Category: Stories

A dear friend who graduated just ahead of me in law school officially becomes a judge today. A judicial investiture is a tremendous honor and a clear marker of success in the legal profession. It will be a beautiful celebration of all that it took for her to get here.

To experience this moment, however vicariously, has caused me to reflect on what success means to me, personally. I hadn’t consciously defined it before, but I now recognize the desire for it as the undercurrent of tension beneath all my efforts. That not good enough feeling that seemed never to go away no matter what the achievement. It has taken half a lifetime to recognize what our culture has taught me to want and to redefine it for myself.

 

I decided to take a stab at writing the list to which I have tried to measure up all this time. It turned out to be a great exercise, so I will share it with you. Until I did it, I hadn’t understood why I felt so inadequate despite all the boxes I have dutifully checked in my life. This list is not unlike Whack-a-Mole where no matter how hard you try, there is no way to really win.

 

So. Here’s my list. As a woman in this culture, I have felt responsible to manage and maintain the following:*

1. a fit body and ever-youthful face
2. a lucrative career with significant responsibility and a high salary
3. a perfect marriage to a man who focuses solely on his career due to his wife shouldering all home and family responsibility**
4. polite, happy, accomplished children
5. flawless parenting choices based on expert opinions
6. wholesome, homemade meals everyone in the family loves
7. all the kids transportation, homework supervision, and the expertise to handle any issue
8. a tasteful, tidy home
9. constant communication with all the children’s handlers: doctors, teachers, coaches, therapists, friends and their parents
10. to exude and express contentment, like these expectations are completely fine with me

 

Gross, right? I didn’t grow up in a Stepfordy home, so there’s only one explanation as to where this conditioning came from: EVERYWHERE. The culture all around us convinced me that I had to live up to this craziness. And when I didn’t, I got the sense I was supposed to either make excuses for the failures or fake perfection.

I often share the real stuff both in my writing and in my life, but I always feel out of line doing it. Ever notice how most of us aren’t at all honest about what is really going on? Even with supposedly close friends? Because we are off the list and we feel bad about it.

I am here to tell you, it’s okay to go rogue. You are human. There is not one other person on this planet like you, and that is a GOOD thing. All the cultural messages say we are supposed to be exactly the same. It’s not true. You are meant to be just as you are. And here’s the best part: being yourself is the only way to achieve real happiness. 

After all this time, I realize I am responsible to create the life I want based on my true nature, not what society says I am supposed to want. So I made my own list. It is in no way a perfectionist fantasyland that could never have brought me contentment anyway. I am so much closer to accepting myself than I ever have been.

This is my answer to the above top ten:

1. Moving my body in nature is one of my true joys in life. Throw in a great conversation and I have the trifecta of awesomeness. I know the parts I feel bad about is just someone trying to sell me stuff. 
2. I have found work that feeds my soul and could not be more excited about it. My best earning years lie ahead.
3. My marriage is ever-evolving. We are both committed to growth and connection and that is everything.
4. My kids are on their own chosen paths and I am here to support them in being who they are. When I am the space for them to feel their own feelings, it all works better.
5. As parents, we do the best we can with what we know at the time. The more I accept myself, the more open and loving I am to everyone, including my kids.
6. Mark and I split meal prep and shopping and also do takeout. It feels much better than serving the family like the old days. I like what we are modeling for our kids.
7. I love carpool! It makes me feel like I have a circle of co-parents which is a comfort. I am terrible at homework supervision. We have an amazing tutor named Judy who is a modern day saint/Mary Poppins. If anyone needs a miracle worker, she is IT. (Call me.)
8. My home is lovely. And often quite messy. Spring cleaning would be a really good idea.
9. I communicate with all the kids “people” and Mark has really made efforts to show up in this space too. It sends a message to the kids that we are both interested and available.
10. I do try to practice gratitude for all I have while reserving the right to complain LOUDLY when I want things to be different, and that is just who I am.

Someone way smarter than I once said, “give up defining yourself—to yourself or to others. You won’t die. You will come to life.” We are fluid, ever-changing growing beings. We don’t need to fit in a box or check a box. No boxes.

When you realize only YOU get to say who you are, you get the sense that it’s all going to be okay.

Love,

Elizabeth

WRITING PROMPT: How do you define success? Or do you even bother? How are you at self-acceptance?

Do my weekly stories come to your inbox? If not, you are invited to sign up. Click on elizabethheise.com and subscribe today. And if you like, come find me on the socials: @elizabethheise.writer on Instagram and @heiseelizabeth1 on Twitter. Happy reading!

*I speak to the cultural expectations for straight, white women because that is my personal experience. In our culture, BIPOC and non-binary folks have great difficulty even being recognized, let alone feeling safe individuating too far off the mainstream. Those in my position have a responsibility to join with them and hold the door open for all of us.

