A balanced heart

Balance in relationships is ideal. Everybody wants to be in a mature, loving, supportive relationship where both partners benefit equally. The dream goes like this; both people get their needs met, they get unconditional love, boundless support, brunches on Sundays, in-jokes, fond memories, a reliable plus one for obligatory events, someone to do the housework they hate, a cuddle on the couch and a warm body in bed.

Perfect, right? Except…

Except love isn’t ‘unuconditional’ if it is only present when things are balanced. Except boundless support means support in the face of imbalance. Except a couple’s needs aren’t always the same or equal.

What happens to the relationship when one person’s needs are bigger, stronger or more urgent? What happens when one partner cannot be as supportive due to illness, addiction or being in the military? What happens when ailing parents or children throw the axis off?

A mature, loving, supportive relationship means that sacrifices are made, concessions are given & needs are prioritised. No two people (not even twins) grow in perfect synchronicity. So, if both partners are benefiting equally then they are having their wings clipped.

The most loving, relationship affirming thing I have ever done was to put my personal ambitions on the back-burner to dedicate myself to supporting my partner’s goals, loves, dreams and schedule. It is also the most humbling, ego-deflating, trusting, counter-intuitive decisions I have ever made.

Lesson: Love is not tit for tat, clean, orderly or balanced. Learn to find the harmony in the imbalance.

What I learned about myself playing Chess…

1. Safety first. I take risks, but only calculated ones.
2. I am only happy when I can anticipate my opponent.
3. Unless I have a strategy I feel vulnerable (even when my King is safe and sound).
4. Tactics are the natural love child of strategy and methodology.
5. I don’t like to feel controlled.
6. I dislike being reactive.
7. If the ship is sinking I look for ways to jump. If I think it’s a lost cause I wont flog a dead horse.
8. I underestimate myself.
9. I find it easier to see the pros of another and the cons of myself.
10. I don’t have a poker face.
11. I care way too much about pawns (Compassion or stupidity? You tell me.)
12. I’m not comfortable with the ethos the end justifies the means.
13. Once I have a strategy, I am like a dog with a bone.
14. Once a piece has a role it pains me to have it multi-task.
15. I avoid direct competition for a reason (its not good for the soul).
16. I can be spiteful.
17. I strongly dislike not being skillful in an area.
18. I can turn anything into an exercise in self awareness.

What makes you happy?

You may think it’s your job. You may think it’s your family. You may think it’s hanging out with friends. You may think it’s playing sport. You may think it’s creating music. You’re probably wrong.

If you think it is your job that makes you happy, consider the fate of your happiness when you retire, take time off to raise a family or become ill. If you think your family is the sole source of your happiness then what happens when you move interstate, there is a divorce or you become responsible for ailing parents? If you think you are happy because you are sporty and very physical then what happens when you are injured, too busy or on the off-season?

Your happiness is derived from expressing who you are and embodying your values.

Most of us have it backward. We fail to make the important distinction between the task/experience and the meaning we ascribe to it. We believe family makes us happy but really it is the compassion, support, solidarity, love that we experience in familial bonds that make us happy. I have written about this before; we can experience these things with anybody we feel an affinity with, not exclusively our ‘family’.

I am as guilty as anyone in this area. I have, in the not so distant past, proudly worn the label workaholic. (I was never really a workaholic. There is a huge difference between luv luv luving your work and being addicted to working. Holly Hoffman wrote a great post about this recently.) Never the less I was pulling 55-60 hour weeks when I was over 6 months pregnant. I was even consulting on the day my baby was due. I really ‘loved’ my work. So as a new Mum, with no KPIs, to-do lists, praise from superiors and clients I felt totally lost. I was on call 24/7 to the hardest task-master I had ever encountered, but I was still longing for something.

In reality it wasn’t my job that used to make me happy. It was the opportunity to exceed expectations, challenge myself, achieve goals, nurture others & be intellectually stimulated that my job provided that made me happy. Working is not the only way I can fulfill those needs and express those parts of myself. I now achieve them raising my son, volunteering, helping family and friends, reading & blogging.

When we identify specifically what about our family, jobs and hobbies that ‘make us happy’ we wield an amazing power. We can un-tether our happiness from the title on our business card, the state of our family and our social calendars. When we know what really makes us happy the world really becomes our oyster because we can fulfill our values in more ways than we currently imagine. You may be totally fulfilled living on a tropical island teaching the local children english – who knows.

When we understand the mechanics of our happiness we can achieve it in more creative, and often less stressful, ways. For example a young ‘workaholic’ who remains in the office until 8pm because they value contributing, status and achievement could leave the office at 5 and spend the next 3 hours working on a charity close to their heart and be equally as, if not more, fulfilled. A 55 year old man who wants to but refuses to retire for fear of losing his status and losing the stimulation of work could mentor the next generation of workers or volunteer his time.

