Letting go of relationships, possessions, habits, activities—anything we’ve grown attached to—is one of the most difficult, yet necessary parts of personal growth. It is akin to shedding old skin. In order to make room for the new skin or the new aspects of our lives, we must inevitably part with the old. Sometimes this means we need to say goodbye to negative relationships which are holding us back from realizing our potential. Other times it means moving to a new place in order to take advantage of new opportunities. Regardless of what it is, we are faced with severing a connection with something which is comfortable and familiar and exchanging it with something unknown. This can be a frightening experience, and one which may have pain and loss associated with it.

Sometimes we have to give up something which we know is in our own best interest to give up. However, in spite of this knowledge, we still don’t want to let go of it. We may become stubborn and resistant. We may decide to quit pursuing our dreams for awhile, deciding that success requires too much of us. That’s okay, for awhile.

Rebellion can be healthy if not taken too far. Holding onto bad habits or unhealthy, stressful situations can in some cases help us to see the cost they are exacting. We cling on, fighting change, feeling miserable, but righteous because we are in control. Over time this clinging drains us of the inspiration and positive energy we once felt at the prospect of turning our lives around, of finally taking steps to make our dreams a reality. We wonder why we lost touch with our vision.

When a cup is full, no more liquid can be poured into it. In order to add fresh liquid, the cup must be emptied first. So, too with our lives. We need to make room for new ideas, new opportunities, new ways of being. If our lives are too full of clutter, there is no room for anything new.

How will you know what to let got of? In a cluttered room it is difficult to see what is worth keeping and what must go.  Therefore, one must begin to organize and take stock of the various elements of one’s life. As you begin this process, begin to ask yourself, which of these things will help me to lead a healthy balanced life, and which of these things will hold me back? If you are looking at a work situation, observe your energy level when you are engaged in it. If you feel depleted afterwards, then take steps to replace it. If you still find some reward and some energy and satisfaction from doing it, then perhaps it is worth keeping around for a little while. Everything can be measured in terms of you overall ultimate goal. What fits and what doesn’t fit into the vision you have for a successful, fulfilling life?

Another way to decide if you want to continue participating in something is to ask yourself, if you had six months to live, would you still do it? Use death as an ally. We are all going to die and most of us don’t know when our time will be up.  Therefore, I urge you to use your time wisely. Don’t waste it or throw it away. If anything feels as though it is wasting your time, eliminate it from your life. To see the benefits, find something right now that is small, that you want to eliminate form you life, some old clothes, old books or furniture. Give them away as soon as possible. Lighten your load.  Now you have more room in your closets, on your shelves or in the rooms of your house. You can now leave the space open for awhile or replace it with something new, something which better reflects the direction your life is headed.

Remember closing old doors, is a signal to the universe that you are ready to open new ones. When you are willing to let go of old things, you become a magnet for new opportunities. How do I know this? I’ve witnessed it dozens of times in my own life and in the lives of others. The only way you will know for sure is if you try it for yourself.

Think of your life as a living experiment or think tank, and it will become suddenly wondrous to you, and exhilarating. Lessons surround us and life rewards us when we respect its ability to teach us.

A house is a metaphor for consciousness. It represents the structure of our lives. Sometimes that structure becomes unstable or the foundation becomes weak. Sometimes the roof needs to be repaired or it needs a new paint job. Sometimes we decide to renovate part of it or make it bigger.

Some of us stay in the same place for years. Others move from place to place. Each has its wisdom and its downside.

What does your house or structure say about you? What do the contents of that structure say? How attached are you to that structure? How much do you identify with it?

I see the structure of our lives as the beliefs, ideas, concepts, values and perceptions we have. Much of that structure was imparted to us by parents, family members, teachers, neighbors, the media, etc. Very little is based in original thought.

I see this structure as a bunch of sentences, statements and equations that we carry around with us wherever we go. These statements make up the filter through which we view our world, they are the foundation upon which we base our decisions, and they are our greatest source of suffering.

To see what structure you’re carrying around, you can begin by simply noticing what you think and what you say to others. Pay attention to statements that have the words “always” and “never” in them as well as statements that contain absolutes in them or assert a position around anything. These types of statements are rigid and typically hold a lot of power in their ability to influence your behavior.

