Good at Life

inspirational tidbits for living authentically
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    • Taking things to the next level- I’ve started a business! And that’s not all…

      Posted at 4:47 pm by Dara, on June 1, 2016

      1-david-marcu

      6 years ago this month I was unemployed and living with my parents.  That’s when I started this blog.

      It took almost a year to find my next job and I only stayed 9 months.  After that I co-founded a non-profit that didn’t become a success and I eventually returned to a real estate office, once again with someone else dictating how much money I made, when I had to work, and where I had to work.  This works great for lots of people.  It doesn’t work for me.  After 9 months (seemingly the maximum amount of time I can handle having a boss) I left that job and decided once and for all that I needed to be the driver. I needed to steer my own career.

      And here I am!  I just completed (like today!) my certification as a life coach, specializing in positive psychology coaching. I’ve got my website up and running and I am ready to begin! But first, I need more practice.  This brings me to a very special opportunity for you, my long time loyal Good at Life reader.  I am offering FREE coaching sessions to a very small number of people.  This is so that I can refine my skills (which are already quite good, I must tell you) before getting out there and charging folks money.

      All you need to bring to the table is a commitment to getting clear, focused, and motivated to live your best life.  Can you handle that?  Then I want to hear from you! Visit my site, subscribe to the community to get free content forever, and contact me to talk more about coaching with me.  I’d love to hear about how I can help you live more happily and more successfully.  Whether you know what you’re seeking to achieve or aren’t sure yet, I can help.

      I will begin blogging on the site and writing a newsletter, so sadly, I won’t be continuing with Good at Life, but I hope you’ll stay connected with me through Mud Coaching.  Ok, why mud?  Well, one of my mantras that I have been living by is “no mud, no lotus”.  It’s a great reminder that our struggles are the foundation of success. Just as the beautiful lotus is born out of the mud, our successes are born out of struggle. Hard times remind me that I am progressing.  I want my clients to embrace that and remember it also.

      It’s also an acronym for My Ultimate Desire (M.U.D.)- the vision of the future I as a coach help you clarify and begin working toward.  When we’re feeling overwhelmed by struggles, it helps, I find, to recall what it is we are ultimately struggling for and this gives us the strength and fortitude to keep going, even when it hurts, because we know it’ll be worth it when we get through it.

      You can also stay in touch with my via my Facebook Page, where I share all kind of tips for getting and staying focused, motivated, and courageous in the pursuit of your dreams.  Please connect with me there! Until we meet again, thank you for reading and supporting my crazy and wild adventure of a life so far.

      Having been through being unemployed, divorced, a failed business venture, being shunned by my family and so much other hard stuff and having come out on the other side thriving and happy, I know I can be a great coach to anyone trying to overcome adversity or make big changes in their lives.

      I know I can help others (like you!) be themselves and enjoy it- to be good at life. 🙂

      Cheers!

      Dara

      Posted in Adventures, Stories | 0 Comments | Tagged change, dreams, happiness, life, life coach, mud coaching, risk, success
    • The Late Bloomer Advantage: 5 Benefits of Blooming Later in Life

      Posted at 3:00 pm by Dara, on April 18, 2016

      Late Bloomer_

      I’ll tell you, there is nothing better in life than being a later bloomer.  I believe that success can happen at any time and at any age. -Salma Hayek

      When I was a young girl I wanted to be an actress. And a singer. And a screenplay writer, a teacher, an interior designer, a psychologist, a journalist, a novelist and, ok fine, I wanted to be a model, too. For a brief minute I wanted to be a fashion designer, but that was just a phase.

      By the end of middle school, I noticed many of my friends and classmates already attaching themselves to a single title. Pilot. Architect. Artist. Embalmer. Pediatrician. Nurse. Cake Decorator.  Some of them were even already talking about college.  While they were contemplating their choices- Rutgers, NYU, Montclair, Fairleigh Dickinson, William Paterson, Bergen (I grew up in NJ)- I was wrestling with what to name my newest barbie doll. Sharon, Melissa, Cassie, Vanessa, Sarah, Oooh, Whitney. I adored the name Whitney.

      After my high school graduation, still not being pulled in any one particular career direction, and incredibly relieved to be out of school, I went to work at the mall. And then in an office. And then at a spa. And then at a health clinic. And then in a real estate office. I moved around- Florida, North Carolina, California, Germany. After 30, I started getting nervous. After 35, I was terrified. I’d read tons of books and explored various different interests, but still, nothing was calling me loudly. Nothing clicked. Nothing felt like the thing I was meant to do. Not yet.

      I always felt at least a few steps, if not miles, behind other people my age. I played with toys until I was almost 14. It took me a long time to mature emotionally and intellectually, and I had to learn most of life’s valuable lessons the hard way. Throughout early adulthood, I was stubborn and was never willing to take anyone’s word for anything. I was the kind of kid and young adult that needed to see for myself, not one willing to learn from other people’s advice and experiences.