**Apologies to my LGBTQIA+ readers for this heteronormative perspective. I suspect same sex relationships have a similar set of expectations where power skews to the higher earning partner. My guess is that if both are equal earners, you have the opportunity to be real partners because there is division of labor along gender lines. Please fill me in!

 

Peaceful living with family members of different ages, lifestyles and sleep habits is a challenge on a good day. When you take your show on the road, you are presented with myriad opportunities to ruin your time together. Just as often, however, you have the chance to repair it. Often, such moments happen before you even leave the house.

RUIN: On FaceTime with your college daughter, you dig her clothes out of the closet, scolding her choices. You listen to your spouse having a similar exchange with your son. You hear your son say, “Shut up, you are so judgy.”

REPAIR: Follow your son’s advice. Know your kids are forming their own identity and don’t need to worry about what you or anyone else thinks of what they wear.

RUIN: With your 3:30 a.m. wake up in mind, you foolishly allow your most feral teen to meet his friends at a party. He promises to be home by 9:00 pm. Once out the door, he turns off location services on his phone preventing you from hunting him down before his arrival, an hour and 20 minutes late. He blames Uber.

REPAIR: Do not kill the vacation vibe before it even starts by yelling at him. Be happy he’s home safe. Understand he is desperate to control anything in his life even if it’s just having the choice to buy junkie airplane snacks. Daydream about when he listened to you, said please and thank you, and even ate a banana before sampling a single piece of Halloween candy.

 

 

RUIN: Your spouse scolds your teens for being glued to their phones, failing to promptly respond to the boarding call on your full flight. They roll their eyes for the first of what may be countless times on this trip, then go back to insta-scrolling and TikTok respectively.

 

REPAIR: Savor the memory of your weekly library runs when your kids read anywhere and everywhere. Know that those years are stored up in their teenage bodies and will someday form a stack of wonderful books on their nightstands.

RUIN: On the first morning of vacation, your spouse attempts to cattle prod everyone out the door and onto the slopes. You protest on your tired teenagers’ behalf, attempting to slow the operation, adding to the stress of mobilizing five people.

REPAIR: Recognize your possibly wrong assumption that your spouse is being dismissive of the family’s needs. Check in with him. Acknowledge that he also feels dismissed. Realize your tendency to deny your own needs in effort to spare your kids the slightest discomfort. This creates resentment. Resolve to do things differently. Suggest that whomever is up and ready can leave and everyone else can meet up later. Recognize that there is nothing wrong with meeting your own needs as a parent. Modeling self-care for your kids will prevent them from continuing this co-dependent craziness with their own families.

RUIN: On the first run of the first day of your ski vacation, your two sons race down the mountain, smash into each other and land in a pile of limbs, poles and skis. At the well-equipped mini ER at the base of the mountain, a kind doctor delivers the bad news: a buckle fracture just above the wrist. No more skiing.

 

REPAIR: Resist the urge to join your son’s grief. Agree that it sucks and sit with him while he feels awful. Do not fill the silence with BS platitudes like suggesting he look on the bright side. Find the gratitude that he is able to experience such disappointment and practice resilience with you for support. When he asks to cash in his lift tickets and ski rentals and figure out something cool to do with the money, smile. Look for ways to spend time together and do not pressure him to do anything. Except for visit the elk because they are awesome.

 

RUIN: You observe your daughter’s tired, faraway expression and wish she could just relax and stop ruminating on all she has going on at college. You worry about her and feel responsible.

REPAIR: Stop making stuff up in your head and ask her. She tells you she is exhausted from final exams and needs some time to relax. Suggest an early exit from the lift lines, and head to apres ski with a live band. Grab some beverages and listen to what life has been like for her. Laugh, bond and enjoy each other’s company.

RUIN: By mid-trip on an active vacation, everyone is grumpy, sore and tired. The morning starts off with mild bickering and escalates to venting in the gondola. You learn, once again, that holding in the feelings you had about your kids mistreating each other in the preceding days is never a good idea.

REPAIR: Apologize. Hit the terrain park and do ski jumps together. Crash land and feel grateful you broke nothing. Laugh and feel better. Be reminded once again that nature and movement can reset the vibe instantaneously. Even the crankiest.

RUIN: On your last day on the slopes, wobbly legs motivate you to find the good snow on actual blue runs.* You tell everyone the plan. Your youngest son heads in the opposite direction, leading you down a hideously steep slope of slushy bumps during which you envision plummeting to your death. Your spouse offers helpful tips on your form while you are simply trying not to die. You curse him out and order him to move on and leave you to your fate. When you reach the bottom, you loudly reiterate your displeasure. Your son laughs and says with a smirk, “get better.” The others frown and wish you would just be happy you are alive.