There have been studies that show that we limit ourselves to thinking repeating thoughts throughout the day. Our range is rather small. You might not notice this until you start to pay attention to these thoughts. Think of them as a ticker tape running through your life all day and night. Doesn’t it make sense to find out what you actually think and believe?

Once you do, you may not like what you see and you may have the impulse to burn it down. Those underlying feelings of discontent, restlessness, agitation and depression are the current of life pulsing through your being pushing you to grow beyond these stale, outworn beliefs, most of which were adopted from other people anyway and may not even be authentic for you.

Are you more than the sum total of your history? Of  course you are. But you may never know who you really are with all that clutter and debris in the way.

So I say, by all means burn it down. Or at least open the windows, let in some light and start throwing stuff out. Literally toss it out the windows if you can. Make room for what’s real and authentic. The rest was only borrowed anyway. Let it go. Free yourself up.  Move into the future with a lighter load.

Without the past weighing you down you open yourself up to new possibilities, new choices and ways of being not available to the person you believed you were. Wipe the slate clean. Start over. Surprise people with the new you. Release the worry about what others will think, say and do. Trust your voice above all others.

Once you burn down your old house, you are then free to build a new one. Perhaps you will choose to build a less solid structure this time. Perhaps you will live in a tent or a yurt for awhile. Perhaps you will become nomadic and experience a multitude of new structures without building one of your own for awhile.

Whatever you decide, you will know that you can no longer return to what was. You can honor the past and grieve its loss, but there is no going back. Letting go of your personal history–your story–is a powerful act of rebellion. It is when you become the greatest advocate for yourself. You reclaim and retrieve what is needed and walk away from the rest. This does not mean that you cut all ties, but rather it means that you rise above those biographical, ancestral limitations and allow yourself to express yourself as you really are.

Unencumbered by the past, you are free to become a child again. You become open and receptive and teachable again. The mind and heart become energized by having new options, and being no longer restricted by our thoughts of what we can and cannot do or have or be.

This childlike state makes life feel magical and exciting. This is where we find joy. Most of us had glimpses of this simple feeling when we were children, but over time it got crushed by all the responsibilities and duties and obligations to participate in the societal machine.

We can say no to this freedom killer and yes to ourselves. We can burn down the old ways and build anew. All it takes is the desire and the courage to be free above all else. Once we have that desire, the rest will take care of itself.

Begin now by paying attention to your thoughts and words. Take nothing at face value. Question everything. Before long, you will notice your being begins to stir as if awakening from a long sleep. You will be breathing new life into an old structure. This is the invitation your being was waiting for. Now follow it where it wants to go. You will be amazed at where it takes you.

Life is a wonder and a mystery. We move through it under the strong illusion that we have some degree of control of it or at least our personal corner. On the surface at least, we don’t, and life does not hesitate to remind of this regularly.

But there is something deeper here…a paradox to be sure. There is a deep place within us that is connected to the Whole of ALL THAT IS. It is in this connection that we can tap into something deeper. This is the place where we can see the bigger picture and recognize the Divine Perfection all around us. It is the place where we can laugh at what is unfolding and not take it so seriously. This is also the place where we can get freed up of all of that drama and biographical, genetic, ancestral and societal baggage we keep dragging around with us.

As small children, we are powerfully imprinted by our early experiences, both good and bad. It is where our first impressions of love, relationships and the world are made. Depending on whether those early experiences were positive and uplifting or dark and traumatic or somewhere in between, they shape our perception and ways of navigating through the world.

If we grow up on a starvation diet devoid of much attention and affection, that becomes our normal because we don’t know what a full meal tastes like. Because it feels normal, we will tend to perpetuate that diet and attract people and circumstances into our lives that only partially feed us.

To stop carrying those early imprints with us, we need to heal and release the thoughts and beliefs about the world they created. Often they are so much a part of us, that we cannot even see them. But in spite of their invisibility, they shape and influence every decision we make.

For someone who is used to being deprived, learning to receive love and attention and affection, is a major healing event. It is a process of unwinding and unraveling all of those deeply ingrained ways of being, reacting and moving and opening the channel for a new level of aliveness.

