Peace Archives - Francine Kelley, LCPC, SEP, RYT500

I laugh on my yoga mat. (Really, I do!)

Do not kill the instinct of the body for the glory of the pose. Do not look at your body like a stranger but adopt a friendly approach towards it. Watch it, listen to it, observe its needs, its requests, and even have fun. To be sensitive is to be alive…

To twist, stretch, and move around, is pleasant and enjoyable, a body holiday.

There is an unexpected delight in meeting earth and sky at the same moment!

-Vanda Scaravelli in Awakening the Spine

My last post described yoga as a feeling practice. When I read this quote by Vanda Scaravelli many years ago it resonated deeply, and I began to explore the idea of the practice being “an unexpected delight.” The result is that my yoga mat has become a really fun place to be. A place to be tired and energized; a place to be terrified and gleeful; a place to struggle and a place to find ease; a place to laugh.

Peter Levine, who developed Somatic Experiencing, says you can’t be curious and traumatized at the same time. And what is that if not the yogic principle of self-study (svadhyaya) combined with santosha (being with what is)? So for me, engaging curiosity on the mat has meant noticing what feels freeing and what feels constricting. The magic unfolds on my mat as I get curious about what feels right versus what is an imposed should – an external idea of how my body should be. Where is the prana (life energy) moving freely, where is it not, and how can I allow it to be free?

Every summer, in Chicago, I teach yoga to girls from West Africa who are in the US as part of Expanding Lives, an amazing leadership and empowerment program for young women. The girls have a blast on their yoga mats. They groan and exclaim when a pose is hard, they sigh and smile when it feels good, they bliss out when we’re “just breathing.” They have no sense that they should be serious and self-contained, so they just experience the practice.

When I started letting go of the shoulds on my mat, I began to also experience my practice as fun! Instead of struggling to make a difficult pose “right,” I decided to get curious and relax, and often the pose would feel better and a smile would spontaneously emerge. Eventually I chose to smile rather than struggle, and before I knew it I was laughing from the sheer joy of moving my body in space (or even just holding still).

Sometimes I laugh because it’s hard! It’s exhilarating to be able to hold a pose until my muscles shake and my heart beats fast – listening for when my body says “Ok my dear, that’s quite enough.” My heart delights at the lyricism of a slow vinyasa. It’s fun to fall out of a balance pose, giggling like I did as a kid. It’s exquisite sensory bliss to lay in savasana (the rest pose at the end of class) with yoni mudra (a hand position) over my navel and feel prana move.

The body is a sensory instrument. How much we miss when we don’t befriend it.

I do have to admit it’s a bit of a challenge in group classes – I have to giggle softly to myself or risk disturbing the class. I’m told I have a particular way of laughing, so busting out in class the way I do sometimes on my mat at home might not be appreciated. I’m not suggesting we turn group classes into a free-for-all, but this holiday season, I wish for you that your practice can be a “body holiday.”

Do you laugh on your yoga mat?

Namaste.

Are you feeling your yoga? Or just thinking about it?

Many years ago I met a yoga teacher who said that “yoga is a feeling practice.” That resonated with me, and at the time I realized that I was only feeling my practice some of the time. The rest of the time I was so involved with my thoughts that I was barely present with what my body was experiencing until my muscles started to protest.

On Thanksgiving this year I had the rare opportunity to spend the day alone and in silence. No talking. And the first thing I noticed was how much time and energy I spend thinking. So many words! Planning, contemplating, analyzing, theorizing, prognosticating about what other people might be thinking… On a silent retreat I wanted silence, but my mind had other ideas.

The endless rambling of the mind is easy to get caught up in, and for a lot of people, this constant spinning of the mind is what causes the bulk of their anxiety. Don’t get me wrong – we want the mind to be able to do the work it needs to do, but when it is just spinning in circles and causing anxiety, that is not effective.

The same thing can happen in our yoga practice. We may be moving our bodies, but our minds may be miles away in space or in time – or we may be judging ourselves. We end up doing the practice for its residual effects, missing out on the experience each pose can generate. Or, we move our bodies around with little regard for what the body is telling us it needs – we aren’t actually listening or collaborating with our bodies.

In any given moment, thinking is accompanied by our sensory experience. The physical body is a sensory instrument. Sights, sounds, smells, sensations on our skin, all this is happening at this very moment – even as you’re reading these words. Can you feel your fingers touching whatever they are now touching? What are you hearing at this moment? What are you smelling? What do you see with your actual eyes (versus your internal landscape)? What emotions arise as you pay attention to your senses?

