by Elly van Laar | Apr 30, 2014 | Compassionate Communication, Marshall Rosenberg, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication, Personal Growth
You sit on your cushion at your Sangha. It is time for tea. The two cushions on your left and right are empty. As is customary when tea is served and your neighbor is off to the bathroom, you take two cups: one for yourself and one for your neighbor to your left. The person sitting right of the empty cushion to your right does the same. She doesn’t. Frustration is rising.
So now you have two cups for three persons. Trying to practice generosity, you offer your cup to your right neighbor. Ostensibly you pick up your water bottle to join the tea drinking ceremony. You hope everyone sees your sacrificing generosity. No one does. More angry thoughts pop up.
Someone gets up to get herself a cup of tea. She wasn’t served either. Angry thoughts start to race. ‘Which idiot is not even able to serve everyone tea!’
Someone gets up to bring tea to the Buddha. Full blown angry storm. ‘My gosh, how can they let a newcomer serve tea and not instruct him clearly?’
Oh, my goodness! Here you are at Sangha, a sacred place of mindfulness and compassion, and all you do is judge, evaluate, condemn. What’s wrong with you! Thank God no one can see all these angry thoughts.
Image courtesy to malamala.com
Then you remember Marshall Rosenberg’s invitation to ‘enjoy the jackal show’. Instead of judging your judgments, trying to get rid of them, you imagine them as little puppy jackal puppets, just doing their jackal thing.
A burden falls of your shoulders. Your shame dissipates and you start to relax. You see all these little jackal puppets jump up on stage, each with their specific line. They are actually disciplined enough to follow theater conventions and speak only one at a time. And they are quite cute, with their fluffy ears, doing their utmost best to deliver their lines as lively as possible. You are watching them with a certain interest and curiosity, and you’re noticing the detachment between these thoughts and you. You are not your thoughts, you’re just having them. Just thinking. Nothing more, nothing less. You start enjoying your water. You are right here, right now. Just drinking water, and enjoying the jackal show.
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by Elly van Laar | Apr 29, 2014 | Acceptance, Compassion, Mindfulness, Personal Growth
The kids want someone else to babysit them tonight. Not forever, just this once. “She’s more fun, because she plays games with us.” Ouch. Well, honestly: ouch, ouch, ouch. I’ve been with them for so long. I try so hard to support everyone’s needs. I care about them. And I want acceptance and appreciation for all of that.
It hurts. It just hurts.
I think of my ex-husband. I told him five years ago that I wanted to leave him for someone else. We had been together for 14 years. He had supported me through some of the most difficult periods of my life. He was unconditional in his acceptance, always supportive, and deeply loving. I can only imagine how devastated he might have felt when I told him, “I’m leaving. I found someone more fun to be with.”
And yet, he has never stopped accepting me, supporting me and my choices, and, I think, loving me. I experience him as the epitome of unconditional, selfless love.
Image courtesy to windpacer04.deviantart.com
And now, as I feel this hurt, I feel some of that too. I do feel the pain of what I perceive as rejection, ànd I also feel a love that is way bigger than me. It is a love that is personal and non-personal at the same time. It is love for for the kids, love for myself. It is a quality of love with no object, no subject. It has nothing to do with what’s done, what’s said. It’s not even about who is. It is love for love’s sake. It is not my love, it is a love that is universal and timeless. It flows through me, it touches me, the only ‘I’ in this love is that I’m the vessel for it.
I feel relieved. Apparently I can feel unconditional love, at the same time that I feel pain, loneliness, sadness.
This must be my true nature. Some call it basic goodness. Some call it the Christ-essence. I call it Love.
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You want help to touch your own true nature? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary, discovery session to see if and how I can help.
by Elly van Laar | Apr 17, 2014 | Compassion, Compassionate Communication, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication, Personal Growth, Self-compassion, Uncategorized
Image courtesy to Wikimedia
I am so happy with my emotional potty training. After I realized that I’m emotionally incontinent, I went on a quest to learn how to stand my anger, jealousy, fear, and other unwelcome feelings. I learned how to have my feelings, connect, accept and understand them and respond with compassion, mindfulness, and care for everyone.