In order to do what it believes will keep us safe, our subconscious sabotages all of our desires and needs and deep cravings to grow and change. This saboteur affects everything we do. To really heal these subterranean levels of fear, we need to connect with something greater. To reduce the imagined threat of releasing our old way of being, we need to remember who we are.

This is nothing short of dying to what was and being reborn to what is. It is where we will find real freedom. It is where we will find our authentic voice. It is where we will learn what it means to be alive.

We, perhaps for the first time, will be back in the driver’s seat of our lives, rather than feeling like some rogue part of ourselves is behind the wheel.

This is not really about control, but rather surrender and allowing and being with what is at a very high level of acceptance. Control is about the need to survive. When we begin to taste freedom, we no longer feel in danger and so no longer need to control things. We are no longer out of alignment with what is before us and what is unfolding. The feeling of being out of sync was simply all that noise from our subconscious trying to survive what it perceived to be a very confusing world.

There are many modalities that allow us to release our early scripts and beliefs. When we are ready to really let go, we will find them.

In the meantime, take a look at your circumstances and relationships. Notice any repeating themes or patterns? Feelings of powerlessness and frustration? A sense of moving ten steps forward and two back? A gnawing feeling of being victimized, but with no clue how to shake the feeling or change your circumstances?

That’s it. Keep paying attention to it. Call it forth from the shadows into the light of day. Watch what happens when a little bit of awareness creeps in. The power and intensity starts to diminish. Exposure is half the battle.

It’s as if you’ve discovered a few stowaways living inside of you…long-term house guests, and it’s time to show them the door.

For that you may need help, because these squatters aren’t usually so keen on leaving. They will do anything to convince you they are helping you and that you cannot survive without them. An objective person can help you to hold steady and not be swayed or undermined by such tactics.

Sometimes you have to sneak up on them and trick them into leaving. Whatever it takes, whatever modalities you choose, by all means stand firm. Give them a hug, thank them for serving you, but don’t forget to lock the door once they’re gone.

How far are you willing to go to be authentic?  At what point do you decide to compromise yourself and accommodate others? How much compromise/accommodation is really necessary in our relationships, our work, our lives?

My answer today, in this moment, is hopefully very little. I don’t know about you, but I just can’t do the self-betrayal thing any more. My body just won’t move in that direction. The resistance that comes up feels like I’d have to move a mountain of bricks to do something I really don’t want to do. My whole being shuts down energetically if it even gets a whiff of sacrifice in the air.

Does this mean I am selfish or that I don’t like doing things for others? Of course not. But when it comes to giving, I’d rather step into the stream of effortless flow where the giving bubbles to the surface naturally and just moves me in that direction. My heart expands with joy when I give from that place. Besides no one wants to receive something from someone who doesn’t have it to give or who tangles the giving in a web of expectations and resentment.

No thanks. Don’t bother.

We all need to feed and nourish ourselves. Take time out and recharge and restore ourselves. When we are fed and nourished, the desire to give comes more readily. So many of us live on a self-starvation diet, depleting our stores of energy in exchange for money or some other commodity, that we’ve forgotten what really listening to our own needs even feels like.

It doesn’t have to be like that, even down to the simplest level. If you hate getting up early in the morning and that is truly authentic for you, find a way to structure your life to support that. If being alone helps you to feel grounded and centered again, make sure you have enough solitude in your schedule. If it’s authentic for you to be in nature on a regular basis, then make life choices around that.

Too much compromise and sacrifice makes us cranky. Long periods of habitual self-betrayal can wear deep grooves in our psyches, leaving us depressed or angry or full of anxiety. Allowed to go on long enough and you’re creating fertile ground for a major illness, a meltdown or both.

Not a pretty picture. And certainly not worth it.

So what to do? Stop it! Right now. Just stop.

Take a breath and step back from your life and assess the damage. In what areas of your life are you betraying yourself? In what areas do you deny your needs in favor of another’s? In what areas of your life is it more important to be liked and approved of than it is to follow your own way? How much of yourself do you sacrifice (negotiate) in order to get something you want or hang onto something you have?

On the flip side, how much do you expect others to sacrifice or compromise on your behalf?