 

REPAIR: You apologize and apologize some more. You may not stop apologizing until you see the bright green front door of your home a few thousand miles away.

All in all, you end the trip on a happy note. When you do your best to repair what breaks in your family, you get the sense that it’s all going to be okay.

Love,

Elizabeth

WRITING PROMPT:  How do you reset the vibe when things go wrong? How does it work out? Do you feel responsible for everyone’s good time?

Do my weekly stories come to your inbox? If not, you are invited to sign up & send to a friend! Click on elizabethheise.com and subscribe today. You can also find me on the socials: @elizabethheise.writer on the gram and @heiseelizabeth1 on Twitter. Happy reading!

*Next year you will suggest Park City or Steamboat where the blue runs are ACTUALLY blue, not double blacks disguised as blue runs. Some know-it-all local informs you that the runs are rated relative to the mountain. The sweeping views high up in the Grand Tetons, however, are glorious.

 

My teenagers are cycling through that mandatory life stage when chaos pays frequent visits. And similar to when butterflies struggle their way out of the chrysalis, no one—not even their mom—can do it for them. If the newly winged creatures don’t do the work on their own, they won’t survive.

But transitions can be rough. And the more we resist, the worse it feels.

 

I am going through a transition too, albeit a happy one. A new Instagram friend reached out and asked how I’d arrived at my message. “Tell your story. Be set free.” I thought,  hmm it’s evolved into so much more than that. After writing all these stories about personal growth and training with Martha Beck, I have a tidy set of ‘heal your life’ tools that I intend to offer. Soon. I mean, I toss a few out here and there, but the whole enchilada is still baking.

It’s during this half-baked phase that we can make it harder on ourselves. And in case you think this doesn’t apply to you, I have news. Every seven years, all atoms in our bodies are different. Often, changes don’t feel so subtle. The world was supposed to be coming out of a pandemic and partying like its 1999 right now. Instead, we are receiving reports of impending doom. Some turning points can be downright terrifying.

The question is, how to ease into the next iteration of yourself in the most peaceful way possible. I have some tips.

 

1. Get grounded in nature.

When we are going through a change, all parts of us have to be on board; body, heart, mind and soul. When you place yourself beneath the vast blue sky, listen to the rustling leaves, and feel the soft breeze on your skin, a certain peace comes over you. No matter what level of swirly transformation is happening inside, nature provides the space to align and grow. I try to do this daily.

 

2. Feel your feelings.

Nobody likes change but a wet baby. I mentioned the three teens. One of them is dealing with something that, on occasion, has caused me to cancel all the new cool stuff I have going on so I can support him. It happened again on Monday. Instead of processing my feelings about my derailed day, I self-soothed with food—a habit I had substantially kicked. I buried the sadness and frustration under black and white cookies from Trader Joe’s. After the sugar crash, I recognized that I am doing the best I can. Then I had a great coaching session with Hope Cook. The tears flowed and I feel better. Thanks Hope.

3. Acknowledge the shift.

Sometimes we are changing and growing but don’t want to acknowledge it because then we’ll have to do something about it. And that can be scary. This morning I went for a long run with my husband and we talked over a case of his. He’s still in business litigation—a profession I left years ago. But each time we discuss a legal matter, the lawyer me is right there. I am also a mom, a writer, and a life coach in training. It’s given me a nuanced perspective. That has value. A few minutes ago, I changed my instagram bio to include all that and stopped worrying that people would think I am a flake. I am every version of myself that I have ever been and it’s actually cool.

3. No sudden moves.

If you have a lot happening inside already, there’s no need to change your external circumstances unless it’s some kind of emergency. Decisions made from stress limit perspective anyway. Spinning worst case scenarios doesn’t help. When you are feeling relaxed and creative, your decisions include the entire landscape. It’s natural to feel mildly freaked out at such a time. Allow yourself to evolve and unfold. Go easy.

4. Care for your body.

When we get in our heads about all that’s going on, we sometimes ignore physical symptoms. The body gives us SO MANY clues. For me, I’ve noticed more fatigue than usual during workouts. I finally reached out to a functional medicine doctor. I also switched up our family’s morning routine which had become stressful. I’m doing my best to listen.

If the change you are experiencing is an especially difficult one like an illness, you have even more reason to max out on the creature comforts. Call in favors and hibernate like a bear if you need to. During my mystery illness a few years back, I wished I had asked the illness what it came to teach me. May sound bananas but if you ask these kind of questions, you get answers. In retrospect, the reason it happened is clear. I gave away a ton of my time to “should’s” and almost no time to “want to’s.” It made me sick.

