~ Mark Nepo

For years I attended a church that offered an annual end of year ritual, a burning bowl ceremony. The event invited participants to release anything that felt important to let go of – unhealthy thought patterns, limiting beliefs, ego stories of limitation and lack – from the previous year. Each of us would release our stories by writing them out onto small pieces of paper and one by one we would give them over to a flame that would burn away our individual, perceived limitations as part of a collective experience. As we left the burning bowl, while witnessing the flame and smoke carry our words toward the heavens, we were handed new words… an affirmation for the new year. It was astonishing how appropriate, personal and powerful those seemingly random words could be. The ceremony always left me with a feeling of lightness and hopefulness for a fresh start.

With all that we’ve all been through this particular year, and as 2020 comes to an end, I invite you, dear reader, to engage in your own burning bowl ceremony (safely, of course).

And I’d like to suggest including an additional step to the letting go process I described above. Before writing anything down, take some time in private to sit quietly and center yourself. Become present and open, and cultivate a spirit of kind heartedness and compassion for yourself as you begin to reflect on the last twelve months. What was your unique journey over the course of 2020 like for you? What did you lose, what did you gain, what did you learn, what surprised you, what challenged you, what felt easy and okay, what felt impossible, what made you laugh and what made you cry? Allow yourself to grieve the disappointments, frustrations, uncertainties and sadness that you might be carrying as a part of the unprecedented events of the last year.

Grieving is a process and grief rituals have been relied on throughout human history to help us manage and navigate the weight of loss in our lives. Author David Richo, in his book How to Be an Adult in Relationships, recommends these four steps as part of creating a grief ritual; acknowledging, abolishing, renewing and giving back. We might incorporate these steps in our end of year mindful grieving ritual like this:

1. Acknowledge what happened this past year, pandemic and all, and allow yourself, with the same kindness and compassion you would offer a friend in pain, the opportunity to write about your experience and how you were impacted by the past year. Without judgment, use your own words to describe what the year was like for you.

2. When you’re ready and feel complete, abolish your words by burning the pages that you’ve written, perhaps even gathering the ashes and sprinkling them into the wind or onto your garden. Do this mindfully, by being fully present to what you are letting go of and why and how it no longer serves you. 

3. Renew your commitment to the now by being present to any expanding awareness or healing release you notice in this process. Notice anything positive that emerges too. Is there something you learned or a strength that surfaced that you want to carry forward with you into the new year? If so, have an intention to tend to it and build on it. 

4. Look ahead and decide how you want to give back and make your own healing a part of our collective healing. For me, the energy of a new year feels like a blank canvas or a box of brand-new crayons or even a tiny seed… all filled with potential and creative possibilities. What seeds will you plant in this newly tilled garden? What do you want to grow and expand in you? What do you want to come alive in your life? What will you choose for yourself and offer with love to the world?

Words have power… Don Miguel Ruiz, author of The Four Agreements teaches us that “the word is a force, it is the power you have to communicate, to think, and thereby to create the events in your life”.  Working with your words, with the stories that you tell yourself about the things that have happened to you actually gives your brain and body instructions on how to operate physiologically. Current research in the field of self-compassion shows us that the brain does not know the difference between our negative internal dialogue and a triggering conversation with another person. BOTH elicit our threat response and release stress hormones. Letting go of words that limit and embracing words that empower and inspire is part of the science AND magic of the grieving process and the burning bowl ceremony. These practices offer us the chance to choose how we want to move forward into a new year… what we can release and let go of and what we want to carry with us. 

Resources:

Nepo, M. (2000). The Book of Awakening: Having the Life You Want by Being Present to the Life You Have. San Francisco: Conari Press. 

Richo, D. (2002). How to Be an Adult in Relationships: The Five Keys to Mindful Loving (1st ed.). Shambhala.

Ruiz, D. M. (2018). The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom (A Toltec Wisdom Book). Amber-Allen Publishing, Incorporated.

