Posts Tagged ‘death’

Owning Surrender: Thoughts from Dr. Lee Lipsenthal

Sunday, January 10th, 2010

lettinggo

Dear Pinkies, it’s with great pleasure that I welcome back Dr. Lee Lipsenthal, an inspiring physician and mentor of mine, who inspired this post a couple of months ago. Lee was diagnosed not long ago with metastatic cancer and was given a 10% chance of survival. In a recent update of his status, he said, “I don’t recommend the combination of chemo and radiation to anyone. There’s no fun there. However, my cancer is responding beautifully and I am booking work for the summer after my two retreats!” Lee has generously agreed to allow us to reprint an article from his newsletter. Enjoy his intriguing insights on a theme that’s been up (and up and up) for us Pinkies, it seems, since the beginning of time: Surrendering Control.

****

Letting go of control (Acceptance)

In my last piece, I had written about how making today a good day to die also makes today a great day to live while decreasing fear of death. I also mentioned that the two main “ingredients” of this state are gratitude and acceptance: gratitude for the people, things, memories, emotions, and events of your life and acceptance that you really have no control over most of it.

Gratitude is probably easy for most of you. I strongly suspect that the concept is usual and that you do feel grateful for things in your life. Acceptance is much harder, especially in the western mind-set and especially for physicians, as we are a ‘high need for control’ group.

Another way of describing acceptance is knowing that you have little control in your life. We often perceive that acceptance or acknowledging a lack of control is a sort of failure, whereas in the Zen mind-set (or even the Alcoholics Anonymous mind-set), acceptance is a great strength.

Why do we need to feel like we are in control? It’s simple, control, for most, equals safety. In our very basic neuro-physiological, survival based brains, safety means no immediate threats and this allows us to feel at ease. Remember, our brains were created/evolved to help us survive adversity and they do so whether we are conscious of it or not. It is easier to believe that we consciously make choices rather than accept that we are driven by unconscious neuro-physiology and chance occurrences. The majority of our choices are based on “gut feelings” which are really physiological events. Therefore, it’s your physiology that is in control. If you read Malcolm Gladwell’s book “Blink” you will learn that most of our choices are based on these subconscious events. Is it possible that a “gut feeling” is from a higher power? Yes I believe so, but it still doesn’t mean that you are in control. In this case it’s the higher power that is in control.

Let’s take the simple act of buying a soft drink at a 7-11. You are driving along and you become aware that you are thirsty or hot and want something wet and/or refreshing. Is this a choice or is you body/brain telling you something that finally enters you conscious awareness? I would say it’s the latter. So you pull your car (which you probably purchased to feel more powerful, sexy, free or safe – remember power is safety) into the parking lot of a 7-11. Why 7-11 – brand recognition, consistency and past positive experience equals safety.

You walk in, go to the cooler cases and pick out a 7-up. Why this choice? Safety. You liked 7-up in the past, it didn’t harm you and it met your wet/cooling needs. You may even look at other products, juices, sports drinks etc, but 9 out of 10 times you will be drawn to a safe choice. You looked at other products, therefore, you feel that you have made a “choice”, but you have not. Your need for safety chose 7-up. This is why, many years ago, the “new” Coke failed and Classic Coke was remarketed. People want safety. Do you really have choice?

Obsessive compulsive personality disorder (OCPD) is the extreme version of these survival mechanisms. For a person with OCPD the ‘threats’ are many, anxiety is significant and solace can be found in repetitive behaviors, which provide routine and a sense of safety. But how many people with OCPD are happy in their lives? Unfortunately, not many. They are ruled by the severe pressure to find safety, the need for control is high and the anxiety can be overwhelming.

Let me add one larger layer of lack of control. You cannot know the outcome of events in your life. I will paraphrase an old Chinese story, retold by Eckhard Tolle. A man wins a new car in a lottery. All his friends tell him how lucky he is. His only response is “maybe”. A few weeks later, he has an accident in the new car and ends up in the hospital. His friends tell him that it is a tragedy. His response is “maybe”. While he is in the hospital there is a nighttime electrical fire in his house. If he were there, he surely would have died. His friends tell him how lucky he is. His response is “maybe”. This story can go on forever, but the core element is that we really don’t know what the long-term outcome of any event or choice will be. We base choices on our projections of outcomes, but we really don’t know what will happen. How many “great ideas” in business or life fail? How many love relationships end up in divorce?

