I promised someone I would write this letter about a month ago. I haven’t been able to do it. So hear goes:

Although my dad died over two years ago, I recently discovered that I have a little bit of “stuff” left over about our relationship. The bottom line is that I didn’t think he wanted to talk to me.

That translated to “no one REALLY wants to talk to me.” I’ve developed strategies around that. I will talk to different people, careful not to talk too long to any one person. Because I didn’t want to use up my time allotment and become annoying, too much to handle, or just plain TOO MUCH.

I’ve been careful about this. I made up rules: Don’t talk too long to the same person. Only call when I’m in a good mood, etc.

So this woman, Dawn, told me that I could could “complete” this with my dad by writing him a letter. I am kind of afraid but here goes…….

Dear Dad:

I miss you. You were a great dad. I wish I had not been so afraid of you for most of my life. I didn’t like when you criticized me. I didn’t like when you told me what you DIDN’T like about me. It hurt, Dad.

I think you thought you were being funny, but I guess either I didn’t know that or didn’t think it was.

I didn’t wanted to tell you this. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings or have you think I was just a “pain in the ass.”

I just wanted to talk to you. And I didn’t think you wanted to. It seemed like I was just bugging you. So it was better not to try than to be rejected.

OMG I didn’t know this was all there. It’s just like my relationships with men. Trying “not to be a pain in the ass.” Staying quiet. Holding it in. Not asking for what I want because I’m trying not to be told I’m a spoiled brat or “a rotten kid.” Trying to be good and not get insulted or criticized. Trying not to be “high maintenance.”

I really didn’t want to write this letter, Dad. I really didn’t. But I guess it’s a good thing to get this out and let it go. Trying to be good and not speaking up has not gotten me very far. Because that’s not really who I am.

I like to do crazy things and push the limits. I’m not really a good girl in that I am not who I pretend to be. I talk about people and I pretend I like them and sometimes I just don’t. Sometimes I swear and say FUCK YOU!!! I even screamed out of frustration the other day and it felt GREAT.

So, thank you for being a really great Dad. I forgive you for anything I took the wrong way. I forgive myself for not speaking up and for wasting so many years being afraid of you. I knew I could always count on you. You were always there for me.

I know that if we called your office, even if you were with a patient, you took our call. That makes me feel really special. And loved. And dancing with you at my wedding was one of the best moments of my life. And you said, “you know I always loved you, right?” And I looked in your eyes and said “YES.”

Thank you for letting me write this, Dad. I really really miss you.

And I’m giving up pretending to be good. And staying quiet.

I’m going to ask for what I want and speak up – in your honor.

And, I am blessed for having you for my Dad.

Rest in peace.

Sometimes I just don’t write for a while. And anything I think of writing sounds like it’s just really stupid. So I don’t.

In order to break that, I am simply sitting at the computer and seeing what comes out.

I’m sitting by the large window that overlooks my deck and the water. I am mesmerized by the waves. They are pretty big for the Long Island Sound. In Westport, we never had big waves, but here, in Stratford, they can get big, especially during a storm.

It’s amazing that these waves and the ocean are made up of little drops. I can’t even imagine that. I guess we are made up of cells. It’s kind of weird to think about. That we are just cells………………

Anyway, ………today I was on a “sharing” webinar. Tobin, the moderator, told us that until we share, we are just made up of characteristics. I know for myself, until I open my mouth to share, I am just an observer. Not a participant.

Today, although I raised my electronic hand, I did not get called on. I feel separate from the rest of them. Tomorrow I will raise my hand early, even if I don’t know what to say.

Our homework is to share. I am going to go down to my mother’s house since my sister is there. Historically I don’t tell her that much because I “don’t want to hear it.”

That means, I expect her to be negative and “burst my bubble” or “steal my dream.” I keep it safe with her so I “don’t have to hear her opinion.” And, it’s not just with her. It’s anyone that I think is negative, opinionated, small-minded or sarcastic.

Which means that I am stingy and safe with these people. Not willing to risk being criticized or made fun of. And, it doesn’t work anyway. They still have their opinions, regardless.

Since I have created a win/win world her opinion or comments shouldn’t matter. Before it was if she was right I was wrong. I had to fight and defend myself or my identify would cease to exist. It was a matter of survival.

Now I can just say, “wow, how interesting, why do you say that?” And see what she says. At least in theory.

It should be an interesting night is all I can say. I will practice living in a world community where we all love each other, are perfect the way we are, and it’s a win/win world. Today I am listening for Spirit and Fun.