Michelle is a mother, a partner, a friend, a spiritual seeker, a psychotherapist and someone who enjoys connecting with herself within a mindfulness meditation practice. She has a BA in Communications and Humanities from the University of Colorado and an MA in Clinical Mental Health Counseling with a concentration in Mindfulness-based Transpersonal Psychology from Naropa University. Michelle’s practice, Soul Care Counseling, offers mindfulness-based practices that support clients seeking to become less anxious, less stressed, less reactive and more grounded, present and connected with their own inner ally. As a result of their work together, clients are able to communicate with themselves and others with greater clarity, care and compassion.  https://soulcaredenver.com/

I don’t remember growing up with any specific Christmas customs. There was the year dad drove mom and the three of us kids, all under the age of 9, from the farm to an AA Christmas party in town. This was long before car seats and seat belts. Mom held the cake on the floor between her feet and my toddler brother on her lap. After dad was ticketed for drunk driving when he rammed into the stopped car in front of us, flinging my older sister and me into the back of the front seat, mom wasn’t up for partying. Dad turned around and drove home. He died the next year in a farming accident, and traditions went south after that, with mom stopping after work at our small town’s only drug store on Christmas Eve to pick through what no one else wanted. One year it was a manicure kit. The next day, when friends asked that dreaded question, “What did you get for Christmas?” I listed its contents individually, beginning with: “Three bottles of nail polish…” and quickly redirected the conversation to, “And what did you get?”

I wanted to do better for my own children—true, the bar was pretty low.

My parenting books said family customs were important. I bought a book on traditions and sought easy Christmas ones, other than the tree. The authors suggested Lighting Advent candles. As a family we were living in Peshawar, Pakistan, working with Afghan refugee repatriation the first year I did the Advent candles and before Internet existed. My book pictured a DIY Advent wreath shaped out of wire, encircling four apples with four candles. The instructions said to partially core the apples to hold the candles. Wire, apples, and candles were easily obtained in Peshawar. I can do this. 

Two days into the first week and the apples began rotting, each candle following its own tilt trajectory, candle number one now a looming fire hazard and dripping wax. Not to be beaten by rotting apples, I melted wax into each hollowed apple to hold the candle. The rot only grew in size, with greater slopes. I poured in more wax. Yes, I could have replaced the apples, but we’re talking moral philosophy here: I’m rotting apples to share the Christ story with my sons while refugees beg for food on the streets.

And I always struggled with the whole Santa/Jesus thing. We lie about Santa, but yet let’s sing about God’s birthday and celebrate that because that is real. And I discovered years later that the latter also is an untruth. Theologians agree that no one knows what year or date Jesus was actually born. Pope Julius 1 in the 4^th Century officially designated December 25 as Jesus’ birthday in order to Christianize the Pagan festivities already occurring around the Winter Solstice, OR the god Saturnalia, OR Mithra’s birthday the Iranian god of Light, OR the unconquered sun god of the Romans Sol Invictus, OR Egypt’s god Ra—take your pick. Because of these roots in paganism, the Puritans outlawed all things Christmas in Boston in 1659. 

Ignoring Julius’ papal injunction, today’s conservative Christians claim the season as their own. Steeped in conspicuous consumption, they angrily protest against a supposed war on Christmas because Starbucks changed its holiday cups to solid red. They’d do better to celebrate the Christ as a symbol of light.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don’t go back to sleep. Persian poet Rumi

Over the years I’ve kept my “Bah! Humbug!” message mostly to myself. After all, I reasoned, many people find so much joy in this season (and many do not)—there must be something to it. My two adult sons and their families have great fun with all of it—the food, the ugly sweaters, the decorations. My father-in-law grew up with the extreme deprivations of the Great Depression of the 1930s, so my husband wasn’t too much help in the tradition department, but he now creates his own magic for the family with paper airplane throwing contests and races with windup toy cars, wearing funky holiday clothes. And I do sit mesmerized by Christmas tree lights on a darkened evening—as long as they aren’t musical nor manically blinking. 

A couple of months ago a Christmas mug at a thrift shop caught my eye. It’s the ubiquitous red, but the handle is an elf dressed in green, peering over the edge into the inside of the cup. I carry the Irish gene for pointy ears, so I’m partial to elfishness. This gene supposedly skips a generation, and my granddaughter shares this family trait.  

Spotting that mug, I felt the joy that propelled Carol Kane’s character as the Ghost of Christmas Present in Bill Murray’s “Scrooged.” She flits around—“A Christmas party! I’m so glad I wore my pretty dress!”—her fairy wings smacking Murray, who plays the part of a contemporary Scrooge. Deciding not to overthink my intuitive reaction to this mug and being mindful of my body’s energetic response, I bought it. 

