You make the snow beautiful
The snow is a pattern of frozen water
It is a chemical reaction in action
Your witnessing turns snow into geometric art
It becomes a miracle in your sight
God exists because your eyes judge the snow as enamoring
Wonder and amazement are born because you watch as the snow falls to the ground
Love bursts through the body chasing joy because you witness snowfall
Bliss exists because you allow your senses to experience the cold wet touch of a snowflake
Fun leaps into presence because you seek it face turned up, with open mouth
Snow is beautiful because of you
You are beautiful.
This morning a woman honked as I was walking with my daughter past her car that was parked right outside of the parking garage. She had just gotten in the car. I was walking very slowly as I had surgery a month ago and have been healing. This was my first time walking my daughter to school, I have had friends helping me the other days. I was walking by talking to my daughter, walking very slowly. If I do not walk super slow I will be in pain.
The woman honks at me. Scares me and my kid. Which activated Mamma bear and self protection. I mean, what a jerk!! I yelled at her ‘I had surgery! You have some nerve!’ I had already walked past I don’t think she could hear a word of what I was saying, this is NYC it is very loud outside. She gave me this weird crazy look that was Muppet style exaggerated then drove off. I was fuming. What the hell? I’m here with my kid and she has the nerve to honk at a child? Sure she didn’t know I was healing from surgery and isn’t that the point? We never know what someone is going through?
So I began to post a slightly comical exasperation to my friends on Facebook. I had to process it and venting and finding humor always helps me. Then I thought about it some more as I was walking back home. ‘How dare she!’ and ‘so what she didn’t know I had surgery you don’t honk at a child!’. That I stand by, don’t honk with a kid there, I mean god don’t honk over something so stupid as someone not walking past you while you sit in your comfy car. It took me what? 30 seconds even with the tiny steps I was taking.
Then I thought about it even more. What is she going through that at 8 in the morning she feels the need to honk at another woman and her child because she cannot wait 30 seconds to drive off? What if someone is dying in her life? What if her marriage is under stress? What if she can’t be late for work but her morning was crap and she can’t even handle being the slightest bit calm? What if she is used to living in stress? All of these things came up for me. It could also be none of the above. It could be she’s actually rude, and even then, why are people rude? There’s something underneath it all.
I don’t say this to excuse her behavior but rather find a way to understand why people behave this way in order to save myself from hurting myself with other people’s actions. The fact of the matter is we were both jerks. Even if she was a jerk first, I didn’t have to be the second jerk. We may both have our reasons and ultimately, we both lost that one and went straight to Jerk City. I ask myself how could that look different next time for me? I have every justified reason to be a jerk and that’s the challenge is during those times practice choosing otherwise. I’m not self flagellating, I have no guilt, I am simply exploring an awareness of this moment. Loving myself even when I recognize I’ve been a jerk is so important to not go into guilt. Just learning. Fascinating how life can bring the most awesome lessons in the messiest formats. Looking back on it all it seems pretty comical now. Interactions like this really are pretty funny in the grand scheme of things. Such anger over such insignificance. 30 seconds, honk of a car horn. It’s pretty ridiculous. And I’m not saying to bypass anger, anger is a healthy vital emotion like any other. What I’m saying is it’s up to me to be responsible with my anger.
2 Jerks and a car horn.
I was reading this article this morning by TIME- Meghan Markle: How Periods Affect Potential about the conversation which is well known that there are girls in countries such as India, Iran, Africa [and other countriess] who girls drop out of school because of their period. They do not have the resources to take care of their periods and there is also the conversation of shame around them having a period as if there is something broken about them. This is such an mportanti conversation to support girls being able to stay in school and have access to a better chance at success in life. And while we are far better off in the USA we are still lacking a loving conversation with and about our menses, in my experience anyway. It wasn’t until my adult life that I found a healthy relationship to this time of month. I don’t mean worshipping it and calling myself a ‘goddess’ over it as I am very much a human woman not a deity. I don’t need the pressure nor pedestal of being a ‘goddess’. That’s a long way to fall if I show up as the human I am. Just as my period doesn’t make me inferior having a period also doesn’t make me superior. As a female it’s something my body does biologically that I realized I wanted to have a healthy and loving relationship with as part of my self love and self care. By loving I mean loving this monthly time as a part of my life and body. Giving space for this in my life rather than try to pretend it doesn’t exist or relate to it begrudgingly. Being able to experience my period as a beautiful cycle. I honor this really is such a private conversation and yet even among women there seems to be shame about this conversation. Looking at it purely as purpose the period is a cleansing.
