When I wrote my book called The Bliss Mistress Guide To Transforming The Ordinary Into The Extraordinary, a chapter begged to be written that included my Wo-manifesto.
I live full out, regardless of what anyone thinks.
I refuse to dim my light for anyone so they don’t feel uncomfortable.
I accept all the abundance that the Universe offers.
I forgive myself and others for perceived slights.
I live with compassion both inwardly and outwardly.
I see my own beauty, without the yes but’s and if only’s, simply….as is.
I move with grace, dancing to whatever music I hear.
I sing out with enthusiasm.
I speak my truth.
I welcome in Love in all forms.
I refuse to second guess myself.
I tell the people in my life what they mean to me.
I keep my heart open.
I imagine beyond limitations.
I mirror back the beauty in others I encounter.
I walk barefoot literally and figuratively.
I refrain from ‘guilty pleasures’, only calling them pleasures.
I ask for what I want, knowing that I may not receive exactly as I have asked.
I accept what is for the Highest Good.
I embellish my body with colors, fabrics and designs that make me feel good.
I move on when a situation warrants it.
I sit with my own feelings, not pushing them away out of fear.
I surrender to ‘what is’.
I trust in Divine timing.
I unburden myself of excess baggage.
I am in integrity.
I am genuine and transparent…what you see is what you get.
I am learning to be subtle…also a new skill.
I say yes and no with equal ease.
I ask for what my work is worth without stuttering and expect to receive it.
I emotional bungee-jump, enjoying the ride in free-fall.
I stand in my own Truth.
I breathe.
As I am writing this, a brief few hours ago, I emerged from a full immersion experience known as The Woman Within Training. A weekend retreat, it is a brilliant combination of metaphor, experiential exercises and ritual, nourishment for body, mind, heart and spirit for women of all ages, lifestyles, cultures and experiences. Although it is not therapy, it has socio- psycho-spiritual value. I have friends who have encouraged me over the years to dive in. I dragged my feet and made excuses (time and money being the most vocal impediments, calling out in their best obnoxious lack and limitation voices) As Michael Beckwith is quoted as saying “You can start with nothing. And out of nothing, and out of no way, a way will be made.” While I didn’t start with ‘nothing,’ since the interest was already there and the seeds planted, the rest certainly applied. The available weekend and funds showed up as if on cue. The Universe knows when we are ready to blossom. The ground was fertile, the time right.
In preparation for the weekend, I tied up loose ends, took care of business, did laundry, packed, planned, made list upon list, met writing deadlines in advance of their due date just to be sure I had all my bases covered, all in the service of being able to clearly and without hesitation, enter into ‘me mode.’ That was my promise to myself, this recovering co-dependent caregiver whose ‘savior behavior’ often exhausted me and prevented others from taking charge of their own lives. As a therapist/coach/minister/facilitator, I pledged to refrain from taking care of anyone other than the woman in this birthday suit. Be careful when you make a promise since the Universe knows how to set the wheels in motion for that too. Within the first hour or so of the weekend, I was asked to take on a role that would have kicked my ‘go-to girl’ sensibilities into high gear. As flattering as it was, I graciously turned it down and not only did the floor not swallow me up, but I actually felt a sense of euphoria in the expression of the word ‘no,’ as flowed the first of many tears over the weekend.
Over and over, I was called on to keep my word to myself; so tempting it was to jump in and offer support when it was not requested or even needed. Each woman who attended had not only brought with her literal luggage, but symbolic baggage as well, that we courageously unpacked in the presence of the group, within the safe container of the elegantly designed and scrupulously supervised workshop modules.
My own experience brought with it a steamer trunk full of stuff that was in my face throughout our time together. Part of it came along with me, as my intention for the workshop was to face my gremlins that yammer at me that I’m not enough, can never do enough, need to people please and care take to earn approval and be relied upon. I am blessed to have grown up in a home with plenty of love and support in which I was told I could be whatever I chose, as long as I could support myself. There was no abuse, addiction or abandonment in my family. Somehow I took on the role of what I refer to as “Shirley Temple- everybody’s sweetheart, tap dancing for attention.” I have a ‘need to succeed,’ to dazzle and impress, to be the smarty pants with the answers for everyone and it came to me that I don’t have to prove nuthin’ to nobody and in doing so, encourage folks to tap into their own inner wisdom.
In the training, I knew I needed to let go of who I thought I was so that the essence of who I am could come through. I had been a consummate chameleon who adapted to fit the situation and the needs of the people in it. In that disingenuous state, people were only able to see the mask that I wore. This weekend, the mask was off and I allowed the women to witness my true colors.
My greatest challenge was to keep my empath-self from vicariously taking on the experiences that some of the other women had endured in their lives. I wasn’t successful in that endeavor, since I had a pounding headache in which I could literally feel the blood pulsing in my entire head for much of the weekend. It wasn’t until I acknowledged my own deeply buried pain and wounded places, that the healing took hold and after wrenching sobs over the losses in my life; most powerfully, the death of my beloved mother in 2010, that the headache subsided.
Within the deep silence of my own mind, which is often a cacophony of thoughts vying for attention, I found a sense of peace, hearing from a facilitator that ‘choosing silence isn’t the same as being silenced.’ I found that the less I spoke, the more powerful the messages that came to/through me; some in vivid dreams, including one in which moths swarmed out of a closet. (Wonder what THAT’s about? she asks, tongue in cheek) others in nature and still others offered by staff and participants.
As we stood in the closing circle at the end of this intensely personal and yet ultimately universal experience of what Joseph Campbell referred to as The Hero’s Journey, I felt great admiration and gratitude for these brave souls who dared to bare their deepest heart longings and the team who midwifed us into a new sense of ourselves. I claimed for myself that I am enough AS IS; my own woman.
