Stuart is my role model

When is the last time you heard someone say: “Peter? Peter is highly successful. He did very well for himself. He opened his heart, speaks in a way that encourages others, learned to transform his anger in requests, and listens to his friend when she is down and out.”

I never did.

Such things are usually not counted as accomplishments, as something others are impressed by and want to copy.

When we talk about success we usually talk about careers, houses, cars, maybe fame, hopefully a stable family life, although we would not say “Margaret she did SO well: her husband loves her SO much!”

Yet, most possessions don’t go into the grave. And even if they do, they are mainly interesting and valuable to archaeologists 1000, 2000 years from now, not so much to you. The only thing we take into our grave are our intentions and efforts. Financial enoughness can help us stay more focused on those -because we are less distracted by survival struggle- and that’s all.

Image courtesy to FlickrLet me tell you about Stuart.

I met Stuart four years ago, when he asked me for money as I waited for the traffic light. He walks with braces on both legs, which -of course- makes it harder for him to reach cars in time and receive what’s been offered. He had polio when he was one, didn’t receive much support during life, managed to find work on only a high school diploma, and finally got fired from his last job, because he couldn’t climb the ladder anymore. I never heard him complain. He always told me that every situation is an opportunity to thank G*d for support and love. He received every dollar with gratitude and grace.

Can you imagine the world we would create if we’d call people like him successful? How would your life be if he is your role model for modesty, gratitude, and trust? Can you imagine the big smile, appreciation, and openness we all would have?



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Love knows no pride

Usually, I would say that ‘undermined’ is a quasi-feeling. A feeling mixed in with a thought: someone is doing something that I interpret as undermining. If my clients tell me they feel undermined, I ask them how they feel when they have that thought. Maybe sad? Scared? Angry? And what’s the need underneath that thought? Maybe respect, support, acceptance?

Today’s situation is an exception to the rule. I don’t think I am undermined, I don’t feel I am undermined, I KNOW I am undermined. It is a fact, an observation. If you were a fly on the wall registering everything that was said and done, your summary of what you observed would be ‘yep, hum, undermining’. Everyone else in the room would confirm that too, by the way. I don’t want to be undermined, certainly not by a colleague in the class I facilitate.

So, it’s time to address this with him. I am crystal clear about it. I am right, and he is wrong. Even better yet, I am the victim, and he is the perpetrator. Well, even better than that: I am innocent and pure, he is vile and mean.

I feel so good with my level of self-righteousness. It is a great start for an open conversation, where he will acknowledge how much he wronged me and where we will both agree that our problems are his fault.

I do hear a voice in my head reminding me of my commitment to loving-speech and deep listening, of my dedication to include all needs. Well. I always listen to that voice, and today is not the time.

Today is an exception. Today is an urgent matter of proofing myself right. Today I am ready to tell the TRUTH. I am ready to receive hundreds of apologies, regrets and amendments and all the other yummy stuff life is made of.

I start off well, in my usual accusatory way. But the reminder of my commitment gets too loud. It is as if Thich Nhat Hanh stands next to me. Firm and kind: “There is no pride in love”.

I can’t help it, but all these years of Nonviolent Communication training and mindfulness practice are finally catching up with me. I have to listen and include his needs. I have to be honest and accept my failures on the path of loving-kindness.

Instead of going on a rant, I realize I only want connection based on understanding. I want to open my heart to his feelings and needs. I want to lean into this uncomfortable place of vulnerability and ask what he wants.

We talk for more than three hours. We are able to hold all needs. And we find solutions that work for everyone.

The next class was a delightful experience of collaboration, respect and support. Thank you, dear friend, for walking the path of compassionate communication with me.

You want help to stay committed to your practice, even when you’re triggered? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary discovery session.

