My relationship with boundaries is defined by ebb and flow, yes and no, rise and fall.
You and me make we. Yet we are not me. And our collective trauma in the relational biosphere prompts climate change. The good news of global warming is we are melting the frozen energy of trauma stuck in our cells. We learn resilience by expressing an unguarded heart and offering unconditional love in our boundaries with others.
What becomes available to us when we relinquish a winner take all mentality?
Surrender to win?
A perforated armor lets the lungs expand. A pock-marked shield opens the guarded heart. An aerated dead-pan patch of soil allows nutrients to deepen and sustenance to grow. An open gate edified with structural supports builds shelter. An empty field sprinkled with stalwart sentinels creates shade from an unrelenting sunshine. A vast salty ocean peppered with islands of aloha provide ground.
My hurts | Our hurts.
Seamlessly the scars beautifully trace the border between you and me. And we nourish each other in the deeper knowing that this border has no border–it is fluid. This river of unconsciousness between us mingles with collaborative memories and individual sorrows–universal dreams and desires and the illusion of independent suffering. This river, complete with banks of order and chaos, rigidity and creativity–this is where we swim–we float–ideally face up–in sweet surrender to the flow.
Our haunts | My haunts.
The flow between yes and no, swell and slack, the king and neap tides of connection and intimacy. Dropping the armor of a protected heart brings true freedom from want and Presence. Our True Nature. Feel the aching haunt and squishy mystery. And the expansive quality of being tender. And more powerful than ever.
Grounding in gratitude for what is and what isn’t is the most powerful spiritual practices out there. Here’s a personal/family update regarding gratitude and an invitation.
family update
We flew for the first time in many moons when we went to Kauai for a summer holiday a few weeks ago. We explored the gorgeous and sacred Na Pali Coast by boat and trail. We played hard. We breathed gratitude for the majesty of Mother Earth, Papa Sky, and the Gods of the Ocean.
We made it home safely from our trip and the next day Everett, our 17-year-old son, developed pain in his right lower abdomen. My intuition guided me to take him to the hospital for an Emergency Room visit, CT scan, then surgery to remove his appendix.
Grounding in gratitude the whole time, when I felt the rug pulled out from under me after 2 hours of sleep. The surgeon showed me photos of an unexpected liver mass on Everett’s young body he discovered during surgery.
Shock. Uncertainty. Conviction.
Settling solidly on the conviction that everything is going to be okay no matter what, I was grateful beyond measure. The belief in my ability to be present and attentive and non-reactive was solid and soft and powerful. Okay, sure, I admit that I sobbed, but then it cleared my head to ask what’s next? (Flying to Oahu for MRI on Thursday).
I’m choosing to let go of right or wrong about whether the surgeon should have biopsied the mass while he was in there. I’m choosing gratitude for Ev’s health. I’m choosing gratitude for this discovery now, and adopting compassionate curiosity of what’s next?
invitations
Invitations: Take a few moments to ask yourself: Where in your life do you choose being grateful over being right? Where do you hunger for ease and less worry? Where do you get your energy to keep on keeping on when life gets lifey?
You’re invited to join us next Friday for the Distinctions of Extraordinary Living Masterclass on Reactivation. Everett is once again our special guest.
When I think of religion, I consider the definition: “a pursuit or interest to which someone ascribes supreme importance.”
My religion is gratitude. I ascribe the practice of gratitude supreme importance in my life. I feel grounded when I’m in gratitude for what is, and grateful for what isn’t.
My favorite quote of the week
“The answer to who is right
and who is wrong is who cares?”
~ Terry Real, Ecology of Relationships
Big love & tenderness,
Amy
p.s. Let me know if you plan to join our July Masterclass on REACTIVATION with my special guest, Everett Gordon.
<this post is a featured guest blog from my beloved friend, Deva, who is traveling from Georgia to Lebanon>
OPEN
Open. It’s a very physically descriptive word that has a whole lot of metaphysically descriptive meaning. The physicality of, say, a simple open door is what we’re greeted with on this plane. But when we dive deeper into all that open door can stand for and allow for, well, there’s an infinite realm of possibilities to explore.