On the yoga mat, while in a pose or even while resting, what do you experience with your sense of touch? What do you hear, see, smell, sense, feel? What is the immediate experience of now? How does it feel to be present here and now? Very often, when we come back to the present moment, we actually feel more relaxed, more “here.” When we quiet the endless rambling of the mind, we have a chance to experience what is actually ok in the present moment.

If the mind really wants to get involved, you might occupy it with the question: “Is this pleasant or unpleasant?” or “What feels good about this pose?” Let the mind be in service to the experience rather than spiraling out with judgments, shoulds, associations, plans or other elements that aren’t directly related to the experience you’re having now. Of course that spiraling might still happen, and you have the choice to follow, or to do something different. Instead of jumping on the “thought train,” you could acknowledge the mind, give thanks that it can do what it does, and then gently direct your attention back to the sensory experience of the moment.

Who knows? You may begin to notice that your yoga practice actually feels good. Before you know it, you might find yourself smiling or even laughing on your mat. (Yes, that’s allowed!)

Namaste.

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.

What is your net effect?

A recent conversation about activism and self-righteous anger has got me thinking about how we really make change in the world. Many of us are “working on ourselves,” and at the same time, trying to make a difference in the world around us. As activists we are attempting to change the societal structures which promote inequity and injustice, to raise our children to be conscious and compassionate, to encourage our politicians & legislators to incorporate fairness and equity into our governmental systems. This can be frustrating work, bringing us face-to-face with opposition, rejection, skepticism and even abuse from people who would rather things stay the way they are. Sometimes in the midst of all this struggle, we can become judgmental and angry at the world and the people in it who seem reluctant to “see the light.” I have begun to wonder, if we do all the work we can toward making the world a better place, but do it from a place of anger, judgment and self-righteousness, what kind of change are we really affecting? Do we in effect cancel out any good we’ve done? Do we end up with a net effect of zero?

I’ve been reading Thich Nhat Hahn’s books as required reading for a meditation teacher training with the Elesa Commerse, and his work has me thinking about how much activism in the world must be combined with a deep self-inquiry and mindfulness. If our ultimate goal is peace and harmony for humanity, then the very notion of “fighting” for something is incongruent. Fighting implies aggression, and aggression may result in surrender and domination, but these are not the same as peace. Anger met with anger breeds more anger. Aggression met with aggression results in more aggression. Judgment of another feeds a sense of separation. Besides the obvious effect on others, anger, aggression and judgment also constrict the individual who is expressing them.

In his book “Anger” Thich Nhat Hahn describes the chain of effects that occurs when one person acts out their anger. I yell at you, you carry your anger to the next person who upsets you and yell at them, then they act angrily toward someone else, and pretty soon your anger has multiplied itself – grown wings and launched itself into the world. Am I saying you should hold it in and allow it to burn you up? Not at all. There is a middle way – mindfully and compassionately acknowledging your anger, making friends with it if you will, and allowing it the space to exist as a valid emotion so that you can learn from it without needing to direct it at others. Then you can release it, just let it go. Emotions can be very deceiving, and anger is often a way of resisting that within you which needs to be welcomed, acknowledged and released. Our anger toward others is most often the projection of anger toward ourselves. Taken as a mirror, the object of our anger can be a valuable teacher.

I’ve heard people say that anger is a good thing. For myself I know it isn’t. When I’m angry my perspective constricts, I stop being reasonable and I become caught in what the yogis call “asmita” – a pre-occupation with “I,” “me,” and “mine.” In essence, when I’m angry it’s all about me. I have no desire to see the other person’s point of view or even to think of them as deserving a point of view. In fact, I have no patience for anyone at all. Moreover, this anger blinds me to the fact that what has made me angry is probably the reflection of some issue or trigger within me that needs to be compassionately addressed. When I’m angry there is very little room for reason or compassion. Beyond this, I can feel that it is a state that is not good for my body – I feel a crawling sensation on the skin of my neck, my breathing becomes shallow and I feel my blood pressure rising. Therefore, in this state, not only am I at risk of hurting others through my words and deeds, but I am also limiting and hurting myself and creating unnecessary suffering.

The Universal Law of Resistance states that you attract that which you resist. This is also consistent with the premise that “energy flows where attention goes.” If we are constantly focused on that which we oppose then we are actually allowing it to have a hold on us and feeding it energy. How often are we in opposition to something without creating an equally strong vision of what it is we are for? As a simple example, I think of working personally on being less judgmental. I tried to be less judgmental, but every I’d find myself being judgmental my mental noise would be something like this: “Oh, I’m being judgmental again, that’s terrible, I have to stop that!” So I judging myself for being judgmental! Rather than being opposed to my judgmental-ness, I see my judgment as an opportunity to see myself in that person, to practice being compassionate and understanding. In the end, this is really what I want – not to be less judgmental, but to be more understanding.

