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About Being Alone

Feb 25, 2022 | Women's Wisdom

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about being alone: the difference between actually being alone and feeling that way. .

My daughters live in two different states. I work as a solopreneur/soulpreneur, exclusively from home. I am single. There are moments in which the independence and isolation get the best of me, when I truly acknowledge how much time I spend with just me. And in such places, and sometimes, I feel sad.

It hardly takes being alone to feel alone.

I felt alone for long seasons in my marriage, in so many aspects of single-parenting, when working in corporate jobs, even pre-Covid in social contexts, gatherings, and groups.

When I do feel this way, there are two things I have learned to do:

Tell myself the truth.
Remember that I am never truly alone.

I am good about pushing hard(er) feelings down, marching forward, staying focused on to-do’s, keeping a positive attitude, persevering. In so many ways, I’m grateful that this is the case. And…there’s a dark side. It is very easy for me to not give myself the permission or space to actually feel. It’s WAY easier to just keep busy, to keep all the plates spinning, to distract myself with pretty much everything else so that I don’t have to feel much of anything. Because, let’s be honest: to feel is hard!

It took me a long time (years and years and years) to learn that my whole world would not fall if I let myself feel. But sometimes I still forget. Until I don’t. Until I feel the lump in my throat that will not subside and the tears that threaten to spill. Until I let go. Until I sit with all the uncomfortableness — all that feels unsettled and unknown and confusing. Until I can finally release and rest in all that just is — without needing to fix it or patch it up or make it better. It’s hard. And it’s generous. It’s grace, really.

There’s a second reason I sometimes feel alone — and why most of us do as women: we’ve been disconnected from the women upon whose shoulders we stand. Maybe disconnected is the wrong word. Maybe more accurate is that we’ve never been connected to them in the first place. That breaks my heart (and infuriates me).

I am reminded of a passage in Clarissa Pinkola Estes’ book, Women Who Run With the Wolves:

I once dreamt I was telling stories and felt someone patting my foot in encouragement. I looked down and saw that I was standing on the shoulders of an old woman who was steadying my ankles and smiling up at me.

I said to her, ‘No, no, come stand on my shoulders for you are old and I am young.’

‘No, no,’ she insisted, ‘this is the way it is supposed to be.’

I saw that she stood on the shoulders of a woman far older than she, who stood on the shoulders of a woman even older, who stood on the shoulders of a woman in robes, who stood on the shoulders of another soul, who stood on the shoulders . . .

The absence of this awareness, this truth, this endless and accompanying presence, is but one of the insipid and invisible impacts of patriarchy: keeping us isolated and alone, keeping us disconnected from ourselves, keeping us from acknowledging and allowing our own actual emotions, keeping us from connection with and appreciation of, even reliance on each other.

Sisterhood is important because we are all we have to stand on. We have to stand near and by each other, pray for one another, and share the joys and the difficulties that women face in the world today. If we don’t talk about it among ourselves, then we are made silent by the patriarchy, and that serves us no purpose. ~ Ntozake Shange

Because I’m not willing to be made silent (or made to feel isolated or overly emotional or too much or not enough), I intentionally and gratefully reconnect myself to the stories and the women who remind me of what is MOST true: that I am not alone.

But far beyond just me, I believe, deep in my bones, that these stories and women are for you: when you feel isolated or overly emotional or too much or not enough; when you long for wisdom and guidance and direction and focus; when you need permission to let yourself feel; when you desperately need to be reminded that you are part of a bigger, larger, and longer story that is powerful and amazing and proud; and yes, especially when/if you feel alone. Because you aren’t. Ever. Not really.

These are my endless and fervent hopes on your behalf:

Tell yourself the truth about how you feel (especially when “alone” is the word you’d use to describe such); believe that you are worthy of the deepest and most honest emotions — always.
Remember and believe that you are not alone. Because you aren’t. Ever. Not really.

Easier said than done, I know; but no less valuable, significant, or true.

*****

It is my privilege to remind you of just how powerful (and allowed) your every emotion is AND that you’re not alone. These truths and more are what I write about in my free Monday Letters. Subscribe. And these ARE the conversations that matter, that I hold and offer in my one-on-work with women. Learn more.

Retrieving the Fragments

Feb 4, 2019 | Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

Although women’s words have been censored or eliminated from much of [our] heritage, in the midst of the pain of dehumanization women have nevertheless always been there, in fidelity and struggle, in loving and caring, in outlawed movements, in prophecy and vision. Tracking and retrieving fragments of this lost wisdom and history, all in some way touchstones of what may yet be possible, enable them to be set free as resources for transforming thought and action. ~ Elizabeth A. Johnson, She Who Is

This is probably NOT the stuff that keeps you up at night. But what if it did? What if this was the conversation we were all-and-always having – women together, women with men, even men together? What if we were consumed with the painful history of women? What if we were determined to “track and retrieve fragments of lost wisdom and history?” What if we believed that this was crucial to “transforming thought and action?” What if, indeed.