And if your nears and dears have commenced to hand-wringing in your presence, take a break from them. Phone off. Set healing boundaries.

5. Take notes.

Give your subconscious mind a place to unload and clear space for new growth. I love the “morning pages” style of journaling from author Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way: three free-flowing, long-hand, written pages of literally whatever comes out of your pen. No judgment, no planning, no cross-outs, first thing in the morning. You’ll feel better!

7. Get a cheerleader.

In this messy stage, you don’t need any naysayers. It is time for support and laughter.  My Aunt Louise watched funny movies day and night during her cancer treatments at the hospital. She literally laughed off the cancer.

That’s all I got. Remember, life goes a lot smoother when you surrender to the flow.

 

And now for the exciting part of this story. On the theme of transitions and keeping it light, I have a special guest coming to my Instagram Live show, Tell Me All About It, this Friday, 3/18/22 at Noon EST. It’s been a minute, so I’ll remind you that this series began when I got curious about people who follow their inner longings to serve others in a way that taps into their unique gifts.

Lucie Frost is an employment lawyer turned humor & satire writer and an excellent authority on managing big life changes. Lucie’s Instagram series “How The Hell Did I Not Know That” offers grammar lessons, thoughtful theories on why things are the way they are, sage advice and more. She’s an absolute DELIGHT. You can sign up for her newsletter at https://luciefrost.com and follow her on all the socials @luciehfrost.

Here’s what’s happening:

WHO: Lucie H. Frost, Humor & Satire Writer @luciehfrost

WHAT: IG LIVE series Tell Me All About It

WHERE: Instagram LIVE on @elizabethheise.writer

WHEN: TODAY! FRIDAY, March 18, 2022, NOON EST

Don’t miss it!

When you give yourself the space and time to grow, you get the sense that it’s all going to be okay.

Love,

Elizabeth

WRITING PROMPT: What changes are happening in and around your life? What is making it easier or harder?

Do my weekly stories come to your inbox? If not, you are invited to sign up!! Click on elizabethheise.com and subscribe today. And if ya want, come find me on the socials: @elizabethheise.writer on the gram and @heiseelizabeth1 on Twitter. Happy reading!

 

 

 

One afternoon when I was a kid, I arrived home from school incensed. My mother set down her paperback as I paced the floor, ticking down the list friends who had wronged me. When I finally looked up, her weary expression said, what is wrong with you, Elizabeth.

At the time, I didn’t realize what had eluded me in that moment, but I know now. I’d longed for a judgment-free zone, the space to say what I had to say. Someone to really listen and care. To process my hard feelings out loud and for it to be okay.

In the years since, my listening style has reflected all the usual problems. I’ve nodded and waited for the other person to stop talking so I could tell my own story. I’ve offered opinions, doled out unsolicited advice, and annoying pity. I’ve supplied all the stuff people didn’t need and none of what they did. I didn’t know how to listen. Not really.

Until I practiced it myself, I’d heard the term holding space from new agey folks who couldn’t listen if you taped their mouth shut. That introduction had me thinking it wasn’t a real thing. Now I know better. All it means is that when a person comes to you with something to share, that you are present, open, and allow them to fully express their feelings without butting in. To be there for them instead of filling the conversation with your own baggage. Doing it isn’t as easy as it sounds.

On Monday, I finally understood what it means to “hold untroubled space.” After practice sessions using Martha Beck’s coaching techniques with a few moms, I began to notice some patterns. Many of us show up in particular ways with family and friends which profoundly affects our communication style. I reflected on the takeaways which are the following:

1. Check your energy and intention.

This is the key factor to real listening. As a mother, I have felt responsible to fix my kids’ problems and clear away their hard feelings. If my daughter came to me with an issue, I would bring up all the missteps I perceived that got her to that point. I thought I was being thorough and helpful—teaching her cause and effect. She hated that. I get it now. Had I let go of the thought that I held the responsibility to fix her problem, then set the intention just to be with her, whole different result.

2. Show up feeling whole and cared for already.

The trick to the untroubled bit is to take care of yourself FIRST. Meeting your own needs looks different for everyone. Your inner voice knows. Mine says I need nature, solitude, and time to write without interruption. Maybe yours says you need to have more fun. Or that you have some work to do with a good therapist. Who knows. That’s between you and you.*

 

 

If you take responsibility for yourself first, you won’t need to spend time dumping your own unprocessed garbage on someone else. You will be available and present. I know this because I finally did it with my daughter so there’s hope for everyone.

3. Know that you aren’t responsible to fix anyone else.

All we need is a compassionate witness to listen, maybe ask some open-ended questions if they feel stumped, so that they can do the work themselves. The liberating truth is that no one has a clue about what someone else should do with their lives. That’s why AA is so successful. Nobody in that circle is allowed to respond—they are just there to listen. That is how people heal. They feel SEEN. Then the answers come.

