Letting go when we want to try harder

Aug 10th, 2012
by Tara Wagner.
7 comments

Tales from the Tribe: A guest post by Tara Wagner, part of the winter 2012 tribe. Read more of Tara’s stories here.

I went walking through the woods of the campground one morning. It was wet, with droplets of water and sap both falling from the trees. I had snuck off without a word to my husband or our friends. I didn’t want to answer their questions about the look in my eyes.

I had a heaviness in my heart, a question in my thoughts and a song in my ears…

Don’t let your mind get weary and confused
Your will be still, don’t try

The first two lines of the same song I turn to every time I’ve found myself sunken into weariness. Exhaustion. My old friend, overwhelm.

Except this time it was a deeper sort of pain, the kind that brings tears to your eyes for unknown reasons and leaves you holed up in your home, puttering around shoeless and successfully avoiding the real world.

My deep desire to release the pain I was holding caught on that line of this old familiar song as I laid my head down on the picnic table and asked with all my heart,

“How do I let go? How do I not try?”

I am a do-er. A fixer. Give me a problem and my mind wants to solve it. It’s the idealist in me…if only I can finish this project, stop those tears, ease that pain, say that one perfect thing, craft the perfect email…then we can all breathe, rest, find joy, experience laughter, create peace.

How do I NOT TRY for those things?

There is a side of me that whole-heartedly rejects any concept of not trying. It sounds too much like giving up, quitting…cynicism, apathy. This is the same side of me who always takes a stand, who fights for freedom and justice, and advocates for those who haven’t found their voice. It’s the side that believes in the inherent goodness of each person, and that love heals all wounds, and that “if we could only”…

But there is another side too. And she’s the one who brings me back to that song each and every time to remind me of what I’m forgetting. She’s the one who aches for stillness and peace, and whispers of acceptance (the radical kind). She’s the one who, from a higher vantage point, can remind me there is nothing that needs “fixing” in the first place.

“There is beauty in this. There is wonder and perfection. Love this and you will find it lovely.”

It’s hard to reconcile the Fighter and the Fixer in me with the peace-loving, mantra-singing, life-trusting Spirit I feel nudging. That Fighter-Fixer wants to try harder, correct mistakes, make changes, move furniture for goodness sakes…anything to keep the winds of control in her favor. She hates the thought of being blown around, of leaving things as crucial as joy to “chance”.

But it’s the other side of me that never shuts up. She doesn’t yell or insist. She just keeps reminding me that Trust and Control are at odds with one another; keeps reminding me that one leads to peace and the other violence; reminding me that trying to “fixing it” feels a lot like “fixing you”; reminding me that when I do let go it never feels scary or overwhelming – ever; reminding me of the wise words of a soul sister…that I’m hanging off the edge of a cliff, refusing to let go for fear of falling to my death but so wrapped up in my own gory images that I can’t see the ground is just two inches beneath my stretched out toes.

I walked through several more days with that heaviness, and that question in my heart of, “How do I let this go?” (And trying hard to release it. *sigh*)

How DO we let go?

How do we stop trying to fix, stop trying to do, and finally allow things to be and breathe?

I often say I only coach others so that I get to repeat the things I most need to remember.

One of those things is this question that has replaced the other:

What would it look like to stop trying so hard, and start trying softer instead?

THAT question turns things on its head for me. That’s a question I can almost answer.

It would look like turning my whole body to my teenager and listening to each and every word out of his mouth without trying to “fix” his emotions. It would look like turning off Facebook for awhile and filling my ears with music instead. It would look like shutting the computer for an afternoon, a day, a weekend and finding myself in the grass under the stars or curled up in the covers with a good book or in the bend of my husband arms at the theater.

It would look like deeper breaths. And shoulder that are hanging from my ears. And closed eyes. And the sound of my heartbeat instead of the sound of my thoughts.

It would look like permission to fail, and permission to start again, and permission to do what I really, truly, deeply wanted to do. Like dive into the Atlantic on a cold day, ignoring the looks of concern or is-she-crazy, and having a conversation with Mama Ocean.

When I ask myself that question, letting go begins to look easier…and softer. And doable.

What about you: What would trying softer look like for you?

You’re not a perfect parent, but don’t let that stop you from being a damn good one

Mar 16th, 2012
by Tara Wagner.
12 comments
perfection

The new trend in parenting is the trend against The Perfect Parent.

Moms, dads, psychologists (but mostly moms) all talk about the downfalls of trying to be perfect: the stress, the pressure we put on ourselves to provide our kids with the perfect childhoods, with only the perfect resources and experiences. Most especially they talk about the guilt we all feel when we fail to meet the “ideal.”

