Recapturing My Blessings

So I started out this year, 2010, full of hope and excitement. Today is Wednesday, January SIXTH and I'm already faltering. I find it really interesting how quickly I can lose track of myself as I move through the experiences I'm creating. I feel SO scared and SO sad about what is in my near future.

Now, truthfully, I know that *I* am the creator of my reality. And, sadly, I've created a reality that is scary, difficult and lonely right now. And, at this point, I'm taking myself back to square one and CHOOSING to focus on the basics. It seems that, time and again, I've missed a few blocks in my foundation. Soooo... I start over. My building cannot stand on an unstable foundation and, as I'm crumbling down around myself, I'm realizing that sometimes foundations have to be completely dismantled before a long-standing structure can be built. Sometimes, even many, many times.

And, truth be known, the future isn't here and a lot can change between now and then. I know this. And I AM in the present. Right now. And in this moment, I CAN focus on what I'm blessed with...

I'm blessed with a room in my father's warm house wherein my daughter and I can sleep safely in a soft bed.
I'm blessed with a fully functioning body and a creative mind.
I'm blessed with the gift to hold space for large groups of people wherein we are focused on positive thoughts and transformation.
I'm blessed with artistic ability.
I'm blessed with knowing.
I'm blessed with a keen mind.
I'm blessed with a loving heart.
I'm blessed with a sharp eye.
I'm blessed with the gift of motherhood.
I'm blessed with a lot of people who love me.
I'm blessed with the ability to cry and laugh.
I'm blessed with a car that is runs well, gets good gas mileage and is fairly new.
I'm blessed with unemployment benefits.
I'm blessed with a few dollars in my wallet and a few in my checking account.
I'm blessed with this laptop and my father's WIFI.
I'm blessed with big lessons and big learnings and big stretches and big successes.
I'm blessed with the ability to breathe on my own.
I'm blessed with glimpses of what will be.
I'm blessed with a box of several sets of contacts so I won't run out for a long time.
I'm blessed with clothes that fit.
I'm blessed with the ability to walk, run, dance and leap.
I'm blessed with an amazing family.
I'm blessed with a cell phone.
I'm blessed with blankets and pillows and slippers.
I'm blessed with the privilege of a hot shower or bath.
I'm blessed with the ability to read and write.
I'm blessed with a passion to teach.
I'm blessed with all five (six) well-working senses.
I'm blessed with a few very close friends with whom I can be myself.
I'm blessed with an open heart.
I'm blessed with hair on my head and I usually like the way it looks.
I'm blessed with healthy breasts.
I'm blessed with the ability to rest and sleep well.
I'm blessed with BEING ALIVE!

I feel grateful.

Appreciation #164/365

*Witnessing the joy of my close friend. *Feeling my feelings in the moment. What an incredible skill I've learned! *Requesting and receiving support. *Feeling scared and brave at the same time. *Having the balls to tell the D.A. that I disagreed with his commitment to get a life sentence. *Knowing that I am a safe space for people. *Feeling love, radiating love, being love. -Grateful!

Grace in Small Things

In Continuation

All I'm clear on is that my essence is compassionate, thoughtful and caring. In the past, I had simply moved and acted with love, on the impulse of love. It was a true, innocent expression of what I felt for that person in that moment. When I met this friend seven years ago and he told me my thoughtfulness had "ulterior motives," suddenly, my world was tilted and any time I wanted to do for or say anything to him, I questioned myself. Suddenly my thoughtfulness had become something other than a pure expression of my love and I felt afraid and in that moment, I made him more right than me about who I am.

The saddest part about this tale is this... when I made that decision, I cut off one of the most beautiful aspects of who I am. Suddenly it wasn't okay to be a caring, loving person. With one statement, suddenly my entire life became a sham. And I shut away the tenderest part of me. I sometimes revert back to that innocent stage and leap at offering comfort out of the goodness of my heart but is more often than not received poorly and generally ends with me retreating with my blankey and spewing swear words.