      But it wasn’t all for naught. All the jobs, the zip codes, the relationships, the experiences of joy, of frustration, of disappointment, of hope- they all taught me things, great things. Things about myself, about life, about success and failure. Things I needed to know that would prepare me for doing the work that I am born to do. To identify the thing I was born to do. I thought the time would never come when I knew what that was, when I had a clear vision of what I wanted to be and how to get there. And though much later than many of my friends and peers, I finally saw it. It finally clicked.

      Now I am grateful that it took until I was nearing 40. I realize that I needed it to happen this way.  I can see and appreciate that clearly now. As the saying goes, timing is everything. In the case of being a late bloomer, nothing happens until we’re ready. And when we’re ready, it happens- the seeds of greatness within us blossom.

      I’ve identified several ways in which we late bloomers, through our age and experience, are set up for success, and I’d like to share them with you.  The 5 benefits of blooming late:

      1. Mortality Awareness: For me, it was just after I turned 30 that I thought for the first time, oh shit, I am getting older.  I’m gonna die one day.  Suddenly, I knew I didn’t have forever to just fuck around.  My days were precious, and I had to live them the way I really want to. Of course, none of us immediately just stop wasting time and living every moment with intention and presence. But late bloomers realize time is precious, and it becomes a priority to be selective; to honor whatever time we have, because it will run out.
      2. Long-term Relationships: By now we’ve established trusting relationships and formed a tribe. We know exactly who our true friends are and who will show up for us. We also just generally know a lot of people and have a go-to person for whatever it is we need. This really comes in handy when we embark on something new- like a career or a business! We know we won’t have to do it alone. And if we don’t know someone who can help us, someone we know does.
      3. Self-Awareness:  We late bloomers know ourselves quite well. We have identified and contemplated our strengths and our weaknesses, our beliefs and philosophies, our successes and failures. We also know by now what others see in us, because we’ve heard the same compliments over and over again. We know where we excel, and what we have to offer the world around us.  We know what’s really important to us. We also have learned to trust our intuition, because we’ve been around long enough to know it’s always been right. All of this enables us to make wise choices, ones that are truly good for us, when it comes to pretty much anything. We don’t waste a lot of time trying to decide if something is right for us. We tend to know when it isn’t and can more easily move on.
      4. Less Risk Aversion: At this stage, we’ve gotten back up and dusted ourselves off enough times to know it’s never gonna be as bad as we make it out be in our minds. Whatever it is- a break up/divorce, getting fired, quitting, losing a bet, missing the bus, facing rejection… we’ve always survived, and we know we always will. We know that the only regrets we ever have are the risks we don’t take.
      5. Confidence: With experience comes knowledge and we have a good bit of knowledge on our side by now. Knowledge of our selves- our abilities and limitations. We know what we’re capable of.  But we’ve also watched others rise and fall, and we’ve learned from their experiences. At this point in our lives, we know at least a little bit about a lot of things. There are very few things in life that are brand new territory for us. The direct experience and exposure to other’s experiences combined gives us the confidence to pursue new things because not much is totally unfamiliar. We know what we’re doing, more or less, most of the time. What we don’t know we know we can learn.

      While less experienced people may be more paralyzed by fear of the unknown when opportunity arises, a late bloomer has the knowledge, resources, and relationships, as well as the courage, to take chances and seize opportunities. As long as we can be patient and keep moving, experimenting, and growing, we will bloom. We will become the people we are meant to be. We will do the work we are born to do.

      While feeling behind for all those years caused me a lot of grief and anxiety, it was worth it. Many of my friends ended up going to college and starting careers in their 20’s only to decide they weren’t satisfied with the paths they’d chosen, and that caused them a lot of grief and anxiety, too. Some went in new directions, others stayed put because of the time and energy they’d already invested or because they were afraid to take the risk. Some are still searching, and a few chose well early and never looked back.

      There are many different paths to discovering our purposes. No two paths are the same. We must honor our own path and trust its design and timing, because while some are prepared early, others need more time. We late bloomers need more time, and that’s totally okay. In fact, that’s fantastic, because there are so many unique and treasurable adventures and lessons along the way. It’s about the journey, after all. Along the journey, we collect clues to our own success. We get to discover exactly what success means to each of us individually and decide how to be successful in our own unique way.

      Are you a late bloomer? Do you have anything to add to this list? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

      Some notable late bloomers:

      Meryl Streep (actor), Alan Rickman (actor) Rodney Dangerfield (actor), Grandma Moses (painter), Carmen Herrera (painter), Colonel Sanders (business person), Jerry Lewis (film director), David Mamet (film director), Mary Wesley (writer), Charles Bukowski (writer)

      Be you and enjoy it!

