The Arena of Beautiful: Publish, speak and reflect a more loving image of women in 2015

When Elizabeth Lauten criticized President Obama's daughters, my heart broke for women.

Again.

As the harsh story played out in November, I buffered, diffused, tried to accept, forgive, and -- most of all -- tried not to add suffering to the situation with gossip and mindless chatter.
 
By day three of abstaining, what I understood clearly is the extent to which the story was about me (and you), not just Ms. Laurent and the young Obama ladies.  The latter were just the latest casualties in the arena of women bashing women.

Enter the ring

What are your stories from the arena of bashing?

Did you pass through the arena in your youth or are you still playing there?  Were you hurt or were you more the one doing the injuring?
 
Were there bosses, mentors, mothers, sisters, friends, strangers fighting you in the arena?  How bad did it feel?  Was your skirt short or too long? 

There's a narrow zone for peace and calm inside this arena.

Were you someone who injured or were you hurt by another women in power?  If you did the injuring, be honest and tell us how it worked out?  Did you cause enough pain to get her out of your way? Or did she ultimately recover and move into her power anyway?

And to the spectator in the bleachers of the arena -- too removed from the action to believe that you yourself have any power to stop the blows -- what are you thinking from way up high?  Quite a good show, isn't it?

Heart, soul and consciousness

This is a complex arena and hard to cover in a blog.  My sense is that we are all in the arena, until we consciously remove ourselves from it.  We are all connected to the Laurent event and the suffering it caused.  Take a spin through the rings of suffering she set in motion:

• The shame triggered in the young ladies, followed closely by the outrage and secondary defense reactions of family and public officials;
• The shame Ms. Laurent felt for her injuring, followed by the fear and anxiety she experienced in her grand tumble down the backlash;
• The cold hearted eagerness of the media syndicating the story across channels with dispatch, on deadline, and without a note of tenderness;
• Then touch the energy of the millions of networked bystanders ingesting and metabolizing the details again and again, adding personal projections, prophecies, and pebbles to the signals hitting we women and our daughters.

On some level, this suffering is so totally socially acceptable it is nearly invisible to us.  We don't see it as our problem. Rather, many of us have a "What's the big deal?" reaction when someone behaves badly.  We gawk and then move on.

But that's the role of the bystander, the most fascinating character in the story.  It's also the seat of power in a social network.

Bystanders

Who are the bystanders? Am I a bystander if I don't say anything about the conflict?  Or am I a bystander because I don't say anything?

And, more importantly, what is the call to bystanders to help heal the nasty dynamic between women?

Are we bystanders awake enough to help? To bother shifting our consciousness?  Or is this right of passage better defaulted to another woman in America? A younger one? An older one? A more powerful, successful woman?  Someone with more time. 

The notion that we are all bystanders hits me hard ...

It is like crashing into an awareness of just how vast and connected the ecosystem of women's consciousness is and that it is time for me to clarify and cleanse my own tolerance for female bashing.

Why are we squandering a wonderful natural resource with infighting and violence against one another?  Celebrities, Politicians, Authority figures; it's everywhere today.

Healing the closed heart

To dismiss another woman's choices mercilessly and without compassion, limits one's own life and closes one's heart another notch.  This is true across the lifestages.  We need young pretty energy and risk taking just as much as we need the power of grandmothers. 

But a closed heart is so tempting, many of us believe it is worth fighting for.  I mean that a closed heart can help us feel safe by giving life more predictability, something many of us desperately desire.

In order to heal, the closed heart has to open.  The open hearted way is guaranteed to bring vulnerability and rawness inside.  It will rock your world with unpredictability and, ultimately, a sense of aliveness too.  But it is a true crossing to get there.  (See Brene Brown's amazing work if you want a deep dive in those lessons.)

A spiritual approach to loving other women

Observed from a spiritual perspective, the Laurent event reveals a call full of hunger and longing: hunger for a bigger role, a wider circle; hunger for community and hunger for more permanent contributions to the world.  These are universal longings that just need a better channel. 

Instead of attempts to shrink the young ladies she could learn how to seek authentic power by using a more mindful approach.   She could start by noticing herself reacting viciously and tune in to inquire.  She could slow down and ask herself spiritual reflections such as:

I am noticing her.  What is it that I see in her?  Why am I drawn to it? Can I name it?  Do I have that trait too? Why? Why not?  How are we alike? How are we different?  How is this inquiry making me feel? What else am I noticing?