How do we take the time to talk of old stories? How do we find the threads of our own history as women? How do we somehow weave them back into our day-to-day lives?

I wish I knew.

Here’s what I do know:

If we don’t, if we forget from whence and whom we came, we are destined to repeat the same patterns.

The plight of women does not improve. The conversation does not change. The world does not transform.

To shine a spotlight on the censorship and dehumanization of women is the very thing that helps us – now, in this moment, in our day-to-day lives – understand why we think the way we do, why we often feel slightly crazy, why we struggle with ways to articulate our position or stance, why we are disconnected from our bodies, why we witness people in power deny the harm they inflict and attempt to silence the brave women (and men) who name such anyway.

It’s hard: the work of remembering.

We want to move on, to move forward, to make headway, to not look back.

I get it. I’m not all that crazy about having to remember my own story. It’s hard to look back and honestly acknowledge the places in which I’ve known harm and perpetuated it against my very self (and others). But it is only when I do so, that I experience any transformation and growth; it is only when I do so, that I can have the perspective and wisdom needed to make different choices today – not only for myself, though that is paramount, but also for my daughters, my family, my friends, my colleagues, my community.

If this is true for me, for each of us individuals, how much more so the collective – all of us together?

Mmmmm. Yes, this. All of us and always – remembering, telling, naming, honoring, acknowledging, truth-telling, “tracking and retrieving fragments” so that we can discover the “touchstones of what may yet be possible.”

May it be so.

Before Mother’s Day

May 7, 2018 | Hope & Encouragement, Mothers and Daughters, My sort-of Sermons

With Mother’s Day less than a week away, it feels appropriate to name and honor our larger, longer mother-line: the women and lineage from which we descend. To do so, the words of a woman who does this better than most – Clarissa Pinkola Estes:

It is not intuition which is broken, but rather the matrilineal blessing on intuition, the handing down of intuitive reliance between a woman and all females of her lines who have gone before her – it is that long river of women that has been
dammed. ~ Women Who Run With the Wolves

For me, the river’s very source and starting point, is Eve. To be sure, there are historical narratives of women that predate hers and it must be acknowledged as “the beginning” in the Western world (whether we want such, or not).

And given how much time I’ve spent over the years working with her story in particular, Estes’ words take me right back to her yet again.

The ways in which her story has been told throughout time has, sadly, caused us to lose the blessing that is ours, to break the beautiful and bountiful line of woman to woman, and to cause distrust in our own birthright and brilliance.

Rather than name, yet again, how this has happened, let’s talk about how to change it; how to bind up your (personal and historical) wounds; how to step forward in the power and strength that is already yours. Here’s the 3-step plan:

1) Heal the line to heal yourself.
2) Find the women – past and present – who long to bless you.
3) Undamn the river and let your too-often-damned intuition flow.

1) Heal the line to heal yourself:
One of the most powerful ways forward is to go back, to do the work of unearthing tales told (or not) in harmful, silencing, shaming ways and invite them into the light; to track down our lineage, to know and love the stories (and the women) who have shaped us, to find a sense of “home” and solidarity in all those who have gone before. When we can heal their past, we are the ones who are healed; we are the ones transformed.

2) Find the women – past and present – who long to bless you.
When we re-imagine, re-tell, and redeem these women’s stories, we are able to be blessed by them. Eve, yes, and so many more. Sojourner Truth. Emily Dickinson. Virginia Woolf. George O’Keefe. Frida Kahlo. Audre Lorde. All these and then some who long to share their wisdom, their perspective, their voice, their comfort, their companionship. And what of your great-great-great grandmothers and the rich female line that runs right through you? Can you imagine their words on your behalf? Will you? Even in places of deep, unwarranted pain (sometimes at these very women’s hands), will you imagine the words they would have spoken if they could; if they had been blessed? And who are the women in your everyday world who would readily and willingly offer you the same if only you would ask? If only you would tell them that you need them. If only you would trust that they are trustworthy and at your beck-and-call for support, kindness, encouragement, and yes, the blessing you most deeply long to have.

3) Undamn the river and let your too-often-damned intuition flow.
When you stand in the river of all the women who have gone before you, in the ever- tugging current of those who swirl around you even now; when you let the rapids carry you; when you float in a place of buoyancy and ease – supported by the stories that make up your legacy and the faces that smile on you every day – it is far more likely that you will trust that you already know what to do, what to say, how you feel, what you want.

Really, who are you not to trust your intuition, your story, your very self when standing in such an illustrious and stunning stream of women; when soaked to the skin with the stories of women – past and present – who just wait to be seen, known, heard, and honored and who long to honor you?

It is my hope and prayer that as Mother’s Day approaches you will feel and believe in the matrilineal blessing that IS yours…and that is yours to give to others.

May it be so.

*****

One of the ways in which these women and their stories continue to speak is through SacredReadings – my imagining of their voice on your behalf. There is a woman – part of your matrilineal line – who longs to bless you even now. A perfect Mother’s Day gift for yourself…and other women you love.

