Moment by Moment

 

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Moment by moment.

The moment when you stop trying to be somebody else, and begin to just be yourself.

The moment when you stop caring what others think.

The moment when you realize it is okay to ask for help.

The moment when you realize if you stop running away from fear, it stops chasing you.

The moment when you remember that laughter is fun, and smiling is contagious.

The moment when you know you are being guided by something greater.

The moment when you find your voice.

The moment when you are touched so deeply, your heart feels like it will split open, and this feels so raw, yet so incredibly human.

The moment when you realize endings are just the next step in whatever life will bring.

The moment when you realize love is all that matters.

The moment when you understand that everything in life is a gift, no matter how it is wrapped.

The moment when competition comes in second place to cooperation.

The moment when whispering words of wisdom has more impact than shouting words of hate.

The moment when the fight for your religion is not going to matter.

The moment that you realize that being prettier, smarter, faster, is not going to matter.

The moment when you realize you are perfect just the way you are.

The moment when you realize that being the answer to someone else’s prayer, is far more rewarding than getting your way.

We live.

We learn.

We love.

Moment by Moment.

 

Count Your Blessings

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We have all heard the saying count your blessings.  Be grateful.  Appreciate what you have.  Say thank you. Sometimes this feels fake. Does it not?  When we are having a bad day, or things do not go as we had hoped. When we lose someone we love, become ill, have a child that struggles socially, or just don’t have the life we want, we don’t want to appreciate what we have! And at that moment, we shouldn’t. We are not ready.

It is not the time to count our blessings but to become brutally honest, and shout,”Wow, this sucks!  I do not like this at all.” Allow ourselves to feel lonely, sad, pissed off, as deeply and thoroughly as possible.  To be disappointed, frustrated, jealous, heartbroken. To leave judgment aside, and stop labeling our emotions as good or bad. If we are angry, be freaking angry or unbelievably sad. Scream, punch pillows, be a bitch. Most of us, don’t allow ourselves to feel. Instead, we want to blame someone else because we don’t like what we are feeling. Sometimes it is another person, or even God that we blame. Yet, hiding, judging, blaming or denying our feelings is what keeps these emotions hanging around like an unwanted house guest. And we never actually get to count our blessings.

Just this week, I was given a chance to feel the gamut of human emotions. I allowed them to come and go like a summer sun shower. At the end of the week, after a particularly long day, I sat and watched my son, Drew, in his Tae Kwon Do class. Having struggled with gross motor coordination, he has progressed beautifully, and watching him attempt to follow Master Kwon was beautiful. Yet, I was distracted, as news of my daughter’s torn ACL ligament was fresh in my mind, and a mother’s worry about an serious injury, trumps roundhouse kicks. Emotions such as anger, frustration, fear, sadness, disbelief took their turn, emerging from my heart in succession. In fact, I was so completely engrossed in details of picking up her pain medications, scheduling surgery, canceling college soccer ID camps, I did not notice a boy, much older than Drew, who had run off the mat, crying, until he was right next to me. The boy sat huddled in a ball so tight, it seemed he wanted to disappear. After a few minutes of encouragement by his mother and instructor, the boy returned to class, leaving behind tears imprinted upon his mother’s heart.

I was about to go back to the mindless chatter in my head, but life had other plans. The  boys’ mother spoke to me, as she wiped away her own tears.”He had a brother who was eighteen years old.  He died a year ago.”  She pointed to her younger son, now back out on the mat. I observed his arms folded protectively in front of his chest, adamantly protesting his participation in class. “He has never been the same,” she added, before turning away.

I knew her wounds were still fresh, a year is drop in the bucket when it comes to losing a child. Without trying, I pushed aside my worries and listened compassionately. I did not know what it would be like to lose a child at the tender age of eighteen, but I offered up the information how Drew struggled when he first started class, and how great the instructors had been with him. I explained his sensory processing disorder. How his confidence is often compromised because of all he has been through.

The mom then uttered,”Is that okay if I pray for your son?”