Sooooo... what I'm wondering now is... when my essence has been deemed "bad" and "wrong" what the hell do I do? How do I break these shackles and release my innocence again? How do I trust my loving essence will be received with love?

Younger

For some reason, I feel compelled to write this here. No idea why. No idea where it's going....

A few of you have sent me love notes during the last few months and I have LOVED it! Some of you have texted, called and emailed me occasionally JUST to say HI. These small gestures mean more to me than I can put into words right now.

When I was younger, people commented frequently about how thoughtful I was and they were frequently impressed that I remembered the "little things" they would talk about and yearn for. I loved the opportunity to surprise someone with a loving thought or a little note. It was never anything really that big, just something to let them know they were loved by me. Usually it was well-received, sometimes even to the point of overflowing tears of gratitude, "How did you know I needed that right now?"

Most often, I didn't know how I knew. I had followed something inside of me that said, "Now is the time. Let them know you love them." I followed my impulses, sometimes the receiver was completely unaware of the giver and I would do something anonymously, without ever witnessing the response. Other times, I did something small or shared a tender word face to face.

This "thoughtfulness" was a natural inclination for me. For most of my life, with everyone in my life for whom I was "thoughtful" there was no return surprise and I was good with that. One day, I began to wonder... what would happen if I stopped being "thoughtful" for others? About the same time, I made friends with a young man who was completely taken aback by my thoughtfulness, scared by it actually. Never having experienced anything like it before, he scorned my thoughtfulness and said some things that hurt. And so I stopped it all with him and with everyone else. A little while ago, this same friend said to me, "I didn't realize what all those 'little things' meant to me until now. I really miss them." However, I couldn't find it in me to start sharing that side of me again.

As I write that, I'm reminded of a moment in our first Alumni class this year when I handed Mary a blanket after hearing her say she was cold. She took it from me and said, "Yeah, thanks. But I don't need a Hero."

"Fine then I'll take the fucking blanket back!" Was out of my mouth before I could stop it.

Oh... this is where I'm going.... to tears, apparently.

I understand what my withdrawal is about in this moment. If I withdraw and build up that wall, then NONE of you can hurt my tender heart. You can't piss on my thoughtfulness. You can't call me a Hero for following my impulse to comfort you. You can't tell me I'm incomplete and broken and stuck in the same shit because I! CAN'T! HEAR! YOU! from here. I understand that I'm hurting, physically and emotionally. I understand that I have withdrawn because I cannot tolerate drama. I'm withdrawing from you because I want to scream and judge and smack you silly sometimes. I'm withdrawn because I'm analyzing my every word and every move to make sure I'm sticking to the skills and using the proper language and breathing in the proper form and saying it right. My heart is broken and it feels like it has been broken longer than I can remember. I can't remember feeling completely healthy for years now. I fucking chose to LIVE goddammit instead of die when I could have and here. I. am.

Even now... I want to go back through and edit this to get rid of all the "you you you" talk. It is what it is.

I'm feeling angry. I'm feeling scared. And I am so fucking sad that I want to scream. AAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

A Breath and A Sigh

In appreciation for all the comment support and email support I received from my cyber friends, I send out a warm burst of love.

Today... I feel quiet and physically tired. I realize, now, just how strong I truly am. I am also aware of how much my body carried for others during this past week. My muscles feel as though I spent the entire week at a gym.

My life is a blessing to behold. I am grateful to be living it and to be witnessing the gifts that flow through my path. I am amazed by the journey from sadness to full happiness to gratitude to sadness. Part of being alive is actually feeling all that and I am grateful to say that I did. I am.

Blessed be, my friends. And, thank you so much!

Breathing, Living

I am alive.

Some days, I am still shocked by that awareness. Some days, I am amazed by what it feels like to actually BE ALIVE rather than simply existing. I remember back, just over a year ago, when I had no idea that I wasn't alive, all while thinking I was. My life today in comparison to my life then is such a stark contrast.

I feel sad. I feel happy. I feel angry. I feel scared. I feel sexual. I FEEL. All of those experiences are mine by divine right and design. I am a human being entitled to feeling. And opening myself up to that experience has created the most beautiful kind of magic indeed.

