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I've been getting instructions on my own tending from my dreamtime. Every once in awhile I have a dream that is so completely different in feeling and character, that I know it's a message that I need to understand. Last night I had one of those dreams. I dreamed that I was in a physical education class (never my best subject, though I do love moving my body) and I was doing the convoluted and strange exercises I was being asked to do. I just moved slowly through them. My PE teacher in the dream kept telling me how I wasn't doing it right, even though I was doing what she asked. And she kept telling me it wasn't fast enough... in effect... she kept up a stream of messages about how I wasn't good enough. I wanted so much for her to see that her story about me... that I couldn't do it... was wrong. I wanted her to admit that I did something... anything... right. But she would not. On waking, I realized that the PE teacher was really the younger me. I spent years with an internal voice that constantly told me I wasn't good enough. And here I was now, telling the PE teacher (or my younger self) that I wasn't motivated by being torn down, held as not good enough. Instead, that leaves me feeling depleted and unmotivated.  So, today, I'm recommitting to a practice I learned from a friend a few years ago. I learned the art of self-appreciation. It's crazy hard most of the time, because we're told that it leads to a big head, or thinking too much of ourselves, thinking we're better than others. But I don't think so.
I offer you the possibility that we don't think enough of ourselves. That we don't think highly enough of our abilities, our strengths, and our gifts. We don't claim what we're really truly good at... or the things we accomplished during the day. So, here's my commitment... for at least one week, I'm going to begin my morning with one appreciation related to how I approach each new opportunity. And at night, I'm going to appreciate something that I did that day. I'm going to post on Facebook... you can follow me there if you want to join in... or let me know here what you're committing to do in the name of your own tending!
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I knew when I signed up for YoniVerse that I was going to dig deep with a story that had been with me for 27 years. I knew that it was going to tap into old grief and loneliness. I did not know that I would find in it what I’d been wishing had been there for so long… love. I did not know that I would find triumph and fortitude. It’s been a five-month journey into one of my defining stories. I figure I have spent about 80% of my energy in the last 27 years fighting, contradicting, or otherwise doing hand-to-hand combat with this story. We have two more performances. And then I’m done. I have mined and found the gold, I have spent time in the grief and transformed some of it, I have cleared the shame and much of the fear… I am done. My story will be with me always. It is part of who I am. It has left a legacy… but now that legacy is made of strength and love instead of shame and fear. It has been very healing for me that audiences receive my story with compassion, they see in me the strength and triumph. Many people have talked to me after the performance, but the one who stands out… is the 20-something guy who told me that he was leaving with more compassion than he came with. THAT, my friends, is the power of story.  I now find myself with a huge energy surplus (not the doing kind… I’m still exhausted!)… but the creative, living-life, being-present kind of energy. What shall I do with it? I don’t know yet. Sure, my monkey mind has a list of all kinds of things I could do with this attention-energy. I have more stories I could delve into, I have work I could do, websites to remake, etc. But I have decided to sit in this beginning space and drink it in. I’m not sure what will come from here. I have lots of dreams I’d love to start working on… but there’s a sacred quiet here. It’s a little like being in the womb. I don’t know, and in the not knowing, there is nothing to do.  And yet, there’s a tending going on. It doesn’t look like much at face value… but it’s like singing over the seeds. It’s a prayer and an honoring.
Sure, I’m over here judging myself like mad… shoulds flying like confetti… but a wise part of me knows that even though I can’t capture it with words… something is happening. The tending. Are you tending something? How are you sitting with it? Really… I’m curious to know. I’ve been noticing a lot about the “tending” as I think it will relate to upcoming Virtual Retreats. So, I really am interested in your experience. |
Jill CliftonI'm an explorer of inner realms, a pattern observer, and an invitation maker. I believe that healing the world starts within. If you organize your blog conversations through Bloglovin' you can follow me there...
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