I was speechless.  How harrowing an experience she has been through, yet she was praying for my son. I thanked her, and could not gather my thoughts as before, nor could I tap into the feelings. I could only begin counting my blessings. There are no accidents. I had allowed myself eight hours of worry, anger, sadness and honest frustration at life. And now it was time to see the gift life had just planted in my lap. The gift of remembering that life happens when we are making other plans. And sometimes what happens in life is shitty, and sometimes it is horrific. It is not about denying our feelings, but being honest with ourselves.  And only through honesty, can we somehow become thankful for all that we have, come to know that it is not what happens to us in life, but how we react to it. And it is not about all that we do not have, but how beautiful and giving life is, no matter what we are feeling. How living life from this higher perspective, sends  a wave of appreciation out into the world, or at least to the person sitting next to you.

Of course, we cannot rush it – that moment of appreciation will appear when we are ready.   It may take eight hours or eight years. Grief will run its course as our the tears we shed, wash away all that clouds our vision, until we begin to know how lucky we all truly are. How crappy things are often dressed up in an ice pack of pain, yet honesty reduces the swelling of unfortunate events, until we allow ourselves to open our eyes to what is next for us. How there is a time for everything, and if we do not get there on own, life will help us out. We often have little control in this life, but we can make the choice to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

I did silently pray for both the mother next to me, and her son. And then I thought about how I could ruminate on all that my son is not, or I could admire his strengths, his gifts and the beautiful person that he is.  I could focus on the hill that my daughter will be climbing, all she may be missing, or I could bring to mind what life may be bringing to her during her recovery – opportunities she may not have had, new experiences, and a strength deep inside that she had never before witnessed.

We can never know what life has in store for us, and we can say, “Really life?  Is this the best that you got?” And then we can say, “thank you.” For our hidden treasures are often wrapped in a tattered quilt, and when we spend the time expressing our hearts no matter what, life will drop a beautiful gift into our laps. And when we are ready, we can open it, and at the right moment, give it away to someone else.

Coming Out of the Closet

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Closets are for more than just hiding from the world who we choose to love. They are about how we choose to keep secret a thought, idea, feeling, wish and belief from the world, for fear of disapproval. It is where we hide, until something or someone cracks open the door. We may decide in life to no longer play a sport we have been driven to play our whole lives. Perhaps we desire to engage in an alternate profession, dissolve a marriage, or worship in a different sanctuary. Maybe, we can see “dead” people or communicate with animals, and we worry that people will think we are crazy. We may be wanting to act, think and feel differently than we were taught, but be afraid to say, hey world, this is me. And yet when we have the courage to push open the closet door, we say I love myself enough to shout it out to the worldTo be true to who I am now, or maybe who I have always been. 

Some of us have elaborate walk in closets with tons of stuff hidden that we haven’t put on in years.  Others, have simple shelves, open for everyone to see. Regardless of what is in our closets, it feels so good to open the door and clear the shelves of old clothes that are no longer us; shoes with holes, and those damn wire hangers from the dry cleaners that always sneak in when we are not looking. All this stuff that has gathered in our closets is just taking up space. It is simply fear and doubt that we have gathered over the years; denial and the need for approval, collecting dust.

One morning, a few weeks ago, my son wanted to go off to school with his nails polished. HIs sisters did him the honor of painting his nails, each a different color. He also had his hair slicked up into the greatest Mohawk I have ever seen, and put on his best button down collared shirt and khaki pants. He was so proud of how he looked, and so was I. For him, there are no closets, as is the truth for many children. For they do not see labels, only what is on the inside.

It was not to long ago, my daughter was able to choose any doll she wanted from the shelves at the toy store for her fifth birthday. There were hundreds of dolls to choose from.  It took her awhile, and then she chose the doll she wanted.  She chose the only African American doll on the shelves. Our of curiosity, I asked her if she noticed anything different about the doll.  Her reply was that the doll was really cute and the other dolls, not so much. It brought tears to my eyes, how innocent and loving children can be, how they view the world with love, not appearances. Our children have so much to teach us.

Yet, somewhere along the way, when children grow, labels become more  important, insecurities emerge and there is a desire to fit into a box instead of being different, being themselves. Yet, is it not how we learn, how our world has become more beautiful, when we are able to be ourselves, love who we are unconditionally?  It is the true key to happiness and life where our hearts are open, our days fulfilled.

