by Elly van Laar | Mar 19, 2014 | Compassion, Mindfulness
I’m reading “Opening the Heart of the Cosmos, insights on the Lotus Sutra” by Thich Nhat Hanh and learning about the historic and ultimate dimension.
The historic dimension is the reality as we know it in our current body and is bound by time and space. We are born, we live, we die. A car is manufactured, used and disassembled. A song is written, popular, and forgotten. There is a beginning, middle and end.
The ultimate dimension is the continuous flow of life, of unlimited being, of the one and the all.
Once we touch the ultimate dimension, we lose our fear of death, because we understand that we cannot die, that we were never born, that we have always been. Our present appearance is just one of the multitude manifestations of the ultimate dimension. A wave cannot die, it just returns to water, which it has been all along.
I don’t claim that I get it. I think if I did, I would be way more open, loving, and relaxed. I would be less anxious, jealous and angry.
And last night I realized that I am probably seeing a glimpse of the ultimate dimension in the loss of and continued connection with my cat: Toulouse.
She was my buddy, soul mate and Bodhisattva of unconditional acceptance, boundless love, and immeasurable appreciation. She followed me around the house, the garden, out on the street. She used any opportunity to jump on my lap, cuddle with me on the couch, crawl under the comforter and find her favorite spot in my arms.
I left her behind with my ex-husband, when I got a divorce and moved to the USA. I was heart-broken. Whenever I felt upset, I took her picture and held it to my heart. I’d fall asleep like that. Even now, five years later, I feel a raw, scourging pain in my stomach. She was the love of my life.
I went back to the Netherlands twice a year, and always visited my ex-husband and my two cats. As soon as I opened the door, she’d run up to me and claim my lap. She loved me as ever before. She never held a grudge that I had left her behind, as if she honored my choice, and accepted my departure.
The last time I saw her was December 2010. She could hardly walk, lost 10 pounds, and couldn’t get up on the couch.
My ex-husband took her to the vet Jan 21, 2011 to let her die.
I wasn’t there.
Despite all the grief, sadness and loss -that I even feel right now as I write about her- I feel this incredible joy of knowing that I never lost her. She is here with me, right now. She is always available with her love, affection, and acceptance. Her appreciation never died.
I understand it better now.
I am touching Toulouse in the ultimate dimension.
by Elly van Laar | Mar 18, 2014 | Compassionate Communication, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication
Training a puppy is like training yourself in skillful means.
Thich Nhat Hanh describes skillful means as the ability to deliver your message in a way that liberates the listener. It is the skillfulness to adapt your message, so that your friend gets what you’re talking about and taps into the unlimited wealth of peace, love and freedom within themselves. Someone with skillful means understands the inner experience of their friend and changes his message accordingly.
It is not about thinking what is right, being stuck in dogma’s, or how things should be done. Skillful means is only about what works.
Hum.
I realize I have not been that skillful in training the puppy to listen to me, to understand her place in the pack, and to be safe around the kids.
After I see Luna play with other dogs, I know how to change my training strategy. She bites the dogs, jumps on them, almost attacks them. And they bite back, chase her around, push her away. And from the wagging of the tails, I can tell they are playing and loving it. They are excited to be together and be buddies.
All of a sudden I understand that I have tried to impose my language on her. I am trained in Nonviolent Communication and have learned to ask people to contribute to my needs, to give from their heart, from the joy of giving. And if they don’t want to, to guess the needs they are trying to fulfill by not supporting your request. And then find a solution that works for everyone and every need.
That probably is not the language of a puppy.
This puppy understands me grabbing her in the neck when she bites, pushing her down when she is too riled up, giving her treats when she listens, being petted when she calms down. A simple strategy of admonishment and rewards.
It seems more manipulative, yet it creates the same results: everyone’s needs are supported. The kids need for safety, the puppy’s for belonging, and I feel relieved that I don’t need to be on edge all the time.
I guess that is skillful means.
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You want help to develop your skillful means and support everyone’s needs? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary, discovery session. I would love to help!
by Elly van Laar | Mar 17, 2014 | Compassion, Compassionate Communication, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication
I bite my tongue. With my front teeth. Really hard. It hurts. Yesterday I bit my cheek. With my left molars. Really hard too. It is still painful.