But what disappoints me is how many parents use the anti-perfection message as an excuse to not be better parents. They know they’re only human, and can’t achieve perfection so they stay put where they are – right smack dab in the middle of yelling, impatience, knee-jerk reactions, disengaging and generally not enjoying the time they spend parenting.

They know they can’t be perfect, but they don’t even try to be the parents their kids needs them to be.

It Might Just Come Down to Focus

The primary difference I see between trying to be a perfect parent and striving to be a damn good parent is where your focus is.

Perfect parents are worried about social standards. They’re wondering what the neighbors think. They’re worried about someday-results. And their comparing their kids to the kids next door.

Perfect parenting is focused on an image.

But damn good parents are focusing on their kids.

They aren’t thinking about social standards, except to question them. In fact, they are probably questioning every single idea they were taught to take for granted on parenting and children and filtering every piece of advice through the desire to help their child flourish in their own way.

They probably worry about what the neighbors think and what “someday” will look like too – but they’re willing to push themselves outside their comfort zone and consistently choose to honor their family’s needs over the limited perspectives or judgments of others or the niggling fears of their own. And damn good parents know that comparisons are poison, whether it’s comparison of the neighbor’s kid or comparisons between their own children.

Damn good parents also know they’ll make mistakes, and they forgive themselves – and ask for forgiveness from their kids too.

They don’t let those mistakes stop them though.

While “perfect parents” are focusing on what’s wrong, what shouldn’t be done and what spells failure, damn good parenting focuses on…and amplifies…and deeply revels in, celebrates and ENJOYS what is wonderful, what CAN be done and what spells greater and greater success in their relationships.

You can’t be a perfect parent – we all know that.

But please don’t let your imperfections stop you from learning to be a damn good one.

3 reasons you’re neglecting yourself (and how to start changing that)

Feb 29th, 2012
by Tara Wagner.
3 comments

Have you ever tried to implement a new morning routine that lasted all of 3 days?

Have you ever made a serious and strong commitment to attend that yoga class, or eat healthier food, or go to bed early only to let yourself down? Again? And again? And again?

I see a lot of people try to change their choices without first examining the deeper reasons for those choices. This is like trying to treat the fever without addressing that nasty infection on the leg.

There are lots of infectious things that keep us from taking care of ourselves. I just want to call out the most chronically reoccurring reasons we neglect our own wellness.

#1 You Believe There’s Not Enough Time.

Each and every time I hear a girlfriend or a client say they just don’t have the time I call them on it. It’s the biggest excuse that keeps us powerless, and ineffective in our lives. And it really IS just an excuse. Here’s how I know this:

Our life is made up of time (and energy). We have a lifetime of it. It’s simply how we use it that is holding us back.

We all have the same 24 hours in a day. And we ALL have busy lives. You are NOT the one anomaly in this world that has exponentially more on their To Do list than anyone else, even when it feels like it. So if we all have the same amount of time and we all have ridiculously busy lives, why are some people capable of doing so much while the rest of us are left feeling overwhelmed and under-cared for?

Two words: Unordered priorities.

Think of this: If there was an emergency would you “not have enough time” for it? Of course not. Anyone who has ever had a death in the family can attest to the miraculous ability of the world to keep spinning and the work to somehow get done and the inconsequential to incredibly feel completely inconsequential while mourning a loss and planning a funeral and handling estates.

This was my experience when my father passed away. My priorities suddenly became crystal clear and I found that what needed to get done got done and what didn’t need to get done didn’t even seem to exist.

We make time for the things that matter. Period. And when we remember what matters and in what order they all thrive the world around us either falls into order with us or falls into line to support us.

And when you start making your own wellness a priority, this really amazing thing happens: You find you suddenly have the energy to do more in less time. You work smarter (not harder), you’re more productive and effective with your time, and you get to feel good while you’re doing it.

So the real question is, why aren’t you making your own well-being a priority?

(That’s what #2 and #3 will hopefully answer.)

#2 You Think It’s Selfish.

We have this ridiculous idea that it’s better to give than to receive. (Did I just trigger a few of you by calling that ridiculous?) Here’s why it’s ridiculous: In order for you to give, someone has to receive. Does this make you better than them? If you believe it’s selfish to receive, you’re essentially criticizing the very people you so deeply want to give to. You’re making yourself out to be the better person. And I know that’s not your intention.

Receiving is just as much an unselfish act as giving.

Receiving does two things:

  1. It allows another person the joy and experience of giving. If you refuse to receive you’re robbing them of their experience by robbing yourself of yours. They WANT to see you receive with grace and gratitude. They want to see your face lit up. They want to see the positive effect they have had on you. They want to feel purposeful and see the value they offer the world. They experience this when you authentically and wholeheartedly receive what they offer.