I would be lying if I said we were not worried the morning, that our son went off to school with polished nails; concerned he would be made fun of, laughed at. But he did not think twice.  Off he went with an air of confidence you always want for your child. When my son came home that afternoon, nothing really came of his wearing nail polish.  For this, I must thank those  brave souls who had once been able to open their closet door, be themselves, love themselves, and honor  themselves. To say, I know this is different from what you see, but it is not wrong. It is me. Perhaps one day there will be no more closets, no more labels.

It is never too late! The next time one of your closet doors becomes unhinged, take a leap of faith.  Remember what matters most is that we honor and we love ourselves for who we are.  We can believe whatever we choose, simply because it is what we believe. We can decide who to love today, regardless of who we loved yesterday. And perhaps, someday, instead of defending our religious and political beliefs with bloodshed, we can simply choose in that moment, what to believe and where to worship. We will be free to be you and me.

Since that morning, the polish has faded, along with Drew’s interest in it. Maybe it will return, maybe not.  Perhaps things become more of a big deal, when we make it that way. We judge others, put labels and attack those that are different, until they have no choice but to rally, fight back, or sneak back into their closet. If we accept everyone as they are, whether they dress differently, pray differently, speak differently, look differently, perhaps nobody will need to come out of the closet.  There will be no doors shut around them, no labels needed to talk about who they are.  We will not be Muslim, Jewish, smart, poor, overweight. We will just be human.

What’s in your closet? What words are you hiding beneath that old suit? What idea is hanging beside one of those old bridesmaid dresses? What creation is tucked away behind that box of old pictures?

When we come out of the closet, we are taking a step not only down the road less travelled, but but a giant leap for humanity. We need to ask ourselves, in the end, does it really matter what other people think?

I will end with a quote from the amazing, Bruce Springsteen.  The boss sings praises in one of the greatest rock and roll songs of all times, Rosalita:

Windows are for cheaters, chimneys for the poor
Oh, closets are for hangers, winners use the door
So use it Rosie, that’s what it’s there for

Let’s all begin to use the door.  That’s what it’s there for.

 

 

 

 

Pin The Tail on the Donkey

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The year is 1976. I am eight years old. It is my birthday party. Back then, kids birthday parties were easier, and much cheaper.  We are gathered in my basement, crepe paper streaming across the unfinished ceiling. My friends rushing through the never out of fashion birthday song so we can all indulge in the delicacy of home made cupcakes.

Now it is game time.  Always a crowd favorite, we begin to play, Pin the Tail on the Donkey.  For me, it was always more fun to watch others than to be the one who was blindfolded.  I tend to like to know what is in front of me. Yet, everyone gets a turn, and soon enough, the blindfold is tied securely behind my head. I am spun around, three maybe four times. Just enough to mix me up as to where I am going, but not too much that I fall down and crack my head on the cement wall.  “Okay,” someone shouts.  “Go.”

I walk forward, cautiously, my arms outreached in front of me, my fingers tightly gripping the tail with the sticker. I feel my way towards the picture of the unassuming donkey.  Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I reach the wall, relieved that I feel the paper and have not veered off course facing an exposed water pipe or worse gone in the total opposite way about to trip on the staircase. If you are the least bit perceptive, the laughter always helped with this issue, anyway.  The louder the laugher, the more you are heading in the wrong direction.

Touching the wall, I clumsily feel my way, hoping to  get it right; the exact spot where the tail is supposed to go.  “You cannot feel,” someone shouts.  “That is cheating.”  I want to shout back that I am the birthday girl and I can cheat if I want to, but I know that is not really a thing.  So I go for it. I press the tail firmly down upon the paper.  Laughter erupts as I lift my blindfold.  Both disappointment and a smile emerge simultaneously as I am the one who feels like an ass, but see it all seems funny, so it is ok.  I see that I have pinned the tail on the donkey’s head, and I shrug and hand the blindfold to the next lucky contestant on “this is a foreshadowing of the reality of life,” game.