Veganism is an act of courage and rebellion

Image courtesy to
The Rebel © Osho Zen Tarot

“The rebel: His very being is rebellious – not because he is fighting against anybody or anything, but because he has discovered his own true nature and is determined to live in accordance with it. (…) The rebel challenges us to be courageous enough to take responsibility for who we are and to live our truth.” (Osho Zen Tarot Cards, Rebel)

Will Tuttle describes veganism as one of the most rebellious acts we can take, because we break with our conditioning what it means to be human, to live in community. Veganism challenges the idea that we are omnivores, that we are born and meant to kill other living beings in order to be healthy and strong. Veganism challenges the idea that barbecuing, roasting, and stuffing slaughtered animals is an essential part of our culture of celebration. Veganism challenges our belief that doing what others are doing and going with the flow, ‘being easy’, is a condition for belonging, acceptance, and harmony.

I’m noticing I’m getting judgmental of anyone who rather buys cheap hamburgers than take the time to learn about the lives and deaths of their food. I ‘m getting judgmental of anyone who doesn’t have the guts to watch a documentary, go to the slaughterhouse, or kill their food themselves. I have the guts to cut off a tomato, dig up a potato, pluck an apple. You want to eat pork? Raise and kill the pigs yourselves.

Ten years ago I was judgmental of vegans. I remember when my friends and I went out for dinner. There were 12 of us, so it was a hassle to write down everyone’s order. When it was Paul’s turn, the whole process slowed down. “Do you have soup?” “Yes, we do.” “Is it made of animal products?” “Well, we can take out the meatballs, and you’ll never notice they were in it.” No, that didn’t work for Paul. “Well, we have cheese, that doesn’t require the killing of animals.” No, that doesn’t work either. It was made of the inner lining of calf stomach. Gosh, Paul, can’t you just order what we eat? No, Paul decided to stick with a salad. What a kill joy.

In retrospect, I admire Paul. He stood up for his principles and his truth, even though he must have heard my non-verbal criticism loud and clear. He wasn’t making a fuzz at all, he wasn’t proclaiming he was right, and we were wrong. He honored whom he was, and the natural choices that followed his being. A rebellion doesn’t fight anyone or anything. A rebellion decides that society has conditioned her long enough. Now it’s time to decide for herself whom to be and what to do. A rebel follows her own heart. That’s courage.


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VegaNVC 3/3

Now that I’ve publicly declared I am committed to go vegan, I am noticing anxiety coming up. Thinking of my upcoming travels to family and friends in the Netherlands, and not eating slices of bread with Gouda cheese. Not eating pancakes with Jeroen, poffertjes with my mom. Not sneaking out of bed and eating ontbijtkoek with butter. Not now. Not ever.

All those moments of connection are history. And not only that, the easy strategies to comfort myself, when my social anxiety, shame, loneliness, confusion, and sadness come up, are history. No more stuffing myself up, so there is no space for them.

Image courtesy to merrillohana.blogspot.com100% Veganism requires me to be more conscious of what and how I’m eating, if I ever want my food choices to bring more compassion and mindfulness into this world. That includes animals. All the workers who brought this food to my table. Do the laborers get decently paid? Do the chauffeurs get enough breaks during their drive? Does the store treat it’s employees with respect? And myself. Am I willing to compassionately embrace all the shitty feelings that hit me once in a while?


Rather not!

Rather I feel happy, clear, energized, calm, self-confident, than all the unpleasantry of feeling shame, upset, loneliness, confusion, you know the drill. And if I have to feel these feelings, because they are too loud to be ignored, I rather eat. Eating is such a perfect strategy to silence these feelings. Whether it is sweets, cheese, chips.

I practice five minutes of mindful eating each morning. I recite the five contemplations as offered by Thich Nhat Hanh, I thank G*d for my enoughness, and I chew consciously. Only recently have I started to bring awareness to how my food lands. And I notice how often I continue eating, even though I am full. I want to eat for the full five minutes. I want to finish my breakfast. I like the taste. And most importantly, I like having a bloated belly. Not the look of it, but the feel of being stuffed. Not feeling too much discomfort, but forcing myself to chunk along. The last two weeks I stop, as soon as I notice that feeling. And I realize how overeating is an easy strategy to silence my uncomfortable, unpleasant feelings. Or at least, stuff them. Just like we do with our animal properties. Stuff them.

Maybe my veganism is actually about deepening awareness. Expanding my willingness to embrace all of my experience. And thàt is something I’m willing to say ‘yes’ to.