This year I determined to put to rest my conflicted Christmas judgements. I wanted to look at those, to see if I could find a way through them and a way forward that would bring a measure of peace. I sat mindfully in my darkened office one early morning during sunrise, another liminal space, the wood stove warming the room. I sat contemplatively with those symbols that evoked something within me, that stirred an energetic/emotional response. Kermit’s magic. Carol Kane’s effervescence. My elf mug holding my morning coffee. I thought about the significance that this time of year holds for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere as evidenced through our holidays: Hanukah, with its eight candles; Kwanzaa with its seven principles, Christmas, Zoroastrianism, the New Year. Long before the birth of Christ, our northern ancestors brought evergreen branches into their homes for spiritual protection. 

And I thought about the winter solstice, with its shortest day and longest night and the promise of the light to return.  And back to liminality: that space between dark and night, the threshold between one cycle of time and another, one year and another. Maybe a wormhole does exist there, maybe there is a thin space there, a portal between universes, a crack, between the spiritual and physical worlds at this longest night and shortest day. I felt myself drawn to that fissure.

Maybe there is a crackling and sparkly energy in that liminal space, that crack in the world.

All through our history, humanity has evoked magic to explain the unexplainable. As science has revealed more and more of our natural world to us, magic no longer explains an eclipse of the sun or moon, or a comet streaking across the sky, or two planets coming close to each other looking like a bright star. 

Maybe there is a crackling and sparkly energy in that liminal space, that crack in the world. Maybe that’s what Kermit felt. Maybe magic is still the best word to describe that fissure, that convergence of light and dark, until humanity evolves enough to experience that energy. Maybe we do feel it but reject anything that doesn’t resonate with our physical senses. We respond to it in the only way we can: by physicality. We shape traditions and belief systems to capture this energy. We feel the need to go inward, to hibernate, to cook thick soups served with warm, crusty bread; of hot apple cider steeped with cinnamon, cloves, and anise; of hot chocolate with whipped cream sprinkled with peppermint flakes—or whatever food brings with it that sense of comfort.

We also simultaneously move outward, to create moments of love and caring, not only for family and friends but also for strangers, and thus we move into the light. 

Belief partners with science and math

Later I watched Netflix’s 2020 holiday movie, “Jingle Jangle: A Christmas Journey.” Its Victorian protagonist, played by Forest Whitaker, along with his daughter and granddaughter are inventors. Mathematics and science equations float across the screen. But the script writer throws in some implications of quantum mechanics: belief partners with those equations—and these inventors create an observer-influenced reality. “The eye sees only what the mind is prepared to comprehend,” wrote Canadian novelist Robertson Davis.  

Summarizing, many holidays coalesce around the Winter Solstice, that time of year marking the pivot point of the longest night and shortest day. Maybe the mystics among the spiritual sensed some crackling in the air; they didn’t have the distractions of us moderns with social media and television before that. We get caught up in the frenzy of the season and our own traditions—religious or otherwise—doing what we believe will create that magic and then are disappointed when it fails. Maybe what we need to do instead, without abandoning our traditions, is to sit mindfully with what already exists around the Winter Solstice, remembering that humanity’s trappings around this fissure are secondary ways to capture this magic. Maybe we don’t need to do much of anything, but stay present to this place of liminality and experience what is already there.

Sometimes grief hits me and I wonder what it would have been like to have had a more “normal” childhood. I felt it watching “Jingle Jangle,” and then a wise woman tells our protagonist: “But the magic isn’t just in what you lost. It’s in what you still have.” 

So true. And I have so much to be grateful for—and that’s where I turn my focus.

About the Author: Rev. Mary Coday Edwards is a Spiritual Growth Facilitator and People House Minister. A life-long student of spirituality, Mary spent almost 20 years living, working, and sojourning abroad in Asia, Southeast Asia, East Africa, and Latin America before finding her spiritual connection at People House and completing its Ministerial Program. Past studies include postgraduate studies from the University of South Africa in Theological Ethics/Ecological Justice, focusing on the spiritual and physical interconnectedness of all things. With her MA in Environmental Studies from Boston University, abroad she worked and wrote on environmental sustainability issues at both global and local levels, in addition to working in refugee repatriation.