So back to this notion of net effect. A Course In Miracles teaches that whatever affects us most in the world outside is a reflection of our deeper inner self that is in need of healing. As we work with our causes can we use that which we oppose as mirrors of our own processes? If we are opposed to political aggression against the opposition, can this be a mirror to the ways in which we are aggressive or opinionated in our own ways of dealing with others? In our willingness to heal the world, can we be also conscious of the need to care for our own inner wounds? Sometimes this is the hardest work – to see ourselves honestly and with compassion. It is easier to deny that which is in us and fight against it in the world. If you believe, however, that we are all somehow connected, then that fight is actually still against ourselves. All the work in the world outside will bring only superficial change if the inner self still has not been changed. Perhaps if we were all willing to face our inner selves with courage and compassion there would be no need to “fight” for anything at all.

Letting Go – In The Present

I have some of my best insights in the shower. Recently I’ve been thinking about my own resistance and this morning in the shower it came to me that our views about the future are shaped by experiences in the past, but we can only work to overcome any of that it in the present. Not rocket science, I’ve read Eckhart Tolle too, but I’d never stated this fact so simply in my own mind.

We talk all the time about letting go of the past, but how can you let go of something that has already happened? Really all you can work with is the residue of the past that still exists in the present. That said, some of that residue can feel pretty darn close to the original experience. As an example, you’re having a memory of a car accident, and it brings up anxiety, fear, maybe even panic. That anxiety exists now. Yes, it comes from a memory of something that happened in the past, but it is the present experience that colors your reality now. This is the only thing that you can really work with. The past is over, the future hasn’t yet happened. All we can really explore is our present experience.

Sometimes the way we remember and therefore experience an event now is not even the same as what happened in the past. That is why trying to let go of the past through “understanding the past” is not always effective. If anything needs to be “understood” it is the present experience, and even then, ‘understanding’ tends to be an analysis we do in our heads, and this process can also prevent us from really being present with the experience. The yogis talk about samskaras – the latent impressions (scars if you will) that influence our perceptions in the present. The more mindful we can become of our present experience, the more likely that these samskaras can be recognized and released.

There are so many ways that we resist or avoid our present moment experience. I personally have a tendency to dissociate into my head by thinking and analyzing – trying to ‘understand’ the experience – essentially making up a story about it. Or I might close my eyes and dissociate inside by blocking out the world outside. Another way is to deflect the intensity of the experience by blaming someone else (another story), or to escape into a distraction. Computers, TVs, cell phones, mp3 players –all these gadgets can provide us with distractions and allow us to separate from being mindful of what we are experiencing in the ‘real world.’ Addictions can be born of the constant need to separate from what might be a painful emotional experience of the present. The past is not what is being avoided, but the experience that lives now.

The future is shaped by the past through our continued experience of the present. The future can be shaped by the past through our continued avoidance of the present. Pema Chodron talks about the baby bird in the nest and the nest is getting dirty but the bird won’t fly out. Look around baby bird, it’s time to fly.

Being In the Flow

Ever since I first heard of “going with the flow” as a girl, I’ve known that is what I want. As a child I imagined a cosmic river and me riding on it – no boat – just me and this flow. Intuitively I sensed the power of this state – a glimmer of the bliss that must ensue from this total surrender. But even then, just the thought of riding this wave with total surrender was as terrifying as it was beguiling.

As an adult I realize that my life thus far has been a search for this place of letting go. It seems the more I read that all the esoteric teachings point to the same truth – this letting go is not a giving up, but a returning to the source of what we already are. So then why is it so darn scary to me? And if not scary, then definitely elusive. (I can only speak for myself – but I’m guessing I’m not the only one who feels this way…?).

Perhaps my fear has to do with viewing the whole thing as a quantum leap from Here to There. Instead, maybe I need to just be taking it in smaller increments. Like maybe if I can give up today my attachment to my opinions by not judging another person’s actions, then I’m moving a little more into the Flow. Maybe if I can give up my worry about one small thing and instead trust that it will be taken care of, I’m moving a little more into the Flow. Maybe if I can be open to the wisdom that comes from a bumper sticker in traffic or the answer that pops off the page of an already-opened book, then I’m moving a little more into the Flow. Maybe if I can give thanks for a chance meeting with an old friend, or a new friend, then I’m moving a little more into the Flow. Maybe I’m already more in the Flow than I thought… maybe it isn’t something to achieve, but a state being more aware of what already is. Hmmm.

