Blog - Page 4 of 8 - Francine Kelley, LCPC, SEP, RYT500

Celebrating Gran

I’m writing this post in honor of my grandmother, Alice McKenzie who transitioned last week at the ripe old age of 90. I’m not much for grieving, as strange as that might sound, maybe because I believe that this life is just a stop along the journey of our souls. Or maybe I just need therapy! Sometimes a person’s life can be really sad, and we mourn the circumstances that they had to endure. Sometimes we just miss the person who has passed and we wish to have them still with us. My Gran lived a long and full life, and instead of grieving her passing, I feel more inclined to celebrate her life and give gratitude for her amazing contribution to the world as I know it.

Many years ago, I heard Carolyn Myss talking about living your purpose. She said (to paraphrase – as I remember it) that we always imagine our purpose to be something big, but for many of us, our purpose is simply to live our lives as we are, being a shining light for those around us. My grandmother was such a light.

Gran didn’t have a fancy degree or an impressive resume. She raised cows and sold milk in Jamaica to support the education of her children. When the last one graduated from University, she got on a plane – alone – and moved to Brooklyn to start a new life on her own terms. It was a spunky move, she was a spunky lady. She got a job as a domestic worker with a family in Westchester and worked for them for decades. When they retired to Florida she got a job delivering lunches to partners in a law practice. She retired when she was 80. My Gran’s life was difficult at times. Yet, she had a strong faith in God and wasn’t one to feel sorry for herself. She was a woman of action. As a single woman working a simple job when she first arrived in the US, she often sent us barrels containing goods that were not available in Jamaica at the time, or were too expensive there. Eventually, she made it possible for all of us (her children and grandchildren) to join her here in the United States to have the opportunities we might not have had in a small island nation.

There was never a doubt in my grandmother’s mind that we would all “make something of ourselves.” She was strong in her conviction – tenacious if you will, and her tenacity fueled our family. She died leaving 5 children, 22 grandchildren, 11 great grandchildren and 2 great-great grandchildren (as well as the many in-laws whom she welcomed with open arms). We have a collection among us of various fancy degrees and impressive resumes, but my grandmother left us the gift of seeing beyond all that to our shared humanity. She celebrated our accomplishments, but I think she was always more concerned that we be happy, responsible, able to care for ourselves, and willing to care for each other and those who needed our help. My grandmother suffered in her life at the hands of another. Her response to her suffering has always been a great lesson to me. First, she took action. She made a plan and as soon as the time was right, she left the situation. Then, instead of becoming bitter, she became more compassionate and understanding of the suffering of others. Instead of hating the one who hurt her, she turned her energy to loving us all and to helping us become the best we could be.

My grandmother taught me that strength is not hard or uncompromising. She taught me that strength is knowing right from wrong, loving fiercely, and making the hard choices to always follow what you think is right. Though sometimes firmness is required, she taught me that a woman can be strong and still compassionate, loving and kind. She taught me that a legacy is more than large gestures and public acclaim. A true legacy is born of living your life in truth and in love. This simple and uncomplicated woman, barely 5 ft tall, affected the lives of so many with her tenacity, spunk, kindness, generosity and open heart. Hers was surely a life well lived.

My you fly on the wings of the angels, Gran. I love you now, as always.

New blog

Please find me at my new blog: http://sourceisyou.blogspot.com

Fear as opportunity

After the last blog entry I had a question from someone I love dearly that touched me deeply. To paraphrase her question: What if when you start to bring your fears to the surface it seems that there is nothing but more and more fear, and you realize that you’re living your entire life from a place of fear?

I wish I had a quick and easy answer to that question, but fear is such a huge issue. One thought that kept coming up for me was the judgment of fear as being pathological. I was reminded of this by a comment to my last post. Rather than being a black hole of despair, the recognition of fear can be an opening into a place of seemingly deep mystery – your own mind, heart and soul. It can be opportunity to see the ways we have taken on other people’s ideals and judgments and made them our own without questioning their validity. Recognition of fear gives the opportunity to question the fears themselves and chose whether to continue to live with them, or just let them be. It gives us the opportunity to love & be compassionate toward ourselves because we are fearful, not in spite of it. At the same time we are able to cultivate compassion for all those in the world who also feel overwhelmed by fear. And rather than becoming caught in our fear, we can recognize it as part of the tapestry of life that also includes success, joy, courage, compassion, love and expansiveness.