      Posted in Adventures, Stories | 2 Comments | Tagged career, life, passion, personal growth, purpose, relationships, success
    • I didn’t belong in my family, so I left

      Posted at 1:32 pm by Dara, on November 2, 2015

      black_sheep

      October 20, 2014, just over one year ago, was the last time I saw or spoke to my parents. For over a decade before that I averaged about one conversation per year with my mother, a monthly or bi-monthly phone call with my dad, and I rarely saw them throughout that time. I was never invited to family gatherings or celebrations. Only my dad once came to visit and would call occasionally to check-in with me. I’ve had virtually no contact in 10 years with my brother and less than a handful of interactions with my sister. I’ve met my niece, Sofia, who is now turning 6 years old, 2 times.

      As a child I was a daddy’s girl. I am the oldest of 3 and was, for a long time, my father’s favorite. We were both night owls, up till 11 on a school night, dipping cookies into milk and talking about the planets and stars. Since we were both quick-tempered and stubborn, we’d fight. But before the lights went out, daddy was knocking on my door and we’d talk softly, wrap each other in a big hug, and makeup. These are some of my most cherished childhood memories.

      My mom never liked me much. Of course she never said that, but I just knew. The way she looked at me and talked to me made it clear. Everything about me- the way I looked, the way I dressed and styled my hair, the way I acted, the things I did and how I did them- was a disappointment to her. Even the way I sat seemed to annoy her. My sister was a “girly-girl” who wore fluffy dresses and ribbons in her hair- my mother adored that. My brother was sensitive and obedient. I was my father’s child.

      My father drank for the first 14 years of my life and my mother was miserable. All of us were, in one classic form or another, a product of the alcoholic environment. It was all we could do to exist in the world in a way where no one could detect how damaged we were, as a family or as individuals. My mother’s mask was that of the entrepreneurial woman who was cool, calm, and always in control. My brother’s was that of the class clown. My sister’s that of the loud, opinionated girl who didn’t care what anybody thought of her.

      I wore whatever mask fit the occasion.

      When I was 12 years old, an old man came to our front door bringing “the good news of the kingdom.” We started going to “meetings” with this man 3 times a week to study the bible. We received additional, individual one-on-one bible lessons at home. We changed our religion and tried to become different, better people. We tried to become a healthy family. We tried to be righteous. It didn’t work.

      At 21 I left home, and at 23 I left that religion. Now, as an adult, I chose a different path for myself. This was not an acceptable choice for my family. For the next 10 years they would distance themselves from me, using the withholding of their love as a tool to emotionally blackmail me into re-subscribing to their way of thinking.   A few times it almost worked. I love them. I miss them. There were times the pain was too great. But ultimately, my desire to live authentically and be who I am prevailed. I clung to the life of my own choosing.

      I took everything I could get, though, during those 10 years. I had no control, zero, over when and how often I could see or speak with my siblings. It was always up to them. If I were coming to town they would make a “conscience” decision as to whether they were ok with seeing me or not. I always hoped they would choose to; sometimes they did and sometimes they didn’t.

      Being the one least overtaken by the teachings and laws of their faith, Dad was most willing to keep the lines of communication open. But over recent years he has became more and more sucked into it all, and as a result more judgmental and self-righteous toward me. Shame, judgment, criticism blame. Shame, judgment, criticism, blame. I am worldy, I am immoral, I am an apostate. In their eyes I had become little less than their enemy, and they treated me as such.

      The situation had become so hostile, that when I reluctantly when to visit them last fall in the midst of my marriage falling to pieces, I knew I was no longer able to continue in the family. To be torn to shreds for every action, every choice, every move by anyone is an unhealthy, toxic, and dangerous situation. To be reduced to shreds by your own parents is an abomination.

      What was meant to be a week-long visit lasted barely 3 days. By the end of that second night I knew I didn’t belong there anymore. I’m not sure I ever really did. I love my parents, and in their way I know they love me. But there is no love in action. They can see only difference, not sameness. Their lens is strictly a ‘us vs. them’ lens and I am not with them so I must be against them. And so I left. I packed my things and their fervent disapproval of my being, and I left. And I have not looked back. And I have no regret.

      be you and enjoy it

      Posted in Musings, Relationships, Stories | 2 Comments | Tagged change, courage, family, individuality, life, love, regret, religion
    • Life on the other side: 3 months after goodbye

      Posted at 5:36 am by Dara, on May 12, 2015

      There’s a saying that goes, “leap and the net will appear.”  That’s one scary leap when there is no net in sight. I’ve made several of these throughout my life, but this last one might have been the scariest. Maybe it’s because I’m older now and making a habit of over-hauling my whole life suddenly seemed a bit, I don’t know, immature. ‘Is this becoming a pattern?’ I wondered.

      But as I thought through my situation- being in an unhappy marriage without a mutual desire to fix it while living in a foreign country away from my family and friends- and looked at it from every angle it just seemed very clear- this time the over-haul seemed like the absolute most rational thing to do. More rational than almost every other time, with the exception of my choice to leave a cultish religion which included severing ties with very close family members.

      Neither time did I leave one familiar life for a new well-defined and planned out one.  I left a life I knew for a life that had very little certainty at all.