Wish me luck.

“Do you want the chicken?” my mom asked for the fourth time. Mark was coming up to help me with a work project and in return I was going to help him download his tax information. My mother, who always wants to feed us, wanted to know what food she could send me via Mark.

Even though I have my own food, and I really don’t need anything, I know it makes her happy to give me something. I told her I would take some lettuce. But I really didn’t need the chicken.

“Mom, I don’t want the chicken. You’ve asked me that four times. What is going on?”

“Well, I’m distracted. The weather just came on. I’m watching the weather so I guess I’m not listening to your answer.”

“Well, if you’re so distracted, how do you keep asking me questions?”

“I don’t know, I just do. It’s what I do.”

“Well, does it matter what I answer? Should I just ignore you?”

“No, don’t ignore me. I want to know if you want the chicken.”

“OK, I don’t want it. I just don’t understand why you keep asking me. I don’t know how to have patience so I’m trying to understand what you actually want from me.”

“I want to know if you want the chicken.”

“I SAID NO.”

She hung up on me. She never hangs up on me. I called her back.

“Mom, I’m just trying to understand why you keep asking so I don’t get impatient. Do you really need me to answer you each time? Are you listening? I’m really trying here.”

“Yes, answer me each time. That would be good. Do you want the chicken?”

“Ummmmm, let me see. No. I don’t need the chicken. I have some at home. But thanks.”

“OK, what was I going to give Mark?”

“The lettuce.”

I’m going to try to answer the questions as if she hasn’t already asked me. I’ll see if I can be more patient.

It am sad that she can’t remember but I think it’s more that she’s so distracted she doesn’t focus on my answer. I don’t remember a lot of things these days so I kind of get it.

The difference is that not only does she not remember my answer, she doesn’t remember that she already asked the question. Over and over and over.

So, again, I will try. As an act of love. As an act of compassion.

And if I stop thinking it shouldn’t be this way and should be different, I probably wouldn’t be so frustrated. That would probably help. This is the way it is right now. And I am lucky to have her.

And I can have compassion for myself as well.

Thanks for listening. I’ll keep you posted.

Last night I couldn’t sleep. I was really upset. All I wanted to do was cancel everything I was supposed to do and run away.

I had tried to get into communication with a couple of people yesterday to see if I could get unjammed, but my attempts just made it worse.

I was done. No where to go. No safe place. I shouldn’t be this way and no one could handle me were in full force AND SEEMED REAL.

I saw Virginia on my caller ID this morning.

“Thank God,” I said. “Can you just listen? I’m a mess.” The tears started flowing just hearing her voice. I sniffled.

“Sure,” she said.

I talked. I cried. I was a jumbled up mess until I got to a comment one of my coworkers made. Then the floodgates opened as I tried to get out her words.

“I know you have YOUR numbers to hit,” she said. “But I don’t care. I just don’t. I’m sorry. I DON’T CARE!”

Her tone was like a stab in the heart. I was stunned. I didn’t speak at the time.

But, today, I felt a release as the damn of emotions finally broke. I have helped this woman, paid her a great deal for just doing her job, listened to her complain for hours, and thought we were working as partners. Her comment hurt. And I didn’t say anything.

Virginia was great. She just listened. I kept going.

“And I have two weeks to hit my numbers at work and if I don’t, it will cost me $20,000 at the end of the year. And it feels like a lot of pressure, because having an extra $20,000 is really nice. It gives me lot of options.”

I’m stopping to think as I write. Maybe I can generate $20,000 another way. Maybe I’m not supposed to do it this way. Yesterday I had a meeting about a new way to generate income. Maybe I don’t need to feel like I’m stuck and this job is the only way.

Letting out what was going on to Virginia was really freeing. I just got to be my upset, nose blowing, self.

Then I got to talk to Joyce. She also just listened. When I was done, she told me what she does when she’s jammed up (my words, not hers). She takes out her journal and just writes for 30 minutes. When she’s done, she sorts out the doing stuff and decides what she will actually do in the next few days. She puts the rest aside.

“Anything else?”she asked.

“I’m tired of my job,” I said.

“Well, usually people are tired when they are resisting something,” she said “You’re not ACTUALLY tired, you’re tired in your head thinking about it.”

OK, good to know. I got on the phones and set up my new person to do what she needs to do without me. I need to train her to “do the numbers.” That doesn’t mean I have to do all of it with her. Very freeing.