Of not knowing what to do. Our society avoids the bad feelings, and in turn we spend a whole lot of time and energy trying to escape what it is to be human.

I am so tired of seeing directives wherever I go. “Be kind”, “Live, Laugh, Love”, “Seize the day”, “Smile”, “Get lost”.  I am also tired of seeing self help books, self help podcasts, and magazine covers with 10 ways to be happy or lose weight or get active.

Sometimes I just long to see some wall art calligraphy that says “don’t listen to me, just do your thing, you’ll figure it out, I’m just as lost as you”. Because that would be more honest. It would be authentic enough to say, “none of us have got this, I’m just as confused as you”.

We are terrified of feeling bad.

And we are terrified of not knowing what to do. So, when anxiety does arise, we are scared of the anxiety itself. (the same goes for grief, sadness, loneliness, anger, confusion, despair).

I have internalized this societal belief in a particular way. Anxiety is a familiar feeling to me; I’ve inherited it from society and my family.  When I feel my anxiety rising or when I feel uncertain about the future, I have a compulsion to consult my tarot deck. I pull cards and really hope I’m going to get one that tells me I’m moving in the right direction, that it’s going to be great and that I’m not going to starve in a pit of hungry animals. And when I don’t get a reassuring answer, I pull more cards.

This ritual doesn’t actually calm me down at all. It just gives more for my anxious brain to think about. Because anxiety is telling me to find something to give it more energy… to find out what’s wrong and fix it now!

Anxiety is a tornado that scoops up everything in its path to make it stronger. So, seeing all these directives, lists of how-tos and self-help books doesn’t make it better.  They feed the anxiety, they provide the anxiety with fuel to keep going… Anxiety starts screaming at me “Something’s wrong, and you need to figure it out, and this can give you something to work on, it might have the answer, and then do it, if you do it fast enough you’ll have it figured out and maybe you won’t be feeling this feeling anymore.”

Anxiety is like a fire, and all those directives are like pine trees in a drought; they just feed it.

Sometimes I am able to recognize the anxiety for what it is. That it is a fire burning in my belly (or my head) and that I need to give it space, that I need to find a way to put it out. I need to clear the area so that more trees don’t get sucked into it further.

Sometimes I give it water. There are times when I can take a bath, and breathe and say to myself, “I’m feeling anxious and that’s ok, I will just take a bath to give the anxiety a chance to burn down a bit”. Or sometimes I remove all fuel from the vicinity… fuel includes reading the news, tarot cards, self-help books, blogs. Or go for a walk with my dog and say to myself, “nothing needs to be done right now, it’s ok, and I’m going to do my best to not make decisions while I take this walk”.

I know I’m a hypocrite, that this blog post sounds a lot like advice giving… and, yes, it is…. And I am. So here is my soapbox rant in short. I’m suggesting that avoiding what is uncomfortable can make it worse, and we have to sift through a lot of “happy advertising” telling us what to do instead.  I am expressing a plea to free our society from the subtle oppression of self-help and subtle directives in order to give us the freedom to live our own struggles and find peace within ourselves without the constant bombardment of being to told what will make it better. 

Stephanie Boulton, MA LPCC (she/her/hers) is a counselor in private practice and is part of the People House Community. She also volunteers with Out Boulder County, co-facilitating a support group for Friends and Family of Transgender/Gender Non-Conforming People. Stephanie has a background working with a diversity of people in outdoor settings and draws from attachment theory, body-based and experiential therapies, as well as ecological and feminist approaches. Stephanie’s website can be found at www.soulterracounseling.com or you can email her at steph@soulterracounseling.com.

People refuse to wear masks, thus endangering the lives of our more vulnerable from Covid. Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos added $13 billion to his net worth in a single day, while his company paid just a little over 1% in taxes in 2019, despite the United States 21% federal tax rate on corporations (1). An estimated 19 to 23 million individuals are at high risk of being evicted from their homes by the end of September, hitting Black and Latinx rents the hardest (2). We have a corporatized healthcare system unable and ill-equipped to provide basic healthcare and fostering increasing inequities (3). And we have a policing system rife with systemic and structural racism.