I can proudly say that I am a little bit more emotionally continent. I still my accidents where my painful feelings overwhelm me, and I yell, blame, and judge despite my value of compassion and connection. And I’m noticing moments where I feel anger, jealousy, fear arise and maintain my calm.
I couldn’t have done it without John Kinyon and Ike Lasater’s self-connection process. This is how it might work for you.
So there you are. With your husband. You come home, and, again, he didn’t clean the counter, as promised. You think you don’t matter and that what you want doesn’t count. Angry thoughts are piling up one after the other. Yep. That sometimes happens.
Then you catch yourself. You’re getting triggered. Oops. Just in time to do the self-connection exercise. You move to a spot on your right (I always chose my right, so my body builds up an instinctive routine and doesn’t get confused in times of challenge) and focus your awareness on your breath. Just noticing it. Nothing else. Breathing in, I know I’m breathing in. Breathing out, I know I’m breathing out. Maybe a first sigh of relief of pausing.
Then you bring your attention to your physical sensations. Just an invitation to get out of your head and into your body. Maybe you’re sweaty, maybe your stomach is tight, maybe your heart is racing. Just bringing body and mind together, and ground yourself in the present moment. Your body cannot be anywhere else. Maybe a second sigh of relief of self-connection.
In this safe container of breath and body awareness you connect to your feelings. Wow. You might be surprised by your feelings. You might notice that there is sadness underneath your anger. A tender sadness. Maybe a fear too. A fear that you don’t matter, that there is not enough care and support for your needs. Ouch, maybe the pain of the thought that you are not good enough, that you are not worthy of connection, love, belonging.Maybe a third sigh of relief and self-compassion.
Breathing in, breathing out. Physical sensations. Feelings. More clarity about your needs.
This is it. Just some spaciousness to listen to yourself before you respond. Just an opportunity to hold your own experience with love and gentleness.
I’m curious to hear if this self-care helps you to respond with more loving-kindness, compassion, and understanding. It does for me.
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You want help to ground yourself in your breath, body, and feelings? Contact me 512-589-0482
512-589-0482 for a complimentary, discovery session. I would be delighted to work with you.
by Elly van Laar | Apr 16, 2014 | Compassion, Mindfulness, Personal Growth, Self-compassion
Image courtesy to The Church in the Dale
I always thought that retreats are peaceful, tranquil, and joyful.
How wrong can you can be? This retreat was unnerving, disquieting, and disorienting.
In these two days I realized how much of my life has been dominated by my fear that I won’t get the love, acceptance, and support that I so deeply long for. I am creating my own suffering by expecting the world not to meet my needs.
Many of my critical, judgmental, and evaluative voices are my way of keeping people at a distance to minimize the risk that I will feel hurt, lonely, and scared.
I breathe into that realization. I let it sink in. A second insight comes up. These voices don’t indicate that I am not a good person, that there is something wrong with me, that I should practice harder to be compassionate with everyone. They are just a cry for help to trust that I am good enough, that I do matter, and that my presence is indeed a present to the world.
Gosh. This is what I help my clients with. And here I am struggling with this deeply ingrained fear of rejection, ridicule, and abandonment. I am so scared that I interpret every absence of a smile, every lack of a hug, every non-response as proof that I am rejected, etc.
And that’s where my critical thoughts come in handy. They reassure me that there is nothing wrong with me, and everything with them. Another brick in the wall to guard my vulnerable heart.
I wonder “What if I open up to this raw pain of loneliness? What if I gently embrace this fear that my needs for acceptance, mattering, and belonging won’t be met? What if I step into the courage to share myself nakedly, trembling in this old, habitual fear of isolation and lack of support and understanding?
It sounds pretty unpleasant and unappealing. I like the safety of the wall around me. I don’t see much of life, of the real presence of people, and I’m not sure if I’m missing out. Maybe I just want to stay inside these walls of habitual thoughts and reassure myself that everything is okay. That life is really wonderful in this dark, stuffed cave.
And yet… How would life be if I step out into what’s truly alive in me? No evaluation, just owning my experience. How would life be if I am fully aware of and responsive to how I contribute to my own suffering? No judgment, just an observation. How would life be if I create some spaciousness for other ways of being? No force, just experimenting.