Making space

I remember years ago, after I had been consistently meditating for some weeks, getting into an argument with my husband. As I was loudly and energetically extolling the reasons why I was right and he was delusional, a calm – almost bemused – voice in the back of my head commented “You know, you could just stop this now if you decided to.” Ah the wisdom of the Witness Consciousness and the magic of meditation.

What was I arguing about before this little incident occurred? Truthfully I’ve not a clue. The only thing I remember is that voice in my head, because that was the one moment when I was truly present. Prior to that moment I was most likely acting out of emotion: anger, resentment, self-righteousness, fear – all the things that make it impossible to communicate effectively. In that moment when my Observing Self came online, though, I was there. And being there I was able to see the absurdity of being carried away by my emotions.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that emotions are bad. It’s just that they’re not terribly reliable or effective lenses for viewing the world. When we are in our emotional selves we’re not usually thinking from a place of wisdom. But if this dual consciousness is online, we can see ourselves through a clearer lens and make choices about how to respond. It is possible, for example to step into the space between someone’s action toward you and your response and in that space, make the choice about how to respond. How many times have we said: “I couldn’t help [my actions], s/he made me mad.” Really what we should be saying is, “She did something to which I chose to respond with anger.” It just happened so fast that you gave up control over your actions, and then blamed the other person for your choice.

Meditation helps us to find that space in which to make the choice not to give ourselves over to the whims of others, the space to take responsibility for our own emotional states and responses and stop blaming other people for our emotions. In that space is where the real work begins – the work of chosing who you are going to be when you can’t pass the blame anymore.

The World We See

I remember clearly part of the first conversation I had with my (now) husband, over a decade ago. He said that humanity was more peaceful, and more supported now than it had been in previous history. This assertion blew my mind. I had bought into the notion of “the good old days,” which we seem to fall into, even in the absence of evidence to the affirmative. My husband pointed out that the world historically had been more savage, and life more difficult with less ammenities. Therefore, he concluded, humanity was actually better off now than we ever had been and things were getting better all the time. (I might add that I call my husband a “pathalogical optimist!”).

I had to really stretch to wrap my mind around this idea of human progress. After all, there were still wars, still racism, still poverty, still uncurable illnesses. To accept that his opinion could be valid meant I had to change the way I thought about things — change my perspective. I can still remember the feeling in my head when I tried to do that. It felt as if my brain had to change to accommodate this alternatiave perspective.

Tonight I was talking about some of the teachings around 2012. Rather than a portent of doom or gloom, it is seen by some as an opportunity for humanity to make some wonderful choices and to take an evolutionary leap. As such, humanity is evolving toward a higher state of consciousness. As I look around I see what seem to me to be signs of this progress. Yoga is everwhere; you can buy “chakra” aromatherapy items in the supermarket; I can talk about ‘energy’ and nobody thinks I’m crazy; my conservative Catholic mom is telling me about the Law of Attraction; we have a Black president with a powerful wife; crowds gathered in support of Obama’s anticipated victory in Chicago last November and people were nice to each other; the Internet has connected us to friends, relatives and strangers all over the planet.

There have been so many changes recently – structures breaking down, and hopefully new and more positive structures will take their place (as the 2012 pundits have anticipated). I meet so many people are working toward becoming better versions of themselves: more peaceful, more aware, less reactive. I know these people exist – I see them everyday. They are my friends, my clients, my students, my co-workers. They are courageous and commited human beings doing the deep soul-searching work to overcome their own limitations and limiting beliefs, and supporting others to do the same.

Sure, we can always find the dark clouds that obscure our silver lining view of the positive progression. But if the clouds and the silver lining both exist, isn’t it just a matter of figuring out what you want to focus on? I’ve found that recognizing the positives gives me the energy to go to work on the challenges that we still need to overcome. In no way am I ignoring that these negatives exist, but when that’s all you see on the news, it’s hard to accept or know that there is something else. But there is.

I believe that we are going to save our planet (and therefore ourselves). I believe that we have the capacity as a human race to do what we need to do so that the future is brighter for our children and for generations to come. I believe that we have so much more potential than we currently allow ourselves to experience. And I continue to believe that despite the news which tells us otherwise, we are living in a magical time.