Soon enough our birthday parties become teenage parties. And then we leave home. We set out on our journey, our hopes and dreams spinning around in our hearts and mind, and we are off.  It is our turn, each and every day we arise.  We make plans, we mark our calendars and we go about our days, filling our lives with dates, jobs, weddings, babies, and funerals. Sooner or later, we get spun around.  Traffic emerges, a love one passes away, infertility hits, a call comes from the school principal, or mother nature erupts dumping life upon us like a tornado. And there we are, our hands outstretched in front of us trying to find our way back, to the perfect spot.

That never happens.

Life is a game, and everyone gets a turn. Some people seem to take their turns slowly, with caution, and life feels hard, each and every breath, labored. And those that feel challenged look at others who have it easier .Why is life so easy for her? Why is he so successful and I struggle each and every day?  Do the ones who have it easy, simply have better inner ear equilibrium, thus spinning does not effect them as much?  Or perhaps they cheat, peering above the blindfold when nobody is looking, for their success is more important than anything else.  Maybe, they are just lucky in life.  Maybe not.  Maybe we just think some have it good, but while they are alone, when everyone has left the party, their world is anything, but easy.

Truth is, whether we move to the front or lurk behind in back, we all have moments where life is easy, and life is hard. And the less we hear the laughter from those around us, the harder life feels.  For regardless of what happens in our lives, it is not where we put the tail, but how we react to our efforts; how we feel when we take off our blindfold.

There is no reward for pinning it exactly as it is supposed to be, anyway.  Our reward does not arise from being perfect, but allowing ourselves to fumble and miss the mark.  Can we laugh?  Let ourselves off the hook?  Realizing that deep down life is all just a really intricate amazing game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey, and we are all doing the best we can, enables us all to breathe a bit easier. After all, just playing the game of life is courageous. Sometimes we get dizzy and fall down.  Other times, we nail it.  And still, there are the times when we think we are going in the right direction, and knock our heads against the wall. What then? We grab some ice, rest, and wait till we feel better to move on, to try again.

We know as children what it is like to laugh at our mistakes, forgive and move on.  Unfortunately, too often, when we grow, so does our judgement.  This judgment is what often keeps us locked in those chains, never trying again. We are all way too hard, both on ourselves, and each other.

For we all have bad moments, days, even lives.  Let’s take off our blindfolds, open our eyes and laugh at our mistakes.  We are far less likely to stay off course if we lighten up.  And if we start with ourselves – love ourselves, forgive ourselves, laugh at ourselves – we may just realize what a big game life is, and agree to have a bit more fun.

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Most children no longer play, Pin the Tail on the Donkey, but all childhood games are just practice for the game of life. Like the old saying goes, “It is not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game.”

Let’s play the game of loving ourselves deeply, showering others with compassion, and laughing out loud as often as possible, especially when we veer off course.

We are all invited to the party, so let’s play.

Tag, you’re it.

 

 

Endless Moments, Endless Chances

 

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As I sit here on a Sunday morning, the rain falling mindlessly outside, I think about this moment.  There are so many moments in our lives, and what we choose to do with them determines the path we take, our next adventure, even the happiness or suffering, we may feel.

In this moment, we can become angry at the insensitivity of an ignorant politician, remembering his hateful words that hurt, like darts to our hearts.  Or we can even make it more personal.  We can become lost in our head about something that happened yesterday, last year, or twenty years ago.  Dwelling in the unfairness of the situation or blaming another for the pain we were caused.  We can even worry about the future, allowing the unknown to stall within depths of our motor, throwing obsessions at us for free.

We have all done all of these scenarios.  We know how to do them.  It is a habit. We know how to get lost in another time, another feeling, but we do not quite know how to stay in the moment, how to just be. We become anxious, fearful, angry or depressed. We have become so caught up in our lives – doing, achieving, acting – that we do not know why we are here, or care to find out. We do not know how to create peace in our lives and the world around us.

This realization truly hit home the other day, when I walked into the nail salon and there was a girl in a wheel chair, living out her life with a physical disability. She was having a conversation with a woman about how she felt.  She was loud, without a care as to who heard.  I smiled.  Her words were muffled as her mouth did not quite work as efficiently as ours, but we all got her point. While she was trapped in a body that did not work as well as most other humans, she was free to be who she was, acknowledge how she felt at any given moment without regret, fear of judgement or guilt.