SUMMARY
And I do want to elaborate on that open door in this moment. As human creatures we can more easily discuss things that are tethered to this tactile world. Openness as a state of being may be less relatable in moving through. Secondly, I want to discuss that door as our very own door, again, not to make it otherworldly and distant. It is our door right here in this moment. Thirdly, we can’t speak of closed doors without reflecting on states of distrust and when we speak of open doors we are also speaking into trust.
PART I
In first considering the open door in relation to ourselves, consider the world and the inflow of the world into our open door, into our lives. There is verdant growth and tragic wars and endless waves crashing, and these things carry on outside our doors, so to open our door can lead to welcomed beauty just as easily as it can to unwanted misery. Do we trust to open our door to all of this? Sometimes it’s not even about trust, the door just slams open and in comes a surprising windfall or an unwanted atrocity, or both packaged as one.
TRUST
How do we get to the place of trust where we’re ready to let the world in through our open door? Well, that’s enough for another essay. But, yes, trust in self, other and source, as dear Amy always says, is a great place to start.
As I write, I am in Lebanon and here, and all across the Arab-speaking world, you greet people coming into your home with ‘marhaban bikoum.’ ‘Marhaban’ is the ‘welcome’ part of the greeting and ‘bikoum’ is essentially ‘you’ in plural form. This plural you is used no matter whether you are welcoming one person or many.
When I first studied classical Arabic in Fez, Morocco, my teacher told us that the plural you is always used. This is because culturally they recognize that everyone on this planet is walking around with two angels. Your good graceful angel on one shoulder and your dark little sinning angel on the other shoulder. No matter which one happens to be speaking into the ear of your guest, you welcome ALL into your home. When you can say ‘marhaban bikoum’ to any guest, you’ve built the just right amount of trust and courage to go through your open door and out into the world.
But if the world is too much, stay a while longer inside. Be tender. Be patient. Brew or stew. Do what needs to be done or undone until the world is not enough. Then the hunger and confidence and trust are all overflowing to the point you’re ready to burst. Then go be out in the world.
INTERLUDE
I like how if you let your eyes go soft and blur across the word ‘OPENNESS’ it almost reads as ‘ONENESS.’
PART II
That’s the second part of what our open door allows for; it doesn’t just let the world in, it also releases us into the world. We can show ourselves – any version – and grow tall as the eucalyptus in the sunshine. Or slither under a dark casino table. Going out through that open door often requires a full belly, a loudly thumping heart and fists full of courage. But it can also be as simple as sleepwalking, youthfully tumbling out with your lover’s palm in yours. Or a daring leap over that threshold. You certainly don’t want to be dragged out that open door. It can happen but if we’re not ready, it’s too raw and intrusive. We’ll go right back in, likely slamming the door closed behind us until trust can grow back again, if ever.
PART III
As with all things, the open door offers us a metaphor. It is both two converging and two opposing forces we are constantly dancing with. You can choose to see all negativity with going out into the world, and also see all negativity with eternally staying inside your dear door. Every moment we find ourselves with one foot in or one foot out, and then pivoting endlessly. And, in the end, it’s likely that there’s door after door, after door, eternally, not just the one. Realms and multiverses of them, enough for a Harry Potter-Inception hybrid brain explosion. Phew!
But navigating the eternal state of openness, whether easy or hard, with whatever angel on your shoulder is loudest, is best done, in my opinion, with trust in one hand and courage in the other.
Marhaban bikoum!
~ M. Deva Jebb-Albaba Wednesday, June 22nd, 2021 Tripoli, Lebanon
Here are some more ways to connect with this beautiful soul, Deva:
This past weekend was an opportunity for me to rest deeply. Napping three days in a row, I metabolized the 2nd vaccine shot and felt a swollen tenderness in my armpit of unusual proportion. Here are some ways I used this swollen tenderness, this restful weekend, and really the last year:
Swollen Tenderness Practice
a mindfulness practice, noticing my yoga practice is vital to my wellbeing. It requires reaching with my arm, doing downward dog, pulling on my armpit, and so many other activities of daily living require and benefit from this stretch!
a reminder that I’m willing to care for others in a way my selfish (read this clear example:”I don’t need the vaccine”) part of me doesn’t. Prior to the pandemic, I opted out of many vaccines. a demonstration of how I shifted from the extremes and became more “middle way’ in my approach to communal health. (see above)
a curiosity as my in-laws, in their mid-70s, had little to no reaction to their 2nd shot and my friends and I did? (a reminder “we” are not me; we all respond differently to life.)
a reminder to tap into my tenderness over and over again: Releasing the pain of my right hip and embracing the tenderness of my lymph system doing its job. an opportunity to be grateful for what I have and what I don’t. I don’t have a list of family and friends who died in the pandemic. I have privilege. (How do I use it for good is a vital question for me)
an inspiration for me to share and be grateful I know myself even more after the last year of the big pause. (I hope you do, too.)