Can we all just put an end to this unnecessary martyrdom and suffering?

I think we can, without too much fall out. Most radical change requires going to the opposite extreme. You may have to start by simply practicing the fine art of saying no. To everyone. Or at least to as many people as you can get away with for as long as it takes to break the habit of saying yes when you’d rather not.

Another thing that helps is to start paying attention to your body and your energy levels. If something drains the shit out of you…by all means, don’t do it. If it energizes and excites you, obviously, say yes.

Sounds so simple, but most of us have developed a pretty strong override button that effectively silences our needs in one fell swoop, essentially taking us out of any equation that comes up. Because our needs are cut off, we aren’t factored in. Instead, we simply move into and through our lives on automatic pilot reacting to things and putting out fires, without regard to the inner yearnings of our souls.

People aren’t mind readers. You have to know what you want and ask for it. You have to stake your claim or you will get walked on or at least left out. Yes, it’s uncomfortable, but the juicy, fun part of life happens when we engage with it full out with our entire being.

So stop censoring yourself. Stop holding back. Stop second guessing yourself. And for God’s sake, stop worrying about what other people think.

Create the space for the real you to emerge. Then, and only then, will you be free to give.

I’ve been watching the first season of David Lynch’s show, Twin Peaks. It’s been years since the show aired and yet, during all that time, I somehow missed it. I’ve seen many of his movies, so I was prepared for the intensity and the dark-angled view of life’s edges and eccentricities and outright naked rawness through which he turns the lens on humanity. The recognizable musical arrangements as well as his absolute obsession with the colors green and red, make the show familiar territory for any Lynch fan.

However, two things struck me.

The first is that the show is set in fictional Twin Peaks, Washington, but was filmed in North Bend, Washington, a half an hour away from Seattle, where I now live. Now granted I’ve only been in the actual town once, but I walked around it quite a bit and ate in the very café which serves as the centerpiece of many scenes in the show. I have also been to the falls that appear in a few shots as well as a backdrop for the opening credits.

The second is Lynch’s uncanny ability to brutally and without apology penetrate through the superficial levels of human niceties and get right to the ribbon of uniqueness that sets each on of us apart. He seems to hold a parallel fascination with what holds us together and what separates us in our relationships with each other. He grabs onto the tentacles of our deep-seated alienation and squeezes it for all the blood has can extract. He dips us into the deepest, coldest darkest water he can and holds us there until we admit that we, too, are just as crazy or afraid or odd or horny or dangerous as his characters.

And doing that in the place I now call home makes it all the more alluring (for me) to watch.

In fact, I cannot look away. And he knows it. He’s the Diane Arbus of filmmaking and making us uncomfortable is part of what drives him. This discomfort lands us in territories of feelings and thoughts and even dreams that feel both forbidden and in many ways, we think, better off forgotten. We prefer to skate along the surface of life, ignoring as much as possible, the subterranean murkiness underneath. But like a carnival sideshow barker at the old time fairs, he appeals to our voyeuristic tendencies and beckons us to come and look at the freaks inside the tent.

Of course, the freaks are us.

So then, what is it that draws us inside? Curiosity? Fascination? Empathy? Horror? Probably all of those things. Lynch turns our absolute confusion over life’s meaning on it’s head by showing us the absurdity of those little daily things that most of us most pass by with little or no consciousness. He’s almost screaming at us to wake up and look at the FULL range of human experience, soak it in and look at it in all it’s unadulterated glory.

He wants to immerse us in the full gestalt of life and he does this by exaggerating his characters until they almost become caricatures. This technique shines a big magnifying glass on all the blemishes, quirks, secrets, scars, wounds so that we can really see them. You can actually feel this discomfort on both a physical and an emotional level as it seeps in and spreads over your being like a pool of oily liquid. Then once Lynch has you there, he lingers for awhile, plays with the music or some lighting effects and just makes you wait it out. Because he doesn’t work with the same timing we’re used to with other shows or films. No, he operates in his own self-created world with it’s own set of rules, and by entering into it, you’ve agreed to follow them.

It feels a bit manipulative, but somehow also ingenious. No one even comes close to exploring these realms in the way he does. He is bold and brave and willing to go places few others dare to go.