Then the inquiry can move into a richer place.  She could learn to consider her reflections then query herself with:

Can I love her?  Is she worthy?  Am I worthy too?

The answer is always and forever, YES.

This is the path to compassion and power, the path to The Arena of the Beautiful.
 

Flipping the switch, updating the social code

This event gives all of us an invitation to curb our unconscious bystanding of women bashing women.  It is an invitation to  Play Big, as Tara Mohr encourages in her work and her writing. 

My experience is that the most powerful pain and shame triggers are transmitted woman to woman.  Because women hold so much of the social code, updating this out-of-date algorithm makes sense.

We will only do it by updating our consciousness and raising our vibration.

Why continue to watch and wait on ideas that keep women isolated and separated instead of together and collaborating -- or even better, dancing? Flip the switch to Conscious.

Publish, speak and reflect a more loving image of women in 2015

I get dinged for being too sensitive, too contemplative ...  it's part of my wiring and I let it out in my writing.  To push myself to put skin in this game, I commit to hitting the publish button on this post as an active step to publish, speak and reflect a more loving image of women in 2015. (I have been keeping the post in draft mode for more than a week!):

In fact, I have more than 50 draft posts I am too chicken to post so hitting PUBLISH is a big step into THE ARENA of Beautiful for me.

Further, I promise that in 2015 I will seek out -- thoughtfully -- ways to celebrate and acknowledge the variety of great women in my midst.  This is one way I will deepen my practice of acceptance.

When another woman says something that makes me feel disparaged or ashamed about how I look or how I am dressed or how I behaved, I'll do my best to mention it to her.  To keep it real and find out what the trouble was.

AND, I'll notice when she is disparaging herself so that I may step in for the Divine.  I'll stick up for her and invite her into The Arena of Beautiful where there is plenty of room and lots of networking opportunities.  Join us?

Play like a girl

I played a cut-throat competitive volleyball game at my community rec center last night. The weekly session was advertised as "Adult Co-Ed Pick-up Volleyball", so I thought it would be fun, as well as a great workout.

I showed up with three humble expectations; dust-off my game, burn some calories, have fun.  My daughter wanted to spend an hour+ in the nearby weight room, so it was a family exercise "win-win" of the best kind.

I love to play volleyball and know the fundamentals well. I have a mean serve, a steady bump (that can handle a lot of heat), and once in a while I even manage to make a winning set.  When considering whether I'd be able to keep up with the others, I estimated that my game would be about 80% Rec-League ready.   I was wrong. 

 

I forgot that I should have measured my abilities according to the "fit male with no kids" standard of play.  Oops, right away my score went down.

When I arrived at the gorgeous, state-of-the-art gymnasium, delighted by the low price of admission and the opportunity to play for a couple of hours on two regulation-sized courts with a diverse group of adult players, I was surprised to observe only a few other women in the mix (out of approximately 25).

Before my play could be evaluated fairly, I felt already like an "undesirable", given my age and gender.  They meant business; no one took time for intros, no one smiled at me, no one wanted to mix.  Two of my male teammates sandwiched me out of adequate positioning repeatedly, until I earned acceptance into the "fit male without kids" tribe.  Silly me to forget that of course they assumed I couldn't make an impact. 

It took a muscle of a different mother to stay in that game and persevere.  But I did. I stayed in and won and lost shots not to prove myself and my abilities, so much as to train myself how to endure this kind of hostile energy when it threatens one's core confidence and freedom to play. Volleyball at a rec center is play.

After 90 minutes of consistent, winning serves, feeds and set-ups, our match broke with the side I was on the obvious overall evening winner.  It was time to reassemble. The play was fast and I still knew no one's name when it was time for me to go.  Although I was drenched with perspiration and had a few "gym burns" as badges, I didn't think the evening was much "fun".  It felt like I was on trial.

... But I just might go back next week. Here's why:

That 90 minute volleyball session taught me and perhaps my middle-school age daughter who stood watching for the last twenty minutes, so much more than the lighthearted play session I had envisioned.  What happened on that court happens at every meeting. It is the real deal and whatever my invisibility was at minute one on "the court of fit males", my daughter saw me playing and succeeding 90 minutes later.  Plus, seeing one's daughter fist-pumping for her mom provides an unnamed health benefit no mother should live without!