  2. Receiving enables you to give. You can’t give what you don’t have. Which means you can’t give unless you first allow yourself to receive something that enables you to give. You limit your potential and the value you are able to give to the world by refusing to meet your own physical, emotional, mental or spiritual needs. My world changed when I recognized that giving without receiving doesn’t make me a hero in anyone’s eyes. It’s makes me ineffective, hypocritical and egotistical. You don’t have to receive from someone else if you’re not ready for that. You can allow yourself to receive from yourself. But for goodness sakes, set an example. ;)

#3 You Act Like You Don’t Deserve It.

A large part of my coaching centers around the fears and blocks getting in the way of Who You Are. And the most prevalent belief women have is the one that says our value or worth is less than someone else’s. This is the “I’m-not-good-enough”, the “I-deserve-to-be-punished”, the “They-are-better-than-me”, the “I’m-unimportant” and the “Everything-else-comes-first” ideas that have us continuously undervalue our gifts, our talents, our voice, our purpose, our strength, our importance and our ability.

These ideas – even when they sound ludicrous to us – run deep. And they play themselves out again and again before we ever have the opportunity to DIG IN to them and address them. They think faster than we do and they have us reacting and recreating the same patterns in our life to reaffirm themselves. Even when we know they aren’t true!

Sometimes these are ideas we learned by watching the way others in our life valued themselves. Sometimes we learned it by how they valued us.

Always they are something to examine, peel back the layers on and clear from our lives completely.

Let’s Put an End to This, Shall We?

All talk and no practice changes nothing. If these three reasons above (or even just one or two of them) resonate with you, I’d like to invite you to do something about it.

If you have a copy of Digging Deep, you can take your struggle through the whole process. Otherwise, grab a pen and a piece of paper and answer these questions (it doesn’t count if you do it in your head):

  1. Looking at all the experiences in my life, what lessons did I learn about self-care?

  2. Who taught me how to value myself? What did they get right? What did they get wrong?
  3. What would I be able to do better if I felt grounded, energetic, well-rested, patient and nurtured by myself?
  4. Am I ready to take one step in the right direction?

You get to decide what that next step looks like and how and when you’ll take it.

But I’d love to hear what it is in the comments below.

How situations beyond our control are still within our control (or how we got into the holiday spirit when it was 80 degrees outside)

Feb 14th, 2012
by Tara Wagner.
8 comments

We’re spending our winter on the road in Florida, the quintessential winter residence for “snowbirds” and full-timer RVers.

Now everyone assumes that because our hometown (Las Vegas) is known for its heat, that winters are pretty warm there also. But they aren’t. They’re cold. With bitter winds. That threaten to blow me away.

So we have grown accustomed to Christmas being cold, something you don’t think much of until you’re wearing tank tops and cut-off shorts as you cook your Christmas Eve dinner and plan for Universal Studios on Christmas Day.

Now I love the sun and the heat (Nevada girl that I was). But Justin, born in and for the cold, snowy winters of Wisconsin, couldn’t stop commenting.

“It’s really hard to get into the holiday spirit when it’s hot enough for the air conditioner.”

So as we fried our potato peels (seriously, yum) we chatted about our differing perspectives, why this situation beyond our control was bothering him and not me.

I’ve spent (ahem, spend) a lot of my time feeling disgruntled, depressed, disappointed or frustrated over situations that are beyond my control.

And there is a time for that. (Denial of our authentic experience isn’t helpful, after all.)

But at some point in our individual (and vital) processes, we all reach the same realization: In my desire to enjoy myself I’m actually keeping myself in unenjoyment.

Because that makes sense.

More and more I’ve resonated with this:

My ability to enjoy any experience begins and ends with how I choose to experience it.

Meaning what I bring to the table – my feelings, my ideas, my expectations, my choices that stem from those things – will create my experience and my enjoyment of that experience.

Cranky son? It’s only my feelings about how he should feel that make me cranky too.

Crappy traffic? It’s my own stress level that’s going to put me over the edge.

Disappointing day? It’s my expectations of what “should” be that are keeping me from seeing the potential of what is.

It’s not about the experience. It’s about what you choose to do with and within it.

“If you don’t like something, change it. If you can’t change it, change your attitude.”- Maya Angelou

So what do you do to enjoy the less-than-ideal situations that are beyond our control (like a sweaty Christmas)?