These examples are all around us.  Each week that I bring my son Drew to child therapy, there is a boy who is always there.  After Drew goes inside the playroom, the boy looks up and says, “You always go shopping.” The first time, I was taken aback, but looked at him, and replied, “Yes, I do.”  The boy continued, “Why do you always leave?”  I told him that there are stores nearby and it is a good time to do my shopping.  He smiled.  I smiled.  And now my heart melts a little more each time I see this boy.  He does not care that I am a stranger. Most special needs children have this wonderful gift of forgoing small talk. They have their own way of being, and it is more than refreshing, we can learn a great deal from them.  They live from their hearts, often with no filter.  They say what is on their minds, cutting through the chains we so often place on ourselves. They live in the moment.

We have so much to learn from those who are not like us.  We can often feel sorry for those who are different, but they have so much to teach us.  How to love without fear, speak without lies, and live each and every moment just as we feel.We see others who have a disability or special needs, as a liability, yet it feels as though, we are the ones trapped in a world with rules that often stuff the truth, choke the spontaneousness right out of us, cause us to live anywhere other than right here in this moment.

Yet, we do not need a disability, nor a developmental diagnoses to live in the moment.  We can take back our hearts from our minds that so often leads us so often away from the moment.  We can do this by becoming aware when we are anywhere but the moment.  We can spend time in nature, walking, observing, breathing.

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And with practice, we gain back our power.  We are no longer reacting to life, but living consciously.  We can begin to choose each and every moment to be in the moment.  We only need to remember to breathe, and just be.  We can see when we are off in another place, and gently bring ourselves back to the moment.  For it is in the moment, that we find who we are and why we are here.

In the moment, it does not matter what we do – sit alone or find company, cry or laugh, dance or sing.  It only matters that we open our hearts, and honor ourselves in every moment.

And when we do this, something magical happens.  For it is in the moment that the fear disappears, the blame evaporates and the truth emerges.  It is here that we find peace, forgiveness, forgo addictions, release hate, and find compassion for who we are, as we would a child.  We begin to stop caring what others say or think, for loving ourselves, outweighs another’s judgement, a million to one.

If we want something out of our life, whether it be happiness, peace, a soul mate, even greater financial abundance, then the way to receive everything you desire, is to go back to the moment.  Everything we want, every question we have, every emotion we feel is right there, inside of us, ready to be loved.

All we really need, is this moment.  Lucky for us, our lives are made up of endless moments, endless chances. So if you miss one, remember, there will always be another, waiting just for you.

 

The Light of Darkness

How easy is it to love and feel good about a random act of kindness?  But what about extending our hearts to those that want to do us harm?  Those who open fire on innocent victims? Those that abuse, rape, and display actions of bigotry and hatred?  It is not easy to open our hearts in these times on our earth, but that is what is asked of us as human beings.  To love those that seem unloveable.  And if we start with our own hearts, our own transgressions, love ourselves no matter what, we can begin to change the world.

Loving our own hearts is like lighting a candle.   At first, we are all walking around in the dark, fumbling because we cannot see.   We hold our unlit candle tightly in our fist, gripping it with all we have.  For some of us, the wick is not visible and we need to peel back some layers of the candle. This takes patience.  When we have the candle with a wick, we need to find a match, a spark.  We need to seek out what inspires our passion, lights the fire in our bellies. We need to find the light in the darkness. In our search for a match, we somehow stumble upon the dimmest light at the other end of the darkened room.  While this may seem like a coincidence, it is our destiny dressed up as a random occurrence.

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Now, we are faced with a choice.  We can welcome another into our world, whose candle has already been lit. This is the quickest and most direct path in finding a way to light our own, or we can judge and turn away.  When we choose the help of another, we form a bond of unity that is stronger than each of us as individuals.