 

So ... play like a girl. Don't quit, ever. Play in all ages, shapes and sizes and stay in the game. Because this IS the game.  This is the ONLY game and by playing we stay relevant; we show up; we join teams and win points; we contribute to society.  Cardio-lifts are a mere bonus. 

And while I would never ask any of my male compadres from last night's game to stay home next week (their level of play was exciting!), I would like to give them a maternal scolding of sorts to nudge them.  Guys, a winning team at the rec level is a balanced team; think screaming spike shot meets consistent, well-placed serve.  Let's play together ...

Later on at home,  after I had recounted the experience to my son he said it sounded  "like life with a bully on the fifth grade playground". Maybe he's right.

 

Maybe I should expect this, but I am always surprised.  Perhaps it would be better if I treated these encounters like those always-engaging recycled plots from Animal Planet; the ones about tricky rodents and pests interrupting domestic bliss.  Rodents and encounters with invisibility are just part of our lives and we have to defend against them.

Something to consider. But with the convention in Charlotte underway, I didn't want anyone at our house, neither my son nor my daughter, to miss the First Lady's speech to the American people. We shifted our focus and settled in for the evening, just as we had a week earlier to listen to Ann Romney's address.

Let go or be dragged

I have a friend who builds piers. He defends dry land against the force of oceans, tides, and rising waters. You might think he's a burly dude, into all his heavy equipment and massive impact. But not so much. He's about the smart trade-off; minimizing damage done. 

When my friend recently shared the expression, "Let go or be dragged," I knew it was a keeper. I've never heard of a better way to describe the pain caused by a failure to let go. How about you? Can you find an incidence of being "dragged" in your own life? Would letting go help?

"Let go or be dragged" ... It's quite a handy little phrase.

***

Choosing growth

Michele Woodward is a personal coach who really knows her stuff. Yesterday she posted, "Finally Un-stuck" and I think it is so important that I just have to excerpt it here:

... 
Stuck is a nerve-wracking place.  And takes a ton of energy.  So much energy, in fact, that it’s hard to find the oomph to do anything other than be stuck.

People who are stuck often face some kind of big decision or life change.  And they torment themselves with, “Is this the right choice? What if I make a mistake?”

That is the stuck place.  Can’t move forward for fear of doing something wrong, and can’t go back due to the space-time continuum, so… stay stuck.

There’s only one way to break through the muck and get un-stuck. And that is to reframe the question from, “Is this the right choice?” to “Am I choosing growth?”
...

What great advice. Having a flexible framework that serves as a decision aid is a super idea and one worth sharing. I'm definitely choosing growth!

Read the whole post here.

Shy, introverted ... connected

Check out this great presentation by Sacha Chua. The message is useful for kids too.

View more presentations from Sacha Chua.

Done is better than perfect

Always. Repeat: Done is better than perfect.

3 more imperfect posts:
Poem for America
The yoga of flux
Cooking without a recipe

November, softly

___________________________

I feel timid lately
In between and vague
Perhaps it is that change in weather
Or daylight's slower tempo.
November brings a change in heart
Reminding me that this season
Always lasts through winter.
___________________________

Forgiveness feels better

Pack up the Halloween costume and before the candy is eaten, we are organizing pies and borrowing chairs from neighbors to accommodate extra guests crashing the Thanksgiving party.

That's if you're lucky!

In the unwritten American family story -- the story that started with the Mayflower -- Thanksgiving kicks off the eye-rolling season. The grudge parade gets going, and before you know it, assorted old roles and disappointments end up featured in the weekend celebration as prominently as a decorative cornucopia centerpiece.

Whatever the rub (and I don't mean the rosemary and sage herb rub on the turkey's back) I mean the pain on your plate, you need a plan. This season I won't be stuffing the pain, or passing it on a serving platter to others. This season I am going to try something else: Forgiveness.

But what is forgiveness? According to Psych Central,

Forgiveness is letting go of the need for revenge and releasing negative thoughts of bitterness and resentment. ... Forgiveness is a gift we give ourselves.