In spite of all the anger and yes—hate—we can train in compassion. We train in order to RELEARN to relate to ourselves, others, and the world around us from a place of understanding and compassion rather than from excessive judgment. Full disclosure: I can more easily extend compassion and well-being toward the sheep. It’s the leaders who perpetuate social and ecological injustices for greed, selfishness, and political gain who I have trouble with. 

SEE BEHIND: THE INTENTION TO BE OPEN TO THE FIELD OF LOVE

For this I turn to the teachings of Andrew Dreitcer, Associate Professor of Spirituality, Director of Spiritual Formation, and Co-Director of the Center for Engaged Compassion. I attended his workshop at the 2016 International Symposium for Contemplative Studies, hosted by the Mind & Life Institute (4 and 5). 

Using a thousand-year-old Christian early morning practice, he led us in a process of INTENTION to be open;  i.e., when we are not capable of compassion, but we truly desire to be available to the presence of love, for ourselves and others. 

First centering ourselves, he asked us to seek within us one word that could focus us on the intention to be open. 

That word—our mantra—was then the focus of our meditation for the next 20 minutes, the idea being that throughout the day when anger or fury arose and compassion for our fellow human beings was nowhere to be found, we could return to this word with the intent to extend compassion. 

I find this process very hopeful—and helpful. Instead of throwing myself on the rocks for my lack of compassion, I can at least stay in this space of intent, knowing it is an ancient monastic tradition where it just might lead me into a “connection with an eternal, loving presence,” as Andrew called it.  

SEE BEHIND: COMPASSION VS. EMPATHY

At that same conference, Geshe Thupten JInpa of McGill University spoke on “Understanding the Psychology Behind Compassion Meditation.”

Compassion is a natural sense of concern that arises within us when confronted with another’s suffering and then feel motivated to see that suffering relieved. 

It’s comprised of three parts: first there’s the understanding that someone IS suffering; second, we feel an emotional connection; and third, we are motivated to see the suffering relieved. And this third piece of “doing” includes the prayerful act of practicing lovingkindness toward another, of wishing the other well by connecting spiritually to our common humanity.

A significant difference between empathy and compassion is that third step:  empathy takes us to the place where we enter emotionally into someone else’s suffering; we focus on the problem and the experience of it. If we stay in this emotional swirl, we can easily shift into “empathy burnout”. 

We manifest compassion, however, when motivated to relieve that suffering; it takes on an ethical quality—a way of being. 

A solution to the personal distress of empathy burnout is to shift empathy to compassion. Empathy can take a form of “feeling for” vs. the “feeling with” of compassion.  

SEE BEHIND

On the word lovingkindness, meditation author and teacher Sharon Salzberg says that while the word includes “a deep acknowledgement of connection [with someone], it doesn’t mean you like them or approve of them; it doesn’t demand action; it doesn’t mean being sweet, with only a sugary ‘yes’” to that which contradicts who we are.

“Compassion,” she continued, “rests on the shared understanding that we are all quite vulnerable. In life there is nothing we can hold on to” as permanent, all is always changing. 

Whatever your experience is, sit mindfully with it experience nonjudgmentally, asking your higher self what you can do to mitigate the suffering around us. You may just sit there and breathe, expressing goodwill toward that person. You may find yourself walking away. You may find yourself at a demonstration, facing exposure to teargas. 

I encourage you to see behind: to see behind someone else’s comments and actions—and your own. Train in shifting that energy within you from excessive judgment to compassion and lovingkindness.

Notes & Sources: 

1. https://www.fastcompany.com/90536152/calculate-how-many-seconds-it-takes-jeff-bezos-to-earn-your-annual-salary; https://www.salon.com/2020/07/24/as-laid-off-workers-face-a-financial-cliff-amazons-jeff-bezos-grows-13-billion-richer-in-one-day_partner/
2. https://www.healthaffairs.org/do/10.1377/hblog20200730.190964/full/
3. https://www.who.int/features/factfiles/health_inequities/en/#:~:text=Health%20inequities%20are%20differences%20in,right%20mix%20of%20government%20policies.
4. ISCS “brings together scientists, scholars, artists and contemplatives to explore distinct though overlapping fields of research and scholarship, using a multidisciplinary, integrative approach to advance our understanding of the human mind.” This blog includes thoughts from a previous blog I wrote in 2017.
5. The mission of the Mind & Life Institute is to alleviate suffering and promote flourishing by integrating science with contemplative practice and wisdom traditions. https://www.mindandlife.org/mission 