      3 Months ago I left Germany bound for my old home of Asheville, NC knowing only that I had friends who would support me in the building up of my new life. I had no job, no address of my own, and no prospects. I had no idea if it’d take me 6 months, 1 year, or a week to find a job.  I didn’t know if living with friends I’d never lived with before would actually work out well, or if we’d end up in a tense situation.

      What I did know was that it was the right thing to do, to leave the situation I was in, and that this action alone would uncover opportunities, relationships, & experiences I couldn’t possibly foresee that would be a part of creating a life that was right for me.  By that same token I knew if I had stayed where I was out of fear of the unknown, I would continue to suffer and success of any kind wouldn’t be possible. I’d be stuck. I don’t want to spend any time in this one shot I get at life stuck.

      So I said goodbye. I got on a plane. I landed in Charlotte. I drove to my best friend’s house and hung out for a couple of weeks with her and her kids in Wilmington. I spent almost all of the money I had on a car. And then I drove to Asheville.

      Today, nearly 3 months after my arrival I am enjoying the benefits of trusting my intuition, and ultimately, of trusting life. I’m living with my good friend and her husband and son, who I also now consider my good friends. They have a beautiful house on a mountain and I’m surrounded by nature and wildlife and fresh air every day, as well as love, acceptance, and laughter. I feel so welcome.  They’ve told me several times that I’m welcome to stay as long as I need. I think they actually enjoy my being here!  Woot to that!

      I’ve also been working for over a month at a job I really enjoy.  It started out as part-time and as of this week it is a full-time position. I have weekends and evenings off and get to arrange my schedule however I like.  The people I work with are great and I definitely see the possibility of developing good friendships with some of them.  The job came about through a friend, and it was only the second job I interviewed for just one week after I began searching.  So lucky!

      I’ve reconnected with old friends and I’ve also met plenty of incredible new people.  I’m never lonely, and I’m never bored! My ex and I are managing to stay in touch and be friends.  I didn’t necessarily expect that, but I’m really enjoying it.  I really feel that he cares for me and wants me to be happy, and I want the same for him.  I’m so grateful that we’ve managed to achieve peace between us.  It’s really wonderful to not have to carry the burden of resentment, anger, or blame over the failure of our marriage.  We’ve accepted our reality, and we’ve gotten beyond it.

      Things are going very well for him as well!  I’m not the only one enjoying successful outcomes after our difficult split.  He has found a great new job and is moving to Asia.

      I’m hoping that sometime this summer, my little fur ball and I will be into our own dwelling and I’ll have achieved yet another level of independence.  For now I’m working and saving money, enjoying my relationships and continuing to nurture myself and be grateful for the people in my life who receive me with open arms and offer themselves in times of need. It’s not always easy to accept help, but it’s good to remember that it’s an opportunity not only for me but the ones who show up for me.  Giving and receiving are both healing and nurturing practices.

      So that’s the update! The takeaway: listen to your gut. Trust yourself. Trust life.

      Be you and enjoy it!

      Posted in Lifestyle, Musings | 2 Comments | Tagged change, divorce, growth, life, marriage, moving, transformation, transition
    • Who’s on your life’s board of directors?

      Posted at 10:55 pm by Dara, on March 5, 2015

      Boardroom

      A friend of mine shared a brilliant idea with me this morning. It’s something a friend of her’s had recently shared with her. Her friend had told her that she has created an imaginary board of directors for her life; a board of individuals she has selected to turn to for guidance when she feels she needs it. Her board members range from the living to the dead, and from close friends to current public figures. They comprise a variety of world views, attitudes, and philosophies. A good balance of minds from whom to glean ideas and advice. I decided immediately that I needed my own board.

      In a moment of confusion, one can turn to their board and channel the attitude of, say, Gandhi: “so what do ya think, Gandhi? Should I or shouldn’t I slash the tires of the motherf*#$er who unapologetically peeled into that parking space at Chipotle that I so clearly had my blinker blinking for?” Or if you find yourself taking yourself a bit too seriously, Jimmy Fallon could always be there for you, reminding you that life should be fun and playful, and that while there is a time to pay the bills and make the grocery list, there must also be time to master your Bob Dylan impression and practice perfectly lip syncing along to Mr. Roboto.

      I now have an 8 person board. I chose a close friend who is absolutely a role model for me; A hindu goddess; three authors, two living, one deceased; a zen buddhist monk; a philosopher; and a deceased journalist and peace activist who was very courageous, open-hearted, and wise. I felt this collective struck a balance that represents me as I currently am, as well as the person into whom I wish to evolve. The process was a lot of fun and I just had to share it. If you had a board of directors for your life whose purpose was to oversea and guide the activities and decisions of your life, who would be on it and why?

      Be you and enjoy it!