Which brings me back to where I live. Though I’ve only lived in Washington State for a year, I can see how it was the perfect place to film Twin Peaks. Why? Because as sophisticated as the city of Seattle appears, it, and the area surrounding it, still make up the wild, wild West, and as they have for centuries, people come here to get away from the conventions and restrictions of other parts of the country. There’s more space and less pressure to conform, which can and does result in a fair amount of bizarre behavior. People who might not feel comfortable or fit in somewhere else, might find a cozy little neighborhood or town out here where their odd taste for clothing or strange hobbies and behaviors will be tolerated.

I suppose that’s a good thing. It’s certainly never dull. No, instead, it is lush and ripe with a broad range of human expression, especially when you tune in and are receptive to it. If you’re not sure what I mean by that, try looking at the world around you the way Lynch does. Penetrate the layers. Push past the obvious. Submerge into the depths. And see, really see what is right in front of you. You may be surprised and disturbed by what you see, but at least you will finally be seeing. And that, my friend, is what it means to truly be alive.

One of the best ways to penetrate through the mundane states of being is to step back and question why we do the things we do. What is it that compels us to follow a set of rules that oftentimes costs us dearly in terms of our freedom and autonomy and authenticity?

We conform because it typically serves the greater good, even if it inconveniences us. For the most part, this works. However, sometimes rules simply cease to work or never worked in the first place and need to be looked at and changed. Instead, they are held to because people fear change or get stuck in the “this is the way we’ve always done it” mentality.

My father questioned our man-made rules, often to an extreme. In fact, he perpetuated a mythology that fostered a family-held belief that we were above the rules and were entitled to special treatment. His argument was simply that because a select group of human beings made the rules without consulting the rest of us, we had a right to challenge those rules or disobey them altogether. Again and again, my sisters and I witnessed him refusing to wear a tie and jacket into restaurants that required it and paying heavy traffic fines for “forgetting” to renew his license and registration. He never went anywhere without his radar detector. If there was traffic on the highway, he would simply drive on the shoulder. Once when he locked his keys in a rental car, instead of calling the rental company or the police to help him get into the car, he simply grabbed a hammer and broke the window. Patience was not a virtue of his.

My father just didn’t think the rules applied to him. About his own death, he used to say, “I’m not leaving.” About that he was wrong – he died in 1980 in a fatal car crash.

This sense of entitlement, this assumption that we have a pass and can get away with things that others can’t doesn’t work. Even with an extended grace period or a long lucky streak, rule breaking catches up with you. Believe me, I know. This lesson has come up and slapped me and my sisters in the face many times.

While I’m not advocating blinding following the herd and being a sheeple, what I am saying is there are no shortcuts. Yes, we need to become conscious of our actions and our thoughts, but we must respect the fact that we live in a 3-D world that is governed by both natural laws and man-made rules. Perhaps in an evolved state of consciousness, we can transcend both. However, we have to be careful not to ASSUME we are in that evolved state when in fact we’re not, because there will be consequences. We may think we’re getting away with something, but skirting responsibility for our actions has an insipid way of catching up with us, either immediately and directly or karmically, with a bit of a delay. Either way, if we don’t hold ourselves accountable, we will eventually get caught with our pants down.

Life has a way of calling us to task when we try and run from facing certain aspects of ourselves. It can be humiliating and painful to have to face our own delusions, but on the other side is a cleaner type of freedom, which doesn’t require being on the run to maintain it.

So it’s about a healthy balance. On one end of the spectrum you have blind obedience and on the other end you have a kind of reckless “anything goes” abandon. Somewhere in the middle is an awake person who questions the way things are while at the same time navigating through life with respect for oneself and others. On that rare occasion, we can find ourselves with a get out of jail free pass. But these kinds of passes are not something to count on or live by, just appreciate them when they do come.

The rest of the time, we’re on our own.

We all have aspects of ourselves and the world that we cannot see. We are simply too close to it. Instead, we construct stories about “the way it is” and reel with shock when those stories get shattered or undone.

These blind spots must serve a purpose. I suspect they keep us moving forward, making decisions and taking risks that would be impossible without some suspension of disbelief. We need to trust in the people and the world around us to some degree or we would become frozen and paralyzed with fear.

