No qualifications needed

Sep 5th, 2012
by Alisha Sommer.
5 comments
I Love to Read by Carlos Porto
I Love to Read, originally uploaded by Carlos Porto

I watched the opening ceremonies for the Olympics when resting my eyes between chapters of my book. What a beautiful sight to see; there were flags waving, fireworks dancing, and athletes’ faces glowing in the spotlights as they paraded around the arena. They were awestruck. I would be too. I can only imagine how rewarding it must have felt to be there after so many years of training, competing and qualifying for the honor to represent their countries.

I haven’t set foot on a track or a basketball courts in years, but I still see a lot of people training, competing, and qualifying for their position in life. They collect names in little black books, homes on each coast, and certificates and initials behind their names to prove their worthiness to be here on Earth.

That includes me. I’ve done it too.

I chose expensive private schools over the state schools to prove that I was intelligent. I juggled men to prove that I was desirable. I started baking from scratch and whittling wood to make handmade toys to prove that I was a good homemaker and thoughtful mother. But through all of that training and competing—trying to qualify—I just became exhausted (and broken-hearted). I became a stress-fractured soul limping along, trying to make it to that finish line that I never could find.

Why?
To feel worthy? (Of what?)
To feel seen? (By whom?)

I don’t know where we learned that we are broken. Maybe we learned it from the Bible; about how Eve ate that apple and ruined all of us who came after. Maybe we learned it from the Greeks: Zeus gave Pandora to Epimetheus and she unleashed the plagues of mankind. Maybe we learned it from a parent or a loved one who in subtle, or not-so-subtle ways, made us feel undeserving or invisible.

It’s such a shame it takes us so long to realize that that is not the truth.

What is true is that we are born whole and full of goodness.

What is true is that we are worthy of love.

What is true is that we deserve to be seen, to be held in light.

What is true is that we are created in the image of God/Goddess/Source/The Divine and there is no need for us to try so hard to prove that we deserve to be here on this earth.

I just need to be me. You just need to be you.

There are no other qualifications needed.

It is time to fly

Aug 28th, 2012
by Alisha Sommer.
18 comments
Untitled by staceysvendsen
Untitled, originally uploaded by staceysvendsen

I got my period in Spanish class my freshman year of high school. Too embarrassed to see the nurse or ask to make a call, I went about my day as if everything was normal, even though blood was visible in my jeans and staining the jacket placed around my waist.

Do you remember those years? How your body ached from bone growth? How you tried to surreptitiously cover pimples? How you doubled-over from abdominal pain? And how confused you were about yourself and how you fit in the world?

I do. And I feel like it’s happening all over again.

Except this time, the metamorphosis is metaphysical.

Tonight my soul’s womb is doubled-over in pain, my soul-limbs are achy, and my soul-face is frantically trying to hide its imperfections. What is and what wants to be are vastly different. My soul-voice is changing; words form in my mouth but are quickly swallowed out of fear of how they will sound. And what I am afraid of is not that others will not be able to handle the change, but that I am the one who will not be able to handle it.

Yet I cannot go through my days disconnected from body, disconnected from self. I understand that this change must occur.

Is this how the butterfly feels?

There must be days when the chrysalis feels less cozy and more constricting, when bursting through feels more like stress than salvation. But oh! when she does breaks through, how glorious it must feel to fly instead of creep through life inch by inch. Now, that. . . .that is living: To be able to fly.

All change is painful. It is painful for the butterfly who must break through its shell. It is painful for the young girl whose body is metamorphosing into a woman capable of carrying life.

And it is painful for me – and you – as we sit on the edge of becoming who we want to be, who we are meant to be.

We are now too big for the chrysalis.

It is time for us to fly.

We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.
- Maya Angelou

No apologies

Aug 8th, 2012
by Alisha Sommer.
11 comments
greeting the sun by sethoscope
greeting the sun, originally uploaded by sethoscope

It wasn’t until I resurrected an old friendship that I realized that over the past few years I became a chronic apologizer. I apologized for every. thing.

Your soup was cold? I’m sorry.

You have a pain in your right side? I’m sorry.

You wish you had syrup? I’m sorry.