In line at Starbucks…

Oct 24, 2016 | Mothers and Daughters, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

Although women’s words have been censored or eliminated from much of our heritage, in the midst of the pain of dehumanization women have nevertheless always been there, in fidelity and struggle, in loving and caring, in outlawed movements, in prophecy and vision. Tracking and retrieving fragments of this lost wisdom and history, all in some way touchstones of what may yet be possible, enable them to be set free as resources for transforming thought and action.
~ Elizabeth A. Johnson, She Who Is

This is probably NOT the stuff that keeps you up at night. It does me, though. Not every night, of course, but still, I do ponder the subject, do pull books off my shelf to bolster my thesis (and remind myself to stay the course), to recognize how tightly woven it is into my writing and thought.

I am quick to realize that this is not the stuff of most dinner parties, not what I see in the news, and definitely not what I hear being bantered back-and-forth while in line at Starbucks.

What if it were? What if this WAS the conversation we had – women together, women with men, even men together?

What if we were consumed with the painful history of womens’ dehumanization? What if we were determined to “track and retrieve fragments of lost wisdom and history?” What if we believed that this was crucial to “transforming thought and action” – which all of us know must happen? What if, indeed.

But we are not talking about it, not devoting our every waking moment to its promulgation, and definitely not losing sleep over it.

Understandably.

Our lives are busy. They are full. They overflow with struggle and frustration, celebration and joy. They are often overwhelmed with schedules and to-do’s and responsibilities. They are rich with friends and lovers and children. And they are subsumed by so much else, so many other messages that either elate or exhaust our souls.

So how and why would we take the time to talk of old stories, to find the threads of our own history as women, to somehow weave them back into our day-to-day lives?

I wish I knew.

Here’s what I do know, though:

If we do not, if we ostensibly forget from whence and from whom we came, we are destined to repeat the same patterns. The plight of women does not improve. The conversation does not change. The world does not transform. And I, for one, think all of these things need to happen.

To shine a spotlight on the censorship and dehumanization of women is the very thing that helps us – now, in this moment, in our day-to-day lives – understand why we think the way we do, why we feel the way we do, why we make the decisions we do (even when they are not the ones we want to make), why we often feel slightly crazy, why we struggle with ways to articulate our position or stance, why we are disconnected from our bodies, why we witness people in (hoped-for) power deny the harm they inflict and attempt to silence the brave women who name such anyway.

It’s hard: the work of remembering. We want to move on, move forward, make headway, not have to look back.

I get it.

I’m not all that crazy about having to remember my own story, in having to look back and honestly acknowledge the places in which I’ve known harm and perpetuated it against my very self (and others, to be sure). And yet, it is only when I do so, that I experience any kind of transformation and growth; it is only when I do so, that I am able to hold enough perspective and wisdom to make different choices today – not only for myself, though that is paramount, but also for my daughters, my family, my friends, my colleagues, my community.

If this is true for me, *just* one woman, how much more – all of us together?

Imagine this multiplied times the infinity of women’s stories – past, present, and future!

That image, that possibility, that future? That’s the one I want and the one we deserve.

I still wish I’d written these two sentences, but love that Elizabeth Johnson did. Hear them one more time; more, believe them.

Although women’s words have been censored or eliminated from much of [our] heritage, in the midst of the pain of dehumanization women have nevertheless always been there, in fidelity and struggle, in loving and caring, in outlawed movements, in prophecy and vision. Tracking and retrieving fragments of this lost wisdom and history, all in some way touchstones of what may yet be possible, enable them to be set free as resources for transforming thought and action.

May it be so.

Bloodline

Sep 9, 2016 | Sacred Stories, Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power

What if you claimed your legacy, your inheritance, your very bloodline?

As a daughter of Eve – the best Eve, the glorious Eve, my Eve. Made in the image of the gods, full of desire, and called good. Pursue your desire no matter what. Eat luscious fruit. Talk to snakes. Leave the garden you were always meant to depart. Listen to and follow what you hear, what you know to be true. Your heart cannot possibly lead you astray.

As a daughter of Hagar – who summons the made-manifest presence of the Divine into the hardest and most desert-like of times. You are seen, heard, and honored by that God, no matter what. You are blessed beyond compare.

As a daughter of the Woman of the Well – witty, wise, and worth hearing. Not shamed, but seen. Not harmed, but held in love, respect, and strength. You have a voice and a story that changes everything.

As a daughter of the Woman of Revelation 12 – birthing redemption into this world and worthy of the Divine’s most intimate care. Beautiful. Radiant. Gorgeous. Protected. Fierce. You are destined to reign.

As a daughter of countless ancient, sacred women who surround, support, and sing you into your truest, bravest, most glorious self. You are not alone.

Let me ask again: What if you claimed your legacy, your inheritance, your very bloodline?

What if, indeed.

May it be so.

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