Turn off the radio in your mind.

Tonight, I taught my son (WHO TURNED FIVE TODAY, I MIGHT ADD, WHAT??!) a visualization which I do quite often myself, and which I thought I'd share.

We were snuggling in his bed reading a book at bedtime, and I could just tell, because I'm the mom, that his brain was going a thousand miles an hour; his body wasn't far behind -- feet rubbing together, fidgeting fingers, and when I asked if he felt like his body was very busy right now, too, he thought for a second and said, "No," while twirling both hands through his hair.

I used my Calming Voice and asked him to still his body, starting with his feet, then his legs, now his hands and arms, and then I asked him to listen to his thoughts for a moment, to see if he heard any. "What kinds of thoughts?" he asked. "Oh, any kinds of thoughts," I answered, and explained that we think a lot, and that sometimes, you have so many thoughts playing in your head that it gets very loud and distracting in there, and makes it hard to focus on the thoughts you want to focus on. So I asked him again if he heard any thoughts in his mind, and he said, "Yeah. A lot."

We talked a little bit about how the thoughts come from us, so we can learn to control them if we want to -- if we're having thoughts we don't like, we can get rid of them and think different thoughts. And if our thoughts get too loud and distracting, we can quiet them.

"Imagine," I told him, still using my Calming Voice, "that all these thoughts you're hearing are coming out of a radio. Are all your thoughts coming out of the radio now?" "Yeah," he said, and I could already see his mind stilling. "Now," I said, "imagine yourself reaching out to the radio, and turning the volume down." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Are your thoughts quieter now?" "Yeah," he whispered back.

"Now," I said, "imagine yourself reaching over to the radio, turning it down alllll the way, and then switching it off." He reached out into nothingness with his skinny little 5-year-old hands, and mimicked this. I grinned, and told him that he can imagine doing it, in his mind, without even having to move your body. "Now, your radio's off. Your thoughts are quiet. You can't hear any more thoughts. It's quiet inside."

"My radio turned back on," he said.

"That's okay," I told him. "Mine does a lot, too. But you know what? It's your radio, with your thoughts, in your mind. You can reach over and turn it off again."

"I think I have a hundred radios," he told me. I replied, "Well, that's no problem. It's your imagination. If you want to, you can imagine a remote control that can turn off all the radios at once." "All at the same time??" "Yep." I saw him imagine this. "Now it's quiet. Now we're calm," I said.

Three minutes later, he was snoring, and I kissed his birthday-forehead goodnight, and quietly left the room.

This radio visualization? I use it all the time, when I catch myself getting too caught up in my own thoughts to notice anything in the world around me. It's faster for me now -- just a quick flash of my radio, and my hand turning the knob all the way down to Off. It may only last for three seconds, but that's a pretty calm three seconds.

Try this sometime, and let me know how it works for you :).

I'm curious, too -- what does your mental radio look like? Mine looks like the old-fashioned radio used before TV was invented -- the type the family listened to Little Orphan Annie on in A Christmas Story. The little guy said his was green. What's yours?

Feelings as habits.

I remember reading something, or watching something, or in some other way learning something from somewhere (perhaps various somewheres; I am obviously vague on details here), about how feelings, and the chemicals your brain produces because of these feelings, can be addictive. Basically, the more you feel a certain way and then continue to feel a certain way, the more your brain and body get used to the chemicals being produced by those feelings, and wants to produce more of them.

I'm a big proponent of the awareness that you can choose how you want to respond to something, even choose how you want to feel about it, and make that happen. It's a pretty cool awareness thing once you get some practice at it. But what if your brain is so used to you feeling a certain way that once you no longer need to, your brain isn't sure what to do with that?

Let's say you're habitually angry due to stressful or unfair work conditions, and then you get a fabulous new job in a fabulous new place and everything is fabulous... but you're still angry, about nothing in particular, just because that's what you're used to feeling? Or you are habitually depressed, sad, or bored, and then you do a lot of work on personal growth and suddenly feel very good about yourself with plenty of things to do that you enjoy... but if there's the slightest trigger, you're right back into being depressed, sad or bored again, just because that's where your feelings, your mood, your brain, are used to going?

Of course, I also fully believe that both choice and your brain's chemical dependency on itself can work together. Once you realize that you do have the choice, that you do not have to feel any way you don't want to feel just because you do feel that way right now, you can retrain yourself -- your thought habits, your "default mode" as I've heard clients describe it -- to switch gears and feel something you'd rather be feeling. And then guess what happens: over time, you get used to feeling that way, your brain gets used to the new combination of chemicals it's producing, and you have a new "default mode."

