A forgiveness meditation

I forgive myself.

I forgive myself for being unconscious most of my life.
I forgive myself for denying my truth for so long that when I finally acknowledged and trusted it, I hurt someone I truly cared for.
I forgive myself for continuing to wonder how things will turn out.
I forgive myself for the times I don't take better care of myself, or the times I don't say nice things to myself about the shape and feel of my body, or the level of my intelligence, significance, desirableness or intrigue.
I forgive myself for not making more of an effort to stay close to my family.
I forgive myself for the times I could have been a better friend, or more considerate of the feelings of those I care about.
I forgive myself for leaving those I loved deeply, and I forgive myself for still missing them.

I forgive myself for not putting myself first for so many years.
I forgive myself for not being kinder, more compassionate and generous.
I forgive myself for the all times I indulge in negative self-talk, and for when I don't recognize my own beauty.
I forgive myself for not telling the people I love that I love them every day.
I forgive myself for the guilt I feel about not working harder in school.
I forgive myself for making assumptions and not seeing the best in others.
I forgive myself for watching too much Netflix.
I forgive myself for not cleaning my room until I absolutely cannot walk through without tripping over piles of laundry, or whatever other bits of my life that have taken a back seat to the current prime directive.

I forgive myself for holding on to the past, and I forgive myself for having regrets.
I forgive myself for worrying about and--at the same time--idealizing the future.
I forgive myself for deriving self-worth from external validation.
I forgive myself for not knowing to listen to my body when it was crumbling before my eyes.
I forgive myself for not loving myself.
I forgive myself for questioning my own intuition, and I forgive myself for the hurt I've caused in the process of learning to follow my own heart.

I forgive myself.

This is how I know to move forward.
In forgiving there is letting go.
But I know it is not so easy.
So I forgive myself for not being able to let go right away.
Each time I do, I get a little lighter.

I'm forgiven.

25 Days of Gratitude

December is upon us and many are already counting down the days until Christmas. This season is a time of love for me, of warmth, of family (biologic or otherwise), of joy, and of gratitude. It's nice to indulge in the festivities of the season, but something is pulling me in the direction of using this time to establish better habits that will carry me through the holidays and beyond into the next year.

The new moon earlier this week brought up a lot of stuff for me. I have been feeling increasingly out-of-sorts, sideways, cattywampus--as they say--the past few weeks. I suspect this is the result of a constellation of things: stress, inconsistent sleep, less consumption of water, more consumption of sugar, the change to colder weather, less daylight, the impending conclusion of the academic semester, etc. etc. etc. All in all, it's fascinating to me how these things work together to negatively impact my mood and general outlook on myself and my surroundings.

In an effort to find my way back to myself, I've decided to do a few things. First, I am removing added sugar and artificial sweeteners from my diet (a la Whole30) again. I hesitate to say that I am doing an "official" Whole30 during the month of December because that would be rather ambitious. I am not eliminating the possibility, however. To the extent that is within my control, I will be living the Whole30 lifestyle for as much of December as possible. I actually started two days ago (oops!), so technically this is Day 3 and I can already say, the worst of the sugar withdrawal is pretty much over. This is one of the benefits of living a food freedom that is relatively close to the Whole30 to begin with (meaning, I basically eat grain-free, dairy-free, legume-free, and alcohol-free already). My goals for this are to find that sweet spot of feeling good in my own skin, not having an emotional or psychological response to eating (or not eating) certain foods, and to get better sleep. I already have plans in the works on how to deal with the onslaught of holiday indulgences that will inevitably come my way--the main one being that I look forward to offering to do the majority of cooking for my family so that I can control the ingredients that go in and share so many of the delicious, Whole30-approved recipes that I've come to love over the past year and a half. I'll still bake ALL the cookies and pies for them, but I have no qualms about not partaking in them when the time comes.

Secondly, I will be conducting a different kind of elimination diet. Not of food, but of thoughts. My intention is to go the entire month of December without complaining, and instead, finding the positive in the moment. There are so many lovely, pleasant things about the holidays like the lights, and the music and fireplaces, and the movies, and the snow! But there is also travel (and traffic), shopping (and financial insufficiencies), family (and family, if you know what I mean). In addition to all that, there are all the exams I have coming up, the uncertainties about what's next and the pressure to have all of it already planned.

This is going to be a challenge. It already is. Today I noticed myself getting caught up in the negativity that surrounds me so easily. In order to mitigate that, I have to slow down, notice what's going on, and make a very conscious choice about what I want to contribute to the conversation. I'm predicting that the old adage "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" is going to be incredibly applicable this month. Eventually I hope to be able to progress from simply NOT saying something negative to actually making the effort to find something positive.

This all goes along with the gratitude practice I've been cultivating the last couple months. I have made a concerted effort to keep a gratitude journal and write down one thing at the end of each day that I am grateful for. I find this practice to be the most helpful on the particularly difficult days. On the good days, it can be hard to choose just one thing to write down. But on the days that--let's face it--pretty much sucked, it forces me to go back, think through everything I did that day and find something good. Anything good. The littlest thing. Something about that time of reflection, even if the struggle to find something positive carried its own discouragement, made it easier the next time. I've started to move toward forgetting to write in my gratitude journal at night because I'm living more grateful in the moment. Noticing things as they happen and appreciating them, letting them go, and moving forward. This has always been the goal and I think that making a conscious intention to refrain from complaining will aid in my pursuit of a gratitude-filled life.

