Lessons Learned

I became aware of something this last week.

Like, really aware.

I can bear witness without having to accommodate or fix things!

In case that sounds confusing, let me explain.

First of all, bearing witness is something I only recently grasped the concept of.

Bearing witness means exactly what it sounds like- it means we are there, alongside someone or some experience, witnessing and acknowledging what is happening.

But really, it's more than that.  It's being there, and not trying to "fix" things; and not feeding into things.

Often, when we try to fix things for other people, they aren't even asking us to. 

And often, it can actually make them feel less validated, and can put unwanted pressure on the situation.

Up until now (and sometimes even now) I have wanted to fix- or at least accommodate- others in their problems.

My mind will automatically fish out some experience I think is relateable, or will grasp for some piece of advice that I think could help.

I now realize that this is often fear based:

fear of the other person feeling that they aren't seen;

fear that, if the other person's issue isn't fixed, it could leak out and affect me (in my more personal relationships);

fear of absorbing another's suffering;

fear that they will think I'm not listening or don't really care.

And I'm starting to realize that when we approach anything with fear, we often actually get what it is we are trying to avoid.

Like, a personal case of mine: say you don't want your child to internalized a negative dialogue, and then you hear her saying things like "I'm the worst" or "I wish I'd never been born."

That can really freak you out!

The instant reaction (or mine anyway) is to say something like "Don't say that about yourself!  You aren't the worst."  Or maybe "Why would you say that?  Where did you hear that?"

I now realize that what I'm actually trying to do in that situation is control it. 

And in trying to control it, guess what I'm doing? 

Invalidating my child's own feelings.  

Which, in fact, will lead to a negative inner dialogue.

Which, in fact, I don't want.

Kinda funny, huh?  But it's true!  Or, at least, I think it is.

So, now, with this information, I'm trying to do things differently in my household.  I'm trying to allow my child those feelings; and instead of trying to snuff them out, I'm trying to give them space to just be. 

To let her just be.

I may still engage her over these feelings, but it isn't in such a controlling way.

I'll ask "Oh yeah?  What's gotcha feeling like that?" Or I'll say something like, "Yeah, I know that's a bummer.  I've felt that way before, too."

It isn't a perfect dynamic, but I'm trying.

Also, on the other side of this issue, trying to accommodate someone in their negativity/problems by relating to them can be really draining.

This is one that happens a lot to me at work.  And this is where this mantra has been the most liberating for me.

When you work with other people- or, ya know, interact with humans ever- you stand to have some of these interactions be....mmm.... less than ideal.

Not every person is going to think the same as you.

Not every person is going to view the world the same as you.

And, certainly, not every person is even going to be conscious of the fact.

I've begun to realize I'm an accommodater, and that it doesn't serve me well.

To avoid conflict, I'm often "nice" when I really don't need to be.   It tends to lead to situations that could get me into trouble (at my job), or that at least make me feel uncomfortable.

One way that I accommodate is when someone is complaining, and I jump on the complain train.

It's.so.damn.easy.to.do.

I mean, who doesn't have crap they can complain about?

And in certain situations, this makes me feel super* drained.  Then I get anxious about being in those situations because I know how they can make me feel.


*Side note: this is one of those moments where a word suddenly looks really alien to me.  Super.  Super.  Super? Do you see it, too?  Anyway....


But I realized that the only reason it does that to me is because I'm trying to accommodate it.

So now, when I find myself (often naturally and automatically) merging mind streams with someone who is in that place, I will repeat this mantra to myself: "It's ok to just bear witness.  No need to accommodate or fix this."

And it has really helped! 

It hasn't just helped me with my anxiety and stress level, though.  It's also allowed me to see people for who it is they really are.

And in situations where I would normally be internally cowering, I can now almost find humor in these moments.

And I really think it's because I'm able to take off the lens of anxiety and just see it for what it is:

that person is afraid

or

that person is trying to control things

or

that person is having a bad day.....etc....

And I don't even try to make myself a part of it. 

Because I'm not!  And I don't have to be!

And it is just wonderfully liberating!  Haha!

So how about you?  Any lessons you've internalized to your own benefit lately?


P.S.  I just want to give credit where credit is due and post this link to one of the many Dr. Shefali videos I've been watching.

Seriously, I'm a little obsessed right now.  I'm searching out and watching/listening to everything I can find from her.

She has so much wisdom to share about not only our relationships with our children, but also in addressing our own inner child.

So, if you give it a watch, I'd love to know whatcha think about what she has to say.