So basically, you can teach yourself the habit of happy. How cool is that?

(And, hey, you know something that life, personal growth and empowerment coaches are good for? Helping you gain awareness of your habits, decide what you'd rather be doing instead, and get yourself there. For more information about coaching, you can visit my website, Life Spiraling Forward, and/or Like me on facebook. Because really, empowering yourself to choose who and how you want to be, is pretty awesome.)

It'll be fun next time.

Sometimes, having coaching skills is awesome when you're a mommy.

Admittedly sometimes I feel like That Mom when I talk about this... mostly when my coaching school, iPEC Coaching, will post something on facebook asking something along the lines of, "When was the last time you used X coaching skill?" and I'll chime in, "Yesterday, with my 4 year old!" But I did. Because it's awesome. I'm teaching my pre-K things that I've seen adults have a hard time figuring out; then again, adults have to re-learn and break existing thought habits, while my 4yo is just now forming those thought habits himself.

For example: We were at the park one day playing on the big-kid equipment after fattening up some of the geese nearby, and the pole. Oh, that pole. It was out to get him. He'd worked with Daddy the time before, learning how to reach out and grab it, then jump and wrap his legs around to slide down. It was scary, but with Daddy's help, he was brave and went down the pole by himself! Once. And then he remembered that it was scary, which is what carried over for him during this visit. The pole is scary. He was scared. I tried cheering him on but frankly, I'm not Daddy, and Mommy cheering never has quite the same effect as Daddy cheering (just like Daddy's bedtime songs aren't quite as good as Mommy's).

Several minutes were filled with a back-and-forth of "I'm too scared!" and "You can do it! Just count to three and jump!" before we finally decided that it was okay, we would try again next time.

As we started walking home, the 4yo was repeating to himself, "I was just too scared. That was so scary. The pole was too scary. I was really scared." So I told him, "Raiden, what you're doing right now is called psyching yourself out. Do you know what that means?" Of course he didn't. "Psyching yourself out means that you're telling yourself that it's scary so much that you're making it even scarier for yourself. The more you tell yourself 'it's too scary!' the more you'll believe it!" I think he said something along the lines of, "Oh." I went on, "But, did you know that you have the power to change your own thoughts?" "I do?" "Yes, you do! You can choose to stop saying it's too scary, and start saying that you can do it! Can you say, 'It'll be fun next time'?" If there were a way to articulate a whiny tone through text, I would do it, but since I can't particularly think of one, I will simply tell you that in a whiny tone and with a slouchy stance, my child did, in fact, repeat, "It'll be fun next time..."

Still, I cheered him on. "There you go! The more you say it the more you'll believe it! Can you say it again?" With a similar whine and slouch, he repeated, "It'll be fun next time..." I cheered him on some more, and after a dozen or so more times (because what four year old doesn't love to repeat himself and repeat himself and repeat himself and repeat himself and...), it became enthusiastic.

So the next time we went to the park, do you think he was able to go down the pole? Well, no. It was still scary. Because, let's face it, he's four, and that's a big jump for a 4yo. But he also did not stand there telling himself how scary it was. He tried, he just couldn't do it, and he told himself, "It'll be fun next time."

Since then, he has asked me a couple of times in similar situations, "Am I psyching myself out?" If I confirm that yes, he is (and comment that it was very big of him to recognize that), he'll stop and change his phrasing to how fun it might be next time. And that's way better than sliding down a pole.

As within, so without. Or vice versa. Or...

As you may or may not know, we have moved into our new house (which previously belonged to my late grandparents-in-law), but still haven't sold the old one.

I've gone through a lot of different emotions over the old house being on the market and moving to the new one over the past three years (three. years.) that the plan has been in the works, mostly stagnant. It started out, "But I love this house and I wanted to stay here forever and I don't like the new house because it's boring and this one has character and I don't want to get rid of it... but it's very financially responsible to do so;" morphed somewhere along the line to, "Okay, it'll be all right, we've given this house all we can and now it's time for someone else to take care of it," with visualizations of the perfect new owner and how much the new person would love the house and fix it up and do all the things for it that we just weren't able to do; and eventually became, "I'm done being in limbo. I'm mad at you, house. You need to sell now. We're outta here. See, now you'll be alone because you didn't attract a new owner," and my wish for the Universe has gone from a visualization of the perfect owner to something more like, "Okay, Universe, just find someone else to make the house payment. Don't care how. Make it happen."