We operate from the safety zone of our carefully constructed stories. We need these stories to make sense out of the seeming chaos of the world. Not that the world is by it’s nature chaotic, but rather as humans our vision is too small most of the time to see the big picture, which is all about order and flow.

In our myopic dance through life, we grab onto whatever view serves us on that part of the journey. Our lives are always about what we put our attention on, to the exclusion of everything else. This allows us to immerse ourselves completely in an experience, a relationship, a situation. Inevitably, this intense focus blocks us from seeing other viewpoints or perspectives, such that we actually become blind to them, and are often shocked when either someone points them out to us or something changes and we can see what before was truly invisible to us.

Once the blinders come off and what was invisible is now visible, we may question our inability to see what is truly obvious to us now. It is akin to waking up or shifting from a distorted lens to a clear one.

Sometimes this shift in perception can be quite a shock to the system. Depending on the depth and scope of the blindness, it may take days, weeks, months or even years to adjust to a different viewpoint.

If you really believed in something and found out you’d been lied to, your entire sense of trust has been badly shaken. Trust is not easily cultivated, especially after it’s been trampled.

It is here that we can stand back for a moment and ask ourselves, were we truly unaware of all the factors when we walked into a situation or relationship, or did we see things, but choose instead to ignore them, hoping they might disappear or change. Did we in fact decide to see only what we wanted to see?

What is the lesson here? Is it what I said earlier about blind spots allowing us to suspend our disbelief?

Think about it. Would we ever do anything if we could see the whole picture before we engaged with it?

How much truth can we handle? Most of us cling onto our ignorance is bliss equation for dear life. Perhaps for good reason. We want to think we have some control over our lives and our stories.

If our illusions are stripped away too quickly the delicate balance between chaos and order would be disrupted, leaving us feeling unmoored and adrift. Our illusions are like filters that regulate and titrate the inflow of the truth in doses that are manageable. Without those filters, the feeling of chaos would be overwhelming and if too severe, might result in what is called a psychotic break, rendering us unable to engage with in the world at large.

The other extreme, of course, is resisting change completely. In that case, we seal ourselves tightly into a very small world that we are able to control. We reduce our range of experiences to that which does not threaten the status quo. This keeps us in a perpetual state of vigilance, for we are afraid of losing what we have and must dedicate our energy to protecting it at all costs.

The best pathway is to strike a balance in between…to stay fluid and flexible and open to change so that when it comes, we can welcome it, rather than be jolted or blown apart by it.

We need to trust in life. Too much disillusionment and disappointment can make us bitter and cynical. In spite of so many of my own illusions falling away in recent years, I still trust in the goodness of life and in the magic of possibilities. Sometimes I use my stories and visions to propel me forward–they are a nothing more than a vehicle–and when it’s time to exit, I let them go.

In the meantime, I try and enjoy the ride.

Lately, in conversations with friends, they’ve been challenging me, confronting me, exposing me and inviting me to come out from behind my walls. I frustrate them, irritate them, hurt them, avoid them, and just plain drive them crazy with my awkward attempts at setting boundaries. I told someone the other day that I see myself living behind a moat and I’m pretty sure that moat is filled with some amphibians with very sharp teeth. At least that’s what my friends are telling me.

How do I explain I’m not doing this to cause anyone else pain, but instead, I’m doing it to prevent myself from feeling pain? Kind of rough on the people close to me to have them think I’m assuming that letting them get close to me means I’ll have pain in my life.

But it’s not quite that simple.

I’m not afraid they will cause pain, but rather that my recent wounds will be re-opened, not intentionally, but perhaps without knowing it someone may bump into a sore spot, thereby, opening a floodgate of feelings—feelings, mind you, they didn’t cause, but just happened to stir up.

In the past four years, my emotional range opened up fully—which is what, like it or not, intense grief and major life changes do—and I hit notes I hadn’t played since my father died, along with many others I never even knew existed. This opened my heart and made me aware of many levels of human experience. I touched and was touched by other people’s pain at a much deeper level. I could see and know experiences that before I had only imagined.

The raw beauty of it was that prior to my marriage falling apart, my range had been very narrow and small, very contained. Then like a suddenly active volcano, my life and my heart blew open, spilling the contents of my inner most feelings all over the place. It was a mess.