See ya!

Vain and Vulnerable

Last week I changed my "About Me" photo to this one:

I'm literally laughing at myself because I feel so ridiculous.

I also posted it on my Instagram handle- @clovercatmossycape - with this caption:

There was a time when I took photos of myself ALL the time. I was kinda obsessed with it. Then a switch flipped and it all seemed so silly-posing and making "cute" ducky faces.

So what, then, does a girl do when she finds herself wanting a current and nice photo taken of herself? 

Do it and call herself vain to keep the ego in check-haha! Or maybe as a buffer to the criticism of those who might think I take myself too seriously? 

Yeah, that's probably more accurate.

It really makes me appreciate all of those liberating "I don't have to explain my selfie to you" posts. 

Still, though, I explain. I suppose because I'd rather you think I'm insecure than vain. Because undermining myself is the surest way to get your approval (so say my egoic thought patterns). Just a day in the life of my mind stream. Welcome!

So....How many of you feel totally silly posting a nice picture of yourself sometimes?

So, here's how it happened:

One of my girlfriends was coming over with one of her girlfriends I'd never met before. 

I decided to scrub the house clean, and thus felt pretty grungy. 

What's the quickest way to fix feeling grungy without time to shower?!

MAKE UP!!

And then, I'm all like "Ooh, girl, look at you!  Someone needs to take yo pictcha!" 

With underlying thoughts of how I hardly ever take nice photos- or have them taken- of myself these days; and how it would kinda be nice to have one.

But when I told Melody that I'd like to have my picture taken since I felt like I looked nice.....

Whoa.

It triggered some serious vulnerability in me.

I know this because I continued to say how vain I was; thanking her for appeasing my vanity; saying things like "My vanity* would really like a picture of me with make up on."

*I wouldn't even own it.

It even carried over into the post I made. 

I wanted anything but to have anyone think I thought I looked nice.

Or worse.

That I cared.  I mean it's almost embarrassing to think how hard I coward cowered under this umbrella of self-proclaimed vanity.

It's just different when you ask for it, ya know?

I don't feel this way when someone takes a nice photo of me without my knowing or asking; or when it's a group thing; or when I do it and send it to, like, one good friend.

But I asked for it! (le gasp!)  And I posted it!  ((double gasp!))

I was trying so hard to hide in self-deprecation that it didn't even matter to me how much I was belittling myself. 

I was just so uncomfortable having anyone think that I might care about how I look.

I'm not sure if it was so hard because I was in the presence of someone new, or if it would have been the same had she not been there.

I do know that I apparently have an incongruous bent in how I view what this means to me.

So today,

before I sat down to write,

the thought of it came to me again. 

And I wondered what all the dictionary actually had to say about the word "vain".

Now, just like you, I know what this word means.  I know how to use it. 

But I still think sometimes it is really refreshing to go check the full definition of a word. 

So often we've grown up using language based around the context clues we've picked up on in the word's use, without ever really having to clearly define it.

So I looked it up for clarity, and, as with most words, there were several definitions:

---------------------------------------------------

vain [veyn]

adjective

1. excessively proud of or concerned about one's own appearance, qualities, achievements, etc.; conceited:

2. proceeding from or showing pride in or concern about one's appearance, qualities, etc.; resulting from or displaying vanity :

3. ineffectual or unsuccessful; futile:

4. without real significance, value, or importance; baseless or worthless:

5. Archaic. senseless or foolish.

-----------------------------------------------------

So number 4 really stopped me in my tracks:

 "without real significance, value, or importance; baseless or worthless"

It resonated.  This was the fear.  This was the vulnerability.  This was the lack.

This was once how I felt about showing people my art.  The vulnerability lied in the idea that I may not be taken seriously.  So it'd be best to beat them (anyone) to the chase, right? 

If I put myself down first, then I was at least in control of it.

Until this moment it had never hit me how easy that was to set aside. 

Except, 

truthfully, 

this is still how I operate in regards to anything I might feel insecure about otherwise.

Setting it aside with the art was easier, maybe, because it wasn't as personal.

Now, compared to this, I could really see that!

Or, maybe, these things just come in stages, so that we're not overwhelmed with it all at once.

Either way, it is apparent to me, that, at some point in my life (or a build up over many points?) I have adopted it as truth that I am 

                                               not. 

                                                   worth. 

                                                          being. 

                                                                  seen.

And I know I'm not the only one.  

And as silly as I felt the day that picture was taken, I'm glad it was.  