Of course frightening things do happen and fear arises as a natural response. Many people – maybe even a neighbor or a friend – live with a real threat of physical harm, sometimes from the very people who are supposed to care for them. For them, vigilance is necessary until a safer environment is possible. Recognizing our own fear and feeling compassion for the fear of others we might see opportunities to help those who suffer from the constant threat of physical harm. From the yogic perspective, the body is not the totality of who we are, and its destruction does not mean our annihilation. But even from this perspective, death or harm of the physical body is one of the last & most difficult fears to be released – and for the sake of human survival, I’d say thankfully so.

For many of us who have the blessing of living in physically safe circumstances, however, this fear of harm still exists – though perhaps on an unconscious level. Often, regardless of contradictory evidence, there is the fear that we are unable to handle life’s challenges as they arise. At a deep level there is the fear that the threat will lead to death of some kind: “Oh my God, if that happened, I’d just die!” or “It would kill me to not get everything done.” Though we might express it casually in words, this is often not a conscious fear, and yogis would say that what is actually threatened is the “I” or the “ego” – our own perception of who we are, or how we think other people see us: If I don’t succeed, other people will think I’m a failure – or even worse, I might think that of myself; if I loose this job, maybe I’m not good enough to get another one; if I let go of blaming someone else for my fears, I’ll have to take responsibility for my life…

Years ago I got really tired of being afraid all the time. I was tired of always feeling powerless in the face of life’s challenges. Though fear or itself isn’t “bad,” I doubt anyone would claim it as their favorite emotion! Living from a place of fear can feel like being in prison, knowing you have the key, but still unable to leave. So I sat down and made a list of all my fears and prioritized the list based on level of difficulty. Just the act of naming the fears and making the choice to do something about them diffused some of their power over me. Putting them on paper gave me a chance to question their validity. Deciding to be rid of them offered the possibility that they could be temporary.

Yoga and meditation continue to help with this effort. Strengthening my body, working with the chakras, noticing the ways that I hold fear in my body and learning tools to work with this held energy have also been very helpful. Meditation helped me recognize the difference between presence and avoidance and acknowledge the fleeting nature of emotions. It has also helped to cultivate a witness consciousness – the willingness to view the rise and fall of emotions from a place of stillness and choose whether to stay “caught up” in them or let them go.

I believe that once you decide to go on an adventure like this, the Universe (God, Source, Higher Self, whatever words you use) supports your intention and the help comes in ways you might not have expected – a chance word, an article in the paper, a book suggestion from a friend or an ad that jumps off the page. Of course it takes courage to acknowledge your fears, and sometimes your hands will shake and your heart will pound as you decide to “just do it.” Fear arises, but since we’re here (on the planet in these bodies), why not explore the possibility that just as a smile passes, fears could pass too – if we let them?

May you be healthy. May you be happy. May you live with ease.

Bringing the shadows into the light

I’ve been scared of the dark ever since I was a child. As an adult I used to be embarrassed to talk about it – a childhood fear that should have long been overcome. Yet, bringing this fear into the open was less embarrassing that I thought – actually nobody seemed to really care. Exposing the fear to the light of day also gave me a chance to explore it rather than hiding it away. What I discovered was that I actually wasn’t afraid of the darkness itself, but of what might be lurking in it. I imagined strange and threatening creatures – monsters against whom I would be powerless. Discussing this fear with others and working on it through various means I’ve come to realize that the shadow, the demon that I was most afraid of discovering in the dark, was myself.

I was gifted recently with a link to a wonderful excerpt from Osho (The Spiritually Incorrect Mystic) called Greatest Fear of All. Osho’s words always stir up for me some uncomfortable but simple truth. In this excerpt he says: “The greatest fear in the world is of the opinions of others. And the moment you are unafraid of the crowd you are no longer a sheep, you become a lion. A great roar arises in your heart, the roar of freedom. Buddha has actually called it the lion’s roar. When a man reaches an absolutely silent state he roars like a lion.”