Now our candle is lit, yet, the room, feels dark still because the light of two candles does not illuminate such a vast space.  So we wander with our lit candle, often bumping into things and others whose candles are not lit.  We ask others if they want their candle lit, and when they say no, we continue on, sometimes wondering why we are carrying a lit candle at all.  We continue to bump and stumble and there is a tendency to give up, but then we suddenly are asked for a light.  We share our candle as we share our love.  And the more we help others light their candle, the more we notice that the room looks a bit brighter. For everyone whose candle is lit is sharing their light. Soon, if we are patient, the room begins to fully illuminate. Even those that did not want their candle lit, cannot resist the brightness, and ask for a light.  The more candles that are lit, the more we see the unlit ones still milling around in the dark. Yet it is hard to stay in the darkness with so much light surrounding us.  Those that candles are not yet lit will eventually ask for help, or leave the room.  Both is fine.  Both is divine.  Both is perfect.  This is how we find the light of darkness.

We have a choice everyday to turn away from those who need our love the most.  We have all come here to light our candles.  And to help others who cannot find theirs.  When we see an act of violence, do we want to retaliate?  Do we want to meet hatred with hatred, darkness with darkness?  Or do we offer our light to anyone who needs it?  Do we scorn those who are in such fear and pain or do we offer another way?  When we offer guidance without judgement, we light another’s candle.  When we help an elderly person across the street, we light their candle.  And yes, when we send compassion and love to those that hate, we light their candle.  Whether or not they accept it, their hatred fades, if only for a moment.

When faced with adversity, as what is happening across our planet, our light may flicker, and we may even wonder if it will burn out.  But it is not adversity that blows out our candles, it is the closing of our hearts.  An open heart will always shine brightly.

I am an Angel

I am an angel. I live amongst you. But if you look for my wings, you won’t see them. But I am here. I am everywhere. I sit beside you on the subway. I stand in front of you in line at the grocery store. I idle behind you in traffic.

I am a teacher.  I am a waiter.  I manage your money. I pick up your garbage.

I am a wife.  I am a brother. I am a child.

I am heartbroken. I am homeless. I am distracted. I am in physical pain. I am paralyzed. I am an addict. I am diabetic. I have ended my life by suicide. I live alone in the woods. I am medicated. I am mentally ill. I am divorced. I have lost a child, a friend, a pet. I am a refugee. I undergo biopsies. I miss game winning passes. I am a monk. I am adopted. I have a disease.  I am infertile. I am jobless. I have been abused. I have been raped. I am penniless. I am you.

Because of all that I am, I cry. I scream. I blame. I curse the injustices of life. I am impatient, frustrated and jealous. I lash out. I gossip. I hate.

And then I remember, I am an angel. I know that everything I experience is here to help me find my wings. And when I am no longer afraid of the depths of my grief, and the waves of my anger. When I forgive, release blame and judgment, I realize my higher purpose, and find my wings.

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How will you know me?

When adversity strikes, you may most easily recognize me. I am the one flapping my wings, allowing all my feelings to both gracefully emerge, and leave when they are ready. I welcome all that arises in my life to stay as long as it wishes, knowing that chasing or wishing it away, is but an invitation to linger.

Written on my wings is the saying, All is Well. When life goes my way, and also when it does not. I am at peace in the face of war. I am curious, not fearful. I am aware, not asleep. I pray. I light candles. I volunteer. I love without borders. Fate guides my minutes, hours and days. I walk the path from breath to breath, from beginning to end, allowing whatever is in my heart to arise. I understand my choices will not dictate my life, but will impact how little or greatly I will suffer.

As the wind increases and remits, as do the tides, I allow life to unfold as it is meant, and this is when you will see my wings spread far and wide. For I know, all that I go through is for a higher purpose. And I begin to see life in all its beauty – the depth of love, the glorious colors of autumn, the awesomeness of the human heart that sheds tears as it heals. I share. I help others. I let all the angels whose wings are hidden, know that all is well.

I look like you. I act like you. And that is because you are an angel, too. Until you find your wings, I will share mine.

 

Inspired by the teachings of Matt Kahn.

The Myth of Attention Deficit Disorder

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My seven-year-old son, Drew wandered into my room the other night.  I had been listening to a webcast of a spiritual teacher, Matt Kahn, who teaches about many things within the realm of life, love, and spirituality.   Matt has a certain transmission that after a few minutes you feel like you have just received a two-hour massage. You can literally feel the energy running through your body.  Sound strange?  Well, we all have energy within us.  Just close your eyes and sit for a few minutes.  With practice, you can feel your hands and feet begin to vibrate.