Learning from each other

I told a good friend about the Winter Feast for the Soul and about my belief that we have to create the peace inside that we want to see manifest in the world. She responded that in her worldview, you can only create peace in relationship to others. Of course, I think we’re both on to something.

As I understand it, A Course In Miracles talks about the world as a projection of our own internal space. For example, when you meet someone who is really aggravating to you, there is a good chance that what you find aggravating in that person is actually present within you – but perhaps absent from your conscious awareness, or repressed. According to the Course, if we can forgive that grievance in the other, we can also forgive it within ourselves. Ultimately what that means to me is that our interactions with others provide rich fodder for exploring our own inner landscapes. Usually when someone touches off your hot buttons it is more about you than it is about them. Ultimately each charged interaction provides an opportunity to learn a new lesson about ourselves.

The marvelous thing (in my view) about this notion that the world reflects our inner space, is that the beauty that you acknowledge inside will also be reflected in our exterior world. Many years ago I went to a taping of an audio series by Carolyn Myss and Norm Shealy. One of the exercises was to think of some positive quality of yourself. I was floored. I couldn’t think of one positive quality. It took me weeks to think of something, and what I came up with was compassion. People who have always known me will probably say: “Come on, Francine! You had to know you had lots of positive qualities!” Well, it’s one thing what the outside world recognizes, and entirely another what a person will accept for themselves.

Pema Chodron in her book “When Things Fall Apart” talks about bodhichitta (awakened consciousness). She mentions that bodhichitta can start like a small hole in a dam that lets through a tiny trickle of water. That trickle eventually wears away at the wall until the whole thing comes tumbling down. For me, this small recognition of my one positive quality was like that small hole in the dam. After that I ended up through a series of “coincidences” starting my yoga teacher training, meeting my Reiki teacher and studying energy healing, and quitting my job to study counseling. From that one point of acknowledging my own worth, I find myself surrounded by amazing, enlightened, compassionate, conscious beings who bring me even further into awareness of the beauty that lies “out there.”

So while the challenges of the outside world teach us about ourselves, recognizing our own positive qualities can also lead us to be more open to attracing people who have those qualities into our lives. What is peace, after all, but opening to being more compassionate with yourself and with those around you?

Winter Feast for the Soul started on Thursday. You can join in anytime if you’re interested – As the organizer Valerie Skonie says, “Forty days is forty days.” You just start counting from one.

Releasing the Struggle

So here we are again at the start of another year (yay!). I’ve decided to set some goals for this year and to finally make a vision board to help me visualize those goals. But just so I don’t get overwhelmed, I’ve also decided to take it all one day at a time.

Dunno about you, but this whole Life thing can seem a little (or a lot) overwhelming sometimes. This year I turn 40, and I guess it has taken me this long to figure out that I can’t do everything at once, or do it all perfectly. It has also taken this long to really accept how much of my stress is just mental struggle. Really. The idea that something is going to be hard creates so much more heaviness and resistance than just letting go of the mental baggage and doing it!

For example, January 15 begins the Winter Feast for the Soul, described as “a 40-day worldwide spiritual practice period for people of all faiths everywhere.” (See more info below) Thousands of people all over the world joining together with the intention to grow our spirits and increase the peace in the world. When I first heard about it I thought: “This is so cool!” And my next thought was “40 minutes! Where can I find 40 more minutes every day!?” Mental anguish. Resistance. The antithesis of Peace! But I guess this Yoga thing must be working because my next thought was: “For heaven’s sake, just do it! You probably spend that much time on Facebook and email!” So, to my Facebook friends, after Jan 15 you’ll have to call me!

As a friend pointed out (on Facebook :-), we can approach this 40-day commitment (and all our commitments) with perfectionism and stress, or we can resolve to do the best we can. Maybe I won’t make 40 minutes every day. Maybe I’ll miss a day. But if I’m practicing peace that means being peaceful with myself by not beating myself up (the yogic practice of ahimsa – non harming). So much of peace has to do with letting go of our mental baggage, the samskaras that block our ability to view things as they really are. Through the practice of santosha (contentment) we let go of the stories we create and accept what is. It is a lifetime of practice – one day at a time.

This year, I hope to approach my resolutions with that same sense of peacefulness. I hope to recognize when I’m bringing mental stress into my goals and creating a struggle where it doesn’t need to be. I plan to let go of the mental baggage, and just do what needs to be done. If I fall, I’ll just get up and start again without giving up on the whole process or beating up on myself.

May your 2009 be filled with many, many wonderful moments. May even the sorrows and the disappointments be openings for Grace.