And learn about writing!

Discovery Draft from jennifer louden on Vimeo.

We sleep like girls-
in bunk beds
with sheets and blankets
messy on our shoulders and hips

As goddesses
we have spoken poetry
to the noise of our lives
and watched it dissipate
like morning mist

There’s something there
deep in the middle
of the labyrinth
As we dance in and dance out
the body knows its own joyful nurturance

We see the gift in the center
our own luscious hearts
softly singing “I found you…I found you”

What will we take into the world?
Images of creativity and love,
our own good enough selves.

I bow to Joanna and each wide-hearted woman who loved herself enough to ask “What do I want?” for 3 full days.

And listen to the answer.

To allow yourself to want what you want.

To greet yourself right where you are.

My heart remains with you.

P.S. A family emergency means a mother and her daughter cannot attend Taos. Two spots are now open. If Joanna’s poem sings to you, if your creative heart aches to be nurtured and held so that it can really create, then please join us. All the details here.

It siphons away your energy.

It hobbles you.

It can keep you from learning what you most want to learn. Sometimes, for years and years.

What if the biggest obstacle between you and getting better at writing, coaching, teaching, loving, parenting, painting, singing, __fill in the blank______, was self-cruelty?

Self-judgment. The voices in your head Seth categorized so succinctly here.

Many of us were suckled on the belief that getting better at something must include berating and belittling ourselves. Otherwise we aren’t being honest with ourselves.

Actually, learning happens best when we can calm our heart brains, by concentrating and taking in good feelings.

If you keep working at something you really care about but you never seem to improve, get curious about how you treating yourself as a learner.

What you are saying to yourself?  What feelings you are focusing on?  How are you holding your body?

If you find yourself speaking to yourself like you would like to speak to Glenn Beck, then put your hand on your heart and recall a time when you felt loved.  Good enough. Relaxed.

Put your whole attention on that feeling.

Turn up the volume on it.

Notice how good it feels.

Ask yourself: If a beloved friend is trying to learn this, how would I help her?

Now I’m off to practice my talk for tomorrow using exactly this approach.

Here’s to self-kindness as the sweetest – and fastest way — to success.

I’d love to hear how you self-kindness and finding the good to help you learn.

P.S. Two ways to steep yourself in self-kindness in July: retreat with me at Kripalu or in Taos. Only four spots left for Taos.

Another reason Twitter rules!

I had loved Susan’s work for years but I was too shy to approach her.

But along comes Twitter and we start tweeting and then Susan had a question for me and suddenly, we were comparing birthdays (one day apart) and numbers on the Enneagram (we’re both 4′s) and book business blues.

Finding a new friend.

Then along comes her new book The Wisdom of a Broken Heart(buy it, trust me,) and her drive-around-the-country book tour (she may be coming to your town) and presto! She’s in my house, doing laundry and eating Bob’s risotto.

Isn’t life grand?

We set down for a quick video chat before Susan headed to Canada. She’s an extraordinary speaker and we give you a peek at our new project so watch and hopefully, our conversation will give you inspiration for choosing your life this week.

Info on Susan’s tour. Go see her, she’s the best!

The Squirrel of Ridiculously High Standards

Part 3 (Part Two is here)

So last week I was all about

Lovingly noticing when I am freaking out about what I need to do

and then choosing more skillful ways to co-exist with The Squirrel of Ridiculously High Standards, like having a conversation with him, letting him scurry on by while I step out of the way, and some other cool moves.

I’m happy to report it went really well.

I was more peaceful, less driven, less squirrel-like.

Working with stuff here, with you, and over at the Comfort Cafe is helping me see how often I stop myself at the edge of what I think is possible.

I’m learning how to let self-love support me as I step into the unknown.

And it turns out, it’s not about focus.

Turns about my stuckness is actually ambivalence.

Ambivalence has been bedeviling me all these years, taking on various ruses and forms, trying to convince me the grass is greener elsewhere – almost entirely in regards to my work.

Of course, there’s something underneath the ambivalence.

It’s a defense mechanism, an ancient cover for my fear of being imperfect.

Which is different than being a perfectionist although damn if I can tell you exactly how.

This is a big dog-gone dawning for me

This feels so huge and it’s very disorienting – I never saw myself as an ambivalent person, let alone someone was afraid of being imperfect.

I mean, I’m a goof.

I’m loud, I cackle, I snort, I talk to strangers.

When I teach a retreat, the most common feedback I get is how genuine I am and how willing to share my own struggles.

I have terrible handwriting, you know how many typos I make from reading this blog or my newsletter, I wrap presents horribly, I make mistakes on my bank deposits every other time, and I almost always have a stain of some kind on my clothing.

I am so not a perfectionist. I did say it wasn’t the same thing. Just don’t know how.

Big readjustment happening over here.

Who am I?

Good question.

Plus I let my daughter DRIVE for the first time today.

I wish I was a talented enough writer to convey everything that swept through me seeing her behind the wheel of my car.

What’s going on in your world?

What story of yours are you watching with love and detachment?

As always, I’d love to hear!