      Posted in Musings | 2 Comments | Tagged choices, growth, guidance, life
    • My last (wickedly painful) weekend in Deutschland

      Posted at 2:10 pm by Dara, on February 6, 2015

      I’m trying, but I’m graceless
      Don’t have the sunny side to face this
      I am invisible and weightless
      You can’t imagine how I hate this. -The National

      My stomach is in knots. A lump forms in my throat sporadically & spontaneously throughout the day. The National’s album ‘Trouble Will Find Me’ plays in a continuous loop when I’m not sleeping.

      It’s a kind of death, ya know.  This self-imposed death sentence was determined months ago, and the countdown is in its final days- 5-4-3-2-1- to the expiration of my married life. To the end of my European life. To the end of one vision of my future.

      The pain is much greater than I expected. It seemed to fit that because we feel so confident in our decision to part ways, and that because it is mutual, it would be easier. It’s not. I’m in a constant state of anxiety, surely exacerbated by the fact that we’ve been living together for almost 2 months, unable to really carry on with our lives. We’ve just been stuck here together, but not together. It’s been hard to know how to be. It’s been impossible to process the normal stages of grief while still in each other’s presence. It’s been very confusing.

      I’ve been desperately longing to leave and absolutely dreading it all at once. I imagine the final night, the final morning, the final moments. It’s unbearable and I can’t picture anything but a total meltdown. Not a meltdown of regret (or perhaps a smidge of regret), or heartbreak (ok, maybe a little bit of heartbreak), or fear (ok, a bit of fear).

      Rather, (mainly) a surrender. A surrender to the truth of our demise; to the consequence of too much anger & rigidity, not enough understanding & compassion, too little effort, vulnerability, and follow-through, and just enough resentment and pride to choke the life, and the love, out of “us”. To the fact that we are both responsible for this.

      I’ve spent weeks trying to figure out what should become us: Should we stay friends? Should we stay open to trying again some day? Should we just totally disconnect? But I finally realize that I don’t have to figure that out now, or ever. I just need to live my life. And he needs to live his. And what will be will be. For now I have to just get through all of these changing emotions and beliefs about him and us and what happened.

      Some days I think it was doomed from that start and that nothing we could have done would have led to a different outcome. Nothing would have made us suitable for each other. We’re just too different, I tell myself. Way too different. Other days I succumb to blaming him for how hurt I am and for it being over, and I want to punish him. I want to cut him off forever.

      I think, if he had really loved me he would have been open to counseling, he would have decided we were worth the work, he would have fought for us. Other times I conclude that our issues were about far more than misunderstandings and/or failure to effectively communicate. They instead stemmed from vast differences of character, values, and personality. We really are like night and day, he and I. Water and oil.

      In truth, I actually believe the reality is somewhere in between. We are very different, but with a lot of devotion and hard work, who knows what would have been possible. In the beginning, I chose him largely because of our differences; for what he could teach me by the way that he was, which was in certain ways what I wanted to become more of. The hardest part for me is feeling that we didn’t honor our commitment to the max. We didn’t live up to our promises.

      Marriage is hard because it reflects back to us the good, the bad, and the ugly within ourselves. We have to be ready to see it, own it, and transform what needs to be transformed. We have to be willing to be challenged; to learn and to grow from our marriage. We have to be willing to struggle and feel uncomfortable. We need to be willing to be wrong. To forgive. To be taught. To recognize our interdependence.

      But first, we need to be ready. Apparently, we weren’t ready. And that’s okay.

      Our first date was on Feb, 25th 2010, almost exactly 5 years ago.

      us

      Quiet, shy blue-eyed boy meets feisty, talkative, dark-haired Jersey girl, and asks her to dinner. A simple beginning. Little did we know then that we would challenge, push, stretch, and pummel each other (figuratively speaking, of course) beyond anything either of us could have ever anticipated. Definitely beyond what either of us would have chosen, had we known going in. Hopefully we’re both better for it. I know I am.

      He hurt me deeply. I’ve hurt him tremendously. He’s taught me great things. He’s given me so much. I don’t regret marrying him. I hope he doesn’t regret marrying me. I still love him. His crystal blue eyes still transfix me, his smile still charms me, his laugh still delights me, his embrace still consoles me. I will miss him terribly, for awhile. I’ll be grateful for him always.

      Be you and enjoy it.

       

       

       

       

      Posted in Life Abroad, Relationships | 1 Comment | Tagged divorce, forgiveness, gratitude, heartbreak, life, love, marriage
    • Today is a day when it just hurts like hell

      Posted at 5:12 pm by Dara, on February 1, 2015

      I don’t think anybody whose ever been divorced can tell you divorce is easy or fun or feels like anything other than a tremendous failure. -Sharon Stone

      Today I am a puddle of sadness. These last few weeks have been a tumbling of various emotions, but now that my departure from Europe, from my soon-to-be ex-husband, from the road I’ve been traveling on for the last 5 years- the road that led to a long life in Germany, staying married, half German kids (should we have been lucky enough to have them), fresh-baked pumpkin-seed-speckled bread in the mornings, the sounds of church bells every 15 minutes forever, and the heaven that is German Christmas Markets- is only a week away, I’m falling apart.