It hasn't yet, but that's not where I'm going with this. What I'm getting at is: I am currently in charge of mowing two lawns instead of one, and due to the "doneness" I have come to with the old house, it's something I kind of roll my eyes at and say FINE and do it but I'm not happy about it.

The last time I was mowing the lawn at the old house, I realized about halfway through that even though I am frustrated and, okay, I'll admit it, a little resentful that I still have to take responsibility for the lawn at a house I would like to be done with, that the actual process of mowing the lawn itself was very comfortable and familiar. I know the spots where I need to go slower to get through the thick patches; I know the areas where I can go faster due to the grass being thinner and drier; I know that if I angle the mower just right over the curb we don't have to use the weed-eater as often; this is the spot where I'll just backtrack a few short rows to even it out into the longer rows in a minute; mowing the area between the sidewalk and the road as part of the bigger yard rather than its own section makes it feel more doable and less long and horrible. It's very familiar, and even still slightly enjoyable to find a new, better, more efficient pattern to follow to let the job feel like it's getting done faster.

Even though I am tired of having to do it.

And as tends to happen, being the type of person who tends to think about the things I'm thinking about, I thought bigger. I know that "thought is cause" and that "as within, so without" and in general, that what is in your mind creates the world around you. So I wondered: what's in my mind (within) that is creating a situation in which mowing the yard is still comfortable and familiar yet the house it belongs to won't sell (without)? What else could be going on in my mind in which I am feeling comfortable with something I would rather like to get rid of? (Oh, as soon as I asked myself that, I thought of about a dozen possible responses.) And as such: what do I need to resolve within myself, to allow something different to be manifested outwardly?

What about you? What frustrations do you have in your life right now, that you would like to see change, shift, disappear, or evolve in some way? What qualities does that situation have? What other mental conflict could be similar to that situation? And how ready are you to change it within yourself?

The cool thing is, even if resolving something within yourself doesn't result in the outward change you would like to see manifested, you still grew, and something even better may come of that.

Once in a lifetime.

I'm sure most of you have heard or read about the tornado that destroyed most of Joplin, MO, this past weekend. That's only about 45 minutes away from where we live, though we were lucky enough only to get some wind and rain. And some beautiful skies.

After the rain had passed us by and the sky was absolutely beautiful, I was doing laundry while my husband was in the living room, keeping an eye on the news to see what was happening in Joplin, and yelling in my direction occasionally about how I needed to come look at the sky; it was changing every second, and I was missing it, he said. "This is a once in a lifetime sky!"

It occurred to me that every sky is a once in a lifetime sky. Never again will we see that exact color scheme with those exact cloud patterns laying on top of it. And I wondered, why don't we stop to appreciate every once in a lifetime sky?

As tends to happen, my thoughts broadened. Not only is every sky a once in a lifetime sky, but every moment is a once in a lifetime moment. Never again will we be at this exact place in this exact moment being exactly who we are right now; we are ever-changing, the world is ever-changing.

How many beautiful moments do we pass by in our lives because there's something to distract us from it? Or because something boring or aggravating or terrible is still on our mind from a moment previous? Or because we're in a hurry to get to the next moment?

What would it take to pause and find the beauty in every moment, the way we can pause and find the beauty in an orange and blue sky with a double-rainbow after a devastating storm?

I challenge you to stop, once, in the middle of your day -- especially if it's a busy day -- and find something once-in-a-lifetime around you, or within you.

Identity.

Given my current job situation (the situation being that soon, I will no longer have my job), I've noticed that as a result, I've started shifting my identity into something different. For years (eleven of them) I've been The Webmaster, and I've never really liked it. I always felt the need to say that I was The Webmaster but don't blame me, it was like that when I got here and I intend to fix it, or The Webmaster but no I will not do your fluffy puppy website in my spare time, or The Webmaster but I'm not a computer geek, I'm an "artist" and the Internet is my canvas. Anytime I would identify myself as The Webmaster, I would sort of cringe on the inside. That's not who I am. I'm not that stereotype. It's my job, but it's not me.

In five weeks, I will no longer be The Webmaster. How amazing is that??