What forgiveness is not:

• Forgiveness is not forgetting or pretending it didn’t happen.
  
• Forgiveness is not excusing. (We excuse a person who is not to blame. We forgive because a wrong was committed.)
• Forgiveness is not reconciliation. (We have to make a separate decision about whether to reconcile with the person we are forgiving or whether to maintain our distance.)

While forgiveness can be difficult, holding onto grudges allows more stress to take root in your body. But let's be real: Anyone who's ever held a grudge knows that grudges come in pretty handy.

In fact, I notice that grudges allow me to hide from the strong feelings of fear and uncertainty that true forgiveness brings. Sort of like ... If I really let this (her/him/it) go, then what? What does that really mean? Who will I blame? How will this redefine me?

I know forgiveness feels better but ... sometimes it is harder ;-)

Wii love to play together

Last night we joined the ranks of 2-TV families. This was a big step for me as I am pretty stingy with screen time and feel that TVs, like bathrooms, should be shared during one's early years.

There were two forces behind the big acquisition:

• The au pair doesn't like the same TV shows as her host parents
  
• The kids are dying to play the Wii at home, instead of at their friends' houses all the time
  

Home should be fun, no doubt. My challenge is determining exactly how much fun home should be. I expect I'll be writing more about this in the future. ...

When the spirit moves you

I haven't gone to church in a while. That's unusual for me. I like church, even while I dislike some of the politics, the crowd, or the sense of righteousness that often accompanies churchgoing in general.

I grew up going to Catholic mass. (Now, when I attend, it is an Episcopal service I attend.) As a child, we usually hit folk mass. I loved singing along. I also loved spotting Mr.Jr.Crush with his family in a nearby row. I had a terrible crush on him and folk mass was my special occasion to feel closer to him. Dad would stop and pick up donuts after church, so a sweet sugar high was the perfect ending to the morning.

I couldn't tell you much about my spiritual education as a child, just that I was taught that there was "right" and "wrong," that I should resist evil, and that I loved wearing white for my First Holy Communion. My mother made my beautiful dress for that day. My father bought my corsage. My Godmother chose the cross I wore. I felt holy and lovely and part of things greater than my small, awkward life.

Never superior or chosen, just part of things greater than myself.

Church these days feels a bit more complicated, of course. Still, I am drawn to sermons, to music and to light. While at times I am cynical, I still have faith that we are part of something greater than our small lives. The majesty of it all.

When a woman sets her mind to something ...

I'm impressed when I meet a women who has put her mind to building a professional life that suits her mothering style and is starting to see some benefit to that effort. Usually, I am impressed because before she sees any upside, she's had to wrestle with self doubt, change, and uncertainty for a good long while — long enough to cause her to wonder whether she is on the right path.

There are so many angles to consider on this topic — financial concerns, childcare concerns, parenting preferences, spousal support, field of interest — that it is difficult even to showcase a few success stories in this blog without realizing that you've over simplified the issue and need to give space to at-home moms that inspire too.

So, why not together get a link list of women who have set their minds to something. It could be a business or a personal goal. It could be anything that inspires! How about you? Are you wanting to put your mind to something? Use the comments to send it in ... I'll get us started:

There is a women at work who is mother to three adult children. One of these children, a daughter, has serious special needs that demand a lot from her. She has a son in Iraq, her second daughter moving home with an infant, and a full time job in accounts payable. She inspires me because she is full of life and laughter in spite (or because) of the complexity of her life. She is also a wonderful cook and shares delicious baked goods with our office frequently.

Click on comments form to contribute your "When a woman sets her mind to something ..." inspiration:

______________________

A poem for sunrise after America elects a new President

Promises, promises
The hope arrives
Turning again
Our American eyes ...

Rising up
Our cycle anew
Waking the people
Along with you

Peace and patience
Stay at our side
The incline is steep
The water so wide

Let us pause for this moment
While the day breaks on
Acknowledging that in nature
Power lives beyond

This single moment
In pursuit of tomorrow
Enduring bad weather
Transforming great sorrow

- Coco

The trouble with sugar and carbs

This always happens: A day or two after Halloween I want my family off sugar. It's not that we are gorging on Halloween candy, or that we have lots of cakes around the house. It is that our energy is too high for the activity levels we keep this time of year, with the cooler temperatures and the shorter days curbing our enthusiasm for the outdoors.