It can be hard to trust that we already know the answers because we’ve spent a lifetime conditioned by our culture to consult experts, take a poll, seek the solution anywhere else but inside ourselves. We assume that if only I had  _____, all would be well. What we really need is to return to our innate wisdom.

When someone comes to you to share something, they just want you to be there with them. That’s what I wanted as a kid. I wanted to feel cared for and listened to, that’s it. I was smart enough to know how to solve my problems. If people want advice they’ll ask. Instead of assuming you know better, maybe help them out with some powerful questions that tap into their own truth instead of yours.** And PS. This is an ironic bit of advice from a serial unsolicited advice giver such as myself. We humans are hilarious, aren’t we?

And that’s what I learned to do on Monday. To finally listen. To be the untroubled space. And it felt amazing.

When you realize you already knew what you needed all along, you get the sense that it’s all going to be okay.

Love,

Elizabeth

WRITING PROMPT: Do you know how to hold untroubled space for someone else? Does listening come easily to you?

*A quick hack to finding out what you need is to pay attention to your physical body. If you have a part that hurts, ask it what it needs. If that sounds ridiculous, don’t knock it til you try it. My husband’s red left eye told him he needs to stop blowing off his afternoon meditation and get to bed on time. What do you have to lose? Maybe just the pain in your neck

 

**You may be wondering, powerful questions? Like what? You just told me not to ask the experts! This is just questions so no pressure. 🙂

 

What is your victim story?

Lately my ears have been tuned in to these. Folks are happy to offer them up quicker than any other tidbit about themselves. And if they aren’t talking about them, they are definitely thinking them.

What are you, a mindreader? Not hardly. I just know that when someone’s got a scowl on their face, it’s a sure sign they are playing a familiar melancholy tune in their heads that provides them a simple explanation of why life sucks.* (Also—takes one to know one.)

Granted, no one likes to consider themselves a victim. But the fact is, most of us have a narrative about why we just can’t progress in the direction we’d like. That one thing that gets in the way, no matter what.  Our victim story exists to keep us stagnant, small and safe. Emphasis on the safe. Breaking out of it throws us into unknown territory and that can be scary. More on that later.

When we are particularly bothered by someone else’s victim story, therein lies a hidden nugget of truth about ourselves. Something we hear in the other person mirrors our own go-to tale and. We. Cannot. Stand. It.

 

A few of my acquaintances have victim stories that match up with my own. A sure sign I am hearing one of them is that I suddenly get the urge to stuff my fingers in my ears and belt out the Star Spangled Banner. One story in particular bothers me so much that the last time I heard it, I ordered a couple more drinks just to dumb the pain. I hadn’t bumped into the woman who tells this dreary tale in ages, but at a recent outing, there was no avoiding her. She turned to me, and, as if on cue, unleashed a torrent of complaints about how little time she had for anything. I wish I was you, she said, and then named some luxurious thing she perceives as how I spend my day. It drove me absolutely bananas. And if you are wondering whether she’ll identify herself here—don’t bother. She claims she doesn’t have time to read.

 

There is no doubt that her victim story sticks in my craw because it is also my victim story: I never get my own time for my own life. Sometimes it’s my husband spontaneously working from home on loud conference calls on the other side of the wall from my quiet writing space—it’s happening this minute actually—or the child, who is no fan of school, remaining face down on his bed, requiring an hours long effort to coax him into the car. When something like this throws off my day, I tell myself how no one cares one whit about wasting my time. Then I go around with a black cloud over my head, not doing my work and resenting everyone around me with their fancy, undisrupted schedules.

So why do we repeat this story about our lives and let it derail us?

Because we are afraid of our own power, of what we would be capable of if we weren’t strapping on cement boots. We are afraid to unleash our true potential. We got the idea that playing small serves us best due to it’s safety and predictability. If we continue to tell ourselves we can’t because of ______, we can be sure that the worst that will happen is we will be comfortably disappointed in ourselves. Nbd.  

But the only way to really live is to take risks. To break out of our comfort zone, not to wait for the perfect conditions. To go for it with no regrets.

Here are some ways to break free:

1. We begin by identifying what our victim story even is. (Like me, you may have several.) When we recognize it and accept that that is what is happening, we can take a deep breath and know awareness is the critical first step.

2. It’s super comfy to let the story explain why we are here, playing small. The downside is that when we choose fear, we say no to our true desires. Love. Fulfillment. Acceptance. Joy. All of those are within us, waiting to come out IF we honor our true selves, claim our space and choose love over fear. In this life, you only get one of those. Why not choose love.