For several weeks while this knowledge was settling into my mind, I became The Webmaster but not for much longer. The past couple of weeks now I have caught myself casually shifting into The Life Coach. EEEEE!

I'll admit it, there's some fear and hesitation around that. What if people don't know what that is? What if I have to answer questions? What if they think it's nuts or think I'm crazy or pat me on the head like oh, of course you are dear, that's so cute, like it's a fake job and not something real or understandable my mainstream societal standards? But you know what? That's good practice for me to get better at explaining what coaching is, what I do. And you know what else? I don't cringe when I say it; I smile.

It's funny how in today's society one of our favorite questions is "So, what do you do?" Our jobs somehow define us, and there are all these beliefs floating around about What You Do being Who You Are.

I've seen this cross over into way more than just the job arena, too; I frequently call my clients on listing "doings" when I ask them "being" questions.

The cool thing about coaching is, it's both. It's a way of being, and it's what I do.

So if you could be whoever you choose to be, what would you be doing? How would you identify yourself in a way that would make you smile?

Disciplining your inner four year old.

Part of being a mom is figuring out what method of discipline works best for your kids. Every kid is different (and I know I will learn this even more clearly if/when there is a #2). Things that work for some kids don't work for other kids. Things that work for your kid might not work for your kid next week. Things that work for your kid may not work for you. It's a constant act of trial and error, assessment, reassessment, giving up for a while and just hoping they'll be good no matter what, realizing no matter how well you're handling things they might still just be a holy terror for a while, wondering if their recent diet of grilled cheese and popsicles may be a factor, and trial and error again.

The same can be said for ourselves. I know I'm grumpy when I have too many pastries.

While I was rearranging the 4 year old's star chart recently, the thought occurred to me: if I were parenting my own inner 4 year old, what would I put on my star chart?

This of course led to tangent thoughts: What reward would I want to earn with my stars? What if it weren't just about a star chart and I were constantly parenting my inner child?

When our kids ask us for, say, an extra cookie, or another new toy even though he just got a new toy (because Daddy really wanted the new toy, too), when is the answer yes, and when is the answer no? How do you explain to your kid why this time it's okay, but next time it may not be? And, what occurred to me this morning, when your kid yells at you and demands that extra cookie or new toy, do you give into his demands or do you dig your heels in and demand right back that he ask nicely for things or he Does Not Get Them?

I'm a dig-my-heels-in, I'm-just-as-stubborn-as-you-are mom, personally.

So why, then, when my inner child demands I WANT THAT PASTRY RIGHT NOW BECAUSE, UM, BECAUSE IT'S THERE AND I WANT IT, do I say, "Oh, okay Inner Child! Here's your pastry!"? How could I handle that, instead?

If I were talking to my kid (and having a Good Mommy day, and this wasn't the 50millionth time I had to answer this question), I would explain that eating sweets without eating something healthy is bad for your body, and I know it tastes good, but later with lunch we can have some strawberries instead. So, what would it be like if I were to catch my inner child's demands, realize them for what they are, and explain things in the same way? "Okay, Self, I know you'll like that cherry tart, but you're gluten intolerant, remember? And remember that you're trying not to eat processed sugar? Is that pastry worth getting a headache and being grumpy? You have gluten free cookies made with organic sugar at home! Let's wait until we get home, okay?"

Honestly? My inner child would throw a temper tantrum and say BUT I WANT IT NOW, THOSE COOKIES AREN'T THE SAAAMMMMEE AS A CHERRY TART.

And then I would tell my inner child that it's being rude and now it absolutely can't have it because of how it's acting.

So just as parenting your own actual child requires a lot of trial and error, bargaining, and explanation of consequences, what would it be like if you were to put that kind of effort into "parenting" yourself?

Getting a taste.

Just recently I was commenting that I didn't really know how to be home with my son by myself all day, even though I've always wanted to be a stay- (or work-) at-home-mom. For years I've been saying that web pages (what I've done professionally for the past 11 years) just aren't my thing anymore. A year ago I bought the domain name for my would-be coaching business, and promptly created a placeholder that has remained there ever since. Ever since the windows were installed in our house just after we bought it five and a half years ago, I've been thinking to myself that I really ought to finish painting the trim.

What do all these things have in common?

I found out almost two weeks ago that in three months, my position will be eliminated.