And there are emotional elements to it too of course. Emotional elements I had myself shamed until conversations with women and even with men. I interviewed men for my book ‘100 Days Of Loving Men: A Woman’s Journey Into Recovery’ and one of the men shared a beautiful insight, that the period brings about a way for women to have a natural release. Really opened me up to looking at this monthly time in another way. For me during this time of month I have to slow down, I am called very deeply into my body and self care. It’s become a part of my self reflection. I’ve learned to love it as a part of me rather than resist it and feel frustrated by it as I used to.
What would be great to see is conversations for girls here in the US to feel related to their periods, to know what is happening with their bodies or will be happening and cultivate a loving relationship with their bodies through this. I think this could alleviate a lot of body shame and can support self love conversations for girls and women.
What is your relationship to your monthly?
As strong as I am in my conversations of men, I am also strong in my conversations of women. You can follow me in both conversations on my Facebook pages, click on the titles to visit:
There have been times in my life where I came from this space, albeit unconsciously, where I was using my pain as a form of hiding and domination. Rather than going into my pain to listen, learn and heal, I wrapped myself up in a cloak of pain to be ‘right’ about it. What I mean by being ‘right’ about my pain was that because it was my pain it was something that I could be a self declared authority over. In this, no matter how someone came forward and tried to support me seeing a path out of my pain and into self care, self love and joy, I could always shut them down because ‘How could you know what I have gone through?’. I could then prostrate and demand respect for my position of pain and feel completely justified in shutting down the voices of healthy people coming to me with love and reminding me of my innate power and joy. I could then stand atop my victim mentality mountain and slay whoever came to me trying to show me a path to freedom from the suffering and turmoil I was cycling. For, how dare they not respect my pain? With that mentality anyone who came to me with love was a villain and I the hero.
This was an addiction. Painful things happen in life, no one is alone in this, no one is extraordinary in this. I certainly was not extraordinary for feeling pain, though I seemed to be telling myself I was. I was using my trauma as a way to feel extraordinary- this is backwards. It was the trauma that was calling me as an alarm clock to remember my innate being, the trauma itself was not my innate being. To confuse the alarm as ‘the way’, was stunting for me. To wear my trauma as a medal did not work. Pain is not wrong or bad, it is a call for self care. It is a necessesary emotion and when felt can even be a beautiful experience of self care. When wallowed in, it can become an addictive cycle. For me when I felt the pain but could not move on from it nor find actions rooted in self care, I had become addicted. Feeling pain, truly feeling it with intent to move through, transmutes into a deep body connect and connection with innate joy and love that is always present and easily accessed when allowed. If I’m not allowing myself to move through and into the love and joy, I have become addicted to the cycle of pain and whatever I’m getting out of it. I saw that I had become addicted to the attention I got when I played victim- victim currency. I had become obsessed with receiving the ‘poor you’ and ‘look how strong you are!’ when I played victim.
An addict never wants to know they are an addict. So when people came to me and were a stand for me to be free from my own suffering and addicted cycles of pain, I lashed out at them from my victim mountain. And self righteously shamed them with ‘you have no idea what this feels like how dare you question my victimhood!’, in so many words. Think about that, I lashed out at the people who came to me with love, who were standing for me to be free from my self abusive pain cycling. I was so addicted to my pain cycles it was gluttonous. I was abusing pain. Pain is not meant to be lassoed like that and harnessed, it is meant to be free to move through and move on until it’s next visit. It was like I was holding pain hostage against it’s will and purpose. And since the pain was my own feeling, a part of my own experience, I was holding myself hostage against my own true will and purpose. Fighting to stay away from my heart and my own love in the process. For, if I were to meet my own heart, I would have to let the pain process go. I would have to allow myself to be free and present to my innate joy. I would be able to see those who loved me who were inviting me out into the sun to enjoy the world with them, to enjoy the world with myself. If I were to meet my own heart, I would have to be present to the real beauty of life and place down my addictive shackles. And so I did. Because I’m worth it.
I don’t have to respect a persons pain, that is not compassion that is enabling. I respect the person themselves as I respect myself. To me respect means seeing each human being as powerful and capable of choosing. Even if it is the addiction they choose. I’m not here to enable, I am here to stand in knowing love. From my own self care, I trust each persons journey and trust myself to not enable