I’m back in communication and sorting through the “guck” so I can get to freedom again. I have taken on listening from “compassion” today. Mostly for myself. I will do the Joyce thing tomorrow when I have some time and I feel better getting back on my blog.

It also helps me sort thing out.

Thanks for listening as always. Have a great day!!!

I tried writing when I was stuck in my bullshit over the past week. I didn’t like it. Just now I moved it to drafts. But this is what I will tell you:

Yesterday I was filling in for my group leader on a phone call for my seminar. I jumped in as soon as she asked for sharing. I couldn’t stand where I was at and figured I would use the call to get unstuck.

“I’m just stuck. I don’t feel safe talking. It feels dangerous. I don’t know what to do,” I said.

“Why don’t you stop indulging that same conversation? The one about danger and being unsafe?” my seminar leader, Shereen asked.

I was offended. This was real for me. How dare she suggest that?

“It’s boring. It’s the same thing over and over again. It’s never going to stop. You can just stop indulging it,” Shereen continued.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said.

“That confusion and being stuck is more of the same conversation,” she said looking at me. We were on a zoom call so we could see each other. I felt like sticking my tongue out at her.

“I am resisting this,” I said.

“Well, you want to look at why. It’s probably more of the same thing.” She moved on to let some more people share. I could see this wasn’t a personal attack. They all had their own version of the same thing that they were “indulging.”

Why was I resisting this?

I kept looking. It just seemed that if I stopped indulging all this, my whole life would be invalidated.

But I could see that that’s only if it’s a win/lose world. If someone else is right and that means I am wrong, then I’ve got to fight for my identify to survive. I can’t allow them to be right.

But if it’s a win/win world, then they can say whatever they want. It doesn’t matter. I’m not in danger. There’s no fear of getting hurt or thinking that my story about myself is not true. My story doesn’t exist there. I can’t lose.

“You’re uncomfortable in your normal thought patterns, anyway, even though they don’t give you the life you really want to create. Why not take an action, even though it’s uncomfortable, which will make a difference for you? It’s the same feeling of discomfort either way. But one moves you forward, and one keeps you where you’re at,” Sherene added. “Just take an action that makes a difference,” she repeated. “How can it hurt?”

Why don’t I? I asked myself. Good question.

I spent yesterday in my house with a cold. I kept thinking about the call. Gradually, my stuckness disappeared. I felt freer than I had in a while. Rather than indulge my to do list like I normally would, I read books, rested and relaxed. I took care of myself. That was a new feeling.

Today, I contacted two people who I had been suffering about because they had not gotten back to me. I asked them for an update and received one from both. I felt great.

Then I called Robyn, from SoulWorks, to continue a discussion we had started and forgotten from three months ago. We had a great conversation.

Even though I’m still recovering from what is now a sinus infection, I had a
non-indulgent” day. I got going in several areas where I was stopped because I “didn’t know what to do.”

I scheduled a conversation with someone who might work on my book with me.

I’m going to meet with someone who can help me with the title and cover.

I’m partnering with Robyn in creating speaking engagements.

I worked up my breakout session for my new relationship developmental course and submitted it to my reviewer.

I scheduled a time to go over my poster for the conference for global transformation with that reviewer.

I’m writing a blog entry.

And, I finished my taxes and sent them to my accountant. That’s amazing.

And I’m no longer feeling stuck. That might be the name of my book, “Getting Unstuck.” Or, not. Who knows? The good thing is I’m not worrying about it. I’m trusting the process and the universe.

And that is all very new. And I’m happy to be back in action.

Have a great night.

Yesterday morning my boss called me at 7:00 AM. I was in the middle of my workout at the gym. He asked if I could check the rates he was going to present at our big presentation at 9:15.

I said ok. I got off my elliptical. I looked in my bag for my keys so I could get my computer out of the car.

“Oh shit,” I thought. My keys were’t there. I must have locked them in my locker.

I asked the gym staff for help. I tried to stay calm as the trainer couldn’t cut the lock off. I ran to my guy friends to see if they had any tools in their truck that might work. No one did.

Thankfully, the gym staff was able to break the locker so I could get out my keys and clothes. I did what I needed for my boss and finished my workout.

Looking back, I was really lucky. If my boss hadn’t called, I wouldn’t have known I didn’t have my keys and by the time I found out, I would have been panicked, unable to get dressed and get to my meeting on time.

And there’s another reason. The lock was one of the last reminders of an old romance. I’ll call him S. Our plans were to move in together. S bought furniture ahead of time and we needed to store it. I bought the lock for the storage unit.