It wasn't that great of a shock; we've been warned of budget cuts for the past two years. In this round of cuts we knew our department would be losing two positions. Since my position was merged into this department, it had never really been the most important service being provided in the eyes of those deciding things like what services will be provided, so I sort of figured that my position would be one of the cuts. Finding out for sure, though, makes it real. That's different than probably.

So now, glance back at the first paragraph and guess how many of those things have either moved up on the priority list, or have become sudden real possibilities?

The house has been on the market for nearly three years and still I'd always put off all the little things like painting the window trim, little things that I felt like we needed to hide when we'd leave the house for someone to view it, which would end with the curtains being drawn and the house feeling dark. Along the same lines as the bathroom shelf I mentioned recently, it didn't take that long to paint the window trim; I open the curtains constantly now and it feels so much brighter in here, not to mention the good feeling that comes with being able to show off more of the house rather than feeling like I have to hide it.

I have a gazillion sick days saved up that I'll lose at the end of my job, so instead of cramming doctor's appointments into lunch hours, I'm taking half-days (we can't take sick leave hourly) and using the remaining time to clean up the house or just take some me time. (I played a video game the other day. By myself. For as long as I wanted.)

My father-in-law has been sick, and since my in-laws watch the little one during the day, that left me without childcare today... which, by the way, also counts as a sick day. I spent today with my son in a totally different mindset than the last time -- what could this be like if it were an everyday thing? Would I make breakfast every day, or cook up extra sausage and muffins early in the week to reheat later? Oh look, I can look through a cook book and toss something in the crock pot to be ready for dinner with absolutely no rushing around after work! I can do laundry! I can wash dishes as I go, because I'm not hurried! Oh, and since my father-in-law is still sick, I get to learn even more about what it's like to stay home with my kid and take care of my house all over again tomorrow! And I can already see the bottom of the laundry hamper! Well, one of them.

I've been crocheting more, as I realized I'd stopped making fingerless gloves that I was making so many of for a while, simply because people stopped asking. And then I felt stressed out and trapped and like I needed to do something but didn't know what, until I figured out that, oh yeah, that whole crochet thing was totally my creative outlet. Now I'm figuring I can build up a stock and sell them at the hippie store around the corner, and/or craft shows, and/or on etsy, and bring in an extra few dollars occasionally (in case that few dollars makes a difference).

I realized that after saying so many times "I am so done with websites!" that this time, I am so done with websites! I don't ever have to do them again if I don't want to when this job ends. I love me some barter so I'll keep up the ones I love doing, or love what I'm getting in exchange, but I am done being a webmaster. I actually started giggling when I realized that. I'm free! Now it's all on my own terms.

Like my own. That domain name I bought a year ago for my would-be coaching business? The one I kept telling myself I really ought to build a website for? The coaching I kept telling myself I really ought to start building a clientele for? Now that I finally got my kick-in-the-butt from the Universe telling me, "Okay! I'm giving you all these things now! You figure out what to do with them!" it took me a week to build the website from the ground up. And I love it.

And here it is: Life Spiraling Forward

Please, take a peek, and you know anyone who you feel that would resonate with (including yourself!) please feel free to shamelessly promote me as much as you want! I even have a sweet "hey, my new website is up!" price special going on for the first five folks to sign up. And if I find out they came from you, you might get a present. Just sayin'.

I've been having conversations with the Universe about this house attracting its new owner this month, and after a long dry spell we've seen a huge increase in traffic, which is pretty rewarding and says to me that the Universe listens. So I'ma keep talkin'!

You know, I didn't used to be this way. I used to be a worrymonger (which I would occasionally worry about). This "new" way of being, the way of seeing opportunities, feels so much brighter. (And hey, if you'd like to learn to do the same thing, there's a link up there for a life coach...)

Thoughts as a medicine cabinet.

Our house has been up for sale for quite some time now, and though we really haven't had any activity recently, we've become restless with the state of limbo we've been in. Our new house, which belonged to my husband's late grandparents, is just sitting there waiting on us. We've put some work into it here and there -- refinished the hardwood floor we discovered under the living room carpet, started painting what will be Raiden's bedroom -- and have moved some of our extra stuff over in various spurts, but we have finally grown restless with the restlessness. We're moving there. For real.

Though at times it feels like this process is really dragging out (and, let's face it, after almost-three years, it really is) we're lucky, in a way, that we get to take our time with it. There's no mad flurry of WE HAVE TO PACK RIGHT NOW OR ELSE and that allows us a little space to really go through what we have while we're packing it. Keep; yard sale or donate; trash. We've had several moments of "I forgot that even existed" and "So that's where that went! How did it get in there?!"