As I read the article I began to wonder. What is it that we’re really afraid of? Through my own work and working with others, it’s clear to me that there is always the deeper fear beneath the one we’re willing to admit to. I wondered – is it that we actually fear discovering our own selves?

Sakyong Mipham pointed out in “Turning the Mind Into an Ally” that we spend most of our time thinking about ourselves. Yet the thoughts we’re thinking about ourselves are not usually compassionate, complimentary or generous. Even the habitual ways we react to our own behavior can be so hateful. We get into the habit of scolding ourselves for minor ‘failures.’ Off-handed statements like “I’m such an idiot” or “I’m such a clutz” become unconscious habits that create impressions in the shadows of our minds. Then in our interactions with others, a fear arises. Maybe on some level we know the imprint is there, and maybe we’re afraid that it will be brought into the light of day and confirmed as truth. Maybe our greatest fear is actually of meeting ourselves and not liking who we are.

But what if meeting yourself could be liberating instead of terrifying? In yoga we frequently talk about samskaras – latent impressions that influence the way we think and behave. It is sometimes described like spinning on a wheel – you can’t get off the wheel because you’re controlled by these unconscious impressions. So you relive the same story over and over again, not knowing how to change it. And still these impressions, these habits are constantly being reinforced through lack of mindful awareness and, I think, through the fear of seeing ourselves clearly. To get off the wheel we have to see these habits for what they are – our own shadows in the darkness. Brought to the light of day they have very little substance. Left in the darkness they are monsters keeping us on the wheel and away from a full appreciation of ourselves.

From Resistance to Appreciation

Yesterday I took my 4 year old daughter son and 9 year old to my meditation teacher training. I couldn’t find a babysitter and my teacher was gracious enough to suggest bringing them and letting them stay in a room close to our meeting room. Her suggestion brought an immediate feeling of resistance and fear.

For some parents the thought of bringing their kids is a non-issue, but not so for me with my disciplined Caribbean upbringing. I had visions of my daughter laughing out loud in the middle of a meditation segment; of people in the class being annoyed by these pesky kids; of having to constantly leave class to attend to them or quiet them down; of them trashing the room they were staying in and in the end of my teacher being displeased with them being there.

Ah, the workings of the mind and the scenarios it creates to reinforce its resistance! None of these fears were justified! My children, though they can be raucous and challenging at home are generally very well behaved in public. The class is full of other parents and gentle, loving souls who might actually enjoy the sound of a child’s laughter in the midst of their meditation. And my teacher suggested I bring them! So the fear, like most fears, was not logical at all. In fact when examined closely, it was a manifestation of the ego worrying: “What will people think of me?” So of course I had to take them! I also didn’t want to miss the lecture on Chapters 7 & 8 of the Bhagavad Gita (definitely worth reading if you haven’t already!).

Amazingly enough, pushing through my fear actually helped me appreciate my kids even more. Neither one complained when I explained what was going to happen. My son did a wonderful job of monitoring and helping his sister. They occupied themselves with the activities we brought, and he was very quiet the two times he did need to come and get me. We had to leave early to take him to soccer (especially since we were bringing snacks!) and he kept track of the time so that he changed into his soccer gear before we had to leave. My daughter made lots of little foam crafts and cleaned up all her scraps. She had pretty much reached her limit by the time we had to leave (in the middle of the lecture), but still they were both very considerate of being quiet as we left.

Later that day after soccer, my daughter handed me a juice pack and straw, and sweetly asked: “Mommy, would you help me with this please?” In that moment I recognized again the sweetness of their presence in my life. Even though there might be actual (rather than fear-imposed) limits to what I am able to do as a result of having to care for them, they are such beautiful beings and I am so blessed to know, love and be loved by them.

Happy Earth Day! (We are that)

Happy Earth Day!! It seems a little ridiculous to say I love the Earth. After all, without Earth where would this body live? What would this body eat? Where would this body find a beach to lay on or a garden to dig in? Perhaps there are a million other habitable planets where I could have incarnated, but for this lifetime, at least, Earth is where this body lives. And it’s a gorgeous planet! Even with frozen ears walking my daughter to school this morning (40°F here in Chi) it was hard to avoid the beauty of this place I call home: the newly flowering trees; the sun brilliantly illuminating and gently warming; a robin picking at a worm (I do hope those things don’t have well developed nervous systems – that robin was picking it off piece by piece – yikes!); our favorite red-winged blackbird singing it’s glorious song in it’s favorite tree; a duck with its head tucked under its wing standing by a mud “pond” left from a mound of melted snow; majestic swamp white oaks… And to top it all off, all those amazing humans making their way about.