What I know for sure is that most of us avoid identifying what really makes us happy for one reason: when you identify what makes you happy you also take responsibility for your own happiness. Do you dare know the key to your happiness?

Be careful what you wish for…

…because it just might come true.

“Whatever is the problem with that?” you may ask, wistfully dreaming of sun-baking surrounded by beauties whilst someone else is parking your sports car/arranging your designer shoe collection by colour. Well, nothing in part… except for the secondary consequences you may not have considered.

Allow me to illustrate my point with some personal examples. A few years back I wished for a challenge. I was pining for something new that felt just right. Something challenging and rewarding. I though it might be a new qualification, an extension to my practice or a new therapy. Instead I fell pregnant. Yup. A baby. Granted motherhood is both challenging and rewarding but the secondary consequences included nappy changes, breastfeeding through the night and well a life turned generally upside down.

Another good example is when I was 18-21 all I wished for was some serenity. My life was a huge drama, verging on directly competing with The Bold and the Beautiful. I was either elated, anguished, anxious or irresponsibly cavalier. All I wished for was a way to be calm and grounded. To be one of those people who seemed to take life in their stride, without fuss or resorting to extremes. What I realised, just recently (read last week) was that I had achieved my wish. I realised that I am best described as calm and centered at the exact moment I was lamenting (read whinging) that I had lost my ‘Raaaa’. You know the in-your-face confidence, the arrogance of your limitations, the general boisterous-grab-life-by-the-balls-and-manipulate-and-fight-until-it-looks-like-you-think-it-oughta vibe.

The secondary consequences of my serenity were the loss of my false bravado (Raaaa) to be replaced by a much less flashy quiet confidence, the acceptance of my humanity and the limitations that accompany it & a humility that recognises that I don’t have all the answers.

In short, while you are alive you will always be learning and refining your wishes and wants. Regardless of what you wish for and achieve you will be, at least in part, dissatisfied with the outcome. You will always want something different, something more, something befitting the new you.

Lesson: You always get what you ordered. If you’re whining about the present then you are best served to look at the past and honour just how far you have come. This is what the you of yester-year wished for.

Have you experienced any unexpected consequences of getting what you always wanted?

Inspiration

It eludes us. It strikes. It illuminates us. It flows through us. It leaves us.

Like charisma, inspiration has always seemed to me to have an ‘other-worldly’ air. Inspiration is not arbitrarily bestowed upon individuals by the heavens. Inspiration is an art.

Have you ever noticed that some people seem to be inspired more often than others? Have you ever noticed that those inspired individuals would experience a bout of ‘writers block’ where no inspiration would come? Have you ever noticed the pattern that when someone has lost something they seem to be almost instantly flooded with inspiration?

Inspiration has substance. It requires your attention and it takes up space. If you want inspiration then you need to make room for it. If you want inspiration you need to be prepared to work with it when it comes -  even especially if it doesn’t look like you thought it would. If you want inspiration then you have inadvertently accepted responsibility for making that inspiration manifest in the world.

Sound big and scary? I think the alternative is scarier – an uninspired life.

Solid ground

Getting your footing is a double edged sword. It is a beginning and an end. A life raft & a trap. It is a welcome reprieve from running in shifting sand, the earth crumbling beneath you, keeping you moving constantly searching out something firmer, safer. Ironically, as soon as we feel solid ground beneath our weary feet and calm breathing replaces our panicked panting we begin to move again. Even if we are taking a well trodden path there is no telling when the earth beneath our feet will give way again. Or else we stay here too long, clinging to the relative safety until the wind and weather erodes our rock and the earth shifts beneath us yet again.

For the longest part of my teenage years I never wanted the house in the suburbs, the husband or the kids. The prospect of my life revolving around nappy changes, bills and constant compromising of my wants and needs crushed my burgeoning spirit. Yet here I am. The perfect lesson of ‘you become what you most fear’. But I’m happy none the less. Proof that when you release your judgements you can learn to love anything.

I took a few Big risks around 19-20, they blew a massive hole in my life plan – the solid ground gave way to shifting sand. I found safe ground when the first risk paid off with a solid career in banking. I ran head long into shifting sand when I moved interstate, abandoning my career, to begin life with my boyfriend of 4 months (my second risk). I found solid ground again and really enjoyed our time in self imposed exile together. Since then the earth has fallen away and I have ran to and from solid ground many times.

Something I know for sure is that if you get too comfortable somewhere your rock will turn to sand and force you to move on, to grow.

I feel like I have been on solid ground for a little while now and I am feeling the gentle warning tremors on the earth readying itself to move. In the past I have been the one to run into the next challenge. From the outside looking in I’m told it appears fearless (or stupid). In reality it is a compulsion to grow & develop.