The most significant for me, so far, came yesterday afternoon. Raiden had become a holy terror and it was very obvious that it was because he was tired (though he refused to admit this, of course), so after getting him down for a nap, which pretty much never happens anymore, Rich and I were able to get some packing done without having to 1) stop a million times to entertain a three year old, or 2) feel guilty ignoring our three year old. Rich took to the bedroom; I stationed myself in the bathroom.

My first stop: the medicine cabinet above the washer. Storage tub in front of me and trash can to my side, I started going through all the stuff we had piled in our bulging-at-the-seams cabinet, deciding what to keep at the house we're still living in, what to go ahead and take over to the other house, and what to get rid of entirely. My being a pseudo-hippie came in two-fold in this scenario: 1) I had at least a couple dozen bottles of Standard Process supplements in the cabinet that have been there for who knows how long and for who knows what purpose, and 2) this made me think. It occurred to me, especially after a recent conversation with my fabulous coach (her website, her blog), that it was an analogy for thoughts.

I had all this stuff stored in my cabinet and though I knew vaguely that it was there and that I wasn't using it, I hadn't taken the time before then to really look at what the stuff was, how it was serving me by staying in my cabinet, when I picked it up in the first place, when it outlived its usefulness, or if I would ever use it again.

What about thoughts? What thoughts do I have sitting in the back of my mind that I know are there but don't really pay any attention to? How can these thoughts be serving me (or even "serving" me by allowing me the freedom to stay stagnant when moving forward is scary)? Where did they come from? Do I still need them? Will I ever need them again? Could someone else I care about benefit from me keeping them around?

I recently discovered the power in letting a thought go and replacing it with another, and even the power in realizing I could let it go.

What was funny to realize while cleaning out my cabinet was that if something was full, I had a hard time throwing it away. It was taking up a lot of space and I knew I would never use it again, but the thought of getting rid of something that hadn't really been utilized still bothered me. It made me wonder what big, full, useless thoughts may be occupying my mind, keeping me from replacing them with something I felt better about.

---

Later in the adventures of bathroom tidying, we removed a shelf we had never liked. There had been a built-in cabinet when we first bought the house, and I don't remember when we removed it or why, but the section of wall behind where it had been was painted a different color than the rest of the wall. We even color-matched the paint and picked up a quart a while back, but never painted it. Instead, we got an ugly shelf and decided that hopefully the clutter on it would cover up the ugly wall. It was functional, but it's always bugged me.

After the shelf was out, the wall was painted and the new shelf was in, I wondered aloud, "Why didn't do do this when it was for us??"

One of my favorite questions on my new-coaching-client questionnaire is, "What are you tolerating?" I was reminded again that I ought to ask it of myself occasionally, too. And then move on it. It didn't take that long to move the shelf or paint the section of wall. There was no reason to let it sit there bothering me for however many months or years it has been that way, when an afternoon took care of fixing it.

What else am I tolerating? How much energy am I giving the annoyance it's causing me, compared to how much energy it would take to do something about it and then be happier with it?

---

So what about you? What's hanging out in your brain's medicine cabinet? What is your unpainted bathroom wall that you're hiding with clutter on an ugly shelf? And when will you do something to change it?

More better.

We've been very busy this week -- the husband and I both took an extra couple of days off over the holiday, and spent some family time together, doing extra fun things with the little guy. (We really like our kid.) There was a theme park involved, and a discovery that we really need to take two loaves of bread to the park when we go feed the geese instead of one.

Point being, all the extra quality family time didn't lend much "work on the last project I need to finish to get my life coach certification" time. And I'm actually okay with that rather than feeling guilty. I needed the extra little guy time, and every second of every nap I took with him. Family naps are awesome.