We are Nature! When did we forget that? We talk about being in Nature, or observing Nature, or balancing the ecosystem, or protecting the Environment, but somehow these minds that have created so much separation have not only separated us from each other, but from the very stuff of that we are. Is a tree “in Nature”? Does Alex the bunny who lives in my backyard think he’s “in Nature”? No! He’s just part of the whole thing. Chicago’s motto is Urbs in Horto (the city in a garden) so we have lots of trees and green space. It’s so refreshing to walk outside, and see flowers and look at the sky, because there’s a sense of connection that comes almost automatically – a deep “ahh” – a coming home.

This Earth Day let’s celebrate ourselves as Nature with all its expansive amazingness. So when we care for our Earth, we’re caring for ourselves. And when we care for ourselves, we’re taking care of all of Nature.

Here’s an easy way to send some love to ourselves for 2 minutes.

Namaste ☺

The gift of a smile

My facebook status yesterday read: Francine Kelley is wondering why it is so hard for people to acknowledge each other when we walk down the street. Is it fear? Disinterest? How do we choose who we acknowledge and who we don’t? Which strangers are “okay?” Just wondering….

I used to be one of the people who walks down the street with blinders on, making sure to not catch anyone’s eye. I grew up in Jamaica where a woman walking on the street automatically became the subject of commentary from the men along the road. I remember living in Brooklyn in the early ‘90s and living in mortal fear of similar comments. So I did a pretty good job of becoming ‘invisible’ by not looking anyone in the face and by developing a posture that said “leave me the heck alone.” This stance wasn’t really to protect me from potential physical harm, but from the possibility of public humiliation. My self esteem didn’t feel up to the challenge.

My husband often teases me that I kept that “tough” stance even after moving to this laid-back midwestern town (Chicago!). I was actually shocked on first moving here when the bus driver smiled and said “good morning” as I got on the bus. At first I wasn’t sure how to respond! Nowadays I’m one of those people who smiles and says “Good morning!” to strangers walking down the street. These strangers occasionally appear surprised (maybe they’re from Brooklyn?), others respond with varying levels of enthusiasm. The most fascinating to me, however, are the ones who don’t look at me at all – not the ones who are oblivious (I know I’m not so impressive as to draw everyone’s attention!), but the ones who seem to be making an effort to not look, or the ones who look away after “hello.”

One comment to my Facebook status was that “being polite and friendly seems to be a thing of the past.” The thing about politeness is that it gave us a structure for rules of engagement. Is it that now, without that structure, we no longer have rules by which to interact – and so we don’t? Or is it that we just don’t feel safe connecting with each other – either due to fear of physical harm or public humiliation? Maybe it is the loss of community – the sense of strangers as “other” and therefore either dangerous or insignificant? Maybe our cell phones & mp3 players give us a way to become even more distant and self-absorbed? Maybe it is all these things – maybe none.

Years ago I read an email that was circulating about a boy who was about to commit suicide until a stranger helped him pick up a stack of books he had dropped. The moral of course was that a simple act of kindness can change the trajectory of someone’s life, and even save it. If you smile at someone walking down the street – is it possible that might be the only smile she sees that day? If you catch the eye of someone waiting at the bus stop, what would be the harm in smiling before going back to listening to your iPod? I realize I can’t control whether people look at me to receive my smile – a small gift of love to a stranger, an acknowledgement of our shared humanity. But if I pass someone who can’t or won’t look at me, for whatever reason, I can still send a smile from my heart by wishing for them: “May you have joy, peace and happiness, today and always.” And since we are not separate, this smile blesses me with love, as it blesses them.

So, I’m curious – do you smile a strangers or allow yourself to be smiled at? Why? If not, why not? What would happen if we all started offering the gift of a smile to strangers (and therefore to ourselves)?

Namaste.