3. We can avoid the grip of the victim story if we give ourselves what we need in the moment. For me, when my son is stuck in the I hate school routine, it works out best when I clean up my own energy. When I don’t pile on the judgment, he has the space to work out what he needs to do in his own head. I also dealt with the practical matter of searching for alternatives to his current program. I now have a great one in my back pocket. We will check it out if and when he is ready.

4. Seek the wisdom of your spiritual guides. Eckhart Tolle teaches that life will give you whatever experience is the most helpful to the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because it is the experience you are having at the moment. It is all meant to be exactly as it is right now. Learn what you need to learn from this and then you will move on to the next lesson.

5. Recognize the gift. Your life is not about what you have to do, it’s about what you get to do. In recent weeks, I’ve done more caretaking than usual. At times, I have devolved into self-pity. When my husband prepared to go skiing while I sat in an emergency room, I wondered how I’d drawn the short straw. When I shook free of victim mode, I recognized that I had been blessed with the time and resources to spend a beautiful few days with my father and daughter and to reconnect with my brothers. There are people out in the world who have no one at all and others who have loved ones they cannot be with. I am lucky.

6. Lastly, all you are responsible for is right now. Don’t waste time regretting yesterday or worrying about tomorrow. You have absolutely no control over that. Do the next right thing and stop freaking out.

And just so you know, I was REALLY getting stuck in my victim story so this little offering to you has been gently used by me first. When you realize it is YOU that holds you back more than anyone or anything, you can make better choices. Knowing you are in control of your attitude and your energy gives you the sense that it’s all going to be okay.

Love, Elizabeth

WRITING PROMPT: What is your victim story? How can you break out of it? What hasn’t been possible in your life when you have believed it? How is it going to be different now?

Do my weekly stories come to your inbox? If not, you are invited to sign up!! Click on elizabethheise.com and subscribe today. And if ya want, come find me on the socials: @elizabethheise.writer on the gram and @heiseelizabeth1 on Twitter. Happy reading!

*You might be saying to yourself, hey, I have this limitation that really is awful and insurmountable.I used to buy that too. And then I saw Nick Santonastasso speak. He was born with Hanhart syndrome, an extremely rare condition that left him legless and missing an arm. His motto: “the biggest disability is a bad mindset.”  Check him out. He may just change your life. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rc8offk7Mho

 

For as far back as I can remember, I’ve had a reoccurring dream. In a dark, drafty house, I’m searching for somewhere safe just to be. As I roam from room to room, panic rises inside me. I pass strangers who appear comfortable there and don’t acknowledge me. The homes are never the same in these dreams, but they are uniformly inhospitable and filled with people who don’t see me.

A few weeks ago, the reoccurring dream progressed to a new dream. It truly felt like it had changed. The old one must still be rattling around in my psyche, however. Over the weekend, the old dream invaded my waking life.

After learning of my father’s mysterious illness, my brother and I traveled to see him at the hospital. We had agreed to stay at the home of my stepmother and Dad which I haven’t done in decades. I have visited them both alone and with my family, but have always rented a hotel. This time it made the most sense to stay there in light of Dad’s condition. Plus, it was two days. I could do anything for that short a time.

When I walked into the bedroom where I’d be sleeping, the past came flooding back. There were no sheets on the mattress and none left in the room for me to make the bed. A suitcase full of someone else’s belongings lay open on the floor, a crumpled tissue beside it. In a corner stood a baby changing table with random detritus stacked on top. In the bathroom, the toilet had not merited even a cursory swipe in advance of our visit.

These people are dealing with a medical emergency—only the hopelessly tone deaf would expect fresh flowers on the night stand. The general neglect of the room, however, echoed the state of every space I’d occupied as a kid with these two in charge. I asked for the sheets, pushed past the disturbance it caused, and turned away from the feelings stirring inside me.

Throughout the weekend, I remained cheerful and positive for my dad, found solace in reconnecting with my brother and stepbrother and grounded myself in nature. When my daughter arrived on the train—her plan was to stay only one night—it became difficult to manage the triggers. My precious child. Here.

Comments thrown out like invisible grenades detonated everywhere. If your daughter gets upset about the bedding, she is a spoiled brat. Watch out, Liz is so judgmental. I really wanted your Nana’s Burmese sapphire, such a shame it was stolen when she died. I’m not paying for breakfast. It’s a hassle for me to take your brother to the airport.  

As a child in their care, I was left to meet many of my own basic needs, as were my three siblings. I got a job at thirteen to buy clothes. The younger ones left and ended up couch surfing. And far worse. Our family faced hard times.