This happens often. It is always a shock. And it always hurts.
I think I’m gonna make a dentist’ appointment and get my front teeth and left molars removed. That way they won’t hurt me no more.
What?!!!
That’s insane!
My teeth and molars are part of me, we are one?! I need them, they didn’t mean harm, what would I do without them, why not eat more slowly, so it doesn’t happen?
Everyone would think I’m crazy if I would remove my teeth and molars, because they hurt me. Yet, execution is standard practice in Texas, and other USA states (Executions per state).
Ray Jasper and Anthony Doyle are scheduled to be executed March 19 and March 27 respectful. Two human beings who made harmful choices in their efforts to escape their own suffering.
Killing them does not create safety. Killing them creates more suffering.
Thich Nhat Hanh teaches us the insight of interbeing: we are interconnected and we exist of self and non-self elements. I eat a carrot. Now the carrot is part of me, and I am partly a carrot. Elly exists of a carrot-element. I poop and my excrement is part of the world around me, the world exists of an Elly-element.
Once we understand interbeing, we understand that killing people is killing part of ourselves.
Killing them is not a solution, it is adding to the problem.
A better solution is to look deeply into the causes of the suffering. Which circumstances let Ray and Anthony to kill? When did we fail to offer our support, our love, our inclusion? Marshall Rosenberg talks about tragic expression of unmet needs. We try to nurture a beautiful, human, universal need and we are not creative enough to chose actions that support the needs at the I-You-and-We level. Which needs were Ray and Anthony trying to meet when they killed their victims? Maybe safety, financial sustainability, respect, a sense of belonging? How can we support them figuring out other ways to support those needs, ways that bring more peace and love to everyone involved? Themselves, others, and us as a society?
One lives among all.
We all need to wake up. We need to see that we are interconnected, that no one lives separate. We need to learn how to create a society that takes care of the throw-away children and leaves no one behind. We need to understand the needs behind the tragic expression of unmet needs, so we can support more creative and wholesome ways to nurture those precious needs.
Let’s speak up for a world of inclusion, love and support. Sign the petition to Governor Rick Perry to urge him to save the lives of Ray and Anthony. Let’s stop killing, and start healing.
by Elly van Laar | Mar 12, 2014 | Compassion, Compassionate Communication, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication
Thich Nhat Hanh has a beautiful story about true love. It resonates deeply with me, because I so wish to love others in a way that nurtures and supports their unique needs, celebrating the preciousness of their unique life. And I so wish to be loved in that same way.
There once was a rich man, who had all the wealth in the world, except for the love if his son.
His son had run off when he was 15 years old, and wandered the world in poverty for 50 years. In search of work, he lands at the doorsteps of his father’s palace, not knowing this is his father’s residence. When he sees all the rich and important people gathering for a meeting with his father, he gets scared and runs away.
In a split second his father recognizes the beggar as his son and sends his servants after him to bring him back home.
When the son sees the servants, he gets terrified. He fears he will be falsely accused of theft, and punished accordingly.
As the servants bring him back, the father sees his mistake. In his immense love for his son and his longing for connection, he acted in a way that terrified his son. He realizes he needs to build a bond based on where the son is at. He understands his son won’t believe this wealthy man is his father, so instead the father treats him like a beggar. Seeing the low self-worth and lack of self-confidence his son has, he offers him the lowliest of tasks: dragging out the pig’s dung. His son accepts and works diligently and sincerely at the job. His father recognizes the moment to ask his son to take on more responsibilities. His son can gladly accept and performs his new duties with equal commitment. The father keeps adding responsibilities, to contribute to his son’s sense of competence, confidence and self-worth. After a while the son runs the whole estate.
Then, at his death bed, the father reveals the true nature of their relationship. By that time the son is able to hear and accept this as the truth.
We, too, can find the skillful means to support our loved ones to open up to their true nature: children of God, heirs of Buddha, soul mates of Christ.
May we all wake up from forgetfulness and realize our true nature.