I love yoga

I love yoga! I really do. How wonderful to be able to move body, mind, and energy in this sometimes synchronous, sometimes challenging, but always fascinating dance of Life. And how wonderful that ancient yogis thousands of years ago shared wisdom that is still relevant in our crazy and mesmerizing modern world! Getting on my mat is like coming home to myself – a visit with a good friend who has never left me even when I was neglectful. Yoga has helped me to befriend myself.

I mentioned in class this morning that it is truly amazing that any of us are here. If you think about all the planets in the Universe and all the different factors that have had to happen for you to be sitting in front of your computer at this moment reading these words, it is mind-blowing. Just the wonder of the body itself, heart beating, lungs breathing, liver cleansing, stomach churning, blood flowing, eyes seeing, nerves firing, brain processing – water, fire, air and earth united in this amazingly complex symphony that is a human body. Wow.

These past few weeks I’ve been gifted with an awareness of how much my view of the world has changed since committing to yoga teacher training in 2003. When I started that training I didn’t think of myself as a strong person or of my body as a strong body. There were poses that felt torturous and I was pretty commited to my story. Never athletic as a child, I danced semi-professionally for a few years after college but it was always with a sense that I wasn’t quite up to the standards of all the other bodies in the studio or on the stage – not strong enough, balanced enough, grounded enough. committed enough, trained enough… That was the gist of my story – “not good enough.”

The consistent application of the principles and practices of yoga, as well as other wonderful practices & teachers that have crossed my path has helped me to see that story for what it is. Just a story. A body that once was seen as weak now feels strong and grounded. A mind that was stuck in the groove of a limiting story is open to new possibilities. Beyond even that though, is the sense that none of that even matters, because what is here now is enough. If I never do a handstand without the support of the wall, this body, this breath, this life, will be no less amazing – and it won’t be any better if I do (though that would be really fun!).

For me, the story of “not enough” is still sometimes present, but I can sooner see it as a story – the mind’s way of (as my Akashic Records said) “concerning itself with matters beyond its jurisdiction.” Instead of the story being in control, I can let the story be, or let it go. It is also interesting to notice the other stories rising to the surface of awareness.

The journey becomes even more amazing when you realize there’s nowhere to go. This body, this breath, this moment is what we have to work with. If we keep waiting for some time in the future when it will be better, when we will become more wonderful due to all our efforts, or due to chance, we will miss the magic that is happening now. I’m not sure we can become more present, but I think we can be more aware – more mindful.

Just now. Just this. Fascinating.

A ghost in the house – shaking up the “I”

I’m working on trying to be brief and use less words – let’s see how I do…

Last October I asked my Akashic Records how I could live from a place of deeper clarity. The answer was surprising: “Be willing to be wrong – about everything.” What?! I had to ask for clarification. The reply: “Being willing to be wrong doesn’t mean you are wrong. It means you give up the need to be right, which is holding you back. It means shaky ground… Release the need to be right.” All my life I’d seen knowledge as a reinforcer of my worth. Being wrong was to be avoided at all cost. But what the heck, I was intrigued. Besides, I could always go back to being right if it didn’t work out. What I got was a big surprise. As I let go of the need to be right, something shifted inside. It was like when you’ve eaten too much and then you loosen the button on your pants – relief! I understood it later as being freed from the constant effort to protect and reinforce my “I.”

Sutra II of the Yoga Sutras describe the five klesas as the sources of our discontent, the obstacles to freedom. The klesas are: avidya, or not knowing our true nature as beingness or oneness; asmita – identification as “I,” “me” or “my”; raga – desire for pleausre; dvesa – aversion or avoidance of pain; and abhinevesa – fear of death. When I first read this sutra and the notion of the identified “I” as being problematic, I thought that was ridiculous (those crazy cave-dwelling yogis – what would they know about real life?!). After all, who would I be without a sense of my own individuality? If I let go of that I’d be left with nothing – I wouldn’t exist! At the very least it seemed to me a prescription for mental instability. I didn’t realize that even that resistance was the manifestation of this “I.”