And though I wasn't thrilled about coming back to work, even for just two days this week, I had a realization yesterday at work, too. You know those moments where you realize something completely perception-altering that is so simple you can't believe you never realized it before? It was one of those. I know I haven't written much about my job, but what I typically mention is an obvious inequality and Us vs. Them dynamic. What I realized yesterday was, I am better than this. I've been articulating things lately around that idea -- that I don't feel they're using me to my full potential, that I have a lot more to offer than they're taking advantage of, etc. -- but it's always been more of a negative phrasing of it; like, the feeling of resentment surrounding that I'm wasting away here. It dawned on me yesterday that a lot of what bothers me about it is that I know I'm better than this. Which is actually pretty huge. Instead of feeling like I'm not worth valuing, I know I am valuable and that they just don't see it. That's their loss. "What they think of me is none of my business." Along with this realization came another: keeping my productivity low due to being disgruntled is just proving them right. If I don't like my job because I'm better than it, rather than not good enough for it, it means I can kick my to-do list's butt instead of pretending it's not there until 4:15 every day and skirting by with as little as possible. It's not that I'm out to prove them wrong; it's more, I just feel dirty being a slacker, because I'm better than that. This whole concept has shifted me from being angry that I'm not getting praise for hard work, to feeling self-motivated to be my best just because I can.

I kind of kick butt, and I forget that sometimes in situations where I'm not reminded occasionally.

So on that note, in an effort to continue being "better than this" and (grammar aside) even more better in general, I restarted my Mindbloom life tree with more appropriate goals in mind. Okay, so part of my want to restart my tree had to do with a glitch in my account that gave me an extra 18,000 seeds (points) that I didn't have to earn, which took the fun out of completing tasks or reaching goals, so starting over gave me motivation to earn seeds correctly again, too. With better goals. On this tree, I added a "Spirituality" branch, and started small with the two actions, 1) Take a few minutes for a relaxing meditation, and 2) Reflect on your spiritual health by journaling on paper. I scheduled the items for every day. I'm hoping my love of check marks (I do love me some check marks) and earning points correctly again will kick my butt into actually taking those few minutes for myself, which I've always seemed to have a hard time doing. Check marks are highly motivating. (You should see my work to-do list. It has boxes for check marks. And is color coded by day. And then I count the check marks and log them into daytum.com so I can keep track of my check marks and work toward a higher average.)

(Side story about spirituality, really more about my kid: Since my grandpa died last November, I've been working with Raiden on understanding death. I explained that Grandpa died because he got very sick, and instead of his body getting better the way Raiden's does when he gets sick, it couldn't get better and it stopped working. That took several explanations before he got it, and then I realized I'd left out the spiritual component and explained to him that when you die and your body stops working, your spirit -- the part inside you that thinks and learns -- goes back to the spirit world for a while, and when it's ready, it goes into a new little baby's body in their mommy's tummy, and comes back for another life in that body. We're still working on this one, understanding that it doesn't go back into the same body again and that the person doesn't really come back as the same person. But he's getting there. So the real part I was getting at is this -- when he was playing with a little boy (about 10 I guess) at Kung Fu last night, he would pretend-hit the other kid with a "sword" (a foam bat), the kid would fall over and play dead, and after checking his pulse the way Obi Wan does Luke when the Sand People knock him out, he asked him, "Is your spirit still in there? Are you dead? Does your spirit need a new body?" I chuckled to myself and just hoped that no one in class was anti-reincarnation... )

Anyway, where was I? Right; using check marks to encourage myself to remember that it's okay to take time for myself. Because I'd sure hate to have to mark those a red X instead of a green check mark. My real goal on that? Is to prove to myself that the world will not, in fact, crash into rubble around me if I take 10 whole minutes for myself once a day, rather than feeling like I have to keep its weight on my shoulders. That will be an excellent thing for me to learn.

Revisiting.

I meant to do this last week, and didn't. I meant to do this sooner this week, and didn't. I finally got around to it briefly and at the last minute and now I want to find the time to do all of it all over again.

Lately I've been missing the School of Metaphysics.

My coach training group call last week had the topic of "transcending the ego," this week's topic (which I admit I am listening to them discuss right now) is "relationships." We did a great deal of talking about the ego, what it is, how it works for you, how it works against you, how to recognize it, all kinds of things, while I was at the School of Metaphysics, so knowing that "transcending the ego" was going to be our topic last week really made me want to get out my old SoM lessons and read up on the Ego stuff to refresh my memory, for one, and to give me more to offer the conversation as well. I never did. This week I wanted to do the same, as we learned a lot at SoM as well about relationships ("friendship" is the word used there most often) and what they can do for you and your own personal growth. I still didn't, until 7:26 this evening, in preparation for a 7:30 call. So I guess I was exaggerating when I said "last minute;" it was technically last four minutes.