And I'm glad I posted it.  

Because look at all this damn. glorious. reflection!!

So, in taking a moment to recognize this, I take it as my new challenge to try and never call myself vain again.  

Even if that is how I feel.

Because if what I believe is true, then I am divine and connected to 

All There Is.

And THAT could never be insignificant or worthless.

Maybe Magic is Simple

Is it possible that magic is just really very simple?

That only my lens of expectation has kept me from experiencing it more in my life?

Maybe the magic is simply acknowledging the simple.  Maybe it comes when you really SEE it for what it is.

These were thoughts I had while burning Sage.  Not White Sage-I have none of that.  Just culinary Sage.  What's already here with me.

I'm not trying to clear spirits.  I'm not trying to cleanse auras.  I just really love watching the smoke dance.

And the smell.  It. Is. Divine.

I'm not gonna lie.  I was introduced to burning Sage through some witchy* ways, but at the end of the day, I realize, I just enjoy it.  No broomsticks cauldrons strings attached.

I've even figured out that the smaller, silvery leaves smell best when burned. :D

So I thought that maybe my enjoying the smoke's fragrant dancing WAS the magic.

Or, more so, that my acknowledging that enjoyment

-completely-

was the magic.

Maybe the disappointment only comes when I'm trying to force it.

And then, why?  Because I'm trying to rush it?  Because I'm not allowing myself to slow down?

Probably.

It is definitely true that I am most likely to find it in the moments when I do slow down.  When I take time to notice what's around me.

Or, at least, that's been my experience.

The more I think of it, the more I think that I'm a being that likes to take my time,

and yet,

I don't always let myself do that.

I'm no overachiever.

I'm no fast-paced, serial accomplishment-er.

How do I frame that so that it is a strength?  How do I keep myself from nagging that part of me to do more?  To be more?

How much of the "do more, be more" do I need to listen to?

These are legit things I'm still figuring out.  As far as I can tell, there isn't a map.

And still, to think that even when I'm distracted by trying and grasping and running and going....the magic is still there.....

It feels really liberating!

I mean really.  It's always there!  Waiting to be found.

Just like how all of nature, even if you don't see it, it still sees you, right?!

Man, this thought really excites me!

I'm going to have to remember this the next time I'm down in the dumps....

How about you?  When is it that you really feel the magic?

*A note on the word "witchy": I feel the need to say that, here, the term "witch" may not be what you have conceived of it to be.  My thoughts on the word have far expanded past what they once were.  Needless to say, I don't believe in magic spells, but I do believe in the natural magic that lies in wait all around us.  If you believe in magic spells, I have no judgement for you, I've just never connected with that sort of thing.

Stillness, Struggles, and Snuggles

Coming out of some yoga and meditation I'm still feeling pretty chill.  I'm left thinking thoughts like:

What if I look at my inner struggle as a super power?

What if I always remind myself that I desire expansion?

What if I always let myself have stillness when I need it?

What if I ask myself every day what it is I need to be healthy?

What if I surrender to each moment as it comes, when it feels out of my control?

What if I say 'No' more?

You know, I almost forgot about writing this week.    Then when I thought about it, I thought about skipping it.

Then I let myself have movement and stillness and here I am.

I'm currently excited about the beginning of a new collage.  This one allowed me a lesson in accidental creative limitation-haha!

I laugh because I got really upset when I "fucked up" my central piece.  Let me explain:

She was so perfect!...........then I used the damned wet glue.

Suffice it to say I went through a few improves and panics before I got to a place I felt good about.

 In fact, I kinda think she's the

 flipping shit now!

As you can probably see, she isn't finished nor glued down yet-thus the shadows.  And try not to judge the poor quality cell phone photo here....

I just really don't think I'd thought to put the snake across the face and body had I not "botched it."

Yay for botching it!

So now, going forward with my day, I'm trying to figure how to lean into this gloomy grayness.

Sometimes it soothes me, sometimes it makes me feel cramped.  

Today......it makin' me feel cramped, yo!

But that's ok.  I tried to consider what would expand the day out for me. 

This morning it was some time alone in Flora's tree house.

For this evening I've voted for some healthy snacks (but ones where chocolate chips ARE included), a comforting family movie (probably something of the Studio Ghibli variety), and a good ol' fashioned no-nonsense snuggle with my favorite two peeps.

Anyone else out there like to lean into the cozy on a gray day?  What do you like to do?

A Conversation with Me, Myself, and I (no, really)

What do I need to be healthy today?