Dzigar Kongtrul in his book It’s Up to You suggests: “This mind that we identify as the self, which we could call ego-mind, controls everything we do. Yet it can’t actually be found – which is somewhat spooky, as if a ghost were managing our home.” Michael Stone in The Inner Tradition of Yoga describes asmita as a storyteller, and the stories as a rubber band ball, wrapped around and around with more and expanding preconceptions about ourselves. Even when these stories cause us suffering and separation, we still hold on because we identify them as who we are. A Course In Miracles Lesson 69 begins: “My grievances hide the light of the world in me. My grievances show me what is not there, and hide from me what I would see. Recognizing this, what do I want my grievances for? They keep me in darkness and hide the light…”

So last month when I decided it was okay to be me, I found she was very elusive – like mercury, hard to pin down. At the same time I found the klesas. Ah the humor of it all. It’s been fascinating – sometimes funny, and sometimes really unpleasant – to recognize the storyteller arising, especially when I’m wanting to be right, or in control. I often recognize my “I” when it is acting up as a shadow that when noticed and acknowledged, shifts slightly to the left to reveal a sliver of light behind. A long exhale follows, a tightness releases in my chest, and in that moment, I can allow.

Giving up the quest: Lessons in being present

A journey of a thousand miles can be altered by a single step. Most often, we don’t choose the steps that alter our trajectory – a chance meeting, a phrase absently spoken by a stranger, a quote remembered, something interesting that your partner stops to watch on TV. Sometimes you end up in a place where so many steps have converged that you can’t even remember where it started, or which one was the defining step. My wonderful teacher Billie Topa Tate says in her Loving Kindness Meditation: “All that I have done. All that has been done to me… has brought me to this sacred space in time.” And so it is!

Just before Christmas my husband got to a TV program he thought I’d enjoy. It was a comedienne who had become an atheist talking about the journey that had led her there. This I would enjoy? It turns out she was funny and I could relate to a lot of her issues with the Bible, the established Church, and even the New Age movement. What was most disturbing to me, though, was that in her conclusion she mentioned how free she felt after giving up the notion of “God.” I was so envious of her. I could feeling a small sense of her relief, and it was at the same time intriguing and frightening. You mean I’d have to give up God to be “free!?”

The yoga sutras talk about kaivalya – which is translated as liberation or freedom. I used to think that the key to my liberation (enlightenment if you will) was hidden in all that ancient knowledge. Somehow, if I knew more, studied more, practiced more, I would find the cure to this longing that, it seems, had always been here. Years ago I got angry at my husband because he said that all those books weren’t going to tell me what I needed to know. He said all the answers I needed were inside me. This week, and I guess through a series of steps over a lifetime, it has become clear to me that knowing more, learning more, or doing more will not get the answers I’ve been seeking.

As much as I hate to admit it (and I hope he never reads this entry!) my husband’s assessment was pretty accurate. It’s not that the knowledge in all these books I’ve read has not been helpful – a lot of it has been very helpful to me and to my clients and students. What I found, though, is that the more I read and the more classes I took, the more I realized I didn’t know and the more inadequate I felt. If gaining knowledge was the source of my salvation, then salvation was a long way away. Maybe I was broken beyond repair. Maybe there wasn’t enough time in this lifetime to get all the information I really needed. There was definitely no way I could read all those books on the shelf and the entire Sounds True and Hay House catalogs and all the books of esoteric knowledge yet to be purchased on Amazon.com. I realized that this collecting of knowledge had become a different kind of consumerism and that the void wasn’t being filled, it was only getting bigger. Maybe it was time to stop. That was the beginning of peace.

Everything can change in a minute. And then you realize that its been changing all along without you realizing – and that nothing changed at all. Thanks to a series of fascinating events I finally allowed myself this week to risk accepting the notion that I was never broken in the first place. I met my Self seemingly for the first time, and found she was delightful. There was nothing to look for, no more seeking necessary. This very place, this very me, is wonderful. How did I not realize this before when other people kept telling me? Because despite teaching about living in the present, I had been living in the future, constantly longing for a time when I would be fixed, perfect, realized. As long as I thought of myself as needing to be more, I always perceived myself as not enough. It was a subtle realization, prompted by the wise & loving words of others spoken at just the right time so that I could actually hear, and the refrain of my “higher self” repeating over and over Zora Neale Hurston’s famous quote “I love myself when I am laughing, and then again when I am feeling mean and impressive.” It’s a small shift and a big shift, and it has changed my world – but the me that was me is still the same me. It’s just now that’s okay.