Without saying a word, Drew wedged himself between our dog, Bella and me. The three of us listened, our minds busy with our own interpretations, thoughts and dreams. Drew asked what some words meant, and then offered up the information that Matt felt calming to him.

While this all sounds fairly ordinary, there is something you should know about Drew.

Drew struggles at times. He is smart and sensitive. He is often behaves remarkably, one on one.  What we know is that is has actual physical sensitivities. He doesn’t like tags on his shirts, pants that don’t fit right, blankets that are not soft. And we know he is a very loving, sensitive child emotionally.  To help with these sensitivities, we have enlisted the support of an occupational therapist who has worked with him on gross motor, balance and a few other areas of developmental lagging.

Where he also struggles is in school, in large groups, anywhere where it is loud and chaotic. In kindergarten, he often got riled up, wound up. He was the class clown.  Yet, all those behavioral charts that came home last year, were fruitless.  What has always worked best at home when he is over stimulated is encouraging him to build a fort and spend some quiet time, alone.  Not usually possible in school, though.

Fast forward to one year later, one month into first grade, we began receiving the emails again from his teacher.

“Drew does not sit still during lesson lectures.”

“Drew has a hard time in recess keeping his hands to himself.”

“Drew always seems to be talking in class.”

It seemed that Drew’s inability to sit still and focus in school was destined to be labeled, ADD – Attention Deficit Disorder or ADHD – Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.  Or was he?

That night, while Matt was speaking, and Drew was snuggling, and Bella was dreaming, and the teacher’s emails were spinning around in my head, it hit me.

Drew sits for hours playing Legos.  Drew feels better after jumping on the trampoline.  Drew likes to light candles, smell sage burning, and enjoys calming music.  Drew is smart, creative and loving.  Drew is affected by listening to Matt.  Drew is very sensitive, and this goes beyond the physical.

Drew is sensitive to others’ feelings and moods.  Drew can walk into a room and feel the intensity of what is happening. Drew can feel good because it is Friday and people are excited the weekend is coming, and yet has no idea what day of the week it is.  Drew can feel frustration from a teacher, parent or sibling and resist going near them.  It is very common for all children to absorb and act out the energy of what is happening within a family.  When parents are fighting, we don’t have to look hard for a child who is misbehaving.  This is increased ten fold by sensitive children.

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Drew’s empathic nature may sound strange, yet he is not any different from many adults walking around the world who prefer to be alone, don’t like crowds or loud noises, get riled up by others, and are very sensitive.  These are people who can sense another feelings. Barrie Davenport lists traits of these sensitive, empathic people in her blog post, Empath Traits: 22 Signs You Are A Highly Sensitive Person.

Karen Goode goes on to describe children who are empathic in her blog post, Living with an Empathic Child  “Just imagine what it feels like to be an intuitive or empathic child and not have the language to explain your experiences to your parents or teachers. A child who is overloaded with the energy of others may have on-going illnesses, show depressive episodes, lash out in anger, cry without reason, or try to “fix” things between adults who argue or do not get along well.”

These sensitive, empathic children are not only overloaded as they will take on or absorb the energy of others, but in order to feel calm and peaceful, they need to get this energy out of their bodies. Many empathic people love exercise for exactly this reason.  In an interview, Debbie Phelps had described her son Michael, an Olympic champion, who was labeled as ADHD, as needing to “channel his energies into swimming.”

Like Michael Phelps, and Drew, there are approximately four million children and adolescents who are energetically sensitive.

Drew is not ADD or ADHD. Drew does not have a “deficit.”  This beautiful child is an ESEC- an energy sensitive empathic child. When he is in a crowd, he is actually helping by absorbing some of the energy around him.  In a way, it is like taking someone’s anger, and saying, I got this, so you can feel better.  Only this is not deliberate or understood by most, especially not a child. And unless this energy is expelled, it builds within us. The only way these children know how to “get rid” of what they absorbed is to move, speak, jump, run.  Of course, they cannot sit still for a lesson!

Sensitive children in how they absorb energy are similar to animals.  How we handle our animals is that we say they need to exercise, to get it out of their system.  The only difference is we do not force our animals to sit still for hours on end in a classroom, nor do we medicate them.

