45. Free.

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I had this whole post planned, a little emo, a lot introspective, and in the end, not really saying what I need it to say.

So today, on the closing of my 45th year, and the commencement of my infinite future, I share this with you:

Capt. Malcolm Reynolds:  …You know what the first rule of flying is? Well, I suppose you do, since you already know what I’m about to say.
River Tam: I do. But I like to hear you say it.
Capt. Malcolm Reynolds: Love. You can learn all the math in the ‘Verse, but you take a boat in the air that you don’t love, she’ll shake you off just as sure as the turning of the worlds. Love keeps her in the air when she oughta fall down, tells you she’s hurtin’ ‘fore she keens. Makes her a home.
River Tam: Storm’s getting worse.
Capt. Malcolm Reynolds: We’ll pass through it soon enough.

Thanks for keeping me flying. ❤

And, in celebration and gratitude, some totally FREE stuff:

 http://jennifer-cooper.healthcoach1.integrativenutrition.com/events/2015/09/45-free-wellness-sessions

with a link to my soon-to-be-opened new website.

Feeling It

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I’m a recovering feeling stuffer. 

It was always safer to hide my truth, stay silent and push through. And that worked to some extent, for a long time. 

Until it didn’t. 

Some of this was for survival. People with depression use this as a coping technique. Numbed pain is far better than acute pain. The problem is, the mind and heart don’t know how to selectively dim emotions, so everything gets dampened.  

Relationships suffer in that kind of silence. Things go unsaid. Wounds fester. There’s a kind of numbness, like all the colors are washed out and gray-cast. 

It wasn’t working. 

(Aside: I’m a big fan of the question “How’s that working for you?”  Because, if it’s not…Well, then. Stop. Right?)

And over the past ten years or so, I’ve discovered that feeling things deeply, that’s my superpower. I am blessed with the ability to empathize. I can connect with most people. It’s Universe-given, and I don’t take credit. It’s my job to tend to it, help it grow. 

It’s a gift, though it’s not always a fun one. Feeling the feelings? Ouch, sometimes. Like, I’d rather peel my skin off, ouch. 

Yet, this ability has given me the opportunity to know, even if just in movements, really know, some Amazing individuals. 

If someone is vulnerable enough to show you their naked soul, you say thank you. You just do. And you respond with respect and reverence. 

a Glimpse

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One left, and twenty were damaged, while I was watching. 

The water system cracked and flooded. 

The wall got moldy. 

Termites behind the wall. 

And behind the other wall. 

And in books. 

And I worry. Too much. All the time. About what I could have done differently and how it’s my fault. If only I’d paid attention. 

And she doesn’t feel well. 

And he might not be safe. 

And now another thing is broken. 

And I worry. Too much. All the time. About what I could have done differently and how it’s my fault. If only I’d paid attention. 

And I forget to breathe.  And feel stupid about that. 

And my list of things grows exponentially.  

And everything spills and falls and shatters. 

And I can’t find the lesson on repeat. 

And I worry. Too much. All the time. About what I could have done differently and how it’s my fault. If only I’d paid attention. 

If only I’d paid attention. 

Sunday Service & Simply Noticing

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I’m tired.  It’s 8:13 PM.

Those two facts are objectively unrelated.  Yet, I can easily put all kinds of judgment on them:

  • What did I actually do today to be tired, so early?
  • What’s wrong with me?
  • I should have more stamina.
  • My son has to be up for hours, so I should be too.
  • These seasonal allergies are affecting my energy.
  • It’s post new-moon effects.

Aren’t we funny, we humans? How we strive to make sense of EVERYthing.  It’s so Gestalt of us, to fill in all those blanks, looking for meaning and completion.

I’m not sure this works for me.  I can spend SO much energy making up the why’s and what-ifs, and usually to no great accomplishment.  98% of my made up shit doesn’t come into being.  Those are some pretty compelling statistics to STOP MAKING SHIT UP.

It’s a hard habit to break, for sure.  I’m one that needs to replace, and crowd out a negative behaviour, to allow something new to take its place.

So, I’ve been practicing observing and noticing, as a means to replace my fabrications. I try to remain as detached as possible.  It’s like a socio-psychological observational study.  On myself. No judgement, I’m just here to learn.  It feels a little weird and outside of myself.  It’s pretty interesting, though.  I’m seeing things I wouldn’t ordinarily see. In the noticing, I can feel and move through emotions, when in the past I would assess them and linger in them, toward making sense of them.  It was long-suffering and ultimately fruitless.  Sometimes we just feel how we feel.

And, we are allowed to feel ANY emotion, without reproach.  One of my pet peeves is when humans try to edit others’ feelings. Even if it exists in language, versus intent, it can be a very limiting expression.  It can make someone feel small, for the comfort of another.

I think maybe the noticing and allowing it difficult for most of us, who are so used to valuing doing, over being.  Perhaps we’ve some to associate active intervention with helping.  I suggest: support can be quiet, still, being, and oh-so-powerful.

I’ll continue this experiment, of detached observation, to see what newness it allows. So far, it feels like acceptance, and being, learning and a bigger way to love.

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Only Love,

J