We didn’t end up moving in together and the relationship ended very badly.

And every time I used that lock at the gym, it was a teeny little stab in my heart. The reminder made it difficult to really put that relationship in the past.

Coincidentally, this person happened to be at the gym yesterday. The last time I saw him I tried to talk to him. Instead of the guy I once adored, he seemed like an angry stranger who preferred to be alone.

Yesterday, I left him alone.

As much as I wished we could talk like we used to, I remembered how disappointed I was the last time. And I honored myself and my worth instead and stayed away.

I am proud of myself. I am free. A little sad, but finally ready to move on.

And no more lock to remind me of the past. Onward to new people, new friends and an open future of possibility.

I met a work contact tonight for a drink. I like the guy. He is very nice, but he was sort of” complaining about his wife. I was surprised. I’m sure he loves her, they have two beautiful boys, but……his speaking about her sort of had me conjure up this blog. If you’re offended, please stop here and don’t read further.

I’m thinking that maybe I don’t remember my marriage vows. Maybe this is what they were instead:

I promise to complain about this person for the rest of my life.

I promise not to speak up and to be victimized by what he/she isn’t doing even though I never asked them to.

I promise to act as if my life would be so much better if this person did x or why.

I promise to act as if I knew I couldn’t have the life I REALLY wanted.

I promise to make a face and ridicule my spouse in front of other people.

I promise to insult my spouse to look good in front of my family.

I promise to criticize my spouse if he/she doesn’t do things the way we did it growing up.

I promise to compare my spouse to my fantasy person so that he/she comes up short and I can suffer.

I promise to make sure my kids know that I am the good parent.

I promise to make sure the kids are on MY SIDE.

I promise to make sure everyone knows it’s his fault and I am an innocent bystander.

I promise to make sure that I am the victim and they don’t blame me for what I did.

These are just some of the things I came up with. I’m not proud of the ones that represent me, but, you don’t know which ones they are, do you? This is probably my most cynical blog, but unfortunately, some of it rings pretty true for me.

Either enjoy it or indite it.

I’ve been hearing a lot about this word. From all different places.

And then I hear what’s in the way of people being authentic.

“I cant’ say that!”

“I won’t say that!”

“Oh no, I would NEVER say that.”

“I tried it once, and I’ll NEVER do it again.”

And on and on.

Why can’t people be their real selves and say what’s there to say?

Good question and one I’ve been looking at for a while. There are so many ways to answer it and right now I’ll just give you an example:

I was talking to my ex about saying what can’t be said. His answer was:

“When I told you you weren’t my type, that didn’t work out very well. I am not going to try that again. Forget it.”

Well, duh. Because I got upset. Wouldn’t you if your wedding was three days away and your groom to be told you you weren’t his type?

I was triggered as you can probably imagine. But I can see now that IF we could have really worked through the conversation until we were both understanding where the other person was coming from, we could have figured out whether we should have gotten married at all. But we didn’t. I thought he was just nervous and glossed over this red flag and he decided never to be honest again.

If we could have discussed his comment, we might have understood each other better, not gotten married, or had a different marriage and not gotten divorced. Instead of 20 years of resentment, shame, and disappointment on my part.

I have been experimenting with this kind of communication lately. It does not always go well at first. It is not easy. It is not fun. It is not necessarily enjoyable. But if you can get to the other side, love and affinity are waiting.

I don’t think this kind of communication is common. And I am sure that neither of us were aware of or capable of it back then.

All I know now is, I’m sure willing to try it. It’s a hell of a lot better than making myself wrong and resenting the other person for years. It’s a temporary discomfort instead of a long term separateness.

More as I discover……………………………..Hope this made sense. Good night.

I promised to “say something new” today. And have the people in my life create something new for themselves for their life.

And I find myself mad.

I’m mad because my son isn’t listening to me. And because the person I am meeting is late.

I think I get mad when I feel like I’m the ass hole.

And I feel like the ass hole when I feel like a jerk.

When do I feel like a jerk?

When I feel like I don’t matter. Irrelevant. I’m making it up just like when I’m hurt or embarrassed. It’s in my paradigm of I shouldn’t be the way I am. Because if I was, they:

• would be listening
• wouldn’t be late
• would understand what I’m talking about
• would buy AFLAC
• would come to my women’s empowerment event
• would be excited about WHATEVER I want them to be

So, isn’t that interesting? Basically everything triggers that paradigm. I get mad and frustrated and don’t want to play. I want to get even. I want them to be wrong. I want them to PAY!!!!!