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VegaNVC 2/3

Food is one of the most primordial ways of connection. It connected us to our moms when we were in her womb. It connected us to our caregivers when we were little babies. And throughout the rest of our lives, eating and sharing food is a simple and direct way to experience connection, community, belonging and acceptance.

No wonder it is hard to change your food pattern to a diet that seems to exclude you, set you apart, and provoke misunderstanding, criticism, and judgment.

That’s why I encourage you to be gentle on yourself when you transition to a vegan diet.

Image courtesy to cidrap.umn.eduI invite you to support all needs on the table: your need to contribute, care, and expand your compassion to all living beings and your needs for acceptance, understanding, and belonging.

Some people shift to a vegan diet cold turkey (haha, forgive me the pun).

I didn’t.

I first stopped eating meat and birds, and continued eating everything else. I even made my vegetarian hamburger in the same pan in which my ex-husband made his steak. I continued eating fish, dairy, and eggs.

This was relatively easy to do. Most people knew how to make a vegetarian dish (or at least, leave the animals out) and it was simple to order something in a restaurant without raising eye brows. This phase also helped me to wean off meat and birds, and get used to my new food choices.

It’s not perfect compassionate eating, and then again, we’re not striving for perfection. We’re striving for growth, one step on the path of expanding compassion and empathy at a time.

Then another, then another. It’s okay to take a break once in a while. It’s even okay to fall back once in a while. We want to develop a habit that is enjoyable to continue, not a punishment and discipline we will finally give up on, because we’re failing our own standards of perfection.

You don’t want to decrease compassion by judging yourself that you’re not good enough. You want to increase compassion by embracing all your needs, feelings, and thoughts.

My path towards a vegan diet has cycled me through the fear of the thought that I am seen as crazy and abnormal, the loss of never using my grand mom’s cook book again or eating herring with my mother, the challenge of not eating all the stuff I ate most of my life. I stayed with all these feelings and worked on figuring out ways to nurture the underlying needs. What other strategies could I think of to support those same needs?

Vegan cook books help. Vegan communities help. Dialogue and expressing my experience help. Accepting and celebrating my choices help. What can you do to support all your needs?


You want help to make choices that include the needs of all living beings? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary discovery session.


Image courtesy to Flickr

One of the assumptions of Nonviolent Communication -as I understand it- is that when we connect to the universal needs underlying our differences, we can find solutions that work for everyone.

I like that. It paints a world in which we all can find happiness, peace, harmony, joy, and love. It speaks of a world of acceptance, understanding, and inclusion.

Do I believe this is possible?

Yeah! Duuh!

Even in the most challenging circumstances of disconnect, distrust, and despair, I’ve always found NVC opens connection with others and support for all needs on the table.

We have a natural tendency towards compassion and comradery, and I think there is nothing more fulfilling than to contribute to the well-being of others (and ourselves!).

I have a sadness about what I perceive to be the missing link: awareness of the needs of those living beings who cannot speak for themselves, such as future generations, those with less resources, and animals. I wished we would include the needs of those not in the dialogue, yet impacted by the outcomes of our solutions. If we brought more awareness to their needs, we probably would make different food-, work-, travel-, and social choices.

I, for one, stopped eating meat and birds when I found myself turning off the shower and making an effort to rescue a spider that was frantically trying not to drown. I was perplexed when I realized that I brought so much care and compassion to this creature, and ate my bacon beef hamburger happily a few hours later. Did I not think that the pig and the cow on my plate had been equally terrified when they were slaughtered for my appetite? Did I not care about the horrendous circumstances of their life and journey to death? How could I go to bed with a clear conscience, knowing I had contributed to suffering in unique creatures, whose names I didn’t even know?

It doesn’t take a genius to understand how much harm and torture we deliver to animals for our consumption. I’m pretty sure YouTube offers vivid footage of the keeping, maiming, and killing of our food. (I watched some years ago, and don’t have the stomach to do so again).

I stopped eating fish after I watched Finding Nemo. I had cried my eyes out over the terror of the fish being hunted down. I realized the cognitive dissonance I was creating by crying over a cartoon and enjoying my raw herring as a snack.