      We did what we could; what we were willing and able to do. In the end we decided we needed to part. It was the best choice. It is the best choice. It’d be nice, though, if that fact were enough to ease the agony. But it isn’t. Sometimes what’s best for us burns, because it isn’t with ease that we tear ourselves from the hot grip of a dream that, as it turns out, isn’t meant to be, no matter how clear its not-meant-to-be-ness has become to us.

      If my life were a novel, I might simply go back a few chapters and rewrite the story, take a divergent road back then, and author a different, less painful outcome. Maybe even a full on happily ever after. But my life isn’t fiction- it’s real life. And in real life we can’t go back and rewrite the story. And even if we could, would we? Should we? Would I really want to do it over, to decide not to marry him? No. I would still marry him. And I would still be here, knowing I need to go but scared to go. Scared to go, but going anyway.

      This is my journey. This is the life I built with my choices, choices I made in pursuit of my dreams; Dreams that can’t be lived without risks; Risks that have built into them occasional failures; Failures that are meant to teach me valuable lessons about what’s holding me back and what’s moving me forward in the creation of the life I’m trying to build. A life that I have much less control over than I think I do, and more than it feels I do.

      There are days, like today, where I’m a puddle on the ground, unable to put myself back into solid form. Then there are other days when I’m scared to death, so filled with anxiety about all that could go wrong, all that might not come to pass, all that I might later regret, that I’m paralyzed, literally unable to move, and barely capable of breathing. And still there are other days, the best days, when I feel light and empowered. I made a difficult choice, but having made it somehow emboldened me. I had known what needed to be done and I had done it. I look toward the future with excitement, aware of the endless stream of possibility that lies before me.

      And finally there are the days where what I feel changes hour-by-hour, even moment-to-moment. Today is a day when it just hurts like hell. It isn’t easy. Divorce, that is. As I spend the days packing up my things, going through closets and drawers and boxes full of keep-sakes, there is evidence everyplace that once upon a time, not very long ago, we believed in us. We believed in forever. We believed we were capable of this, of this marriage. And we believed ourselves incapable of leaving it, of leaving each other.

      I remember it, but I almost can’t believe that it was really like that then. And that it’s nothing like that now. But it’s true, it was. And it’s true, it no longer is. And it’s true that we, very soon, in one week from now, no longer will be here. He’ll be here. I’ll be way over there. It’s true that right now it hurts. My God, how it stings and burns and cuts. But it’s also true that much sooner than will seem right or fair, I’ll struggle to recall most things about this life as a wife in Germany, and about him, my ex-husband.

      One week. One week and a fresh blank page will appear. A new chapter will begin. Sometime after that, it will not hurt anymore. And in the end I will be happy and grateful for all of it.

      Be you and enjoy it.

      Posted in Musings, Relationships | 4 Comments | Tagged change, divorce, fear, happiness, life, love, marriage
    • January 31- Fear

      Posted at 1:36 am by Dara, on February 1, 2015

      Fear keeps us focused on the past or worried about the future. If we can acknowledge our fear, we can realize that right now we are okay. Right now, today, we are still alive, and our bodies are working marvelously. Our eyes can still see the beautiful sky. Our ears can still hear the voices of our loved ones. – Thich Nhat Hahn

      A few years ago I read a book called The End of Fear: A Spiritual Path for Realists. This book was one that I randomly gravitated toward in a used book store and ended up being completely transformed by. The general message in it was one that strongly resonated with me: fear is not something to fight or avoid or overcome.

      It is not an enemy that threatens our happiness, as we are often told by mainstream “gurus”. Rather, fear is an expression of love; in particular, our love of life. We love life so much, and fear is what we experience in the face of a real or perceived threat to our ability to continue living, or living just as we currently and contently are. Every one of us shares this vulnerability.

      Instead of battling with fear, the authors’ advice was to turn to fear with compassion. To understand it. And then to graciously acknowledge it’s very useful purpose while assessing the validity of the fear response from circumstance to circumstance. Sometimes we are fearful for very good reason, sometimes the fearful reactions are, at best, unmerited, and we can choose to move through them once we conclude that the coast is clear. Other times we see some cause for worry, but we proceed anyway and with caution.

      I like to imagine fear as my over-protective mother. In each case she means absolutely well. I realize that, and therefore I know there is not need to fight my mother off, or to see her as an enemy who wishes to hold me back. Naturally, my mother wants me to succeed in life and go far. But she worries, she knows the world can be dangerous, and so she makes sure I am aware of the potential risks and harms I could face.

      Sometimes there is cause to listen to her. For instance, she may insist that I hold off on driving up to our family cabin, about a 1.5 hour drive, until the morning because it’s beginning to snow and there are warnings of a potential blizzard. She loves me very much, and worries that I may have an accident or get stuck on the freeway for hours, or all night.

