Risk and Discernment

    

 A couple Saturday’s ago I woke up feeling overwhelmed. I’d planned to have dinner with a friend, but wasn’t sure I was fit company for other humans. I talked to another friend that morning, who reminded me it’s okay to say “no” and take care of myself. She added that growth doesn’t mean we have to keep pushing ourselves all the time.

    All true. I liked that idea but as I finished the conversation I realized that option didn’t feel right. When I’ve worked on saying “no” and being more aware of obligations vs. what I really want to do, feeling overwhelmed often meant I needed to say “no.”

   The difference between that place and where I was on Saturday had everything to do with context. I’ve learned in the past few months feeling overwhelmed is often created by my own limiting beliefs. To move past the belief I have to push myself past feeling overwhelmed.

    So I went to dinner and enjoyed a thought provoking evening with a friend. All of this was a good reminder of the relationship between risk and discernment.

     Risk is part of any foray into the unknown. It’s a vital part of evolution, growth and exploration…all of which means getting out of my comfort zone.

    I need my comfort zone. We all do. Your comfort zone is essential for integration and rest. But when you become too enamored with it and surrender to the fear of stepping outside, your comfort zone becomes a gilded prison.

   So how do you know which risks are beneficial and which are rash or self-destructive? This is where discernment comes in.

     I used to make a pros and cons list to help me weigh risk and make decisions. I’d divide a piece of paper in half; list the cons on one side and the pros on the other. After I had my list I’d go back and cross off anything that was based in fear. Then I’d use what was left to make my choice.

     I’m not sure when I stopped making those lists, but I haven’t done that in years. It worked for years. Then I began to see the limits of list based risk assessment. Even with the list, my appraisal of the situation often seemed faulty.

    In retrospect I can see that at times I needed a colossal fail even though it wasn’t what I wanted. Working my way out of the “failures” pushed me closer to who I want to be than “success” could.

    Even though I was using a pros and cons list something about my assessment of the situation was off. The misstep wasn’t about not weighing my options carefully enough. I was too focused on making the “right” decision. I wasn’t discerning the real crux of my options.

    Old paradigm decision making and risk assessment is all about making the “right” vs “wrong” decision. But all too often “right” has to do with what others may think and/or what society supports. Both prevent me from being in an authentic place when I weigh a risk.

    Lists can be great tools but they often come solely from my brain. So they’re wrapped up in ego, linear mind and small self. In making decisions based on my pros and can list, I wasn’t taking the bigger picture into account. Each option on my lists had the potential for contributing to or detracting from who I am and what my life is about.

    I discovered that consideration is more important to me than logic or any small picture assessment of risk. I don’t care how many scientific studies prove that X is a better option than Y. Until a few hundred years ago prevailing opinion aligned with scientific proof that the Earth was the center of the Universe. I am not anti-science. However, I do find that science often fails to recognize its own limits.

     Although I do care what my friends think, I had to let go of allowing how many people in my life would understand if I chose X and might be confused and critical if I chose Y to be a factor in my choices. If Y is more aligned with who I want to be, I needed to be brave and pick Y.

    Questioning my beliefs and assumptions was the other place my discernment was lacking. I began going back to each item on my pros and cons list and asking “Is this really true?” When I don’t ask that question, what I really risk is believing I’m taking a risk when I’m not. The actions may look different, but if they come from the same old beliefs and assumptions I’m not truly risking much.

     Risk is uncomfortable. That uncomfortable comes in different forms. There’s the discomfort of doing something new, not knowing what I’m doing or even if I can do what I’ve chosen to. Doubt is just part of the process. The answer to that is accept the doubt, but don’t’ feed it and go on.

     There’s also the discomfort of having weighed all my options, small and big picture, and still not having a clear sense of what to do. If I can, I wait to see if I can get some clarity. If waiting doesn’t work, I flip a coin. Pun intended, that may seem like a flippant way to make a decision, but is it? When I can’t decide I tend to overthink. That puts me right back in the little picture. Flipping a coin gets me out of my head and who’s to say the Universe isn’t an equal partner in how the coin toss comes out?

    Then there’s the discomfort that arises when I make a choice and feel the need to rationalize, justify or make excuses. This form of uncomfortable warrants my attention. It usually means some deeper part of me knows what I picked isn’t aligned with the bigger picture and what I really want.

     Sticking with that decision isn’t “wrong.” It’s just a choice. Examining my rationalizations, justifications and excuses often leads me to uncovering the limiting belief I’m butting up against.