There was only one incongruity: the youngest among us lived like a doted-on only child. Every heart’s desire from Toys ‘R Us filled his shelves, always with more on the way. Granted, he was due some compensation for going without a father. Only the four of us received none for having no mother. The message that came through harmed us all.

My stepbrother now has two sweet children for whom his mother bakes homemade pies. She rents a vacation home across the street from them for long stretches, allowing her to assume a major role in their lives. My daughter Jane got to hear all about it at dinner, a quizzical expression on her face. My dad and stepmother came to visit her once when she was born. They never returned.

For two days, I held it together. Dad was doing much better and it seemed the worst was over.

When the weekend came to a close, Jane and I drove South to drop my brother at the airport, then North into holiday traffic out of town. Olivia Rodrigo’s angsty lyrics poured out from the speakers and summoned the flood of emotions I had suppressed. I ranted and railed. When I had exhausted myself, I couldn’t apologize to Jane enough. It’s the worst when someone doesn’t check in before they drop their awfulness into your unsuspecting lap. Worse still when it’s your mom who allegedly flew in to take care of you. It took both of us by surprise.

When I got home to Miami a day later, I opened this week’s materials for Martha Beck’s class. Dream Analysis. A dream is full of symbols that are actually parts of the dreamer that haven’t been fully integrated. It was high time I unified all parts of me instead of running away from the ones that hurt.

In class, we were invited to share a dream to be analyzed. The only dream I remembered was the reoccurring one and the new dream that had replaced it.

“Elizabeth, do you want to share your dream?”

I usually jump at the chance to do this work, but I felt spent.

“If no one else wants to go,” I said.

I described the reoccurring dream with the dark house, then the new dream: my colleagues in this program had gathered at a sparsely furnished retreat center, situated in a lush, wooded area. Large plants in blue ceramic pots were the only decoration in the space which was equipped with everything we needed. The wide rooms were filled with natural light. Martha Beck lead the training only it was very physical, few words were spoken. As we practiced some kind of wrestling, everyone got sweaty and dirty. We were all happy.

At the end of the retreat, Martha asked us to gather all the plants and leave them in one spot so the staff could pick them up to deliver them wherever they were needed next. As we left the center, I spotted a car full of gangsters, silently leaving their place, promptly at checkout time. My colleagues and I all piled into a white van that took each of us to our destinations.

To analyze the dream, first, you identify the symbols:

Old House

Retreat Center

Potted Plants

White Van

Gangsters

Martha Beck

Then the dreamer gives three adjectives for each symbol:

Old House: cold, scary, lonely

Retreat Center: spacious, light, neutral

Potted Plants: Wandering Jew, growing, oxygen-producing

White Van: purposeful, competent, focused

Gangsters: fearsome, brooding, leaving

Martha Beck: excited, accepting, open

Now here’s the woo part, so stay with me so you don’t miss the magic:

The dreamer then speaks as if she is the symbol and communicates the symbol’s purpose, how it wants to help, and the message to the dreamer.

Old house: my purpose was simply to shelter the people. I was not capable of providing warmth, comfort or anything else. My message is that it was not your fault that I am this way, it is simply my nature. There are other homes better suited to your needs.

Retreat Center: I am a space to learn and grow. You are free to be yourself here.

Potted Plants: I am here to allow you to breathe, to make things beautiful, to help you feel at home and to bring ease.

White Van: Don’t overthink your direction. Let it be easy, allow yourself to be guided.

Gangsters: We hold all the trouble, we aren’t as scary as we seem, we are going away now and you will be at peace.

Martha Beck: in those dark moments, a benevolent force greater than anything loved you and has always loved you. You are meant to be exactly where you are, doing exactly what you are doing. You have everything you need.

At the end of the session, my tear-streaked face broke into a smile. I am the Wandering Jew who will go where I am needed. I have faith in my direction and trust that everything’s going to be okay. I am home.

And so are you.

Love,

Elizabeth

WRITING PROMPT: Do you have a reoccurring dream? Do you keep a dream journal? Are you open to learning the message in your dreams?

Do my weekly stories come to your inbox? If not, you are invited to sign up. If you have a friend who might be interested, feel free to share. Click on elizabethheise.com and subscribe. And if you like, come find me on the socials: @elizabethheise.writer on the gram and @heiseelizabeth1 on Twitter. Thank you for reading.

 

 

Walking the dogs last Friday, Dad collapsed on the street. The ER doc called it a heart attack. Several scary days and a hospital transfer later, his diagnosis was less dire, but the incident put all five of his kids on high alert.

Dad and I haven’t been particularly close—he doesn’t really do that. But as he gets older and his health declines, I feel an urgency to get beyond what we have been to each other. We humans are programmed to love our parents, no matter what. I am definitely feeling that primal need to show up for him before I no longer have the chance.