This time I find myself wanting to cling to now; to watch my son at this beautiful age forever, to live by the beach, to continue to have family as our focus as we quietly build the foundations of our lives. But alas, the winds of change are rustling in the leaves. I don’t know what they will bring.

Flexibility

Flexibility is dependent on trust. The most flexible people I know are also the most grounded & self assured people I know. That is no coincidence.

When are you most flexible? I am most flexible with the people I trust the most and in places where I feel most at home. I am flexible when I don’t have an agenda to push or outcomes to achieve. I am flexible when I am in my element and know the lay of the land. And, no, my flexibility has nothing to to do with being engaged to a Yoga Instructor.

I am least flexible when there are unknown elements at play, when I am inexperienced or uncertain. I am inflexible when I am preoccupied with an aganda or afraid of being judged. I am uncompromising when I don’t trust myself.

The secret of flexible people is that they know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that come what may they can handle it. They trust themselves to withstand the unknown. The secret of flexible people is paradoxical, the secret of flexible people is their (inner) strength.

Small Things

We are taught not to sweat the small stuff; to let go of minor irritations, not to concern ourselves with petty things. While I agree that it isn’t worthwhile panicking that the kitchen isn’t spotless or that some one else is wearing the same outfit as you, I think the small things speak volumes about us.

We come prepared for the big things, both good and bad. We expect elation and anguish. We know roughly how to deal with the big things and if we don’t, we know where to go to for help. It’s ok to talk about the big things; positive or negative they become a badge of honour.

How we deal with the big things says a lot about us. Are you the kind of person why holds their head high in the face of adversity? Do you fold under pressure? Do you bravely face the ups and down of your life or do you search for scapegoats?

But for me we embody our grace, or not, in the small things; how we handle minor irritations, poor service, gossip, rudeness, rain and everyday stresses.

Funk

Meh. Blah. In a lull. Taking a spell. Uninspired. In a trough. In ‘The Dip’. In a funk. Lost your mojo. Lost your groove. Out of the swing of things. In a rutt. Feeling lost. Fizzled out. Unplugged. Disconnected. Drifting aimlessly. Lost your lust for life. Directionless. Stuck. Stagnant. Hit a wall. Feeling average. Underwhelmed. Sluggish.

Call it what you want. It’s uncomfortable. Like punching under water our effort does not yield results. The funk swallows up all your best intentions and renders your ‘Operation: cheer up’ ineffective.

It’s frustrating, unpleasant, depressing, confusing, draining and necessary. Yes, that’s right; necessary. I have spoken about cycles before, and this is a natural part of the cycle.

When you are in a funk stop fighting it! It’s like quicksand and the tighter you cling to denial the deeper you will get. Instead honour this place you are in, focus on how you are feeling and actively search out the doubts and unanswered questions that are flirting with you from the darkest corners of your psyche. The more of these loose ends you have been brushing aside, with good reason, in order to pursue your latest project be that a job, relationship, building a house, focusing on a child the longer the funk will take to work through.

The faster you invite these questions into the light and the more thoroughly you investigate and integrate them the quicker you can leave the funk behind. Try these techniques next time your feeling ‘stuck’:

1.      Meditation: If you are a seasoned meditator then focusing on your practice in a funk will often hasten the clarity you are seeking. But you don’t need any previous experience in meditation to utilise it as a technique. You can simply clear you mind and ask your mind what area of life or loose end to focus on and allow an answer to arise (see here for instructions) or you can utilize a lead visualization to help you uncover your doubts.

2.      Solitude: Spend time alone. You would be surprised how much easier it is to hear your thoughts when you are alone. Alone is hard to achieve these days we are often connected to others via our treasured communication devices. You want to take the home phone off the hook (if you have one), turn off the computer, turn the mobile, iphone or blackberry to silent and go where you wont be disturbed. Hint: your living room or bedroom are usually not great options. Go for a walk. Go to a market or a park alone. Take a journal or a notepad and a pen.

3.      Writing: Journal. Journal a lot. Use a pen and paper. Yes old school is best, for a few reasons. First, you can’t search the web or get email in a journal. Secondly, its too easy to delete words or whole pages that make you uncomfortable on a computer. Lastly, the most valuable thoughts are the ones that come when you have been writing about benign things for a few pages and out onto the page pops a thought that makes you double take. This is best done alone where no one will read your thought or interrupt you. You could do this every day or once a week – whichever suits you.

4.      Quiet places: Go to the library, the art gallery, a church, a temple, for a walk in nature. These are places we don’t go often, they get us thinking about things other than the usual work – friends – family  – food – money – and begin us thinking about the abstract, our place in things and what we want.

5.      Go away: Take a weekend off and go somewhere. Low key is a good option. Like a few nights in a little getaway just a few hours from home.

