Lent 2022: Underneath the anger

March 4, 2022 — 1 Comment

The art of removing my armor and laying down my defenses requires that I first acknowledge and maybe even allow myself to experience the anger of being hurt/attacked. Even if that’s not anyone’s intention, and I want to believe it’s often not, my perception can overpower reality. Perception can become reality.

So then first, allow for the anger. I can’t run from it, I cannot pretend it’s not brewing and written all over my brows. I cannot ignore my anger. And it too shall pass when I’m too spent from living in that. And after the exhaustion and after a peek into another way of seeing the world, then, there’s a chance for something softer.

Then in my breath, I see my fallibility and tendency to push others then. Then I can see my survival tactics. Then I can see my fear that, if I don’t stand for myself, no one else will! That’s the lie: that we are alone and no one has our back. That’s the lie that’s been passed down from the beginning of time: that we must fend for ourselves because no one has a plan for us otherwise. That’s the lie I’m trying to let go.

In seeing how I have wronged when I feel wronged and when I have offended in my defending, then I can forgive myself and if necessary, ask for forgiveness. The latter is hard and I suck at it. The former is harder, and I overcompensate by doing more, working harder.

Maybe I’m best when I’m too exhausted to defend myself while at the same time, wise and compassionate enough to see everyone around me is just simply scared as well. We are all scared; now who acts out of love still, is the bravest of us all.

Lent 2022: Fasting my defenses

March 3, 2022 — Leave a comment

…and surrendering my armor.

I have spent most of my life feeling like I need to protect myself, and showcase strength in a manner that feels on my skin. I have been taught and I have experienced a world that doesn’t have my life and presence as things of importance. Well, then let me show you I’m worthy to be respected. But this actually has only pushed people away, built my own guilt, and encouraged me to build narratives of fear & separation.

Can I trust that my worth is secure by surrendering my need to self-protect? Can I hear all the words and see all the actions from eyes of compassion and grace? Maybe they are not against me. Maybe they are simply hurt and you came across their path. Maybe your lack of defenses will be a connective strength…

Today a man was very rude to me, and I felt my body tense and go into anger. My thoughts built tales about him. I was so angry that he got away with being so mean to me. Already feeling like I missed my fast… I took a breath, and slowly let go. What was under my anger and within my stories? My sadness. My fear. My ability to still hope and still go about life not expecting rudeness. That was an exception. That was not about me. My response is about me.

Advent: Day 14

December 11, 2021 — Leave a comment

I really wanted to stick to my personal challenge of writing daily blogs for advent. When I missed one last week, I justified, explained it away by saying it was my sabbath. It wasn’t a trickery. It made sense in the moment, and I really liked how that explanation bloomed out of my own mishap.

However, trying to write this week has been hard. My brain feels uninspired. My heart felt uninspired. Maybe I had used up my week’s worth of inspiration creating that 11:11 album. I listened to it on Tuesday and was sobbing myself; it does work having someone cheer you on when you feel like you’re crushed in the dumps. I skipped + missed writing the last two days. I didn’t have much to say. And I already felt like my last post was being phoned in. Why? What am I trying to prove? Who am I trying to prove to? I think it becomes a bit inevitable that you feel responsible to the community that might read these posts, and I guess I didn’t want to let you down. So if some of the last posts were eh, I’m sorry. I’m trying. Why didn’t I just say, I got nothing to say…?

But today I do have something because last night I got rejected from a writing lab I really wanted to be in. I’ve been working on a screenplay for 4 years and for this Sundance fellowship, I pulled 3 all nighters to write 5 personal essays and complete the 2nd draft. That week in October, I worked from 8a-4:30pm, had rehearsal from 6-9pm, and worked on my application from 9-3am. It was hard, and it was glorious. I felt motivated. I felt like this is what my life can be full of — meaningful civic work, acting projects that are important, and creations that could change the world. I was really excited and I sent in my application. And I waited for the last two months.

Before the no, you have not been selected, I felt hope. I felt possibility. I felt excited imagining the people on the other side seeing my story and my heart. I felt excited about a future where I could have collaborators that understood how I saw the world and where I want to take this world. My waiting was full of possibility + hope. And the no came and the flood erupted. Duh. You suck. Of course, it would never happen. The sadness. The frustration. The desire to just stop working on this story because very very honestly I may just not have what it takes. I’m sad. And I’m disappointed in myself. And my mind starts to even wander into places of comparison — why does SHE always get it? why do people like THEM get these? people like me…never…

Sometimes in the waiting, you do get an answer, and it brings up feelings and beliefs. How can these answers, which we want, getting an answer, be more helpful than harmful?