    Bottom line – the biggest risk is not taking a risk. Discernment in that process is vital. When I don’t exercise discernment I more easily chose a risk that only serves to reinforce my wounding rather than helping me move past it and grow. Discernment is important in big risks and the little daily ones. Often the daily risks are much bigger than they seem at the time, like the 10 Risks Happy People Take Every Day.

Finding your way to ground

     

Although grounding is an inside job, it can be done from the outside in.That's actually how I grounded for year with realizing it. I was born with a rare knee disorder that resulted in dealing with chronic pain from adolescence into my late forties. Distancing myself from my body and what hurt is one of the ways I learned to deal with the pain.
    When I learned to ground, using the visualize your body as a tree with roots exercise, I focused on a specific body part. I could easily create a conscious connection to my hands. I use them to write, draw, hold books and make a touch connection to other people. So for the connect to your body part of the exercise, I used my hands. It basically worked.
    The part I struggled with for years was how rigid and fixed I felt at times when I was grounded. Traditional grounding was an impediment when I did shamanic journey work. I had to find a different way to maintain a connection to my physical body when I journeyed. My grounding was also too much of an anchor when I wanted to spend some serious time in a creative pursuit.
     In 2012, when I was forty-eight, I my second knee replacement. Having two knees that worked and didn't hurt for the first time in my life changed many things, including my understanding of grounding. Without the need to keep my attention away from the pain in my knees my connection to my body was suddenly different.
     I felt and experienced my physicality in a new way. My relationship with my body was much more present and less tenuous. It wasn't an awareness I had to reach for or consciously create. It just was. As I got used to how present my body was, I realized that the physicality of my body gave it an innate connection to the Earth. My body simply was connected without my having to do anything.
     I also realized the way I'd been grounding was working from the outside in. I'd put more effort into creating a strong, hard-line connection with the Earth because my connection with my body was tenuous. The inflexible nature of that grounding created a conflict between being grounded and being creative. My gut told me this conflict could be eliminated. I began experimenting with different ways to ground.
    As I played around with different possibilities, my understanding of what grounding is shifted. For years I looked at grounding as an anchor, something that planted me in the ground the way a tree is planted or a metal sign post is planted in a cement foundation. That did work to keep me grounded. But both trees and signposts have a limited range of movement because they're firmly planted. A tree can sway with the wind but it can't take a walk.
    When I grounded using the tree root exercise I restricted my own range of motion in the same way a tree's ability to move is limited. What if grounding wasn't one fixed thing, but something that existson a continuum? There's always more than one way to do something.
    What if grounding could be a bridge rather than an anchor? When I grounded I was really looking for a way to span my internal and the external world in a way that allowed me to present in both and move between the two.
   After my second knee replacement I began exercising regularly for the first time. Without the constant pain, it was fun to find out what my body could do. Mindful exercise deepened my connection with my body. I discovered I could ground into my body without consciously creating a connection between my body and the Earth because that connection already existed. That worked. It felt less rigid, but didn't give me quite enough access to my inner world. When I did something that required more internal presence I still found myself working around or letting go of my grounding.
   Earth doesn't consist only of dirt. It includes oceans, rivers, sky and stone. Earth is also an element. So I began looking at the other three elements (air, water, fire) and my relationship to those. I have a stronger relationship to fire and water than I do to either air or earth. I began experimenting with grounding into my body and then to water, specifically to the Gulf of Mexico where I've spent time since I was a kid.
    That gave me much more flexibility. Water is probably the most elastic element. It can shape shift from liquid to solid to gas. Water pretty much goes where it pleases. When I do shamanic journey work, both for myself and for clients, I often run into bodies of water. This led me to wonder if the same innate that existed between my body and the Earth was also present between the water I encountered during journey work and water on the physical plane.
     If so, could I ground to my body and then into the water in my internal landscape? YES!!! That for me is what works best. It's grounding as a bridge that allows me to move easily between the external and the internal. When I ground that way I don't have to let go of my grounding to do journeywork. I can simply loosen my connection to my body a little.
    All of us are strongest when we do things in way that really works for us rather than following a generic blueprint. The way I ground may not work for anyone else. Using a basic grounding technique is good way to learn to ground. It lets you experience what being grounded feels like. It also serves as a foundation for you to begin playing and exploring to find out what your way looks like.

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Grounding 101

    

 Grounding is yet another buzz word that’s common on web sites about healing, articles written by life coaches and in conversation. The liability of buzz words is that their prevalence can push us to think we’re “supposed” to know what the word means. This often deters us from asking questions rather than making an assumption.

    So what is grounding? In reference to electricity, grounding is the process of connecting equipment or wiring systems to the Earth. This minimizes the risk of electrical current leaking into uninsulated metal.