      She’s right, getting caught in a tumultuous snow storm could be quite hazardous and there is some risk of having an accident or getting stuck for hours on the freeway. But I notice it’s only just begun to snow very lightly, it isn’t sticking yet, and the trip is not very long. I decide to take my chances. She’s not happy, nagging me on as I pack my bag, and while I value her concern and have considered her advice, I’ve decided to go ahead with my plan.

      Fear, as I’ve come to understand it, is my internal protective “mom”. It’s rooted in my love of life and is tasked with the job of protecting me from harm or death. Therefore, fear is definitely a friend, not a foe. Fear can get the best of us and hold us back if allow it too, just like if we listen to mom’s every concern we might never leave the house in bad weather, after dark, or alone. But we know that mom’s just being mom, and now we know that fear is just being fear. Sometimes it’s legit, and sometimes it’s being paranoid.

      It’s up to us to ascertain the right time to listen to it, and when to say thank you, fear, for making me think about that, but I’m pretty sure there’s no need to be afraid on this one. I’m going for it. OR, yeah, fear, this is a little scary indeed, but I’m going for it anyway!

      There’s great reason to be thankful for our fear responses. But that’s hard to do when we feel paralyzed by fear, frozen in place and unable to move forward. That’s why I think it helps to understand that the root of our fear is our love of life. And that to live the best kind of life, the most rewarding life possible, we don’t need to stop being afraid. We need, instead, to feel our fear, and, more often than not, do the thing that scares us anyway.

      Be you and enjoy it!

       

       

      Posted in Musings, Relationships | 0 Comments | Tagged fear, life, love, spirituality, wisdom
    • January 30- Belief

      Posted at 12:33 am by Dara, on January 31, 2015

      One life is all we have and we live it as we believe in living it. But to sacrifice what you are and to live without belief, that is a fate more terrible than dying. -Joan of Arc

      As I’ve been living my life, I’ve been continuously figuring out what I believe. What I believe about God. What I believe about success. What I believe about love. What I believe about sex. What I believe about men. What I believe about women. What I believe about money. About work. About race. About war. About politics. About marriage. About sexuality. About parenting. About climate change. About feminism. About death. About animals. And on and on.

      It’s this whole process we all (hopefully) go through, from being told what we believe as young people (or at least grow up with our parents’ beliefs on loan), to growing up and questioning whether or not those are really our own beliefs, to then ourselves carefully examining those beliefs, and, ideally, for the first time in our lives, opening up our minds to considering other points of view, so that we can come full circle, now informed and having thought, to decide if we’ll maintain our inherited beliefs or if we’ll change them.

      And then, if we keep our minds open (but not so open that our brains fall out, as the advice from Carl Sagan goes) as we move forward through life, then we might change our minds a few more times as we give even closer consideration to the arguments and evidence of various vantage points we’ll encounter along the way. We’ll aim to ultimately make the choices that most accurately reflect our personal ethics, values, and understanding of the facts.

      This is by far the most responsible, and, might I say, respectable, way to establish our personal belief system. Yet somehow this process can make a person wildly unpopular, particularly if they choose to be vocal about their changing perspectives. That is, if a person is one who’ll stand up for their beliefs. I, for instance, changed my religious beliefs when I was in my early 20’s. This action caused me to lose nearly every friend  I had had over the previous 10 years, as well as relationships with my mom, brother and sister.

      A hefty loss for making up my own mind. But, dare I say, a worthwhile one. I lost a friend for once voicing my disapproval of our government’s use of drones that target suspected, but not convicted, or even confirmed, terrorists. People get very upset at other people when they have opposing beliefs, and this makes being open about beliefs very scary. Acceptance is something we humans want and need very badly. As the social creatures that we are, we seek belonging and therefore try hard to avoid being excluded.

      But I’ve learned that for every person who will reject me for believing what I believe, there are 2 other people to that one: the one who doesn’t mind that I have different opinion. And the one who shares my opinion. Among those and the groups they represent, there is a place for me to belong. As a highly sensitive person, I really suffer under attack. I’ve been wounded quite deeply by the rejections I’ve faced on account of my beliefs. But one of the benefits of the experience is that it’s made me very aware of the harm that can be caused by self-righteousness and harsh judgment against a different way of thinking.

      Other benefits of my experience are that I’ve been very close to people who view things quite differently than I do, and I know that they aren’t bad people. While I don’t agree with them, I can understand them. Also, it’s reinforced for me the importance of being willing to go against the grain if that’s where our beliefs lead us. The more of us that learn to keep an open-mind and search for truth rather than reinforcement of our beliefs, the easier we make it for other thinkers to have the courage to do the same.

      And so I leave you with this thought that I came across today on Facebook:

      marianne

      Think more. Do your best. Always be kind.

      Be you and enjoy it.