Have you been able to control the behaviors of your spouse, your children, your parents or even yourself. Just think of all the failed diet attempts. This can sound dismal to most.

So, how much control do you actually have, especially over the ‘big picture’? I would say, very little. This can be either disturbing or liberating.  It is disturbing if it makes you feel unsafe. It is liberating if you can be present with this concept and even enjoy the surprise of what actually happens.

For religious individuals, the safety comes from a sense of “God’s will”. In this mind-set, there is a big picture that the person cannot know the “answer” to. For meditation practitioners, this insight comes from calm observation of the events in their lives. This observation can (not always) lead to a peaceful realization that control is not necessary.

If one accepts this lack of control, one can accept anything that arises and accept that it “maybe” good or bad and you wont know for sometime to come, if ever. Remember also that “maybe” is a reasonable response to any judgmental projection – this is ‘good’ or this is ‘bad’.

Whether you attribute this acceptance to a higher power or you own neuro-physiology, or both, it doesn’t matter (science and religion are both useful ways of understanding this phenomenon).

I am not suggesting an attitude of “screw it, I can’t control it anyhow”. I am suggesting that even when you are aware that there is no real control, you can still be guided by what socially, morally works for you. In this way, knowing that you tried well, loved well and served well makes every day a good day to live or die. It’s just a good day.

Combining this acceptance with gratitude, on a daily basis, liberates us and makes today a good day to live or die. It also makes the ‘ride’ that life gives us less predictable, more fun and there are surprises around every corner. Not bad at all – “maybe”!

I raise this issue, not because I believe that I have magical answers to life’s concerns, but because these are intriguing questions to ask and maybe pondering these questions will shift your perception a bit. How much time do we spend, planning, thinking, judging, choosing and being sure of our opinions? Is this time well spent?

Lissa’s Note: What about you, Pinkies? Can you let go and accept that you CANNOT control your life, no matter how much effort you expend? Does it give you peace to realize this? I don’t know about you, but although it does make me feel “unsafe,” it also takes the pressure off.  It’s an invitation to go with the flow. Sure, there are times when I crave the illusion of control, the illusion of certainty. I would like to believe that I know, without a doubt, that I will be living in the same place, with the same people, doing the same job, being the same person- a year from now. And yet, I can’t possibly know this. Anything can change- at any time. All we have is right now- this moment. And in this moment, I invite you to find peace.

Letting go,

Lee and Lissa

Join The Pink Community and Feel the Love!

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Guest Pinkies, Owning Surrender | 6 Comments »

Life is Ephemeral: Living In The Moment

Thursday, November 19th, 2009

sunrisesmall

Hiya Pinkies! I wrote this post last week, very early in the morning, while I was in Big Sur, and I wanted to share it with you.

Clinging to the Moment

I awoke early this morning to the nature sounds of Big Sur. My husband still sleeping, I threw on a sweater and made my way to outdoor sofa, overlooking the breathtaking view of Big Sur’s ocean cliffs. The sun was just beginning to cast its pink-hued glow on the landscape, and I ran back into the house to find my camera, so I could capture the beauty.  I kept trying, take after take.  But try as I might, my little Canon just couldn’t reproduce what I was seeing with my own eyes. Then I realized I needed to stop. I was trying so hard to freeze the moment in time that I was forgetting to simply enjoy it.  So I put down the camera and enjoyed the sunrise, knowing that the memory of it would exist only in my mind.

But isn’t that always the case? How often to we cling so hard to past memories or future worries that we fail to appreciate what actually exists- which is this moment, right now.  Think of how much time you spend remembering yesterday or planning tomorrow. Even this precious moment, this beautiful sunset, will be gone in moments (in fact, as I write, the pink is fading as a warm golden yellow replaces it).  Like it or not, life is ephemeral. Trying to grasp it is like clinging to a trapeze of shifting sand. If you depend upon it staying the same, you will inevitably fall.