    When it comes to humans, grounding refers to being connected to your physical body and present in the physical world. Because we all live in the physical world and have bodies it might seem like grounding is automatic. Unfortunately it’s not.

    Yes, we do have a connection to our physical bodies just by virtue of having one. However the level of connection varies. We’ve all met people who are more comfortable with mental energy and spend most of their time up in their heads. People like this are often absentminded and disconnected from the physical. They lose their keys and forget to tie their shoes because they don’t have a conscious connection with their bodies.

    This is common for people who aren’t grounded. Lack of grounding can also make it difficult for someone to be aware of where their body is in space. They bump into door frames and furniture. Ungrounded people can end up with cuts and bruises but have no memory of how they got them.

    So aside from not banging your shins on the coffee table, why is grounding important? The esoteric aspect of grounding has to with the way your bodies energy system, your chakra system, is fed.  One of the ways chakras get fed is through your connection to your physical body and the Earth.

    In practical terms your physical body is your vehicle. Even if you’re highly creative and love the world of ideas, those ideas can only manifest in the physical via your body. You need the connection with your body to create, build and do anything here.

    Your connection with your body is a vital aspect of your relationship to yourself. Being grounded gives you a foundation, a sense of being solid in yourself. Without that, it’s much easier to get throw off by daily events, have difficulty making decisions and react rather than respond. Grounding is your foundation for functioning in the physical world.

    So how do you know whether or not you’re grounded? I’m aware of my body. I’m aware of how I feel. I can distinguish my emotions from the emotions of other people around me. I’m less likely to take on feelings from others.

     When I’m grounded I feel solid, centered and in the present moment. While my mind and my emotions can easily stray into the future or the past, the physical nature of my body ties it to now. When I’m grounded the rest of me has an easier time staying in now.

     Symptoms of not being grounded include:

• Feeling spacey, dizzy and not quite all there
• Bumping into doorframes, furniture, etc.
• Losing your keys, your phone, etc.
• Having trouble focusing
• Feeling tired and scattered emotionally and/or physically
• Being overwhelmed by emotions without a sense of where they are coming from or whether the feelings are really yours
• Feeling disconnected from yourself and your surroundings           

     Some people are more naturally grounded than others. Grounding isn’t a natural state for me. It’s something I often have to do consciously.

    One of the most common grounding exercises involves visualizing your body as a tree and extending your roots deep into the Earth. Another common exercise is to follow your hara line, the column of energy that runs through the center of your body, down into the Earth.

    Both these exercises can be effective if you already have a basic relationship with your physical body. Without that relationship using visualization as way to ground is simply a mental exercise that may not produce any physical sense of connection.

     A basic part of grounding is learning to maintain focus on your physical body and your connection to it. That’s not to say all of your attention has to be there all of the time. However some part of your focus needs to remain centered in your body.

    If that sounds confusing or foreign, chances are your relationship with your physical body is tenuous. There are numerous ways to begin shifting that relationship. A simple way to bring your attention back to your body throughout the day is put a band aid on one of your feet. The discomfort will redirect your attention to your foot which gives you an opportunity to check in with your body and make some conscious contact.

     Post it notes that remind you to check in with your body can be helpful too. Stick’em on the bathroom mirror, the night stand, a kitchen cabinet or even on the dashboard of your car. If after a few days you get so used to the notes you don’t really see them anymore, put up new ones in a different color.

     Doing something physical is another good tool. Dance. Take a walk. Go to the gym. Rake some leaves. Mindfully engage in an activity that’s primarily physical. The mindfulness part is crucial. If I get on the exercise bike at the gym and read or spin around in my head about what I have to do during the rest of my day, I’m not exercising mindfully. To use the exercise bike as way to ground I focus on how my feet feel on the pedals, my breath, and the muscles in my calves contracting. I can do the same thing by taking a walk and paying attention to the contact between my feet and the Earth.

     Actually getting your hands in the dirt helps too. Repot a plant. Work in the garden or even just stand outside barefoot. Again mindfulness is the key. Pay attention to the contact between your hands or feet and the dirt. What does the ground feel like under your feet? Is it soft? Hard? Rough? Cold? Warm?

    Grounding comes from you. It’s an inside job but there are external tools you can use to assist in creating grounding. Keeping a small grounding stone, like hematite, in your pocket can help. You can even carry a small bag of dirt with you. Human beings have a strong relationship with scent memory so essential oils that smell of Earth can help with grounding. Tree based oils like sandalwood, cedarwood, pine, rosewood or frankincense are all good ones to try.