About the Author: Rev. Mary Coday Edwards is a Spiritual Growth Facilitator and People House Minister. A life-long student of spirituality, Mary spent almost 20 years living, working, and sojourning abroad in Asia, Southeast Asia, East Africa, and Latin America before finding her spiritual connection at People House and completing its Ministerial Program. Past studies include postgraduate studies from the University of South Africa in Theological Ethics/Ecological Justice, focusing on the spiritual and physical interconnectedness of all things. With her MA in Environmental Studies from Boston University, abroad she worked and wrote on environmental sustainability issues at both global and local levels, in addition to working in refugee repatriation.

On March 26^th Coloradans were ordered to stay home to prevent the spread of the highly contagious and deadly COVID-19 virus. Today, two months later, as the orders are being lifted, slowly, and in stages, we find ourselves emerging into a new reality where the danger is still real. As Father Richard Rohr writes on his blog, “There’s no doubt that this period will be referred to for the rest of our lifetimes.

We have a chance to go deep, and to go broad.

Globally, we’re in this together. Depth is being forced on us by great suffering, which as I like to say, always leads to great love.” He describes a polarity that I have experienced myself during this time… feelings of concern, confusion, doubt, anxiety and real fear while at the same time peace, quiet, closeness, connection, simple pleasures and love. Buddhist wisdom describes this paradox as co-emergence… where two competing and even opposite truths can be present and alive in any moment or experience at the same time. I find this teaching helpful as I reflect on my COVID-19 experience and what, if any of how I felt and what I learned, I’d like to carry with me as we all carefully move back into the world again. Yes, there has been, is and will continue to be great suffering for the foreseeable future and yet how can we “go deep” and harness the good from this moment?

Curious about what we might carry forward with us from this experience, I conducted a highly informal, quite limited survey of friends and colleagues, asking them to share an aspect of their lockdown experience that was actually positive and deepening.

I wanted to know too what practices they intend to continue moving forward in order to hold on to what was good in the suffering.

Their answers were highly aligned with Father Rohr’s “great love”, ranging from daily walks with beloved partners, quiet time with themselves, more frequent calls with family and friends and delicious spaciousness that allowed room for reading, cooking, gardening and simply being. Here’s what they said:

What we enjoyed doing the most and what gives me pleasure every day is the yard work we did. There is nothing like gorgeous flowering pots and plantings to make you feel alive and happy. In the mornings we both get a cup of coffee and walk around the yard to see how much things have blossomed or grown since the day before. You would think one day isn’t enough time to see change but you might be surprised. I know I was. – KM in Denver

I think the most profound positive that has come out of lockdown for us is a greater sense of self-reliance. During lockdown we learned—really relearned in most cases—how to do all this ourselves. YouTube was very helpful for everything from home repair to how to cut my hair myself. I already knew how to cut my husband’s hair which I used to do all the time 20 years ago, but hadn’t in a long time. It came right back to me and I gave him a great haircut! The sense of self-empowerment and self-reliance is something neither of us want to give up. – EW in Bremerton, WA

I can think of countless times I’d say to myself, “I wish life would slow down! I’m moving too fast and never have time to… fill in the blank!” This experience, after I had time to grieve, allowed me to make meaning out of this situation and I noticed that when life slowed down, so did the noise in my head. – LM in Los Angeles

I’ve actually been quite surprised by my response to the virus, stay-at-home orders, social distancing, etc. Forced to stay at home, I relaxed and found I was enjoying being home … I was not going stir crazy.  In some ways, I am living just the way I want to be living.  I’ve been making cards, relaxing on the deck with a book, enjoying “adventure” walks with the dog instead of just checking it off my to-do list, etc.  I am an introvert and that side of me is thriving. – LB in Highlands Ranch