You forgot to pick up your clothes? I’m sorry.

Your left ear is longer than your right one? I’m sorry.

You can’t remember your sister’s birthday? I’m sorry.

But the real problem wasn’t just that I apologized for other people as though the errors were my own. No, the real problem was that I also apologized for being me. I apologized if I was tired, sad, mad, happy. I apologized for taking time to read, to write and to explore my creativity.

I had created a world in which I was the perpetual perpetrator, a world in which I did nothing right and everything wrong. It was no wonder I was constantly miserable.

One of the keys to my freedom this year was giving myself permission to stop apologizing. It is a still a hard lesson to remember, but oh so necessary if I want to live a life full of happiness and acceptance.

And you? What do you need to stop apologizing for?

Never apologize for showing your feelings. When you do, you are apologizing for the truth.
― José N. Harris, Mi Vida

Shine and show it forth

Jul 19th, 2012
by Alisha Sommer.
10 comments
clouds by AndyFitz
clouds, originally uploaded by AndyFitz

Last week someone hacked one of my websites.

I wanted to make a few changes but could not remember my password. I kept requesting the link to reset it but the link never came. Panic set in as I logged into my host account. I sent out an SOS on Facebook and Twitter. Someone told me where to look and ah, yes: two new users with passwords that were foreign to me.

I freaked out.

I Googled, sent help tickets, slammed my fist, and spiraled into despair. I started to have those thoughts about why I even do this. What was the point in all of this work that I’m not even being paid to do (as my husband is so kind to remind me). I even thought about shutting the website down.

I wanted to unfurl on my bed and have a good cry. Instead I sat on the sofa with my husband, swirled wine in a glass and refreshed my email every 17 seconds. A few hours later I received an email letting me know that the issue was resolved.

I was back in control.

But that didn’t stop me from continuing to drink in the doubt.

You have moments like these, right? Those moments where you doubt yourself? Doubt your worth? Doubt your reason for living? Doubt your purpose?

I do. Often. There are a lot of days when I wonder if the stress is worth it. Is this stuff – the art, the writing, the long nights, being short on sleep, the over-caffeination – is it worth it?

What, exactly, is the point of all of this?

I found a copy of Jonathan Livingston Seagull when I cleaned out a bookshelf. As I read the first few pages my heart began to race. My mind was loud with a resounding “yes!” as Jonathan flew to new heights, performed daring acrobatics, and broke away from his flock.

Do you have any idea how many lives we must have gone through before we even got the first idea that there is more to life than eating, or fighting, or power in the Flock?

A thousand lives, Jon, ten thousand! And then another hundred lives until we began to learn that there is such a thing as perfection, and another hundred again to get the idea that our purpose for living is to find that perfection and show it forth.

The same rule holds for us now, of course: we choose our next world through what we learn in this one. Learn nothing, and the next world is the same as this one, all the same limitations and lead weights to over-come.
– Sullivan

(For a seagull, that Sullivan was pretty damn smart.)

If you believe in God and a heaven, that is what you are trying to do, right? Trying to get as close to perfection as you can so that you are granted eternal life after your time on earth ends?

If you believe in Karma, you believe that the good and bad you do in this life directly influence the quality of your next life.

If you’re like me, you keep pushing forward and exploring and risking expression because you know that this is the better way.

Because you know that there is more to life than just eating, and fighting, and being a part of the flock.

I didn’t get rid of my website – I’m not going to. I do this – this art, this writing, the long nights, the short sleep, the over-caffeination – because it is worth it. Because I know that it is meaningful, even if only to me.

Unlike Sully, I don’t believe that we are capable of reaching perfection; however I do believe that we can polish ourselves. That we can and should strive to learn and do what makes us shine.

And to show it forth.

Confrontation

Jul 3rd, 2012
by Alisha Sommer.
11 comments

I struggled to tell this story on paper. I am blaming the heat wave and the energetic drain of children stuck indoors. So I decided to share it with you through video.

This is a little story about why we don’t write. The reason we don’t write is not because we have nothing to say. Everyone has a story to tell.

It’s an exploration of You.

And sometimes. . . .

Sometimes what we’re really afraid of is ourselves.

.

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