I’m not perfect. I still act in ways that are directly or indirectly harmful to other living beings. I just want to share my passion for compassion for all beings. Please, leave a response, so we can enter into a dialogue how to support all needs.


You want help to make choices that include the needs of all living beings? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary discovery session.

The opposite of scarcity is enough

I had my last conversation with my grandfather. After three weeks hanging out together, five times a week for half an hour a day, he tells me it is enough. It is time for me to get back on my meditation cushion and sit and breathe, and be by myself.

Image courtesy to FlickrHe wants to talk about scarcity. He likes the Lynne Twist quote in Brené Brown’s “Daring Greatly” (p25):

“For me, and for many of us, our first waking thought of the day is “I didn’t get enough sleep.” The next one is “I don’t have enough time.” Whether true or not, that thought of Not Enough occurs automatically before we even think to question or examine it. We spend most of the hours and the days of our lives hearing, complaining or worrying about what we don’t have enough of… Before we even sit up in bed, before our feet touch the floor, we’re already inadequate, already behind, already losing, already lacking something. And by the time we go to bed at night, our minds are racing with a litany of what we didn’t get, or didn’t get done, that day. We go to sleep burdened by those thoughts and wake up to that reverie of lack… This internal condition of scarcity, this mind-set of scarcity, lives at the very heart of our jealousies, our greed, our prejudice, and our arguments with life…”

“Elly, the opposite of scarcity is not abundance. It is enough… I wished you’d see that you have enough. Enough income, enough time, enough self-confidence. You don’t need to force yourself to get more. You have enough within you and around you to live the life that fits you. You don’t need to look for anything more. You are all set to get all the clients you want, to create a booming business, to thrive, to live and to love.”


There is nothing lacking in me? I’m pretty, popular, smart, funny, verbal enough? I don’t need to “improve” myself? I don’t need to try to be a better version of myself?

Being myself is plenty enough, and exactly what the world needs?

I think of Carl Rogers and self-actualization: our innate, irresistible tendency to grow into ourselves, to be us in the fullest sense of the word. Maybe I don’t need to challenge that. Maybe I don’t need to force myself to be, do, or have anything more than life offers. Maybe I can trust that my current conditions are more than enough to be happy, and that I can relax in the flow of my energy.

I thank him. We have spent three weeks of humanizing my hero-image of him, of getting closer. Three weeks of deepening self-acceptance and self-understanding. A life-time of richness and gratitude. Yes, I have enough. More than enough.


You want help to experience your enoughness? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary discovery session.

Inner mediation between my grandfather and my father, 3/3

(continued from June 9, 2014 Inner mediation between my grandfather and my father, 2/3)

Image courtesy to FlickrI take a seat on the couch, in between the grandfather-part on the right and the father-part on the left. I feel shy. I didn’t expect my grandfather to accept me for my Elly-ness. I didn’t expect my dad to understand that I try to live by my principles, not my considerations. I feel relieved. I have the acceptance and understanding I’m longing for. It creates the connection I want. It integrates different parts in me, which is healing and relieving. I have clarity about my next step: continue being me, just me. Do what I know to be life-serving. Have what I receive with love and gratitude.

Life is actually pretty simple that way: we are born, we live, we die. No matter what happens in between, we know we’ll die in the end, so we better live to our best. I once heard a beautiful saying:

At the end of his life, rabbi Zusha wasn’t asked “Why weren’t you like Moses?” He was asked “Why weren’t you Zusha?”.

The only purpose in life is to be ourselves. We achieve greatness when we fulfill our potential. We reach our potential if we let go of old beliefs, core convictions, and limiting self-doubt. I have found this inner mediation a fantastic tool to do that. I recommend it to anyone.


You want help to mediate different parts of yourself and reach your potential? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary discovery session.

Inner mediation between my grandfather and my father, 2/3

(continued from Inner mediation between my grandfather and my father, 1/3)

Image courtesy to deviantart.netI-as-my-grandfather expressed to my father-part how much I love him and wish for him he would rest. I-as-my-grandfather wants to hear how this lands for my father-part.