      Posted in Lifestyle, Non-human Animals, Relationships | 3 Comments | Tagged belief, courage, difficulty, life, love, pain, spirituality, suffering, thinking, truth
    • January 29- Ritual

      Posted at 12:38 am by Dara, on January 30, 2015

      Ritual is necessary for us to know anything. -Ken Kesey

      I like the idea of ritual. When I think of ritual, the first word that pops into my mind is devotion. Rituals are most commonly associated with religious practice and spirituality, and I don’t belong to any sort of organized religious or spiritual group where I’d be invited to participate in religiously based rituals. But I am a person of devotion. And I do want to devote myself more fully to certain things. Things that are meaningful to me, like my friendships, my writing, my body, and of course, my connection to the source of all life.

      Normally when people decide they want to commit themselves to new goals or progress in something, they may establish new routines for themselves, and I really don’t like routine. Naturally, ritual involves routine.  But routine, on its own, is something I really struggle to commit to.  And I think I’ve finally figured out why: A lack of deeper meaning. When I think of routine, I think of the fulfillment of duties we have in life, obligations and necessary activities, like brushing our teeth, for example, going to work, or taking a car in for a routine oil change.

      Having routine, for those of us who can stick to one, provides a sense of security and control. We don’t have to think about what’s next, we just follow the order we’ve established for our routine. It doesn’t require much thought or engagement, just going through the motions. Getting things done. Checking them off the list. It’s a good source of structure in life, if you like or need lots of structure, to have a routine. But overall, with the exception of doing what needs to be done, routine is void of any real meaning.

      Ritual, on the other hand, has less to do with duty and more to do with celebration. It requires active engagement and consciousness. It’s a way to connect. It’s performed not as a task, but as a ceremony in celebration of things that go beyond the daily necessary activities in our lives. It’s more formal and deeply authentic. It portrays honor, intention, & dignity. And since I didn’t have many go-to rituals in my life, I decided I would create some of my own.

       “I do believe that if your culture or tradition doesn’t have the specific ritual you are craving, then you are absolutely permitted to make up a ceremony of your own devising…” – Elizabeth Gilbert

      So I got to thinking, as I was about to exercise, what if I turned my exercise “routine” into a ritual? What would that look like? I took a great deep breath, and wrapped by arms around myself, giving myself a gigantic hug, and I squeezed tightly.  That felt good!  Have you ever hugged yourself? You should totally try it. I moved my hands around my shoulders, neck, and back, squeezing & massaging as I went, and thought about how grateful I am for my body, for my health, for the ability I have to nurture myself this way.

      Next I decided to massage the tops of my thighs and then my lower legs and feet, and I just kept breathing and connecting with myself, full of gratitude for the magnificence and ability of my physical form. From there I went into some very mindful stretching, staying really present with myself the whole time, moving into a gentle yoga routine, followed by some aerobics. To close my workout ritual, I sat in meditation posture, thought of 3 things that I’m grateful my body can do, and then I did a breathing meditation for just a couple of minutes.

      Afterwards, I got myself a glass of water with lemon and sat quietly drinking it, meditatively enjoying each sip and continuing just staying in the present moment. That was the best workout session I had probably ever had! It felt so purposeful and it really brought me into a state of awe of how I can move, and twist, and stretch myself, and how good it feels to be connected to my body.

      While the routine of yoga, followed by some aerobics and weight training is what I normally do, I think the ritual opening and closing activities, combined with the mental focus on connection and gratitude throughout, completely transformed my workout from a must-do activity in order to stay in shape into a celebration of my body, life, and physical, mental and spiritual well-being.

      A shift in purpose was really all it took- to being devoted to myself and my body- and humbly recognizing that without it, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my life the way I do, go out into the world the way I do, and feel as confident and capable as I do. And I don’t plan to stop there! I want to create a ritual for my writing practice (otherwise known as a writual :)) and rituals for spending time in a very devoted and conscious way with some of the people in my life.

      I know couples who have rituals, and they are so beautiful. Families too, that have their self-made traditions that enable them to bond and foster strong, connected relationships with one another. I think it’s so important to celebrate our relationships, and I like the idea of creating rituals that are meant to highlight the importance of the connection and the bond. To become acutely aware of way you value each other, it’s a great idea to spend time together for the very purpose of celebrating that bond and the devotion you each have to the relationship. In order words, to ritualize some of your dates. 🙂

      Finally, I thought about creating a beautiful ritual for a daily mediation practice, but I decided to make meditation a part of all the other rituals that I perform in honor of the things that matter greatly to me. Each activity is certainly one that has spiritual significance, even working out. The recognition that I am a spiritual being who has a physical body and is operating it kept returning to my consciousness throughout the session. And my breathing reminded me that I have the energy of life flowing through me at all times, as we all do, and it’s the essence of the one grand consciousness that we each embody in a unique fashion.

      I’m curious to hear of other people’s rituals. Do you have any? What are the things in your life that you celebrate in ritualistic fashion?

      Be you and enjoy it!

      Posted in Lifestyle, Relationships | 0 Comments | Tagged devotion, honor, life, relationships, ritual, routine, writing, yoga
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