

1. Recognize Who Owns It

Every time the emotions start flying, the very first step I take is back. Before I can do anything I have to sort out my response from the other components. Walking away or holding onto my response gives me space to understand it.

Then I have to admit that my reaction is mine to own. I can’t blame or point fingers. I can’t play the victim role. I have to own it.

The same applies if someone responds to me with an exaggerated response: I have to recognize it’s not always about me, own my own reaction and allow the other person to have whatever experience they choose (by allowing them to own it or not).

Note to Self: You can’t make them own it. That’s their business. Meaning it’s not about you so butt out!

2. Dig Into It

When something virtually unrelated to me (or maybe totally related to me) rubs me the wrong way I know it’s time to question it and listen to the answers.

I know, even if I’m not ready to admit it, that it’s speaking to me (not about me) and with some truth I’m apparently resisting. Asking myself a few questions always opens me up to what is really going on:

  • Why does this bother me?
  • What other emotions is this triggering for me?
  • What is this reminding me of or what memories are associated with this?
  • What do I need to acknowledge in myself here?

Something similar can be done for others: Without judgment or assumptions we can try to understand their perspective and what shapes it. With compassion we can acknowledge where they are, have empathy for their experience and validate their reaction…all without owning it and without allowing it to own us.

Yes, owning our own stuff is uncomfortable. Digging into it can be downright excruciating. It can be a long, sometimes frustrating, process.

But knowing what makes us tick – knowing who we are and why – is crucial to liberating ourselves from the drama that surrounds us.

Keep this in mind the next time you get frustrated by your child’s words or hurt by your partner’s actions or when you read something you perceive as offensive or rude:

Only after we judge our emotions can we judge a situation.

Once you know who owns it, once you have some understanding or empathy for why it exists, only then can you move forward into finding the best way to handle it. (And that’s a process too.)

Join the conversation by subscribing to the comments!

Because conventional wisdom just isn’t natural…

them some fancy hiking boots

“Most of the shadows of this life are caused by our standing in our own sunshine.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Welcome back to The Organic Sister!

Things look a little differently over here. I’m nervously excited to show you!

If you’re reading things in a reader, email or other feed I’d love for you to come and see the small changes I’ve made. It isn’t much. In fact, most of the changes you’ll see will be in what you’ll read here in the future.

There are things I’ve been holding back, things I’ve been wanting to say about conventional wisdom but haven’t.

They are things about life, learning, love and our own authenticity.

But like Ralph said up there, I was creating a lot of shadows by standing in my own sunshine. And I’m not doing that anymore.

I’ve given myself permission to live up to my own potential, my own dreams. I’m breathing through fears, foregoing all that “conventional wisdom” and encouraging you to consider the same. I hope you’ll decide to join me as I shift gears here.

Wondering what all this is about?

It’s about being organic.

Being organic is about reconsidering conventional wisdom, following our own organic nature, living authentically and supporting that authenticity in others.

We can live our lives and love and grow in such a natural, organic way that our spirits heal and our relationships thrive and our mutual worlds change.

We can choose to be so organic that our very existence becomes a peaceful protest to the status quo and beautiful testament to our beliefs.

That is an excerpt from my free ebook, Be Organic: An Invitation to Change Your World.

You can access it and read more of what I’m talking about here:


Because conventional wisdom just isn’t natural…

I hope that you’ll read it, think about conventional wisdom in your own life and then come back here and let me know what your thoughts.

I also hope that it inspires you to join me, to share it with others and to use it to change your world.

You’ve been invited. Will you join me?

On Balance and Passion

Balance by Mari Dieumegard

Balance - artwork detail by Mari Dieumegard

This is my newest piece of art, a gift from the lovely Mari Dieumegard and I can’t wait to hang it in the new rig (I plan to have a real desk again – this will be above it).

I love this print, called Balance, especially right now. It reminds me to keep moving, to be daring, to go for it. It reminds me to keep my head up and my eyes on the goal but to enjoy the view and the company. It tells me to keep my arms and my heart open. And it feels powerful to me, but also carefree, as if it says “Look what amazing thing I can do on an average Sunday afternoon.”

Life has been a tightrope these past few weeks and through the madness I’ve had to harness that carefree, open-hearted power. I’ve had to remind myself of what I am capable of on any given day. It doesn’t always look like such an amazing daredevil feat but it sure feels like one.

I’m launching my new website on Tuesday with a BIG giveaway here on the blog and having a very real deadline with very cool sponsors can be a little daunting. Add to the mix a deep desire to not sacrifice our personal life, while also handling the emotional upheaval of so many changes and it was enough to elicit concern from loved ones.

It reminds me of this one from StoryPeople:

Tightrope by Storypeople

“Most people she never tells about the tightrope because she doesn’t want
to listen to their helpful comments from the ground.”