It sounds scary. It sounds appealing.
…
Yeah.
…
Let’s do that…My thoughts might not be right after all.
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You want help to step fully into being you? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary, discovery session to see if and how I can help.
by Elly van Laar | Apr 15, 2014 | Compassion, Mindfulness, Personal Growth, Self-compassion
Image courtesy to Wikimedia
I love meditation. I love sitting on my cushion, lighting my candle, inviting the bell to sound, and bringing my attention to my in- and outbreath. And whenever a thought arises, labeling it as ‘thinking’. My meditation cushion is my sacred haven.
This morning I sit on my cushion again. I am so happy to have these 20 minutes to myself, to enjoy this open and loving space in which I can relax into my breath and let go of all my worries, anxieties, struggles, plans, and have-to’s. Just sitting and enjoying my breath.
“Now I understand why I felt so uncomfortable and disoriented at the retreat. That is my habitual fear of abandonment. It has nothing to do with the retreat, it has to do with an internalized pattern of fear. It is exactly the same experience I had when I was eight years old at girls scout camp.” It takes me a while, before I notice I am lost in my thoughts. I quickly label them as ‘thinking’ and bring my attention back to my breath. I relax and adjust my body as I breath in, and let go as I breath out. In, out. In, out.
“I remember how homesick I was, when my dad visited the camp. I just wanted him to take me home…” ‘Thinking!’ Bringing my attention back to my breath. In, out. In, out.
“I can talk to my empathy buddy about this. This is a rich topic to explore, and it would probably…” ‘Thinking.’
“What!? Who are you to interrupt this thought process? Who are you to tell me that I should go back to my breath and let go of my thoughts? Huh?! Who do you think you are to tell me to stop this super interesting line of thought?”
And finally it dawns on me. I am attached to my thoughts. They make up my identity. I don’t know whom I would be without my thoughts. Whom would I be in this wide open space of presence. It sounds too scary. Too little me. Too little of the well-known, carefully crafted person I’ve come to identify as Elly.
Thich Nhat Hanh talks about our historical and ultimate dimension. The ultimate dimension is the shore of liberation. It is the insight of interbeing, that we consist of self and non-self elements, that we all are waves and water.
I realize I am not so sure I want to be liberated. It sounds all yummy and good, and I realize I want to linger a little longer on the shore of the historical dimension. It is a well-known place that brings me comfort and security.
Let me just breathe into that attachment for now. Let me just breathe into my fear of letting go. In, out. In, out.
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You want help to let go of attachments? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary, discovery session to see if and how I can help.
by Elly van Laar | Mar 31, 2014 | Compassionate Communication, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication, Personal Growth
Image courtesy to farm5.staticflickr.com
“Help me”
Something softens in me. My heart opens up. I am not alone, I can ask my friend to help me figure out what would work for ALL of us.
“Help me”
It is a message of courage and vulnerability. I open up and own my needs for mattering, acceptance, support. I share how stuck I am in my strategies. I let go of my fear and pride and convey that I don’t know, that I am not as strong and well-together as I would like to be seen.
“Help me”
It is a message of mattering. To myself. That my needs are important enough to be considered. That I am important enough to receive support for my happiness.
“Help me”
It is a message of trust. To my friend. That I know her compassionate heart, her spaciousness and willingness to include my needs in the choices are enough to collaborate. That I matter enough to her to help me.
“Help me”
It might be one of the most powerful messages of connection. Here I am. Vulnerably, naked in my needs. Scared with my thoughts that I won’t belong, accepted, matter. Tender to reach out for your helping hand. I trust that you have the wisdom, compassion, and love to support all our needs.
“Help me”
This might be the most powerful message to my friend to convey my love and care for her, my sincere intent to include her needs, my regrets for all the times that my behavior was a “tragic expression of unmet needs” (quote Marshall Rosenberg), and my dedication to learn how to nurture all needs, most certainly hers.
Let me say no more. Just “Help me”.
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You want help to learn how to ask for help? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary, discovery session to see if and how I can help.