Sean, who is an adult now, was diagnosed ADD in 7th grade was put on medication and describes his experience. The medication “helped me focus in school, but I felt like a zombie and not myself. Since then I’ve been able to become more aware of things and am able to focus when need be and yet not lose myself. I’ve created kind of an on/off switch.”

Like Drew, most sensitive children simply do not have the awareness or tools to help. These children are all so misunderstood and they need to be nurtured, validated and helped in a completely different way. The first step is awareness.

It takes a village to raise a child, so let’s all begin to help these children by becoming aware, and celebrate them as beautiful, sensitive, empathic human beings.

The Stories Whispered While I Was Sleeping

 

I have a confession. I have been a tyrant. A domineering, controlling, relentless commander for the past forty years, and the victim of my transgressions has been you, my beloved body.

I have judged, manipulated, hated and resented you. I have taken you for granted. When we were younger, I pushed you beyond your limit with exercise and dieting, while always demanding perfection. Then there were the pregnancies. You performed beautifully, feeding and protecting the little bodies growing inside of me – such magic. Yet, there I was again, criticizing those stretch marks, extra pounds and scars. Now, at forty-seven, age has come with its own set of judgments and standards. Too many lines, bulges and sags, where once, there was none. I have plucked, shaved, colored, waxed and whitened. And you have allowed me all along to think this is what mattered.

With all that I have thrown at you, there has been nothing but love and the beautiful workings of a perfectly functioning body in return. Yes, you are perfectly functioning, even with headaches, disease, broken bones and fatigue. Symptoms that I tried to quiet, ever so loudly with pills, surgeries, caffeine and sugar.

You see, I did not like that you were slowing me down. I did not know that you had a bigger plan. That it was your way, the only way you knew how to tell me it was time to put down my sword and pick up my heart. To put aside the future, and release the past, living in the moment through each glorious breath.

I did not know that slowing down was what I needed to do, so I could open my eyes and truly see my life. Appreciate the flawless workings of nature that surrounded me, feel the touch from another human as the connection to all that we are, and understand the thirst of pain in my child’s eye was there for her to feel, not to be quenched.

I did not know that when I slowed down, time became abundant, and love arose, and in that space, came a chance to feel it all. To cast aside judgment and blame, and welcome home all feelings – especially the unfavorable ones like anger, sadness, jealousy confusion and boredom. That allowing my feelings to slowly destroy me, through the lowest moment of despair, was where the miracles began to happen – I found the path back to perfect health. How the power of relaxation is not a luxury, but a necessity, a daily prescription. That too much time with technology is over stimulating, while not enough time alone is stagnating. That nature is calming, as is the company of a dog. How the flow of creativity allows for the joyful fluttering of my heart, and the feeling of an afternoon nap is not about laziness, but self-care. And playing more within the confines of an adult life creates the opportunity to dream, while the healing power of music and laughter is bountiful.

Stillness is the way back to health, for it is in this space, that our heart whispers all the answers. It is here, where we wake up. It is not time to write our own rules? Blanket medical procedures, general prescriptions, mass dieting and exercise do not work. For we are each unique, with our own needs, our own stories whispered from deep within. What makes one heart sing causes another discomfort. What heals one person harms another. Hating our bodies, and quick fixes only up the ante for the lessons we came here to learn. Perhaps, we have all been too busy shouting judgments and opinions that we have never stopped to hear the stories whispered from of our own bodies while we were sleeping.

Stillness does speak. I heard in beautiful verse, the answers emerging from my tingling skin. It was sinus pressure that erupted, each time I held my feelings inside. Migraines, when I have given away my power. Adrenal fatigue when I have pushed you beyond limits, choosing another over myself. Broken bones, a way to slow myself down, take a break.

There is always more to know and learn, and with patience, the understanding will come. Until then, I accept and I receive each physical discomfort as a gift, knowing there is something beautiful waiting on the other side.

Wrapped within these gifts are the hearts yearning for self-love. Here begins the process of dissolving the physical reminders, steering us gently back to the path of perfect health. And it is you, my body, surrounding my all- knowing heart with your beautiful layers of perfectly working divine miracles that have opened my eyes and led the way.