Maybe it’s a sign to take a break. Maybe it is a sign to stop altogether.
However, this I know.
It’s an opportunity to embrace the feelings and question the harmful beliefs that come up.
It’s an opportunity to invite the right people into this heartache or tough moment.
It’s an opportunity to reevaluate the deep deep goal. For me, I wanted the validation that I am good enough of a writer and I wanted a community to collaborate together with.

Every answer in this lifetime of waiting is an opportunity to witness what comes up, what we care about in this world, and who we can share. We can’t do this alone. We can’t. We are made for community.

Advent: Day 11

December 9, 2021 — Leave a comment

The faith of possibility and fulfillment walks hand in hand with the risk of disappointment. The taste of disappointment reveals what our heart wants. What our heart longs for gives way to the the potential of promises coming true. And like that, we are back at the beginning. We all experience this cycle of hope, lack, and hopefully deeper awareness of self. When the unnecessary fall away and we get to heart of what we really need and want, it expands our terrain of hope. Maybe, it’s not that we dream too big, but that we dream too small because we forget our own capacity to hold. Maybe we have to dream bigger. Maybe we have to realize, our hunger is deep and that makes us even more attentive and active.

Don’t settle.
Want more. Hope for more. Pray for more.
Dare to feel the lack which leads to that magical moment of satisfaction.

Advent: Day 10

December 8, 2021 — Leave a comment

Today’s waiting feels heavy and unfair.
Today’s waiting entices me to compare my life with others.
Today’s waiting makes me want to eat my feelings so I can get to tomorrow and hope IT HAS ARRIVED.
Today’s waiting is really forcing me to be present in each moment.
Today’s waiting made me sensitive to the arrival of the most meaningful gifts that I might not have fully felt if I wasn’t in this present state.
Today’s waiting reminds me that I can rest in my waiting.
Today’s waiting reminds me that maybe this right now is part of what’s to come. It’s already here. I’m sensitive. I’m expectant. I’m hopeful. And it’s all about the ways to build up that hope.

Advent: Day 9

December 6, 2021 — Leave a comment

I emailed on Wednesday. No response. I followed up on Friday. No response. I gave them the weekend and this morning I sent another email, this time with extra vulnerable & heart sauce. Very soon after I got a response in the vein of, these things take time, we haven’t forgotten about you. My immediate reflexive response was, ugh my fault! Sorry!!

But no! One, why didn’t you respond with that to my first and second email? I just wanted to know that you heard me, that you saw my ask. Two, why did I feel like I did something wrong when I was the one with a very reasonable request? Pushing back, standing up for yourself, advocating for your needs feel uncomfortable in a body that has been comfortable with being walked all over. Three, maybe I could have started with the vulnerable and heart space from the beginning, rather than the business/professional tone people around me suggested I use? Where is the sweet spot of integrity, self-advocacy, self-worth and vulnerability? It requires giving the recipient the benefit of the doubt and a deep certainty in one’s own worth.

As I wait for this response or for god, or for my life is change, or for some magic or miracle to bloom, I have to remember that I am worthy to receive, worthy to want, worthy just as I am to have a life that is full. I also have to remember that god is good. God is not forgetful. God didn’t miss your email. God isn’t feeling awkward that you’re asking again and again and again. God is not dangling possibilities in front of us just to taunt us.

God can handle our push, our vulnerability, our belief that we are worthy. God needs us to be all that and do all that. Waiting is exhausting because it requires me to believe it can happen, it will happen, and god has NOT forgotten about me.

Where can you demand a response from God, even if it’s a not yet, or keep on, especially if it’s this?

Where do you need to advocate for yourself as a practice of self-worth?

Where can you sprinkle in vulnerability and heart in your professional and difficult relationships?

Advent: Day 8

December 5, 2021 — Leave a comment

To you who might be…
waiting and eager to make a move, and don’t know what to do
exhausted
excited for the new season and ready, really ready for the next season
joyful and full and want even more
on the edge of faith, a step from throwing in the towel or rediscovering god again
ready to let the wonder and joy take over even though you’ve lost the practice of it
scared and barely remembering to take a moment at a time
ready to own your strength, even if it means you’re the first person to do it
hopeful
ready
waiting —
Here is an album of love, of cheer, of affirmation, of encouragement, of togetherness.