Not being able to distract myself with my regular habits, those of making future plans – travel, or otherwise, rushing out to run “needed” errands, working, visiting museums or parks, filling time with family and friends, I have been working on the practice of relaxing into the “isness” of the time, trying to focus on the immediate and what is present, trying not to grasp constantly, solve constantly, or wish for something different.  When I am able to do this, I find more peace and certainty. Even at some future point when there are more available activities and ways to stay busy, I want to remember this feeling, and hold this practice. – TS in Denver

Although my workload has stayed relatively consistent and with more stress than usual, having slow mornings and the freedom to break off when I need to during the day has allowed me to manage my stress much more effectively than feeling like I am expected in the office. Moving forward I would like to continue morning walks, spending time working on the house, more game nights and catching up with friends at home or in the outdoors, and more delicious banana bread baking! I would also like to hold a stronger boundary on listening to my needs and not coming into the office when I don’t need or want to. – LQ in Denver

Taking morning walks with my wife and dog before we eat breakfast. The light exercise at the very beginning of the day is calming for all the uncertainty during the pandemic. Sometimes they are long walks and sometimes they are not depending on how we are feeling and that’s been great. We start off the day connecting, talking, and accomplishing something together.  – DP in Denver

What I know from my own experience, is that the slower pace of being forced to stay home helped my nervous system calm and I discovered a new baseline for what my body and brain FEEL like when I’m at ease.

Those stress feelings were easier to notice and to soothe with greater quiet in my life.

As I re-emerge, I intend to continue nurturing my new baseline with intentional schedule management and continued regular mindfulness and meditation practices. What about you? What will you carry forward with you? 

Michelle is a mother, a partner, a friend, a spiritual seeker, a psychotherapist and someone who strives to cultivate the nine attitudes in her own life every day. She has a BA in Communications and Humanities from the University of Colorado and an MA in Clinical Mental Health Counseling with a concentration in Mindfulness-based Transpersonal Psychology from Naropa University and she completed her internship at People House. Michelle’s practice, Soul Care Counseling, offers mindfulness-based practices that support clients seeking to become less anxious, less stressed, less reactive and more grounded, present and connected with their own inner ally. As a result of their work together, clients are able to communicate with themselves and others with greater clarity, care and compassion.  https://soulcaredenver.com/

After posting that blog, I reflected on the pain and difficult emotions that can arise when we find ourselves outside of our comfort zone. Sometimes we push ourselves into a place of the uncomfortable and, other times, we find ourselves there following or in the midst of a situation or event that is undesired and perhaps out of our control. This could be learning of an affair, a divorce, a trauma, a health crisis, loss of a job or a loved one, etc. And for the current situation living through a global pandemic. Whatever it is—and we’ve all experienced at least one event or situation in our lives that created significant discomfort—the emotions that arise when we feel stressed or scared are worth exploring. Emotions can serve as important messengers, if we pay attention to them. It’s hard to slow down in this world—especially so when we feel like we’re in the throes of crisis or dealing with the aftermath of a fire—but by taking a mindful moment to reflect on our emotions and explore what our emotions are trying to tell us, what can be an otherwise uncomfortable experience becomes an opportunity for discoveries, personal growth and even significant transformation. We can’t tell in the beginning what the transformation will be as it is a lived through experience. It is in looking back we can see the path of transformation.

Discovering The Beauty Beneath the Fire

A few weekends ago, my partner and I were up in Pike National Forest near Woodland Park in the Hayman Fire area in Colorado. The Hayman Fire of 2002 burned for more than 30 days and scorched to the ground 138,000 acres, causing $42 million losses in housing costs alone. This is a place that we’ve visited often, both pre and post fire, and as we cruised around on our ATVs I was struck by the devastation as well as the resilient rebounding of nature. The loss of mature old growth trees revealed the unique beauty of the landscape of the forest that had been unexposed before the fire. I was able to witness what I fondly call ‘The Baby Forest’ returning to life with a thriving diversity of plants, flowers, shrubs and trees that could not fully develop when the old forest overshadowed the floor before the Hayman Fire. I could see rocks, cliffs and other amazing features in the overall landscape, which are usually hidden. You can notice them in the photos I took of the area. Also notice the ‘Baby Forest’ filling in the scorched land. When life is going along in an automatic routine in usual fashion, we generally do not notice the underlying features of who we are as unique individuals with a unique history. Sometimes it takes a fire of some sort to bring both new things and the long overshadowed to the surface.