I learned to live in this overheated muddy place, for many, many months, my identity in pieces. The pain allowed me to connect with people, allowed them into my most vulnerable and sacred places. I had no choice. I needed people or I wouldn’t have survived.

I still need people, perhaps now, more than ever. What’s different is that I finally got a break from the pain, and I’ve been enjoying the more neutral feeling of equilibrium. However, I have also become so attached to the absence of pain that I’m now doing whatever I can to avoid it, including not letting people get too close. My range has shrunk down into that narrow place again because it is what I can manage and control. The very thought of being out of control again terrifies me.

All this sounds pretty foolish. The cost is quite obvious when spelled out that way. Without the full range of feelings (no pain=no joy), we miss most of the essence of life, instead spending most of our energy maintaining our comfort zone and protecting our small little world.

I know all of this, and yet…and yet, I hesitate at the doorway of intimacy and human connection and peer in watching people engaged in the dance and wonder if I will ever feel safe moving in that world again. That’s what the sharp knife of grief does…it puts you in a state of post-traumatic confusion and doubt that you will ever be “normal” again.

Life, if nothing else, is about change and growth, and in all likelihood, this state of no pain or numbness, is temporary, a kind of suspended animation or existential limbo, allowing me to travel a great distance from one state of being to another. I trust that one day I will wake up and feel confident again about taking risks in my relationships again. I trust that my friends will be patient with me a little longer, and not see my withholding as a personal rejection, but rather regard me as someone who is on retreat from the world for a time, in order to regroup, refresh and restore my being into a place of wholeness.

In the meantime, I will continue to linger at the doorway, reminding myself that intimacy—like riding a bike—is something you never forget how to do.

How do you like to learn your life lessons? The easy way or the hard way? Didn’t know you had a choice? That’s the beauty of the gift of free will we’re given—we always have a choice.

Welcoming, inviting, allowing, and embracing life lessons is certainly the easier way to go. Running away, ignoring, resisting and fighting the lessons that occur are going to ensure that we’re in for a rough ride.

We hold most of the cards (more on that later) that determine whether our path is one of joy or suffering. Now I’m not knocking suffering. It’s an incredible teacher, but we don’t have to get a degree in it.

The key is to volunteer or sign up for the lessons, rather than make them pursue us. A life lesson that has been avoided is no fun. By the time it has become painful, quite a bit of time has passed, and the intensity of the lesson has built up way beyond our comfort level, such that in order to get our attention, its approach is rather more akin to a two by four or bulldozer rather than a nicely paced challenge.

Far better to meet this thing halfway and invite it in for tea rather than wait until it breaks our door down. Whether we like it or not, these lessons are coming one way or another.

What the Soul needs, the Soul gets. Period. And if necessary, it will use the override button to circumvent whatever dalliance or detour or distraction that has led us astray from our path.

Typically, this avoidance occurs when we listen to the mind instead of to our intuition. The fact that the mind is often referred to affectionately as the drunk money is no accident—if left to its own devices, it behaves in a way that is clearly not sober or sane. In fact, following the path the mind takes is like following a raving lunatic without a map. After exhausting yourself going around in circles and endless dead ends, the only place you’ll end up is either back where you started or even worse, lost.

Better to stop moving and check in with a more reliable source: your intuition. We’ve all been given this incredible internal guidance system, but sadly, most of us don’t trust it enough to cultivate it or learn how to use it. This creates all kinds of problems because listening to our intuition is the only reliable way to hear what our Soul wants. It is an internal system of checks and balances that allows us to sort through the massive quantities of information presented to us at any given time and to discern what to put our attention on. Without that, we are walking around with no sense of direction or purpose, just wandering aimlessly in a state of constant reaction to what we encounter.

In order to significantly reduce suffering in our lives, we have to learn to establish clear boundaries around ourselves to eliminate lots of meaningless stimulation and distractions and then determine from that what our Soul needs for growth and expansion. This is a more proactive way of living, in which we move toward our lessons rather than away from them. It saves a lot of time and trouble and heartache.