Being Present

I think back to moments in time I’ve tried to attach to- the precious quiet of my father holding my newborn only hours before he died, the snuggled-close feeling of being in a bloody labor bed with my best friend and sister as she awaited the birth of her daughter, the sunset backdrop of my Big Sur wedding to my beloved.  All are precious memories- and valuable as such. Yet, those moments, at the time, were fraught with worry.  How much longer would Dad live? Would Becca’s birth go well?  Would the sun set so fast that we lost light for our wedding? Why do we do this?

What if, instead, we commit to actually living, to being truly present for each moment of our lives, both the joyful ones and the tragic ones?  What if we stop regretting what happened in the past or fretting about what the future might hold?  What would that look like?

Try it, Pinkies. I dare you. Please report back. What does this moment- right now- hold for you?

Living right here, right now,

Lissa

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Owning Balance, Owning Joy, Owning Surrender | 7 Comments »

Owning Our Wholeness: Epiphanies

Saturday, November 7th, 2009

Epiphany Times Three by Kathrin Burleson

Epiphany Times Three by Kathrin Burleson

Hiya Pinkies – please welcome back the incomparable Alice Langholt, Pink Reiki Rockstar and dispenser of great Pink wisdom. Today she writes of ephiphanies — those pivotal moments in life that make us who we are. We drank in every word and know you will too. Thank you, Alice, for this gorgeous, thought-provoking piece.

I have been thinking about epiphanies – those moments when you learn something about life, and in doing so, your understanding of reality shifts. There are many of these that happen to us from an early age, and usually we can remember them because they pack a wallop! Epiphanies are scattered throughout life, and involve a paradigm shift – a drastic change of understanding. So I thought I’d share my epiphanies with my Pinkie siblings. Maybe you share some of them, and no doubt you have some of your own to add. These are mine:

  • Death – I remember learning that people die, and when they do, they don’t come back (at least not in physical form as we knew them). I learned it around the age of four, but the lesson really hit home the deepest for me when my favorite aunt died suddenly on the night of my 8th grade dance. I found out that she had died as I was getting into my dress, and it was too late not to go – my date was coming to pick me up in about 10 minutes. So I went but ran to the bathroom for a huge cry in the middle of the evening, dragging my best friend along for support.
  • Sex – Learning how babies are made is an epiphany. It’s rather shocking, and I know that many of us feel that our parents bungled telling us, making a traumatic, uncomfortable conversation out of “the talk.” I was about five years old, and wasn’t ready to know, but my mom thought I needed the information and kind of forced the conversation. I wanted to cover my ears and yell, “LA LA LA LA LAAAA!” to drown out her words. “Ewwww!” I remember thinking. As far as my own kids, I waited until they asked and really wanted to know how that baby had gotten into my growing belly, and then I told them. Were we uncomfortable? Oh yeah. But it was okay, I think. I’ll know more about how well I did when they are old enough to tell me how they remember the conversation.
  • There are people with bad intentions in the world. Finding out that not everyone has your best interests at heart is an epiphany. It’s a sad wakeup call to learn not to talk to strangers and why, and what to do if someone tries to abduct you. Many a nightmare is triggered by fear of crime or a bad person trying to hurt you. This is a particularly disturbing epiphany. I don’t remember exactly when I learned it, but I know that the lesson was powerful and scary.
  • War exists – I remember learning about WWII and prejudice, racial hatred, and the pain of finding out how people in my religion were senselessly treated. Knowing that people have a history of not being able to accept differences, despite the peaceful, tolerant-emphasizing way we are being brought up, is painful. Learning about slavery is another, related epiphany, and empathetically hurtful. People can be so cruel to each other, and it’s hard to live in a world where things like this have been, and still are, so rampant. I remember being deeply upset and feeling hopeless about the world for a good long time beginning when I was in the sixth grade.
  • Heartbreak – The first time someone breaks your heart is an epiphany. You learn how much it hurts and that in time you get over it. Chances are it won’t be the last time, either. My first heartbreak was in eighth grade, and I wrote a song full of teenage angst called “Alone Again” which described my feelings perfectly after being dumped.
  • Love – Really learning what it means to love and be loved was an epiphany. For me, this included the realization that love means treating the other person with love, and being treated that way as well. I spent a good long time in my teenage years thinking that love meant working through problems. If only I knew that I wasn’t being treated with love, and this was not what love meant, I would have saved myself six years of being mistreated by my so-called boyfriend. I try to teach my teen students this realization when I have the opportunity. I will also teach my children this when they’re interested in dating. When I finally dated someone who treated me like I was someone to be cherished, I learned the difference. That was an epiphany for me. I learned that I am deserving of love, and of being with a person who would treat me that way. This epiphany helped me know that my husband was the right person to marry.
  • Having Sex – Yes I said this before, but this time it’s the experience of sex, not just learning about it, that’s an epiphany. Whenever it happens to you, however it happens, the experience itself is one that most people always remember. I’ll spare you the details of my first time, but tell you that it happened when I was seventeen.
  • Having a baby – This applies to either gender, but I have to say that being female, it’s an especially powerful epiphany. Being pregnant is a feeling like no other – having a living being growing and moving inside your body is an intimate experience. I remember feeling the little kicks. I remember my husband singing to my belly and the baby moving her head close to his mouth when he did, to hear him better. Labor is another profound and unique pain, followed by the overwhelming love experienced by holding that newborn and gazing into his or her little eyes with wonder. Creating another human being is mind-blowing. Becoming a parent changed my life completely. Being a parent is an endlessly unfolding series of epiphanies as my husband and I watch and try to support our kids’ growth.
  • Reiki – Learning Reiki was an amazing epiphany. I had longed for a spiritual connection ever since I can remember. Learning Reiki gave me a tangible, physical response to spiritual energy. I feel tingles in my hands when Reiki is running through them. The experience of working with Reiki energy showed me that there is something spiritual outside myself – an energy coursing through me – that’s capable of helping someone feel better if I focus my intention on sending it to him or her. It showed me that we are all, indeed, connected, and have great power to help each other. Reiki represents something I can do to make the world better by helping others. I guide others to tap into this potential inside them when I teach Reiki. I help people feel better when I give a Reiki healing session. Anyone can learn it, and when I teach someone Reiki, I feel I’ve done something worthwhile. For many, having a religious experience is an epiphany – God exists! For me, learning Reiki showed me the same thing, and I can do something that goes beyond talking about a religious experience: I can give this experience to others when I teach them Reiki. Reiki is not religion, but it is a profound connection with the spiritual energy inside, around, and running through all of us. Learning Reiki gave me my life’s purpose and my spiritual connection. I am forever changed and utterly grateful.

What are your epiphany moments, Pinkies? What have you learned that changed the way you understand your life?

With eyes wide open,

Alice

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Guest Pinkies, Owning Aging, Owning Joy After Loss, Owning Love, Owning Sexuality, Owning Spirituality, Owning Your Body, Owning Your Family, Owning Your Intuition, Personal Empowerment | 3 Comments »

Is It Possible to Live In Joy When Someone You Love Dies?

Sunday, October 25th, 2009

contemplation

Dearest Pinkies, please welcome Pink Posse rockstar Kimberly Wencl. Kim has been posting a series over on the Posse Blog that has kept all of us on the edge of our seats, waiting for more. The series, titled, “What I Know For Sure,” chronicles the events around and following the death of her daughter. Today, Kim offers profound wisdom on Owning Joy After Loss. We are delighted to introduce Kim and thank her for all that she brings to the Pink community.

In the fall of 2003, my Elizabeth had just turned 20 and had just begun her sophomore year at the University of Minnesota.  During the early morning hours of Saturday, September 20th, a fire broke out in her duplex, and she and two roommates died of smoke inhalation.