You know it is the truth when I say that sugar lives to turn up the volume — to amp up the energy level in the body. So, if I am giving my kids sugar but not giving them ample opportunity to dash around and burn that energy off, I am subjecting myself to drama in the house.

Both of my kids are reactive to food. Minutes after eating French Toast or Pancakes (with true maple syrup), they will become highly aroused, impulsive, jumpy. (We've stopped preparing these foods for breakfast because the fistacuffs and noise levels became unbearable.) When I served milk and bacon along with the pancakes I noticed the problem was slightly less pronounced. The protein slowed the reactions down but the meal still wasn't creating a true balance in the body.

A better solution (and I'll be putting it into play this week) is to organize a few more whole foods for the morning. A wonderful hot morning food without sugar is popovers. My friend Eliza turned me onto them a long time ago and we just love them fresh out of the oven.

Other good ideas are homemade granola, nuts, Smart Bars. I might even get the Irish oatmeal going on the stovetop. Oh, and I can't forget that Kefir drinks also help create a soothing balance.

Popular posts from the past:
Fish hospice and other pet tales that hurt
Dads and daughters: Is touching safe?
That girl, young and twenty-something

Fun at the farm

Fresh air, the mysterious night ...
Pumpkins aglow ... everything
Just right!

Coco's weekly meal plan: Kid tested

When I returned to work a year ago I quickly realized that "creating" dinner the way I used to was unsustainable. My kids were tired, I was tired, homework and showers needed to happen, evening activities were calling. I couldn't just dash out for a few ingredients. It was too much. That's when I started to research meal plans and had a "come-to-Jesus" moment with myself about overdoing simple weekday meals to my detriment.

It wasn't a surprise that I was called to reckon my love for interesting, spontaneous cooking with fresh market ingredients, and my need to be an effective family manager and plan in advance. I had had years of training as a cook. First, at various catering companies in the Hamptons, where Ina Garten's Barefoot Contessa was the standard, then later at the Cambridge School of Culinary Arts, in Cambridge, Massachusetts where the repertoire was a bit more corporate. I also had plenty of "free" time (although it never felt that way at the time, I see it now).

I wouldn't be telling you the whole truth if I told you that adapting and sticking with a meal plan was simple for me and my family. We're seriously unconventional in many ways and the meal plan felt like another suburbanization of my life. I didn't want to let go of my first love! But through trial and error, I was able to put together a routine in the family kitchen that continues to support us. It feels balanced, healthy and simple, with enough room for accommodation for independent likes and dislikes to satisfy most of us, most of the time. Here's my boiled-down version:

Monday - Hot Potato night
Hot locally grown baked potatoes
Toppings (some of the favorites include shredded cheese, unsalted butter, scallions, chili, green veggies, salt & pepper, sour cream, etc.)
Something fresh like salad or a veggie plate
Dessert is optional (usually fruit)

Tuesday - "Taco" night
Hot jasmine or brown rice
Browned turkey breast seasoned w/ Taco spices
Served in a bowl, burrito or taco
Toppings: lettuce, avocado or guacamole, salsa
Big salad or fresh fruit plate
Dessert is optional

Wednesday - Pasta night!
Hot pasta - fresh or dry
Bottled or homemade sauce, or garlic/butter/oil
Garlic bread (homemade or store bought)
Salad with a cheesy dressing
Dessert is optional

Thursday - Take a break!
Take-out night
Budget healthy take-out
(This is the night that is the least nutritious, BTW)
Dessert is optional

Friday - Turn up the spice for the weekend!
Hot roasted Bell & Evans chicken or fish seasoned w/ curry or other spices
Couscous
Cooked veggie medley
Something for dessert!
Eat in the dining room. Light a candle or two!

Weekends are more freestyle and usually include lunch:
Saturday
Inventive and spontaneous (with or w/out the kids)
Eat in the dining room

Sunday - Whiffle ball night
SIMPLE Picnic or pizza for whiffle ball in the park
(This will change soon, when the season is over)

Beverages
At each meal, the kids have a choice of:
2% milk, water, cider, sparkling
Adults might have:
sparkling, wine, beer, water

Dessert
Fruit
Kefir drinks or yogurt
Graham crackers in milk, eaten with a spoon
Chocolate pudding from KoziShack
A homemade dessert

Road trip: New York

After work on Thursday I packed up the kids and Au Pair 2.0 (she's lovely, btw) for a much-needed road trip north to The Big Apple.