Mother crafting

Motherhood is an interesting word for an indescribable experience. I prefer the term mother crafting for its accuracy. Mother crafting suggests that it is a skill to be developed and not simply a gift bestowed when a child is born. Mother crafting suggests a uniqueness; that each relationship is one off and hand made with love. Mother crafting suggests a beauty in the imperfection.

Mother crafting to me is about a swelling of the heart, the heart opens and swells and encompasses so much more. The pain and tears of your child become excruciating, to witness their smile becomes euphoric, to watch them contentedly sleeping or reaching for rattles becomes a deep meditation. The emotions are so strong that they bring with them tears; tears of joy, sorrow, pain, helplessness, bliss, love, laughter.

Mother crafting is not a skill belonging only to a child’s birth mother. I have known adopted mothers and childless women perfect this skill so beautifully that they elevate it to the level of art. I know young women who have birthed their lives and tended to their dreams the same way I tend to my son. This perhaps is a no less beautiful but more difficult calling, because realised dreams can’t say ‘Thanks mum I love you’.

Letting Go

I have spent the past week with my family, and it has got me thinking about letting go. Letting go can be hard. Letting go can be easy. Letting go can become a habit – if you’re game. If you’re not, letting go can be utterly terrifying.

My grandmother is getting older; in fact she just celebrated her 86^th birthday. I baked, of course. She is fast approaching, or recently passed, (depending on who you speak to) the point of safely living alone at home. On some level I think she knows it. She is afraid of losing her independence and what that might mean. Her fear comes across as nastiness.

I can understand her fear and her denial. What becomes of us when we cease to be what we value? What are we when our intelligence is failing and outdated; our peers deceased; our looks long faded; our family self sufficient and our contribution to the world are knitted blankets donated to charity?

How do we come to terms with letting go of our prime, our status, our jobs, our friends and our independence? What can stand the test of time and remain ours regardless of our phase in life? The only thing that I come up with is love.

Love. Love of ourselves. Love for those around us. Love for something greater perhaps. Love of the taste of a sweet strawberry. Love of the feeling of the sun on our skin. Love of the sight of a rose in full bloom. Love of the smell of fresh bread baking.

I see too much of my grandmother in me. I don’t want to have to fight so hard. To cling so tightly to my independence. To fear what it means to lose it. The alternative, for what I can see, is to focus on love and to let go of other temporary titles. I wonder what will be my final hurdle? What will I perhaps be clinging to in my old age? Will it be my partner, work, my children, responsibility, intelligence or independence? If I am lucky perhaps I will enjoy the simple pleasures of my twilight years instead of mourning the loss of my former glories. IF along the way I develop a saintly disposition and grace.

What will you be clinging to in 60 years?

Cast your net wide

Watching a slideshow of Afghanistan explained by a soldier just returned from active duty puts my personal issues in perspective. So did having a hot chocolate at the Sheraton on the Park (with the Connect2Mums crew).

We all have issues. If you breathe and you live, you are bound to have issues. Even his Holiness the Dali Lama has drama to contend with. How we experience drama is subjective.

I am not saying that your issues are insignificant because ‘there is always somebody out there worse off than you’. What I am saying is that the narrower your focus the larger problems will appear.

High school is a great example of this. Our years at high school are characterised by us continually making mountains out of mole hills. A single off-hand comment could quickly turn into friendship groups divided and months of arguments and drama. Our immaturity was partially responsible but so was that fact that the school yard, and its occupants, were our whole world.

A work-a-holic will always experience work related dramas as devastating and dramatic because work swallows most of their attention and focus. A new mother’s day hangs entirely on whether her baby sleeps and eats well. She knows that the world is at war and people are dying of poverty and disease, but the tiny bundle in her arms is her whole world. New lovers can be happy together even if their lives are crumbling around them because the relationship alone is their focus; but when the relationship crumbles they are lost.

My awareness was broadened recently when an old friend stayed with us. He took my focus from local to global reminding me of, and personalizing, the war in Afghanistan. Realising that carrying a weapon just to take your morning jog and laying fellow soldiers to rest is a personal reality for a gentle man my son calls ‘Uncle’ reminded me that it is my personal bias that dictates the size of my problems. How easily we become blinkered by the privilege that is inherent our (read my) life.

You don’t need to know a soldier to put your troubles into perspective. All you need to do is to exercise your inherent compassion. How? Connect with other people on a real level. Get to know the difficulties another is facing – not to compare or even to ‘fix’ them but to empathise with them and witness the journey of another. Don’t restrict yourself only to connecting with people whose journey mirrors your own. Connect with older & younger people in your city and across the globe. This is the true value of online communities and how they enhance our lives.

Cast your net wide. Value diversity. Difference is like sunlight that shines on the facets of your life and makes them shine.

* This post first appeared on http://connect2mums.ning.com

Image credit Larryzou@