I see the mind as a rebellious teenager that constantly tries to find clever ways to get into the driver’s seat of our lives. The only way to deal with it’s juvenile antics is to be firm, direct, and most importantly, consistent when you are reminding it that it’s place is in the backseat or even the passenger seat, but never in the driver’s seat. No, that seat is reserved for the Soul or as some people refer to it, the Higher Self, the part of us that has a map and can see the bigger picture and knows the best route to take us where we need to go.

So take a moment and scan your life right now. Do you have a vague awareness that there are some things that need your attention? Do yourself a favor and address them right now before what is a gentle easy lesson becomes a brutal difficult one.

If you’re in the middle of a painful lesson right now, don’t beat yourself up. We all have blind spots and issues we sweep under the rug. We all have lessons that have required varying degrees of pain before we were willing to learn them. Do what you can to finish the lesson, recover and restore balance into your life again, and then comfort yourself with the idea that this type of thing can be avoided in the future.

Because while life may very well be a game, one thing it’s not is a game of chance. As I said earlier, we hold most of the cards. The rest is influenced by other factors, including, but not limited to, other people’s free will, laws of physicality, past actions and intentions, subconscious scripts, not to mention the Almighty Dealer. However, with that said, we do have a say in how it goes. The first step is acknowledging that fact in the present moment, and then working from there to minimize future suffering and to evolve to a place where some of those other factors can be addressed, thereby increasing our odds not of winning, but rather enjoying the game.

We live in a house of mirrors, the people and circumstances in our lives reflecting and refracting back pieces of ourselves. It is our reactions to these reflections that teach us the most about ourselves: what attracts us, repulses us, makes us angry or sad, open or shut down becomes our unique signature in the language of our experience.

These reflections also show us what we look like in different contexts. Sometimes we like how we show up and what we see, and sometimes we don’t. We resemble so many bits and pieces of broken glass turning in a kaleidoscope of daily interactions—always new, always changing, always becoming.

We are so much more than the sum total of all of the reflections in our lives. The concepts, ideas, projections, assumptions that are thrown at us from the outside world only make up a small, and frankly, quite a messy composite of our identity. It is really nothing more than a mask or persona that we associate ourselves with and wear in the same way we wear items of clothing.

However, when our buttons get pushed, it can feel like much more than that. And nothing pushes our buttons more than someone who reminds us of the parts of ourselves we’d rather forget. The last thing we want to do is spend time with someone who stirs up the ugly uncomfortable shit we thought we’d dealt with already or who shoves the hideous underbelly of our personality right in our face. Ouch! Our reaction is typically to find the quickest route out of there, anything to get away from having to see THAT and be around THAT right now. Sometimes that’s not possible and we need to simply find a way to be with the person who makes us SO uncomfortable.

Being around a person who mirrors some of our deepest, dirtiest, nastiest crap can be excruciating AND it can be the best teaching tool around. Instead of running, try turning right around and seeing what there is to see. If you don’t like what you see, perhaps it’s because it feels a little too close to home or a little too familiar. Therein lies the gift. This person is dishing it out so eloquently so that you can see what it feels like to be on the receiving end of such attitudes and behaviors, so that you can know it so well and so fully, that by the time you catch your breath, you vow to NEVER, EVER act like that toward anyone again.

That person that pissed you off just became your greatest teacher and offered you up a precious opportunity to evolve and grow that cannot be bought or found in a book, classroom, or personal growth DVD. No, this came through the school of life, right there in the comfort (or in this case discomfort) of your daily life.

Pretty amazing. Everything we need to grow is right there in front of us. Endless invitations to master the human condition given to us as one of the perks of being alive. Imagine that.

But wait, that’s too easy. Beyond these mirrored reflections, who are we really? The answer is really quite simple: we are what is seeing the reflections, we are what is hearing the voice in our heads, we are what is feeling the emotions, we are what is moving the body in its dance with the world.

But who, we ask, is that? Who, indeed, is life’s greatest mystery and life’s greatest gift. It is the motor that drives the whole machine, the constant hum of life force buzzing in the background of our lives. That my friend is who we are; we are part of this whole lovely crazy thing expressing itself like mad across the universe of existence. Everything we see is merely a reflection of that doing its thing in us, through us, around us.