The question I’m often asked is how can you find joy when you have suffered such a devastating loss?

The answer is simple, yet complex.  It is a journey and not a destination.  I wouldn’t be where I am today had God, or The Universe as I like to call it, not stepped into my life in a very strong, yet tangible way to lend a helping hand.

During the first few days, weeks and months after Liz’s death I was in a state of shock.  Nothing can prepare you for such an event.  I also felt very guided by something far greater than myself, and not knowing what else to do, I listened and followed.  Thankfully, the signs I received from the Universe were so very obvious and just downright blatant that I could not help but pay attention.

Peace and Knowing

As soon as I learned of my daughter’s death, I felt a complete sense of deep peace.  It was something I had never felt before and it is very difficult to put into words.  The best way to describe it is that I was experiencing “the peace that passes all understanding.”  I felt as if a path was put in front of me and I could follow it if I wanted to … but I didn’t have to. I was free to do whatever I wished.  But this sense of peace was so tangible, so strong, and so real that it pulled me slowly step by step down a path … and I’m still on this path today.

Within the first week, three people shared with me signs they felt came from Liz – one of her closest high school friends, my mother and my husband. As I learned of each of them, it confirmed for me that this sense of peace I was feeling was indeed real.  As a mother, all I have ever wanted for each of my children was that they be happy and safe from harm.  I realized that Liz was both of those things and that I no longer needed to worry about her.  It felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from my shoulders.  It also gave me the courage to embark on this journey – to take a step, and then another, and another, and I’m still taking steps today, over six years later.

Questions and Answers

This strong presence of peace enabled me to immediately talk to Liz … asking for her help to deal with the many details that had to be handled.  Eventually I came to realize she answered me in very real, concrete, and tangible ways.

The day after Liz’s death I had to go out and buy an outfit to bury her in.  Everything she owned had been in the fire. I told her point blank that I needed her help – that I had no idea what she would want. It only took a few minutes for me to pick out a pair of khaki pants and a light blue sweater. I didn’t immediately “know” this was right. In fact, what I did “know” was that what she wore didn’t really matter. That knowing was unusual in and of itself, as Liz was a “fashionista” – she loved clothes and always wanted new outfits. The fact that what she wore no longer mattered proved to me that she now viewed the world in a new and different way.

Two days later, my sister-in-law told me that she had been going through pictures and found one of Liz taken the previous Christmas.  She was wearing the identical outfit that I had picked out. My first thought was, “oh good, I think I got it right.”  It took several months before the light bulb came on and I understood that I got it right because Liz truly did help me.

Compelled to Act

My family and I did our best to resume our life. We went back to work and school and we did the things we always did.  But life for me continued to be a journey down a certain path – one step at a time.  Each time a new opportunity presented itself I would have this intense yearning to follow.  I have never, ever felt such strong compulsions to act in my entire life.

Many of the opportunities presented to me were completely out of my comfort zone – driving in a busy metropolitan area, meeting new people, not worrying about what other people thought, and eventually stepping out to write and speak my truth for the world to take in.

One month after Liz’s death, the smoke alarm in our home went off, and I was the only one heard it, even though my husband and younger daughter were also home at the time. I immediately knew it was a sign from Liz and not just some strange coincidence.  It represented yet another step on my path.

Crossing Paths

A month later I found myself in just the right place at just the right time to meet a woman who changed my life and continues to this day to be my teacher, my mentor and my friend. Kathryn Harwig is a psychic, author, speaker, teacher, and lawyer.  I learned of her ability to speak to the dead and immediately knew this was to be the next step on the path of this journey that was now my life.

Kathryn confirmed what I already knew – that Liz was fine. She was living a marvelous new life. Kathryn told me how much Liz loved me – and I told Liz how much I loved her.  Nothing else really mattered. Kathryn helped us to forge a new connection as mother and daughter, but more importantly as kindred souls who will always be united.

Owning My Story

For a long time I questioned why all of these amazing things were happening to me?  I was very reluctant to share them, and I lived in fear that I would be judged harshly.