I am appreciating myself for creating this life and am aware that my posts are beginning to sound monotonously peppy and all "Love and Light". I figure, I gotta get it when the getting is good, ya know. I am going to wallow in this delicious happiness and aliveness. And I am going to share it here because, I fear, there will come a time when the giddy sensations of aliveness will give way to duldrums and misery. And, if that dark cloud descends, I will have a spot of brightness to which I can return to remind me that...

I

CREATE

MY

REALITY

Soooooo... with that in mind, I'm creating myself beautiful today. How about you?

Creativity First

With this mentoring program I am doing, there was an invitation set forth to the group which brought some fear and happiness to me all at the same time. That combo of feelings is so curious, by the way!

Gay suggested we make a commitment to put our creativity first. He gave us a suggestion about how the commitment could be worded and then asked it to make it fit ourselves. I came up with:

I commit to actively being in my creativity every day prior to doing my ordinary tasks.

There was such liberation in the moment that I landed that commitment. I felt excited and as though I had infinite possibilities. Then, I felt scared... what if I can't do it? What if there is just not enough time in the day to get everything else I need to also get done? I am already so busy, how am I going to find the time to do that?

I know, though, that it is possible.

I also realized one very important thing...

I am my creativity. It is my essence. Commiting to be in my essence before anything else each day puts myself first. I know that, when I do that, my life flows more smoothly and I am able to accomplish so much more than I thought I could do.

Visceral

Been thinking a lot about "visceral" stuff as of late. With all of the life/death/life up in my face the last week, I have chosen to be conscious about being alive, about what is going on in the guts of me.

My good friend is dying... the above video is in honor of her. According to her quiet reveal to me last night, it should be sometime Wednesday. I feel sad to see her go and oh so happy to have spent so much time with her over the last week. I feel blessed.

As I got ready to type this post, the Carpenters came on the stereo with Rainy Days and Mondays. It is one of my most favorite songs from my childhood. It comes from the album where Richard and Karen are at the beach, she is sitting on a rock with a long white dress. It once was my mother's favorite album. She would play it loud on our old stereo which was taller than I and as long as the living room wall. I would dance in front of the speakers, feeling the music seep into my bones and my viscera.

This morning, when the first notes of the song floated on the air, they were tainted with the scent of PlayDoh. I could suddenly feel the cold smoothness in my hands and taste the strangely sweet, salty taste of the magical concoction. Suddenly, I was three and carefree, sitting at the kitchen table with my mother, dangling my feet and relishing in the simple pleasure of being alive. From the depths of my gut, this memory rose and I breathed it in, feeling grateful that I am, indeed, alive. So very much alive!

Hormonal

I slid into the parking space aware that my breath was lodged in my throat, caught on something that was a strange mixture of a gasp and a moan. They were beautiful. There before me were three men in their work uniforms of jeans, boots and navy blue tees. Each of them were wearing mirrored sunglasses. None of them were exceedingly buff or model-gorgeous, but the combination of the three filled my senses to overflowing.

One was leaning casually against the wall, his right foot propped up high along the brick while he drank his Red Bull. Another was leaning against the ice machine in much the same stance, guzzling a bottled frappucino. The third was standing firmly with a strong, wide stance, reading the morning news. They were men being men, without the chaos or confusion that women can throw into the mix and I thrilled at the sight of them.

There is something so magical about men together. They have an innate camaraderie that is ever-present. Their sense of unspoken competition is seemingly about who can dead-lift the most weight and remain standing, rather than the emotional back-lash and eye-gouging that women resort to. I watched them for as long as I could before it would become obvious that I was. They were seemingly oblivious to my presence, only focused on being themselves, relaxing prior to a day on the job.

I loved the moment of being witness to sheer being-ness that I was witnessing. I felt my hormones race through me, awakening me to the presence of a male. While I say that I am curious about a same-sex relationship, I am fairly certain that I am solidly heterosexual. Watching these men this morning and feeling my systems race to meet them was further proof of the latter.