I move to the opposite chair.

“You know, I don’t really know what to say. It’s been a long time since I (as-my-father) connected to you. I don’t really know what to say…”


“You know, I don’t want to connect. I’m noticing I’m angry. You made choices out of your sense of integrity and we suffered the consequences. We were left without support, reassurance, someone to lean on, someone to guide the way. I was left all alone…”

All of a sudden, out of the blue, a deep wailing comes up in me-as-my-father. I break down and sob for minutes, head in my hands, body shocking with waves of grief and loss. “I missed you, I so deeply missed you… I just wished you had been with us… I missed you.”

The wailing continues, for minutes. Then the sobbing calms down. Quietly, gently.

I-as-my-dad look at the chair my grandfather sat in. “I missed you, dad, really missed you… I love you… And I admire you. You put your principles first… You lived by them and you died by them… It was almost no choice, it followed naturally from your being. You didn’t consider the consequences, you followed your heart… Elly looks like you in that respect. She doesn’t know that I know how often she jumped in on street fights, making sure everyone was safe and cared for. She did that at the risk of her own safety. She makes the same intuitive, instinctive choices of compassion and care, inclusion and empathy. She doesn’t care much about the consequences either. It’s not that she assumes she’ll be okay, it’s just that it is her nature to devote her time and energy to those who are in need.”

My/his face lights up.

“My gosh, that’s why I am so worried about her. I’m afraid I’m gonna lose her, just like I lost you. Gosh, that’s just it. She reminds me of you, and I’m afraid I’ll lose her, just like I lost you.”

I-as-my-dad fall quiet.

“And she is not you. I realize that. Her circumstances are very different… I understand that… Thank you, dad, for listening. Thank you for being you….” He looks at the third chair. “I want to hear what Elly has to say.” (to be continued Wednesday, June 11, 2014)


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Inner mediation between my father, my grandfather and me 1/3

Thank God for friends. Thank God for friends who empathize. Thank God for friends who participate in the Mediate Your Life Program. And my goodness, thank God for Leah Wolftal.

I am overwhelmed with fear about my poison ivy rash, our house, my income. I don’t know how to respond, and I need help. I ask Leah to mediate between different parts of me: my grandfather-part and my father-part.

Father and sonI start with my grandfather.

Hans, I love you… I love you so much. I see how worried you are about Elly. That she is not taking good care of herself, and doesn’t understand how important and urgent it is to make a living, to build up pension, to have health insurance. I see how hard you try to help her realize that she needs to put her own needs first…”


Hans… you’ve done enough.. It’s time to rest and relax and enjoy the remaining days of your life…”

A sudden sadness rises in me-as-my-grandfather. I start to cry.

I love you so much, Hans, so much… It’s time for you to rest. You have worked your ass off for 70 years. You took care of everyone after my death, as young as you were…”



You worked so hard, Hans, so hard. Under such horrendous circumstances…”

He continues to cry.

Oh, my God, and I wasn’t there for you to face the horrors of war and the desolate aftermath… I wasn’t there… I wished I had been there for you… To guide you, to support you, to reassure you… I care so deeply for you…I wish you would rest, let go, and trust that Elly is walking her Elly-path… I wished you would just enjoy your connection with her. Her laughter, her playfulness, her optimism… She has such a big heart… full of compassion and care. Standing up for those who are vulnerable, seeing the beauty in even the tiniest creature.”

You know, I too, sometimes wonder if her magical trust in the power of her subconscious mind is helpful. Of course I do! I was different that way. And yet, that is exactly what makes Elly Elly. Childlike. Trusting. Innocent. Seeing goodness where others despair. It’s a special quality and I’ve come to appreciate it. I hope you will too. I hope you will honor her for whom she is, without worry. She has survived so far, and will do so in the future. Just like you. Differently. And the same. A relentless worker… Trust that she’ll get there, so you can rest and relax. You’ve done enough.”

He falls quiet. Leah reflects him back. He feels relieved, he’s been heard and mediated between my father and me. I feel touched by his deep love for both of us. (to be continued on Monday)


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