It took time, but little by little I began to tell my story to those around me, and I came to understand that my experiences were meant to be shared with the world in order to allow others to perhaps see things in a new way, or, to realize what The Universe has available for all of us. To allow them to be open to the possibilities, to ask for what we need, to pay attention, and, most importantly, to be grateful for whatever it is we receive.

I have learned not to live in fear, but to trust and follow where you are led.  My fear of being judged harshly by telling my story never happened.

 

My Message

Please know that I am not a special person with special privileges or abilities. I’m just like you – I lead a very normal, ordinary life, and my message is that guidance from The Universe is available to each of us.

Sometimes we cannot move through our pain and grief, but instead we become stuck in it. My hope and prayer will always be that my story will open up a world of new possibilities for those stuck in the pain so that they can see things in a new way, and move through the darkness of the pain out into the light of joy and happiness.

People sometimes feel that if they are happy – if they laugh or smile – they are somehow betraying their loved one. I can’t buy into that mentality. The best way to honor someone is to live a good life – to laugh, to love, and to do whatever possible to make the world a better place.

Do I have difficult days?  Of course I do.  Do I wish things could have been different?  Yes, of course.  The key is acknowledging our feelings – feel them to the Nth degree.  If we do so, we will move through the pain and will not stay stuck in it. Tomorrow will always be better. If we stuff or deny our feelings, they may subside for a time – but they will return with a vengeance on another day at another time.

Eternal Being

Our relationships are gifts and sometimes gifts must be returned, even when we don’t want them to be. Our physical bodies die – but the essence of who we are and the love we share never dies.

“It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.” I don’t know who penned those words but they are words to live by. The bond we all share with those we love is never broken – not even by death – and that is the best news of all and it’s what makes our life worth living each and every day.

In peace and joy,

Kim

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Guest Pinkies, Owning Joy After Loss, Owning Spirituality, Owning Surrender, Owning Your Intuition, pink posse | 7 Comments »

Mojo Monday Exercise: Write a Letter to October

Monday, October 5th, 2009

autumnCheerio Pinkies, and happy Mojo Monday.

Joy here. Today’s Mojo Monday exercise was inspired by the extraordinarily talented Pink Posse member Christa, who wrote this exquisite letter on the Posse blog. Naturally, we at OP were instantly inspired and started typing up our own hymns to this often overlooked but most precious month. HUGE thanks to Christa for all she has stirred up with her words. Here’s what poured out of me (but before you read it, please check out Christa’s … it is gorgeous, poetic, and the reason for this powerful Mojo Monday exercise).

Dear October,

When on earth did you get here? And when did you get to be so STUNNING? Your arrival with all its crystal crispness has drawn me outside at every possible moment, to work, to walk, to wish. San Francisco summer is one persnickety sister, and September’s like her younger sibling. But you, October, you steal in without a scene or fanfare, taking us all by surprise, blinding us with your light, awakening us to the change all around us, calling us to live appreciatively in it rather than be rocked or jostled by the inevitable turning of the seasons of life.

Back in my fear and loathing stage, when I was in a very different place (physically and in every other way), you were to be both feared and loathed by me … despite your benign beginnings, the tail-end cold of you would shoot straight through clothing to bone, diminishing the delight of fall colors. I never bothered to emotionally alight on anything that would be so fleeting and impermanent. You were a harbinger of the long cold winter to come. I dreaded the long darkness you represented. Maybe now that I’m here, in a place where seasons mean a change in day length more than one in temperature – but also here, in a place of slowing down and SEEING that there’s kindness and there’s beauty and there’s love – I am able to breathe you in for the marvelous gifts you bestow.

For me you are the impending birth of my first-ever niece; the anniversary of my parents; the death of my father (and the celebration of his life). You are when we moved into our magical house on the hill; you are the tinge of holiday nervousness; you are a descent into a quiet contemplation that I am determined this year to recognize as simply another season of life.