Yes, I was on a tightrope, one that looked unnecessary or dangerous at times. But I walked across it. It had its messy moments and moments where I nearly fell, but I took a risk. And for that I’m proud.

I’m also proud that I DO tell people about the tightrope, the challenge, the maddening moments of frustration, the days I want to quit. I’m proud that I have the courage to be vulnerable. It’s uncomfortable (for me and sometimes for others) but it makes my accomplishments all the more real for me.

I look at these two pieces of art and they remind me of what I so often forget: I am open, accepting of a challenge, ready to be daring, push my own envelope, take risks and grow. And as the madness winds down and I have time to lounge, I can look at those personal achievements and hurdles and feel good.

So how did I find this balance through the mad rush of work?

By accepting it wouldn’t look the way I thought it would.

It didn’t look like equaling doled out chunks of time. It didn’t look like me keeping up with my early morning routines or my physical therapy. It didn’t always look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Instead it looked like me passionately devouring my Task List, sometimes for hours on end, several days in a row. A few late nights and hectic days and lots of personal successes and reminders from my husband to eat or take a break. Then, right around the time my eyes went crossed, I’d pull back for days or weeks or even months at a time. I worked went I felt inspired to work, played when I felt inspired to play.

With Zeb immersed in a new computer game, we often sat side-by-side on our laptops, he sharing his accomplishments while I shared mine. And when you make your own schedule you get to do cool things like take your son on a lunch date or curl up in bed with your hubby all morning or stay in your pajamas on laundry day.

When I think of balance, I don’t think of how many hours I spend in each area of my life. I think of how I feel: how much time I spend doing what I love and enjoying it. That feels balanced.

That’s the purpose of life for me: enjoying the hell out of the adventure of living. And I feel balanced.

What’s balance look like in your life?

Evicted (and moving through it)

There is a reason I’m a writer. It’s how I process and understand where I am and Who I Am and what’s going on. I write not because I already have all the answers (although I do believe we all always have our own answers when we’re ready for them), but to find the answers in my heart.

I know myself. I know that I will be stuck until I have two things: a platform to express and the validation that Where I Am is okay. This blog gives me the first; my husband and all of your deep, thoughtful and soul-dripping comments give me the second.

There are times when we need to mope and be in the thick of it (we can’t get through it without going through it). It’s where I’ve been the past few days. Then there are times when Life snorts at your experience and throws another into the mix and you have little choice but to roll with it.

Yes, just less than 24 hours after the first blow, we were dealt another. And again, in reality, it’s not a really big deal. But when you’re already neck-deep in yuck, it sure feels like a kick in the teeth.

Yesterday we got a notice that we are not allowed to park Benny in front of my parent’s house. We had 72 hours to move. 72 hours to do what we wanted another two weeks to accomplish.

Oh trust me, I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry and throw a fit and curse the neighbor who complained. But I kept my composure…there were people present after all. Instead, I acquiesced to the moment, scraped my heart off the floor and allowed the experience to propel me.

Movement through madness is a healing salve.

As your kind words poured in, we packed up our household and moved it all into my parent’s garage. As your comments brought me to tears, we moved our clothing into their spare room. As I absorbed your love and your Truth, we got Benny ready to move - without us.

Moving Out

Moving In

I felt a little like a person getting ready to take her dog to the pound. Guilty and apologetic and tearful. We are attached after all, Benny and I. He’s my Dream-maker, my first liberator, and moving on from that grips at my chest.

Last night, with Zeb at a sleepover with his Gramma, Justin and I slept in Benny for the last time. And as we laughed and reminisced, in my heart I started to let go of my fear.

With the threat of entrapment still lingering over my dreams, watching Benny lumbering behind me down the road and leaving him behind at my father-in-law’s home for the time being took a lot of deep breaths. It was scary. On one hand it’s a necessary step. In order to get the new rig, we have to let the old one go.

Rear View Benny

Leaving Benny Behind

But in letting Benny go I was relinquishing my freedom. For awhile at least, I have no means of escape. He’s my last tangible tie to life on the road. And that, my friends, takes a large heaping of Trust.

I’m breathing deep. I’m trusting my dreams are real and valid and happening. I’m trusting our perseverance and ingenuity to keep us from stagnancy in this place we so badly don’t want to be. I’m (just barely, mostly unwillingly, hardly contentedly) trusting the timing of it all. And I’m trusting we are loved and not alone in this, too. I’m not alone in this.

Alone is a scary place to be. But I know it’s a place I choose. I push companionship away when I hurt. I hurt myself deeper, really. But I am loved and blessed. Justin knows me. He knows to hold me when I tell him I want to be alone. He gives me the space to Be and the space to grow, a space that just happens to be within his arms. And my once battered heart is reminded again that it’s a safe place to be.

Life is challenging me, offering a long-avoided opportunity to heal. It’s requesting I stretch in order to grow. These are my growing pains. This is my growth spurt. As hard as it is to say at times, I know this place is good.