New York wakes me up. I could hardly sleep the first night. I was thinking about new colleagues, family and friends that still live in and around the city, and all the terrific food and music to be enjoyed.

Photo: Brooklyn Bridge (The view near offices of company 2.0)

Coco's yoga pose

I have been so full of bull lately ... Between managing the daily machine, going through transitions at work, training the au pair, intervening with the school principal and "accepting" the financial crisis while we hustle my husband through his busiest time (election season), I feel like my life is one big compromise. One giant yoga pose.

I feel the urge for a major "Me First" pose coming. Something like horizontal, face down in a pillow ... hold for 700,000,000,000 dollars, I mean seconds.

But that's just not me. I can't do it. I keep believing that we'll get through these tough times and that balance will be restored. What is the difference between denial and maturity anyway?

PopeMobile

Brooks shot this picture of the PopeMobile passing the White House. You can see the Pope.

But when the PopeMobile passed me at DuPont Circle this afternoon there were sirens and an entourage, but no Pope. The PopeMobile was empty! Gasp!

The beautiful moment came when I saw my own reflection bouncing back from the bullet proof glass window. That image made me smile.

Help me, my attention span is...Did you hear how...What?

Ever wonder how much energy fish used to grow legs? Answer: A lot.

Why do you already know this? Because while you're not growing legs, you are growing something ... and dare I surmise that "growing" anything takes a whole lot of energy.

But since you probably hate this metaphor, I'll make my 2nd point quickly: Those fish were probably STRESSED OUT trying to get out of the pond and onto land. Could be that they were, indeed, even chased out. Even worse, they probably had no idea that they were growing legs.

Are you growing something evolutionarily useful these days, something like, "tolerance" or "endurance" ???

What about "focus?" Is that trait still useful? Or have our attention spans been sliced and diced into something less useful than a late-night pitch product on the cable channels. I know I type-pad so much that my handwriting has atrophied...but my typing has really improved.

Oops, gotta go, a device beckons. Lemme see who. Oh, that was my husband's device. Shit, I just spilled my coffee. Ugh, oh well no biggie, I'm back now. Fresh cup. Okay, so. Oh? Um. It was like - oh,

Where was I?

How to make a Christmas wish list

A long time ago, I learned that I could make the annual Christmas wish list tradition a lot of fun if I got the focus off of gifts and onto values...

First, I picked a date for hot cocoa and wish lists. I set the counter up as I might for a craft project by putting out pencils, erasers, colored markers, catalogs, whole punches, etc.

Second, I showed each of the kids how to start a letter to Santa.

Third, I let the kids draft out their long lists of wishes. They could put anything (and as many things as) they wanted on their lists - no editing or shoulds allowed from mom.

The lists were very long and included big deals such as Guinea Pigs, slide projectors, new bicycles and skateboards, as well as little deals such as lip gloss and candy.

Finally, and this is the magical part, I asked them to take their long lists and to choose something for their head, (books or knowledge-based learning), something for their heart (an animal to love, athletic equipment), something for their hands (yarn for knitting, blocks, or projects to build and cook), and something for our home (a family game, a supply of fancy paper, new pastels).

As the children made trade-offs, I talked to them about balance and about happiness being a sign of a person using many of his or her gifts throughout a lifetime. They seemed to understand the connection, but expect a lot of discussion, negotiation, even some disappointments...

Finally, they wrote up their edited lists on a fresh piece of paper to Santa and decorated it. If there was anything either of them felt really strongly about including (in addition to the 4-Hs), we would just keep talking about it. I even asked them to add one wish for someone else . . . to integrate the idea of charitable giving.

This approach to how to make a Christmas wish list takes time and some thought. But it can help ease the blind consumerism the tradition can bring ... while transforming it into a mini plan.

I like that the kids are learning simple consciousness about their wishes, something I still practice myself. And while they won't get everything on their lists, they deal with the disappointments before Christmas morning. That makes "a little room" for the spirit of Christmas to come in.