I'm saying all this because I want my thoughts, intentions and goals to be out there--outside of me--in the universe. Not just bouncing around in my head. They appear more real that way. There are reminders that can help me. There are people that can hold me accountable.

This holiday seasons feels new and different to me because of the many changes I have made in my personal life over the past seven months, and these small lifestyle changes I'm making now--these new habits I'm establishing--are really going to enrich that experience. I hope the holidays find you warm, cozy, surrounded by those you love, with gratitude in your heart. Every day.

Breaking Up With "Should"

This post was originally shared on the Cornell Vet Wellness blog, Staying Positive.

The longest, most committed relationship I’ve ever been in was my co-dependency with the word “should”. “Should” and I used to do everything together. She was always on my mind, helping me with every little decision I made throughout the day–from what I wore to what I ate, whether or not I should smile or say hello to the people I saw, whether I should study or watch Netflix, what time I should go to bed…

Or rather, she would “help” me.

It took me 27 years to realize that “Should” was really just Anxiety masquerading as my friend.

There’s a “Should” out there for everyone, although some of them are better than others. There are the “Shoulds” that keep people from exposing themselves in public, harming others, or letting selfishness and greed get the best of them. Those are usually necessary–they help enhance our lives and the lives of those around us. Those “Shoulds” are keepers. I’m not talking about those “Shoulds”.

My “Should” and I had a different kind of relationship. She was there when I woke up. She was there when I went to bed. Sometimes she was even in my dreams, re-hashing every “stupid” thing I’d said or done in the past. She was never NOT there. A day that included doing literally nothing but lounging around all day would be physically and mentally exhausting because she was there to play devil’s advocate for every thought that popped into my head.

You feel crappy, you should stay in bed.

You shouldn’t stay in bed, that’s lazy and irresponsible! Get your butt up!

You should braid your hair.

You haven’t washed your hair in a week! If you braid your hair again, everyone will think you didn’t shower.

You should have bacon for breakfast.

Bacon again?! Don’t you know that pork is bad for you?

Welcome to the first hour of every day. I’m exhausted just writing that.

But ignorance is bliss, as they say. So until I was aware of what was happening, this was just the way it was, and it didn’t occur to me that my life could be any different–because I didn’t know any different. In hindsight, I can see that it was a toxic relationship. The more influential I allowed “Should” to be in my life–fueling it by giving it my time and energy–the more I unconsciously needed “Should” in my life. If “Should” were to leave me one day, who would tell me what do? How would I know the smartest choice, the best answer, the optimal option? Who would decide who I was supposed to be?

(Watch out–”Should” and “Supposed To” are, like, super close buddies.)

Who would decide, though?

Me.

Actually me. Not Me+Anxiety. Just me. But who am I without “Should”? We had been together for so long, I’d never had the opportunity to find out before. It’s scary not knowing who you are underneath all of that noise of questioning every little thing.

But believe me, YOU are in there somewhere.

That’s the journey I’m on now. Cultivating me. It’s fun to decide for yourself. Terrifying too, but mostly fun. It was extremely difficult to break up with “Should”, and it continues to be difficult. There are still days I find myself missing “Should” and many nights I break down and call “Should”, even though I know differently now.

I’m not here to tell you how to manage your own relationships with the words in your head. You’re all adults. I can only share my own experience. It was important and necessary for me to end the toxic relationship I was in with “Should”. However, it’s also important to highlight that for me, not all the ties have been cut. While I’m no longer co-dependent on “Should”, she is still in my life (even though I’d prefer she wasn’t), and I continue to find ways to deal with that.

The most important difference is now I am aware of her influence and can choose to modulate how much I let her in. This takes work–hard work–but slowly and surely I am realizing I am in control. I control the thoughts that come in and then I let them go. Those thoughts aren’t me and they don’t define me.

If you find yourself consulting “Should” for every little thing throughout the day and night, I invite you to take a step back and assess what you’re really getting out of that relationship. Sometimes it may seem easier to stay in a bad relationship than confront and overcome the fear and work it takes to set out on your own and cultivate who you are. This ease is only short term. Only you can decide what’s best for you. I only hope that it’s YOU deciding, and not You+”Should”.

Mountain Dreaming

Sometimes Time Hop splits my heart wide open. 

I ache for the mountains. 

Always the mountains.

THE INVITATION
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for, and if you
dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love,
for your dreams,
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,
if you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shriveled and closed from fear of future pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain,
mine or your own, 
without moving to hide it,
or fade it,
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy,
mine or your own,
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to be careful,
to be realistic,
to remember
the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself;
if you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul;
if you can be faithless and therefore
trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty,
every day,
and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure,
yours or mine,
and still stand on the
edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon, "yes!"

It doesn't interest me who you know, or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. 
I want to know what sustains you,
from the inside,
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.