I started skimming the lessons looking for the titles that could have what I was looking for, skimming through the lesson content a bit, and two things struck me. One: they are terribly new age hippie we are one with the universe cheezy, and Two: Wow, I miss the new age hippie it's okay to sound cheezy because we are one with the universe feeling I had when I was there.

I suddenly want to read all of the lessons again, one at a time the way they're meant to be read, to re-learn what I learned before, to refamiliarize myself with all of what I loved learning the first time, to remember all the deeper things I forgot I'd learned that got me prepared for the you create your own reality type of profession I am currently training in.

I've said the whole time I've been in coach training - multiple times, even, lots and lots and lots of times - how well the SoM prepared me for going into the coach training program. They both teach the same concepts, only differently, in different depths and from different angles. I feel - even when I can't remember the specific ideas - that I understand the training concepts better because I learned them somewhere else before. I feel like it gives me a greater understanding of the coaching process, because again, even if I can't remember the specifics, even if I can't put it into words, I just get it because it's not a new idea. I have felt so (and I never use this word) blessed that I had the SoM experience before I started training because it all just clicks so well. It all fits.

And, have I mentioned that I decided several weeks ago that the topic for my 10-20 page paper for my "independent project" is going to be Coaching and Metaphysics?

So of course it makes sense that the SoM director called me recently about a seminar coming up called The Power of Personal Connection, and of course it makes sense that the peer group topics have been those which would remind me of some SoM lessons. It's me creating my own world, laying my own path - creating opportunities in a variety of different ways for me to remind myself that, oh yeah, this all ties together withthe everything of everything, and that I have the opportunity to relearn the SoM stuff with the training knowledge I have now, and the opportunity to write out in 10-20 pages, double spaced, Times New Roman 12 point font, exactly how this all fits together and could give you (me) an amazing life to have the knowledge and therefore use of both schools of knowledge and sets of skills.

I mean, you know. Duh.

Becoming.

After a decade of knowing that I wanted to help people somehow, 8 years of knowing I wanted to help others feel better about themselves, 6 years of knowing that a profession such as life coaching exists, 4 years of talking friends through rough spots and being told I should get paid for it, 3 years of finally having put the pieces together and realizing I could get paid for it, 2 years of wanting it, 1 year of doing the research, 8 months of intense work on Self to get myself in the ready position, and 3 months of filling out forms and waiting for approval, my Life Coach training starts on Friday.

Everything has finally pulled together, everything points to this being the right move at the right time, and this is happening. I'm excited, in a very zen sort of way. I'm also a little scared. While the training itself is simply a 3-day weekend in Chicago, sitting in a room with a bunch of other folks ready to learn and practice the same information, it signifies the beginning of the new life I imagine for myself. This is Step 1. It sets into motion a much longer series of events leading to a whole lot of work and a whole lot of rewards, a lot if initiative needed on my part, a lot of job satisfaction, a lot more time with my kid, a lot more time to keep up my house so we have more family time rather than after-work-chore-time, a lot of I-don't-know-what-else that I can only imagine will be good. And it all starts this weekend. I'm not quite sure what about that makes it scary, but it is. Maybe just because it's real, and maybe because I have no idea what to expect in Step 2. I know there will be a time committment involved for coach/client practice and conference calls, and it's entirely possible that I'm concerned about those taking up family time that's already limited.

Technically speaking, the trip itself will be a 5-day weekend. I'll be driving there Thursday and getting back Monday. It'll be the longest time that I've ever been away from my little guy since he was born, and I am acutely aware of this, as well. It'll be the longest time that the husband has to be on full-time Daddy Duty with no Mommy reprieve. He seems to be going between excited to spend extra time with the little guy, and worried that he won't get any sleep since nights are a Mommy job. Myself, I'm going between being excited to see how they handle 5 days and 4 bedtimes by themselves, and concerned that it'll mess the little guy up - and make the separation anxiety we're just starting to get past flare up again - to randomly have no Mommy for so long. I guess only time will tell, and whatever happens, I'll still be happy to see my guys again when I get home. It'll be weird to sleep in a strange bed in a strange hotel by myself, when I'm used to sleeping with a husband half the night, and a toddler the other half.

The rental car, the directions to the hotel and training, the list of things to pack, and the hoping I make a couple of friends while I'm there, are all on my radar screen, too.

But mostly, I'm excited, because after nearly 28 years, I finally really feel like I'm taking my own steps in my own desired direction, and I like that this feels good. This feels right. And it's all starting this weekend.