I appreciate men for the amazing creatures they are. I appreciate that our society has pushed them into a corner, taken away their divine right to feel and, yet, still expect them to be strong. I appreciate that, for the most part, our men are able to pull it off and look forward to the day when everyone realizes that emotional AND strong are a viable possibility and a much healthier way to live.

TT - "Breathing"

In my work, I have discovered that most people do not breathe. Now, I realize that sounds ridiculous because, if they aren't breathing, how are they alive??? Thing is, there is a difference between inhaling-exhaling and actually...

B R E A T H I N G.

As I have my clients practice deep breathing and, specifically the "Yes Breath" technique that I share with them, there is one of three things that happen:

1. They burst into tears.
2. They immediately freak out, feel scared and want to run away.
3. They get so seething mad that, at times, I fear for my life.

What I have discovered is that really breathing unlocks all the emotions my clients have blocked or stuffed or ignored. It is the fundamental building block of our life and the one thing that we are born with. Generally, in a healthy baby, no one has to teach that baby to breathe. It just happens. If you have ever watched a baby breathe, you will know that a baby breathes with their whole body. Their bellies fill to the maximum on the inhale, using their diaphragm and all abdominal muscles.

I have learned that there is a hormone that is triggered as the baby pushes its way through the birth canal, its head opening its path. That pressure on the baby's head, causes the hormone to release which will trigger a massive inhale when the baby's face hits open air. It literally causes the baby to breathe. Babies who are born via C-section are not triggered thusly. They may find, throughout their lives, that actually remembering to breathe is difficult.

As we grow to toddler stage and begin to explore our ability to stand and balance and walk, we begin to change our breathing patterns. We begin to minimize the inhale and exhale because we are using energy to remain upright. Then, that minimal breathing pattern becomes the norm and thus begins the ritual of never fully taking a breath. Minimized breathing is excellent for keeping at bay all your fears, sadness, anger, and whatever other emotion you are choosing to avoid. Minimized breathing - the norm for a vast majority of humanity - is a fantastic route for living without really being alive. Not breathing is a fabulous way to not be present. Your physical form may be there, but your mind and soul are elsewhere.

I remember the first time one of my mentors asked, "Angie, are you breathing?"

I looked at her and said, "Well, duh! I am here and talking with you!"

I imagine that she was expecting my sarcasm. The answer seemed so obvious to me on that day when I was feeling incredibly blocked and numb. The opposite answer, the one she knew, was actually the truth of my situation.

Quietly, she said, "I invite you to breathe really deep, all the way into your belly."

That concept was foreign to me. Into my belly?! What the...

I tried it. Instantly, I was lightheaded as a full load of oxygen hit my system for the first time. Following in lightning speed I was accosted with sadness so deep and infinite that I wanted to collapse. Oh. My. God. I was so sad. I was so angry. And then I was so scared.

The good news was, I was feeling for possibly the first time in my life. And thus, I came to life. Right there before her, I came to life. I began breathing.

Since that day, I remind myself frequently to breathe. I take snippets of my day to breathe deep into my belly, rejoicing in the balloon-effect I have mastered. I use my breath to move with and through my sadness, my fear, my anger. When I begin feeling numb and responding with, "I don't know," I will breathe. The numbness moves and knowing steps in. And then I know... I AM ALIVE.

I am alive. I am breathing. And I am grateful for both...

All A-Jumble

"Floating" (c) Angie K. Millgate 2008

I am riding the waves
Sadness
Happiness
Anger
Fear
I go up with those waves
Coasting easily down the break
No effort needed
I move forward
There is sadness
There is happiness
Oh! And hello anger
There is feeling afraid
I splash into the ocean
Feeling free
And floating gently
Gracefully
The water kissing my skin
The current moving my hair
Fulfillment
All is brilliantly, vibrantly alive
And I feel
It is delicious
This feeling of really
Feeling
Splashing into me
Embracing me
Loving me
Alive

akm 02/20/08