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You want help to support your loved ones with understanding? Contact me 512-589-0482. I would be excited to help you on the path of true love and understanding.
by Elly van Laar | Mar 11, 2014 | Compassion, Mindfulness, Personal Growth
I don’t like conflict. I don’t like yelling, arguments, barking. Even a harsh tone sets me off. I get triggered, scared and anxious. I’ll walk away, hide and disconnect. I don’t want to deal with the anger, and I don’t even think I have to deal with it. Why should I be the one with empathic ears? Why can’t the other person be more peaceful and loving?
I try to take care of my anxiety by talking to my inner child. “I see how scared you are, how your needs for safety and acceptance aren’t met. I will take really good care of you. I will protect and nurture you.” With a slight indignant, self-righteous tone -I have to admit- angry that I don’t get the support I think I am entitled to.
Yesterday my inner child talks back. Delighted and cheerful: “I’m not scared. I’m happy. I feel snug. I liked my good night snack, and I’m happy to go to bed. Don’t worry about me. I’m really enjoying this present moment.”
What?
My inner child is happy? Relaxed and open? Innocent and trusting?
With a shock I realize that what I always perceived as my inner child, is actually my inner ego. It is actually a wall of defense I’ve built around myself.
I once couldn’t think of a better way to meet my needs for safety and acceptance. Now it is outdated. The war is long gone, and I’m still hiding in a bunker, holding an empty bundle of blankets. My inner child isn’t there, my inner child is by long running on the beach, splashing in the water, loving the sun. She invites me to play with her, out of sheer joy of being alive. She doesn’t force me to join her. She accepts whatever choice I make. She just makes a BIG invitation.
Gosh, all this time I thought I was protecting my inner child, whilst I was actually guarding my ego, missing out on life as it goes by.
I realize that my inner child, that I LOVE this moment, that I am happy whatever my circumstances are. I can truly say “Present Moment, Wonderful Moment.”
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You want help to fully live your life right now? Contact me 512-589-0482. I would be excited to help you on the path of openness and spaciousness.
by Elly van Laar | Mar 7, 2014 | Compassionate Communication, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication
So I here I am at Hoppin House trying to figure out how to talk with the parents of the kid, who apparently said “f… you” and support Maya’s needs for safety and respect, my need for acceptance and safety, and the parents’ and kid’s needs, probably for safety, acceptance and respect too. I am not looking forward to the conversation and need some self-connection first.
I breath in and out.
I remember Thich Nhat Hanh‘s advice to ask for help when you’re upset.
That I can do.
I walk up to the table. “Hi, I am Elly and I need your help. My girl…” I interrupt myself. The kid shows up. Maybe just five years old. I want to be transparent and support his sense of emotional safety. I don’t want to talk about him as if he were not here. I look him in the eyes and say gently “Hi, I’m Elly, what’s your name?” “AJ” “My girl is upset, because she heard you say ‘fuck off’.” “I didn’t say that! I didn’t say that! I didn’t say that! I didn’t say that!”, he yells. I see him fidgeting with his fingers, fumbling his shirt. I hear his mom tell him to apologize, and I remember “Empathy first.”
“Are you scared you will get into trouble with your mom?” He looks down, nodding ‘yes’. “Are you scared you will be punished?” Wildly nodding ‘yes’. “Do you want your mom to love you, no matter what you do?” His head still hanging down, nodding ‘yes’. “Maybe you want to walk over to your mom, and hear her say that she loves you?” Nodding ‘yes’, more quietly. He walks over to his mom, she looks at him, with some sweetness in her eyes. She seems to be telling him non-verbally ‘It’s okay, I’m not mad. Let’s work this out.’ I take a break. “Do you want your mom and me to know that you want to play in a way that works for everyone?” ‘Yes’ “Do you want me to go over to my girl and tell her that?” ‘Yes’ “Do you want to hear that I am not angry with you, and that I rather be friends with you?” ‘Yes’ “Can you look me in the face, and see I’m not angry?” He finally looks up, still a little scared, just a little puppy. He has a faint smile on his face. I touch his shoulders “Thank you!” He seems relieved as he runs off to play again.
When we leave an hour later, I say goodbye to a table full of smiling faces.
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Do you want help to resolve conflicts in a way that creates connection? Contact me 512-589-0482. I would be honored to help.
I’m reading “Opening the Heart of the Cosmos, insights on the Lotus Sutra” by Thich Nhat Hanh and learning about the historic and ultimate dimension.