Mother’s Day 2021
On Sunday, Mother’s Day, I cherished the time with my boys. Snuggling and reviewing assertive communication skills and sharing joys of familial connection. I realized after our hour long huddle/cuddle puddle about this very topic that Everett and I actually taught a Masterclass on it years ago.
Here’s a recording of this golden nugget. The link is below and it is also embedded in one of my favorite photos of him when he won the “Compassion Award” three years ago.
As I’m sitting here I’m experiencing pain in my right hip and confusion of the recent discovery of osteoarthritis. I just received my results from an X-ray last week indicating spurring of my hip and my mother says, “there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Where I’m from
Where I’m from is a Caucasian lineage of allowing pain to become suffering and generating a tone of stoic and psychic discontentment. My family doesn’t pay attention to vibes or energy or the transformative power of healing body/mind/soul. Now one discussed our interdependence. Somehow, I do.
Where I’d like to be
Where I’d like to be is feeling the feels, inviting the healing, all without manufacturing my own misery with a “woe is me” tone to my inner dialogue. I’d like to acknowledge the rigidity and frozenness of historical trauma caused by white body supremacy that lives in my White body. I’d like to understand how this lives in my cells, in my ancestors, and I’d like to be a part of the regenerative shift that needs to happen.
One thing I can do
One thing I can do to get me there is to lovingly acknowledge not only the pain, suffering and healing I’ve been through, but also honor what Black bodies go through, and vow to see how my experience can benefit others.
What Matters Most
What Matters Most is metabolizing the pain so that it doesn’t fester into suffering or resentment. Using anger as information and energy. Notice that boundaries need to be re-established and be willing to tolerate greater discomfort.
How can I be willing to set right what is wrong?
What can I do?
These are essential questions to contemplate for collective wellbeing.
I consider myself a Compassion Activist. And I experience anger. One thing that fuels my anger is the institutionalized racism that erodes the human soul and the respective communities that ripple out from the soul-sickness.
Anger and compassion are not mutually exclusive.
One thing I appreciate
One thing I appreciate is author, healer, trauma specialist Resmaa Menakem’s talk yesterday at the Science and Wisdom of Emotions summit about Somatic Abolitionism. He reminded us that Individual wokeness is insufficient, we must help others. Here’s some of the nuggets I gleaned from him and I strongly invite you to tune-in to him if this lands with you. He states:
Compassion is not for the feint at heart. It means you’ve been through some stuff and are able to touch some softness in yourself.The somatic collapses, constrictions and speediness in white body supremacy means we never slow down to feel it.We gotta feel it to heal it. We gotta grow compassion without doing a spiritual bypass and wanting everyone to just get along. Let’s dive into our “toybox” rather than our “toolbox” to do the essential healing required whatever the color of our skin.
What are you doing today to be the change you wish to see in the world?
Lately I’ve kept my discoveries and personal process to myself and I’ve received the universal nudge that I’ve got to keep sharing my thoughts about the regeneration needed for human hearts to endure this time of epic transformation and for all of us to thrive.
Hit reply and let me know if you, too, wish to heal your body, tenderize yourself heart, and take a stand to save the world.
One woman’s journey to an extraordinary life — from addiction and disconnection to seizing life in all of its sacredness, opportunity and exquisite beauty
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There is tremendous sacredness in the seemingly mundane. Ordinary life avails us ample opportunities to connect with a deeper appreciation and grounded sense of gratitude. From this place, ordinary life, I fully recognize that Source sources me.
Living in Hawaiʻi has granted me the opportunity to find the peaceful paradise within myself. Sure, the outside conditions are exquisite here in this tropical and abundant beauty.
Yet there is truth in the notion of no escape; wherever we go, there we are.