All this got me thinking about how we all experience fires in our lives—whether we started them ourselves or they were lit up by another. When dealing with a forest fire in our own lives, it can be hard to see the forest through the trees or see the fire as an opportunity to experience or grow something different. But, there can be beauty and eventual growth in the wake of any destruction. And, when we feel into our emotions, seeking messages and learning from a painful experience, what we rebuild is oftentimes more fulfilling than what was there before. One thing is for sure, however. When a forest fire sweeps across the landscape of your life causing devastation, something new will happen. Today we are trying to put the forest fire out across the globe. We are and will create something new.

On this note, I asked a forest ranger we met on our ride about the fire and what has occurred in the ecosystem and environment since Hayman Fire. The ranger said that, in a way, the fire was actually good for the area. A balance of flora and fauna was restored. Plants once overshadowed by the looming trees now had a chance to thrive, which was improving the vitality of wildlife, particularly the deer, in the area. We saw an abundance of wildlife on our excursions through the burn area. While initially scary and even devastating, there can be beauty, growth and opportunity to be found beneath or in the wake of any fire—mental, emotional or physical. It can be challenging, but it boils down to a matter of taking the time, however long or short, to sit with the pain compassionately and then seek the wisdom that resides within the experience. Letting yourself recover with a sense of curiosity and knowing a new ‘Baby Forest’ will spring forth within you that holds lessons valuable to your life.

The Beauty of Change 

I invite you to think back on one of the forest fires of your life. You’re in the midst of one now, think back to a previous one—we all usually have a few. Remember, it may have been that you felt you wanted to quit when the pain felt too heavy and hard to bear. And, like many humans before and among you, you may have fought the pain, not realizing that fighting pain just increases the intensity of it. What we resist persists, and that is certainly true of pain. Allow yourself room to experience the present with whatever might show up be it fear, anxiety, anger and even numbness. Today it feels surreal to me. I am curious and impatient like a teenager. 

However, when we recognize that everything is impermanent—the fire you were thinking about eventually went out, right?—including your pain, it becomes more endurable. And, there is strength and security of self to be discovered when we’re in the throes of a fire. Think about where you are today versus where you were when a particularly devastating fire ignited in your life. Do you feel stronger knowing that you got through it? Did you develop increased trust in your ability to navigate a challenging situation, walk through the fire and come out the other side?

The secret to happiness isn’t the absence of pain or thinking you’re skilled in the art of avoiding it. Rather, it’s learning to embrace change and to lean into and accept pain and other emotions as part of your life experience. It’s also about seeing in hindsight that you have proved yourself capable, even if you fell apart some (we all do and that’s totally okay). But, you got where you are today through these experiences and tomorrow you will probably learn something new about yourself and the world. And, by accepting that what you know and experience today will change and then change again tomorrow, you’re able to embark on a path to greater fulfillment—even if it sometimes includes the pain that comes with stepping (or being pushed) out of what you think you know…today.

Embrace Change and Create Something New

It’s human nature to resist change, although it’s the only thing in this world that we can 100 percent count on. What would you like to let go of and change today? How has something devastating, like a forest fire, ended up becoming a gift in your life? How can you tap into the beauty of change and nurture something new? And, if you need a little more inspiration, check out 21 Insightful Quotes On Embracing Change from success.com, with quotes from people like Henry Ford, JFK, Bill Clinton and Lao Tzu.

About the Author: Brenda Bomgardner is in her encore career. One of her greatest joys is seeing people move beyond life’s roadblocks toward a fulfilling and meaningful life. She believes each person has a purpose in life waiting to be realized that evolves over a lifetime. And the path to reaching life’s purpose is as unique as each individual. We all have dreams. Step by step she will walk with you on uncovering how to bring your dreams to fruition.  Brenda is a counselor, coach and clinical supervisor specializing in practicing Acceptance and Commitment Therapy/Training (ACT) which is a cutting edge evidenced-based processes. This means there is scientific research proven to show ACT works. Before becoming a therapist, she completed a successful 17-year career in Human Resources at a Fortune 500 company. On a personal note she loves the great outdoors, ATV riding, adventure travel and family. To learn more about Brenda visit her About Me page.