This:

  • Self-Realization – This is actually the most important step. Like I said above, denial of our authentic experience, our disappointments, our feelings and maybe even our deeper triggers, is not helping anyone. It’s like throwing a blanket over that fire so that you don’t have to deal with it. Smart. Acknowledge where you’re really at and give it some face time.
  • Beginner’s Mind – I love this term. The beginner has no preconceived notions of what “should be” and therefore has the ability to create from scratch, rather than wading through layers of expectations before they can get to the good stuff. It’s mostly those preconceived notions – those expectations – that keep us pushing against the immovable. Really productive. Let the expectations of what “should be” go so you can get onto the good stuff.
  • Acknowledge the Possibilities – Not the crappy possibilities. Anyone can acknowledge those. Acknowledge what IS and what can be done with what is. In our case, we got to treat it as a novelty. Christmas in Florida! Opening gifts by the pool! Universal Studios! A rosemary plant for a Christmas tree! Getting creative and playful moves you back into that experience you want to have – the enjoyable one.

Yes, sometimes things will go horribly, even hurtfully, wrong. Sometimes the details will still be beyond our control. But our thoughts, our feelings, the experience we really want to create…totally within it.

“I need what she has…” (How my jealousy led to my authenticity)

Jan 24th, 2012
by Tara Wagner.
18 comments
Awakening by Marina Katsantoni
Awakening, originally uploaded by Marina Katsantoni

Several years ago, I had a word that chose me and then proceeded to nip at my heels like a stray puppy.

Authenticity.

Being myself. Figuring out who that person was.

Authenticity comes natural as children.

As children, we breathe easily. We feel deeply and powerfully and uninhibitedly. We wear the colors and patterns and designs we love and we play hard and laugh harder. We know what we love and what we hate with total assuredness.

As children, we hadn’t yet learned to look outside ourselves with worry about what others will think. We hadn’t yet begun to believe that it’s our job to make others happy.

We weren’t yet consumed with he-said/she-said, what-if or if/then thoughts around Who We Are

As children, we just simply ARE.

And then it begins to shift.

We’re told we’re “making” someone mad and we’re told we should be embarrassed of ourselves and so we decide to look to someone else’s thoughts and emotions without checking in with our own. We’re teased, or scoffed at for the things that previously left us wide-eyed with wonder, and so we choose to dull our excitement next time to play it cool. We’re punished for mistakes and graded for our attempts until we find it’s not safe to try new things or ask big, complicated questions that might have no answer.

And somewhere along the way we lose our spark and our adulthood becomes a journey back to ourselves, an obstacle course of beliefs and fears to meld what we always knew with what we’ve learned.

And really all we’re craving is to access that place within us that shines without fear.

Or maybe this was just my story. (But somehow I doubt it.)

Somewhere in my early 20′s I began to crave that spark I had let go of.

My craving manifested itself in the trying on of other women’s sparks.

I would see someone – all lit up and thriving and I would think to myself, “THAT is what I need; THAT is what I want.”

And somehow I would find myself unconsciously picking up words and tones in her voice.

I would find a shift like hers or cut my hair that way or get angry at my partner for not being like her partner, because THEN I could be happy.

I would think if only I had the things she had, I would feel that spark again.

I’m sure you know how that turned out. ;)

I felt more lost…and more confused than ever. I mean, I liked what she had and who she was. But it wasn’t working. What was real and what wasn’t?

That’s when the authenticity puppy started to nip me. In every action, in every word, every choice and every thought, I would hear my heart whisper, “Authenticity.”

And I would stop and ask myself, “What is truly authentic to me right now?”

Sometimes I would answer with, “Authentically, I want to call that guy an A-hole.”

But then I would feel the nip at my heel again and bring it back down to, “Authentically, I’m really hurt by what he said.”

That’s how it began. But this is how it ended.

I began to see those bright and vibrant women that so inspired me and think “I need her skirt! I need her laugh! I need her life!”

And I would feel the nip of authenticity asking me, “Tara, what is it you truly need?”

And my heart broke the first time I realized…I didn’t want the things she had.

I wanted a courage and confidence and vibrancy of my own. And that had nothing to do with what she had and I didn’t.

I looked at her and I craved that sense of joy in my bones and needed to laugh until my sides hurt. I wanted to burn with passion and purpose and have my only ache be from my hunger for life. I wanted to experience the adventure of living and to feel that unbreakable connection to the people I love.

And I want to feel that same connection with myself, too.

I began to see that I was so wrapped up in the means of what I wanted, the ideas of what “things” would get me to where she was that I failed to realize where “there” really was.

It was home.

Not home with my family or my house. It was that desire to find home in myself and dwell there fully without doubt or shame or guilt or fear.

I DIDN’T want the things she had. I wanted the feelings and the experience of living a full and courageous and vibrant life that I saw she lived. I wanted what I recognized in her about myself, my little self, the one I was before the fear and guilt and shame and doubt came into play.

And so I asked myself where to go from here…

But when I let go of what I thought I needed to find my way back…just like that, I started to find I was finally on my way.

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