Now that you mention it, October, I do feel the slowing. Things aren’t as crowded and frenetic. There’s more spaciousness and less stress. Ostensibly nothing has changed, aside from you being here, wide open, and inviting me to take a deep breath and settle in. Every day wasn’t meant to be summer. Life has its winters too, and you walk gently beside me as I take steps toward this understanding. Beginnings are wonderful. Endings are treasures. Everything in between is just fine as well. And on it goes.

Thank you October for opening my eyes to the unmistakable exquisiteness in all the things of life – even the cold, and the dark, and the stillness, and the death.

You are so beautiful,
Joy

Little does Christa know the layers of discovery she provoked by starting this. For me, this exercise ended up being much more about Owning right where I am right now; the present moment; and all there is.  It pulled me back into the now, and opened my eyes to new dimensions of acceptance and surrender. It reminded me of a passage I recently read from Chyogyam Trungpa’s Shambala: Sacred Path of the Warrior:

You begin to see that there are seasons in your life in the same way as there are seasons in nature. There are times to cultivate and create, when you nurture your world and give birth to new ideas and ventures. There are times of flourishing and abundance, when life feels in full bloom, energized and expanding. And there are times of fruition, when things come to an end. They have reached their climax and must be harvested before they begin to fade. And finally, of course, there are times that are cold and cutting and empty, times when the spring of new beginnings seems like a distant dream. Those rhythms in life are natural events. They weave into one another as day follows night, bringing, not messages of hope and fear, but messages of how things are.

So Pinkies, start with a letter to October on this beautifully autumnal Mojo Monday. See what comes up. What are you ready to own, accept, release? What are your feelings in general about the start of fall, and what is coming up for you that’s unique to this particular October? Maybe it will feel better to whittle your words down to just today, or this very second. Or perhaps an ode to this Whole Year feels more appropriate. Whatever it is, Own it all. And please, of course, share your letters with us in the comments section.

Yours right now (and now) (oh! and even now),

Joy

****Hiya, Pinkies! Lissa here. I was so inspired by Christa’s and Joy’s letters that I just wrote one of my own:

Dear October,

Welcome, old friend! You have long been my favorite season, perhaps because I spent years growing up in Florida, where October heralded a respite from the oppressive heat and daunting summer rains. October emerged with a crispness and the occasional sweater day. Fashions of fall- orange, brown, purple, crimson, colors I love.  After the garishness of summer neon, fall invites a sense of grounding, a return to the earth, as the trees shed their festive sugar maple leaves and flowers fade.

There is an impending hibernation in the air, the knowing of cold days, maybe snow, bald trees, short days. But with it comes an exhilarating hope, as you arrive, splendid in your autumn dress, to celebrate the season’s turn.

But these are merely the superficialities, October. Deeper in lies a quieting of the soul that I crave in my chaotic, frenzied life. There’s a sense of turning inward, of drawing into the heart, and building a cocoon around me. I have this deep sense of knowing that things are about to change, that next October will not offer me this luxury, as I will be swirling in the madness of a book tour, of media attention I fear, of being separated from my family as I spread the Pink message of love, light, wholeness and acceptance. This is coming- I know it. So now is the time to turn in, October, to prepare myself, to strengthen my ties to myself and my family, to heal old wounds, to clarify my vision, to nurture my body, to commune with the Divine, to be still and listen.

This will be the long part of this lengthy gestation. The next six months will be the third trimester, the long waiting before the storm of change. You October, are that turning point, with the conception and development of this phase of my life near completion. You will prepare me to become the butterfly I must.

You are a reminder that all things come, and then all things pass. That life is impermanent, that there’s no point attaching to the spring flower that must fade or to the summer days that linger endlessly. Change is inevitable. We can expend all of our energy resisting it, or we can simply let go.

So this is my mission. I surrender to you, October. I bless you for all that you are and all that you challenge me to be. I love you.

Yours without season,

Lissa

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Mama Earth stuff, Mojo Mondays, Owning Spirituality, Owning Surrender, Owning You, pink posse | 13 Comments »

© Copyright 2009-2010 OwningPink - All Rights Reserved.