This is the question I found myself asking.

It's a question I think I would do well to ask myself every day.

It's a question that has an answer that can and will change.

The question I'm usually asking goes a little something like:

"What would make me feel happy?"

or

"What do I want to do today?"

Want.  Happy.       

or

Need.  Healthy.

I get to choose these things for myself every single day.

Want is something that is always with us.  Was it always?  I mean really?  Like it is today?

Happy is something that feels pretty great, but is illusory to being caught.  It's more of an effect isn't it?  Like, if you set your sights on it alone, it usually doesn't quite work out, right?

It's not that I don't think "want" and "happy" have their place.  I just sometimes find myself overindulging them.

And I think if I would just stop the self-defeating litany that tends to pop into my head when I do, I'd be just fine.

I am just fine.  Yeah.  There we go.  That's better.  It feeeeeeels better, doesn't it?

I need to climb out of this self-constricting box I've created this week this month today.

Like I literally feel like my body just wants to ball in on itself.

I neeeeed expansiveness.

Ahhh.  There it is.  I just had to dig a little.  So how do I get that?

Oddly enough, I feel that the answer is, in its own right, restriction.  Ha!

But not of myself.  Of my choices.  Of my habits.

And that's ok.  It took me long enough to get here.  Ohp.  Did you hear that?

It's that voice again.  It won't let me have this one tiny victory.

No wait, 

I won't let me have this one tiny victory.  Not without some ridicule, it seems.

Apparently I feel the need to bring me down to size.

Isn't it just crazy?!  I mean, I know that that voice is self-defeating!   I know that it isn't going to actually kick my butt into gear like I want it to.

And still I cling to it when I don't trust myself.  And why don't I trust myself?!

Well, duh!  I must have made some bad decisions to get myself back to crazy town, right?

So I must need to beat the crap out of myself to make myself do what is best for me, right?

Le sigh.

I guess all I can really do when I get to this point is just accept it for what it is, yeah?

I mean, I can keep doing ^this ^,

or I can say

"Hold up.  It's ok.  Yeah you said those things to yourself.  Yeah you did those things that aren't really in your best interest.  And it's ok.  You feel like crap?  Yep!  Did you ignore the sign posts-you know, the ones you saw when you first started feeling like crap?  Yep!  Ok!  Now you know."

Doesn't that sound so much nicer?  Doesn't that sound like something you'd say to a friend?

Yeah.  So that's where I am today.

So I'm off to drink more lemon water instead of coffee.  And I'm off to eat apples and pecans instead of handfuls of chocolate chips (yeah you heard me).

And if I play my cards right, I might just get in bed at a decent hour tonight.

Oh sweet restrictions, can ya help a sista out?*

*Neck swivel is included.  You're welcome.

Cornball Genetics

Mark's Granddad passed away this week, and maybe that's why I'm thinking about family and their role in our lives.

I often joke that being a cornball is in my genetics.  I feel like it's true because my dad's one, but he didn't have a big part in raising me.  So it seems more probable that being a cornball was just passed down-haha!

I remember when it hit me.  It was when we made that trip to Texas to see him.

Flora, me, and Lee

(March 2014)

Flora was about 7 months old, and I hadn't visited him there in Texas since I was a teenager.

I'm convinced he doesn't go anywhere without 

that bluetooth in his ear-haha!

There were things I was able to see then, that I couldn't have really seen when I was younger.  Not so much because those things weren't there, but because I was somewhere totally different that time around.

I wasn't told the dad who raised me wasn't my biological father until I was 9.  And when it happened, that dad is the one who told me.

Turns out he'd been scared for some time that someone in my family was going to tell me.  Most likely because the probability of them telling it to me out of spite instead of love was pretty high.

I saw that dad as a hero for most of my life, and I dare say it stemmed from that moment; and I still feel thankful that he kept us away from what would probably have been a much worse fate.

Me with my dad and younger sister, 

Christmas 2017

When my maternal grandparents passed within months of each other, my dad knew what existence would be like for my sister and me if we lived with my mom's family.

My mother was/is barely capable of caring for herself, so there'd be no way we'd live with her.

The next in line would be one of her sisters, I'm sure, but they were both jealous and spiteful that Nanny and Pawpaw had spent more time taking care of us than they had their kids (due largely to the fact that my mom was much more incapable than them of doing so, of course).

The Christmas following my grandparents's deaths they came bearing many gifts (my dad says they were just trying to outdo one another) and a handwritten eviction notice.  (We were all still staying in the trailer where my grandparents had lived, per my grandmother's request).