Advent: Day 7

December 4, 2021 — Leave a comment

Just now I realized that I forgot to write yesterday. My stomach sank as I pulled out my phone to do this post on the train. My daily challenge to write every day during advent is imperfect and incomplete.

But who else is keeping track? Is there someone judging me? Yes, I wish I had written yesterday, but what does a hiccup afford me? A reminder to give myself grace. A reminder that imperfect and incomplete are fine, and if I want I can simply get back on task. A reminder that maybe imperfect and incomplete is the closest we will get to wholeness. It’s the attempt at it. It’s the working at it. It’s the laughing and crying I’m trying at it.

You can’t wait perfectly. Sometimes other things in life steer you off course or pull your focus. Those moments give us an opportunity to reevaluate — is the pivot worthwhile to pursue or is the original Hope still the main thing? Waiting is not stagnant. It’s not laying down to sleep hoping things will fall from the sky. It can allow for tasks and inspirations not originally thought of when you started the journey. Waiting can also have it’s sabbath. Maybe that’s what I allowed for myself yesterday.

Where can you forgive yourself for falling short, or where can you realize you actually have not fallen short, and simply have done your best?

Where can you be more imperfect and incomplete because that requires more faith and curiosity?

Be imperfect. Just start. Just continue. Meet you at the finish line.

Advent: Day 5

December 2, 2021 — Leave a comment

What if you’re waiting, and unsure of what exactly you’re waiting for? What if you’re waiting and hoping, with one foot in doubt? What if you’re waiting and praying, with a strong fog of insecurity and imposter?

I’m tired of the self-help, personal development and inner work that says its our disbelief and our own self-sabotage that are the biggest obstacles. I’m tired of the talk about how I’m staying small because I’m the one staying and thinking small. I’m tired of the work and worksheets and workshops that seek to strengthen me not because I don’t think there’s truth, but because it puts so much of the burden on me. I don’t want to put the blame or responsibility on someone else, and I also don’t want the heart of the onus to be on me.

I’m so dang fallible and fragile. Do I need to conjure up enough strength in order to get to the next chapter? I have too many years of trauma and generational chains to unlock. Do I have to wait for my healing to hit to get what’s been waiting for me? I’m not one to wait around for manna to fall from the sky. But I’m also tired of trying and prying and crawling and searching and digging and throwing darts and putting out more feelers and doing and doing and doing and doing. Where does my dependence on god and my personal responsibility meet? Where’s the line between trusting the divine is more powerful than any mistakes and messes I can make, and trusting that I have a part to play in my own journey?

I’m tired of job searching on Craigslist every other month, living hand to mouth, paycheck to paycheck. I’m tired of being held at the mercy of audition notices and avail asks. I’m tired of re-working and re-writing a project that I’m scared will never see the light of day, that I’m desperate for higher help. I’m tired of being single and “opening and re-opening” my heart & my energy & my vibe in hopes that folks will know I’m truly into partnership. I’m tired of suspension. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of watching the world crumble around me due to covid, bad justice at the Supreme Court, climate change, gun violence, hurt people hurting people. I want to make this life count. I want to make this moment count. I want and need god to show me, even just a glimpse, what’s to come.

Advent: Day 4

December 1, 2021 — Leave a comment

There’s a kind of waiting that hurts me the most: seeing those I love in their times of waiting. I want to help and know there is really no way for me to help, but to make space. I want to fix and give them a kidney if it would help, but know that would only harm our relationship. I want to cover them with encouragement, even though they often seem to fall short. I hate seeing those I love, not there yet.

And I have to remind myself, there are so many victories and transformations privately happening that can only happen if I let go of control and let them ride this storm. I have to remind myself, I don’t see the full picture. I have to trust that they are much stronger than I know. I have to trust that god’s got them, and gods ways are bajillion times kinder, wiser, more magical than anything I could conjure up. These moments remind me that I am human and I am not alone in my waiting and they are not alone in their waiting. We wait alone, together.

So here’s to my beautiful life partners — you are doing it and I am cheering you on. You are in the thick of it and if you need a hand, I am here with what you need. I want everything for you while knowing not much of what exactly your heart craves. I am here with you. I am here with you in this valley. I pray for you incessantly, when I rise, when I bathe, when I walk, whenever you pop into my mind. I pray that I don’t get in the way of the magic that is about to come your way. I am sending you hugs and hopes and celebratory arms, because you alive, still going for your dream is full of victory. I’m here, waving at you, throwing my cheesy thumbs up. I know a thing or two about waiting, so hey. We wait together.