But if the world was really one big loving community and everyone was perfect exactly the way they were, then none of this would be personal. I am perfect and they are perfect.

So, can I give it up and say something new? My first thought is I DON’T WANT TO!! I’d rather just be mad.

But, truthfully, mad is getting old and not really fun. It’s lonely and lacks connection.

So, I can say that I can tell the woman coming to meet me how happy I am to see her and thank her for all of her referrals.

And I can create something with my son instead of living in fear and judgement. I can give up that I know better and trust him to learn from his experiences (I didn’t say mistakes but I wanted to!!!).

And I can trust that Mark will find his way. I can honor my sadness but trust that this is his path. It’s not my problem and I don’t have to fix either of my boys.

And I can have fun with my mom. That’s all she wants. She wants to laugh and talk and be happy. Not such a bad thing.

So, I will say something new and Create today. And I’m giving up that I don’t know how and don’t have time.

Here she is. Gotta go!!!

I was on an extra Zoom session of my Sex and Intimacy seminar today. We have been looking at what we say about sex. One question is “what is wrong with sex?” We are to answer authentially, not what we THINK we should say in order to “look good.”

The first word I put down about what is wrong with sex is “Dangerous.” Well of course it is. My sister told me in high school not to do it. I could get pregnant. Guys wouldn’t respect me. I’d be labelled as a slut.

Then when AIDS came in the 80’s it really got dangerous. You could actually die from having sex and getting infected.

It’s not to say I didn’t have sex, but having it fit into another one of mine paradigms – I do stupid things. I’m gullible. I’m impulsive and I have proof. I bought my father two really stupid gifts growing up. In second grade I was too naive to know that the clay face I made my dad was phallic. The nose was really long and apparently could be construed as a penis with a hard on. How did I know at that age? It still embarrasses me to think about it. I saw my father’s friends make a face and decided they were laughing at my stupidity.

And the next was a sign I had made for my dad that I thought was really funny. It was a beautiful sign – It said Dr. Ernest I Arnow, DDS. If I had stopped there, it would have been usable. But for some reason, I wanted to make a play on words – I added “Doesn’t Do Shit” for the DDS. The sign maker tried to talk me out of it, but for some reason, I thought it was cute.

It wasn’t. My father could never use it. Every time I saw it on the floor of his bedroom, it reminded me of the stupid thing I did. I am still embarrassed today at my lack of judgment.

So what does that have to do with sex being dangerous? Good question. Let me think about it.

I guess it’s the old I can’t trust myself. I make the wrong choices and end up being hurt or embarrassed for being naive and thinking something was funny that wasn’t.

Shereen, my seminar leader, suggested that I consider that I live in a paradigm of being hurt. We can’t actually be hurt, she said. Someone might say something or do something, but there is no actual hurt in the world. Just like there is no embarrassment, I guess. I just add those things to my interpretation.

And then I get afraid to be hurt or embarrassed again. I protect myself or wait to be hurt. I set myself up to replay my driveway incident over and over again.

So how do I get free of this? Not by trying to get rid of “hurt.” That just makes it into “not hurt.” I’ve got to create a whole new paradigm.

And I don’t know how. All I can do is notice it for now I guess. Because anything else I want to create is to not have “hurt.” Protect myself, be smarter, make better choices, be more aware, speak up more.

All of that is in order to not get hurt. If I create that the world is safe, I think that’s still about not getting hurt. I’m not sure.

What would life be like if I couldn’t get hurt by what people say? What if they could say anything and it wouldn’t affect me? What if the world is one big community where everyone loves each other. Is that still fixing the hurt? I don’t know.

What if we are all perfect and can live our authentic selves? And everyone finds a perfect partner where they connect on all three chakras – heart, head and body.

That would be a cool world. You just keep looking until you find the perfect person for you. No settling. No fear. Abundance and love and connection and peace and intimacy. Trust and safety (oops that’s because otherwise you are in danger – scratch that one).

I wouldn’t have to be afraid of hurting people’s feelings. I wouldn’t be afraid of saying no. I could talk to everyone. I might relate or be interested in some more than others. That’s not a problem.

Well, I have no idea if I’m on the right path, but at least I am in an inquiry instead of just being confused and annoyed that I can’t figure it out. We are only in our fourth session of a ten session seminar so I know there is more to come. Guess I’ll just have to be patient.

Thanks for listening. Have a great Sunday!!!!