Tummy Trembles

our friend, anxiety Tummy trembles. Brain fuzz. That discombobulating feeling that you're not quite sure what you should be doing but you should be something to keep your act together. Anxiety. Sometimes it slips away with a few deep breaths, other times you need to beat it off with a stick or some little white pills. Naturally, we want try to get as far away from anxiety as possible - which usually just results in us being anxious about being anxious. You resist and so it persists. But what if rather than pushing it away, we actually welcomed anxiety when it showed up? What if, rather than dreading the discomfort it brings, we looked at anxiety as a delivery service of inner truth and other such soul goodies? 

Because every time anxiety shows up, it's our psyche's way of saying, "Knock knock, I've got something to show you about yourself that you really should see." Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard explained anxiety is a natural condition. (How liberating!) He believed that anxiety is "a cognitive emotion that reveals truths that we would prefer to hide but that we need for our greater health." And that it's a valuable to for shaping our ideal lives. Think of it this way, beneath the butterflies in your stomach, behind the clouds in your mind ... is your greater truth, and it's trying to break on through.

TURNING ANXIETY INTO POWER STEP 1: Face reality. "I'm anxious." Simply notice your anxiety. Firstly, you need to be aware of your actual indicators of anxiety ... they can be different for everyone. A lot of the times anxiety is trying to talk to us and we're just not picking up on the physical or mental cues. For me, anxiety manifests in what I call, priority confusion. If I wander from room to room in the house, unsure if I should tidy, check my email, walk the dog, or write a novel, then I know something is up. I'm typically very laid back and laser-like decisive so if I can't figure out what's first on the to-do list, I know that anxiety has come callin'. When you see the signs of it, all you need to do is simply state it. "I'm feeling anxious." There. 


You said it. You probably feel better already. Getting real is always the best first step. STEP 2: Inquiry. "So, why am I anxious?" This is the step that requires real work. It's the kind of inquiry that calls for both concentration and compassion ... a tricky combo. Having an "inquiry image" might be helpful. I often see dilemmas as layers of soft, earthy sediment within myself, and each question is a drilling down through the silt. "So why am I anxious?" I ask myself. "Because I don't want to be late." Not quite, that doesn't feel true. "So why am I anxious?"

 I repeat. "Because I've got so much to do." Nope, that's not it either, it's not making sense to my heart. "So why am I anxious?" I drill down. "Because I'm afraid that when I show up I'll be rejected." Bingo. When you get to the true reason for your anxiousness, and there may be more than one explanation, then there's usually a softening that occurs when you come across it. So you called it like you see it. That's powerful. And you've identified the reason - even more powerful. Now you're ready to rise above it. STEP 3: Take responsibility.

This is where your real power comes in. This is the fun bit, where you get to be a creative grown up, the master of your own domain. Once you've discovered why you're feeling anxious ... whether it's fear of failure, or a memory of past hurt or humiliation, then you need to counter the fear and negativity with courage and optimism. It's that simple - and that challenging. Whatever you want to call it, positive thinking, re-framing, self-encouragement, ra-ra-rah, this is where you need to step up to the plate, look at your fear head on and confront it with your truth. The truth being, that you manage to get through everyday whether with grace or grit; that fear will not kill you; that your God, or your friends, or your grandma in heaven will have your back; that you have risen above before, and that you will rise above again; that, it's only life after all. 

Anxiety doesn't come bearing the solution. It's just there to direct your attention to the problem. It's like a headache that signals to you that you're hungry. The headache reminds you that your body needs nourishment, and then it's up to you to feed yourself. Self-care is a divine responsibility. To befriend anxiety is to choose your deepest strength. It's turning brain fuzz into brilliance, and the jitters into vital fuel to help you shine brighter than ever

What failures are you grateful for?

Success and failure go hand in hand. "The things you are fired for are often the things that in later life you will be celebrated and given life time achievement awards for!" Francis Ford Coppola was canned for writing an "odd" and awkward script for the now legendary film Patton. The film was shelved, took years to make, and then went on to win an Oscar for best screenplay. Meanwhile, Coppola was working on The Godfather and was also on the verge of being canned from that film. He figures the glory from the Oscar saved his butt from being fired from The Godfather...which as we all know, went down in movie making history. If I hadn't been rejected from art school, I'd never have written my first book. If I'd gotten that gig with the big publishing house, I wouldn't have met The Dalai Lama. If I'd stayed in my last company, I wouldn't be writing the White Hot Truth. What's "odd" is often revolutionary (change happens at the edges..beware the majority.) Artistry rarely compromises, it just looks for a new place to express itself. "Good" will never, ever, ever be as deeply fine as giving it your all come hell or high water. Thank God for failure. What failures are you grateful for?

Failure Angel

The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Angel. Know her? Ry Cooder is considered to be one of the greatest bluesmen of all time. Yet, on more than one occasion, with a sold out concert and multiple encores, he asked promoters to refund the audience their money because he felt, "I could have been better." I have a painter friend whose art sells for $10,000 a painting. She routinely paints over pieces that are for sale in her gallery. It could have been better, she says. I've gotten standing ovations for speaking gigs. "Meh, I give myself a B. Coulda been better." Here's the confession: I always feel like I'm failing. And succeeding. And failing. And succeeding. And failing. I'm not masochistic. My glass is not 'half full', it is oceanic. I feel sturdy and ripe. But The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Thing.... it's as steady as the green of my eyes. If you're committed to the sacred strive, The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Thing will always be along for the ride. ... In your speech, your craft, your work. Pleasing your lover, planting your garden, dispensing your accumulated knowledge. You can make masterpieces. Daily. You can please some people, get a raise, fire up your kundalini, you can hit it out of the park and sleep like a satiated baby that night. And then in she glides, to sit in the chair in the corner of your room: The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Thing. She's an angel, I tell you. An angel. You are not insecure, neurotic, defective, obsessive, or unappreciative. (Well, maybe you are, but not because you experience The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Angel.) Coexisting with The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Angel is part of making art. She is as reliable as your creative impulses. She comes bearing invitations. To more. The Subtle & Abiding Sense of Failure Angel is able to enter because you left your heart open. Leave it open. You have to. To make more stuff. To make it better, so that we evolve and bring one another along for the ride. Where demons get to be angels if you look at them the right way.

ERMA BOMBECK

If I had my life to live over, I would have talked less and listened more. I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded. I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace. 

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth. I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed. I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage. I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains. I would have cried and laughed less while watching television - and more while watching life.

 I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband. I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day. I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime. Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle. When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner." There would have been more "I love you's".. More "I'm sorrys" ... But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute... look at it and really see it ... live it...and never give it back.

ODE TO JOY

LUDWIG van BEETHOVEN Beethoven's great chorus At one of the most difficult periods in his life, Ludwig van Beethoven composed what most would say was his greatest symphony. His "Ode to Joy" from the Ninth Symphony has been and will always be the chorus of Beethoven's life.

Robert Burn--to a mouse