    If you’re not used to being grounded you may feel too heavy or dense initially. This sensation does pass. Grounding takes practice. Like any other practice, it’s going to seem like an awful lot of work at first. If you continue to practice grounding will become a natural part of your daily routine.

Taking a break

     This week my blog and I are taking a break. I'm sinking in to being back in Taos,  letting my experiences in Joshua Tree find their place in me. Good week to practice flexibility as a spiritual principle. Somtimes self care includes stepping away from a commitment,  even one I've made to myself.  What I have to offer this week are pics of Joshua Tree National Park....enjoy!

The Power of Change and Choice

  

     I  got back to Taos last night. This morning I am adjusting to the altitude and feeling grateful to be back in familiar. Also feeling very grateful for my time in the Mojave and falling in love with a new desert . Change,  change and more change.

     The process of change includes decision points. After gathering new information and insights, you hit a place where you can make a decision that will effect the course of the change you're in. This is a power place. The power lies in stepping up and making a conscious choice.
     Chaos, turmoil and mixed emotions are all part of change. This makes conscious choice more difficult. I've heard many people talk about reaching a decision point and not knowing what's right for them because nothing feels good.
     Yep, that's a given. In a process of deep change some aspect of your foundation gets shaken up or disassembled. The moments when anything feels good are a gift. Most of the time you feel vulnerable, shaky, confused, conflicted, sad, fearful or angry. Virtually no decision you make is going to feel "right" or "good" in the same way a choice made from less upheaval does. This is one of the times when the ability to hold mixed or even conflicting emotions is important.
     I hit one of these decision points a couple weeks ago. It came out of a change process I've been in for more than a year. I was awakened at 3am by a flash of clarity. I saw how entangled I am. I saw how my choices are holding my energy hostage in a way that's not serving me or what I can feel of the bigger picture.
    I got up, made coffee, sat for awhile and made a new choice. Immediately a flood of paradoxical emotions hit me. I felt less conflicted than I have in months. I felt a big expansion as though there's suddenly more space inside me. I also felt some fear around following through with my new choice and inviting the unknown. And I felt some grief. Fortunately I was able to stay connected to my knowing under the emotional turbulence and not default to an either/or.
     When we default to an emotional either/or we tend to choose the stronger feelings and dismiss the rest. For decision points in a change process, the strongest emotions are usually the voices of fear and wounding.
     You're out of your comfort zone and dancing with the unknown. That alone triggers most of us. Those triggers come with their own voices of fear and wounding. Add that to discomfort you're already feeling and you can pretty much guarantee your strongest emotion when making a choice will comes from fear and wounding. Expecting a choice made during a time of deep change to feel wholly "right" or "good" is unrealistic.
  Change is a confluence of destruction and creation. Decision points are the doorway to creation. If you arrive at a decision point and chose not to decide, you're still making a choice. You're choosing, by default, to maintain the status quo.
    The power of change is not that it allows us to make the world or our external circumstances different. The real power of change lies in being able to make ourselves different. Changing and recreating yourself isn't something that just happens. It requires awareness and a conscious decision to step through the creation doorway.
      I've had numerous occasions where I felt I changed or stepped into an opportunity to change in spite of myself. In the moment those experiences felt like I was suddenly being and seeing differently in a way I hadn't consciously chosen. In retrospect I can see that's not how it happened.
     The unknown aspect of change includes not knowing the outcome of a choice or even how significant a choice is. A few times I've made a decision with a vague awareness that something bigger was happening. Usually I just do the best I can based on how I feel, my gut and where I am with my wounding. Often the choices that seem insignificant in the moment spread out like ripples when a stone is dropped in a pond.
     The details of the choice may not matter, but the intention behind it and the context do. Looking back at the times when I seemed to stumble into an opportunity to be different I can see how the choices I made in the preceding months around being open to new opportunities led me to the "suddenly" place.
     The best ally and most important tool I have in the process of change is trust. The first change process I consciously engaged in began when I landed in rehab in my early twenties. At that point I went on blind faith and desperation. I felt anything that could happen if I got different was better than my current experience.
    Three decades later, if I feel like I'm operating on blind faith I've surrendered to my fear. So what do I trust?
    I trust that my soul knows where it's going even if my personality doesn't have clue. My personality can be pretty myopic. I don't want to live confined to that box.
    I trust the bigger picture and my place in it. More times than I can count gifts, openings, people and help have appeared just when I need them...need, not want.
    I trust myself. I trust my commitment to change and grow. I trust the movement of the process I'm in, even if I don't understand it.
    In the midst of deep change this trust is more an awareness than a feeling. This is where "acting as if" comes in. I can feel fear and confusion....and chose to act as if I trust.

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