They didn't want us in there anymore.  Some of them never had wanted us in there in the first place...

So we moved out.  They even helped.

My dad kissed butt until he finally got custody of us (mine being the hardest since I wasn't biologically his), then we never looked back.

It was sometime around then when I first met my biological father.  

I was just going into third grade.  

I was too busy feeling kind of shy and weird to really pay a lot of attention to that visit.  I remember him eating healthy.  I remember pretending to be asleep when he left.

He would later tell me he had come to check things out; to make sure he felt good about my living situation.  Because if he didn't, he was planning to have me come live with him.  In Texas.

After that, he sent all three of us gifts for every major Holiday- my dad and sister included- if that tells you anything about the person he is.

He would call and talk to my dad and me- with me mostly deflecting with silly hyena impressions (I was really into The Lion King). 

When I was a teenager he drove all the way to Alabama and took both my little sister and me to have Thanksgiving with him and his wife, Gloria's, family.  

It's kind of funny, because I think of Gloria as the type of mom I would have liked to have.  

Miss Gloria giving baby Flora sweet kisses.

She is so nurturing and very supportive.  She is the kind that loves with her whole heart.  I sometimes wonder that it was really her that encouraged my dad to reach out to me.  In fact, I'm positive it was.  

That early morning we set out to come home.  

(Hence all the pajama-wearing going on here.)

If it wasn't for this amazing, nurturing, compassionate woman, who knows if my dad and I would have ever talked and/or met?

It took me until I was older to see that I was really appreciative to have him make up a portion of my DNA.  

It was during a time when things felt really unstable, family-wise.  

He felt stable.  And I clung to him from all the way over in Alabama the best way I could.  I called.  A lot.  I cried.  A lot.  I vented.  A lot.

I was so happy that there was this one "not-fucked-up" person in my life.  It was just how I felt then.

It's neat having a life where I can refer to someone as "my other dad."

It's neat knowing they both played really huge roles in getting me through some of my hardest times.

Maybe that's why in Biology 101 it would piss me off to have to choose between Nature vs Nurture.  

I said both.  "That's a blanket answer" is what I got.  

But I kinda felt like choosing was a bit more generic.

I mean, I think it is pretty obvious that every single person is made up of 

endless

moments 

and cells. 

We are all a mixture of whatever experiences we've had being tempered by our genetic coding.

At least, I could see that we are all infinite blends of nature AND nurture.

And I still feel that way.

You know, the cornball thing wasn't the first time it washed over me;

-this thing- 

....that DNA is far-reaching. 

It was this one time, as a teenager, talking to him on the phone.  I discovered we both didn't just like books, but we liked the same kind!

I remember remarking on it a good bit back then.  I suppose I still do.  That it was funny because I had always figured the things people were into were only influenced by what went on around them.

Now the world had expanded to hold the fact that my interests could be genetic(ish).

I have always been drawn to things that make my world feel expanded.  

So has he.

Well, class, that'll be all for today's history lesson-haha!  

So, think on the complex being that you (and all the rest of us) are.

Until next time....

Ask Yourself Why, and Proceed Forward

Shooting from the hip today.  Not sure which way this will go.

I've had tiny sparks here and there this week.  Moments of "Ah, I could write about that."

But truly, there is no overarching theme.

I considered writing about my anxiety crash on Sunday (brought on by too many late nights video-gaming).

I've thought some about energy.

Like I've pondered over how I am pretty sure I believe it's a real deal thing when it comes to people being successful.

Not the sleazy kind of successful, where you climb the ladder no matter how many people you have to step on.  The kind where someone is legit passionate about what they do and they come to be known as the best.

Ok, this is sparking something.  Let's go with this.

So I think that success comes in many boxes and is shaped by the person who is having the experience.

I think when we think of success as only having lots of money or having accomplished big things, we are really reducing our own inner world and all the possible outcomes we could have.

I think, to really become what it is that will make you a success, you need to focus on doing what sparks you, but not the outcome.

I think when you focus on the outcome, you actually diminish the spark.

I think I feel this way because I've done this and I've seen how things change when I shifted my thought process.

If you know me, you know that one of my preferred methods of creating is through collage.

It, at least, is the most meaningful in that it really does feel like I'm putting myself into a thing that I am creating.

A piece of a piece.  This is one of my favorites.  
It's called Transmute.  

This piece came together in under 20 minutes.
(I believe because it was that ready to be born!)

It feels so much like each piece of art is a reflection of a piece of who I am- more specifically, a piece of who I was at the moment of creating it.

I even titled my recent art show "Autobiographica" because it really feels like I am telling a story about myself with these pieces.

When I first started this round of collaging (I've been doing this on and off since I was a teenager), it was very intentionally a practice in following my intuition.

I had felt for some time that there is a small, inner voice that, if we can just learn to listen to, can guide us best in life.

Well, this was a way of starting that practice.  Very non-committal.  And I was revisiting something I had once loved doing.

I decided I'd find one piece that stuck out to me, and base everything else off of that.  It was an amazing feeling!

It felt like some kind of therapy.  It still does!

Then this thought kicked in: "Ooh!  Maybe I could do this for a living.  Maybe this is how I could make money."

Shortly after I made a few muddled pieces.  Or, at least, that's how they feel to me.  And I know it is because my motive wasn't pure anymore.

Now, I didn't really start making pieces with the intention of quitting my job, but it was as if this new pressure had been applied to what was once only pleasure.

Finally I let go of it.  I found a happy balance.  I realized that just because you love doing something, it doesn't have to become your day job.

In fact, sometimes, for that reason alone, it SHOULDN'T!  Haha!

So I kept creating and enjoying it for the process it was.

Finally (and I really do believe it's because I took that pressure off of the art form) I decided I was ready to try to sell some prints on Etsy.

I contacted a friend who works in print making (amongst many other amazing talents) and asked if I could give her my pieces to scan into the digital world.

Well, I met her in town around Christmas, and in February she asked if I wanted to participate in a Birmingham-based event called Art Crawl with her.

This opened up my whole world!  I have yet to get my prints onto Etsy, yet this event was life changing for me.

I went to this event with no expectations, and I actually sold almost everything!

And even more rewarding was being able to talk with people about my pieces- telling them my thoughts and process, and also having them tell me their thoughts.

The best is when someone tells you how one of your pieces makes them feel, or when their interpretation isn't what you put on paper- because it just expands the reality of the piece!

It took me a while to get over feeling egotistical for enjoying what I created.  I mean, really, it's very vulnerable to admit you like your own work if you are worried that others might not.

It was like I thought "What if I take it seriously, and they don't?  Then I can be laughed at, right?"

But something about leaving behind the whole "This art form could provide for me" mindset freed me of that.

Because, then, what did I have to lose?  I am the only approval I really need if this is just for me.

And if it ripples outward and has an effect in the world-awesome!

But it can't be my primary goal.  Not if I'm going to maintain my purity of process.

After the Art Crawl, I was invited for a radio interview (A RADIO INTERVIEW!!!!!)

That felt really huge for me.  Then I was invited to bring my pieces to a fundraiser event.

THEN I was asked if a year would be enough time to get a gallery show ready at my local museum!

Before you start thinking I'm tooting my own horn here, I say all of this because I really don't think all of these things would have happened if my energy had continued to be focused on the outcome.

I mean, a lot of people out there who are the best at what they do-it has become obvious to me that they really and truly have a passion to do it!  That they follow that thing that makes them spark!

And it gives a whole new dimension to those people I can feel embarrassed for.

You know what I mean.

Like when you watch someone perform a song, a dance, or make a piece of art and you just feel embarrassed for them (which, let's just be honest, I think is just us putting ourselves in their shoes and feeling embarrassed for ourselves.)

Now I think it may be possible that that feeling comes from sensing something disingenuous about the whole thing.

I mean, how many of us walk around, day to day, with expectations of ourselves that don't really meet our true identities?

Maybe it's because we want to be a certain image so bad that we force it into being.

Maybe it's because we have been severely misguided.

Maybe we're just trying on different hats until we find the one that fits.

Hell, I've tried on a shit ton of hats.  I still try them on.....

I think more than anything, my thoughts on this subject are stimulating me because it makes me take off labels like "good" and "bad" from these experiences- you know, being embarrassed or being successful.

When you take those labels away, everything e x p a n d s.  And then there is just so much more that can be learned from them!

Each experience we have is just that- an experience.  It can make us feel a number of different ways.

Those feelings, I believe, are part of our intuition.  They are indicators for our path forward.

Something makes you uncomfortable?  Cool, it means don't go in that direction.

Something makes you feel a ZING!  Great!  Follow that!

Just don't get stuck labeling those things as only good or bad.  Ask yourself why, and proceed forward.