My younger brother and I decided to fly out to see him. Except that I had already planned a visit to my daughter at college over the holiday weekend. With all the Covid restrictions and weirdness on campus, she has been homesick. My mom instinct told me to go. On Facetime, I explained that I would have to cut my trip short. Her roommate Lisa, my other UCLA daughter, stepped into the screen.

“I’ve always thought that if someone was a jerk to you, you aren’t obligated to rush to their side just because something bad happens.” True enough. But I have come to feel differently about my dad over these last years.

Was he selfish and uncaring when I needed him? I definitely thought so as a kid. But I have learned to take care of myself and, I have a better understanding of how selfishness works. Martha Beck recently explained it on Episode #67 of Glennon Doyle’s podcast We Can Do Hard Things.

 

What does it mean to be selfish? When someone has been starved of self, they can be really toxic. That person’s sense of self has been stifled to the point where they cannot even think about anyone else. They have been robbed of being their true selves and have nothing to offer other people until they restore what has been lost. Some never do. But if the person begins to prioritize themselves, takes the time to understand who they really are and what it takes to make them happy, they recover. If they do it consistently, they naturally begin to see other people for the first time.

I wouldn’t say my dad has undergone this transformation, but I have. Writing my truth has done that for me. My own growth has made space for his limitations, which he comes by honestly. From the sound of it, Dad grew up being ‘starved of self.’ Abuse, threats of military school, and running away from home were just a few features of his life as an only child. He didn’t leave home with any sense of what it meant to be loved, nor how to be a present father. All he wanted from his parents was to be left alone and that’s what he gave us. It was the best he could do.

But, in his way, my dad showed up for me. When Mom announced she was leaving, he stepped up and took care of us. He could have left too. Instead, he kept a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. Sometimes he even did the usual things like pick me up from pom pon practice. As a teen, he told me that if I ever drank too much at a party, that he would come get me, no questions asked. I called him one late, chilly Chicago night and he did just that. When I became a mother, he flew to Miami and held my baby girl in his arms. Each one of those things would have been enough—we Jews call this concept Dayenu. At pivotal moments, I could count on him.

He doesn’t call on my birthday, but the day after my last one, I called him. In good humor, I asked what he might have forgotten about October 1st. He was supposed to go in for cataract surgery, he said, but it had to be rescheduled. Then, it hit him. “Oh sh!t,” he said. “You deserve to have someone remember your birthday.” He knows. If he had more to give, he would. And I was proud of myself for calling.

Last weekend, I admitted to a friend that her negative reaction to a vulnerable truth I shared had hurt my feelings. She didn’t take it well. It’s hard to hear you have hurt someone. Instead of apologizing, she dug in and said she’d choose the same words over again. I knew at that moment that I had done my work, the rest was hers. My old self would have owned her narrative and felt guilty for saying anything. I no longer make myself small for other people’s comfort. And now I understand her limitations.

I am getting better about showing up for myself. For not “going deaf to my own pain.” When you step into your own truth, it makes space inside to accept others for exactly who they are, not who you wish they would be. This creates a sense of freedom for everyone.

Be free, my friends.

Love,

Elizabeth

WRITING PROMPT:  How do you show up for yourself?  How does this affect the energy you bring to caring for others?

Do my Friday Stories come to your inbox? If not, you are invited to sign up. And if you have a friend who might be interested in them too, please share. Click on elizabethheise.com and subscribe today. And if you like, come find me on the socials: @elizabethheise.writer on the gram and @heiseelizabeth1 on Twitter. Happy reading!

 

A few days ago, old friends converged on Miami for a special wedding. During a week of festivities culminating in an epic dance party, I noted that I didn’t allow my own history to cloud any of it. To be totally present for my dear friend who came back here to celebrate new love, chosen family, and enduring friendships felt like a gift.

This group of friends hadn’t been together in years. Relocation overseas and across the country had scattered us all. But I hadn’t been around much since before geography intervened. A conflict within the group and the effort to repair it had fallen flat. Individual friendships had survived, as true friendships always do.

So much has changed for me personally and I was curious to find out how I would feel to be with everyone again—one friend, in particular. After the big blow up, sides were taken. Except I didn’t choose a side. Not knowing the full extent of the rift, I tried to make peace. It didn’t work. From that point forward, the one friend excluded me and my family from events she hosted. As the centrifugal force of the group, her actions had a huge impact. When I asked, she insisted that she held nothing against me and I was always welcome. It was pretty clear that I was not.

I didn’t appreciate the irony back then, but I had expected the other friends to take my side. Because the official position was that we were fine, there was no option but to be super confrontational with her and that just wasn’t anyone’s personality. Except mine. When they all continued to revel on without me, my mind became a dark garden of painful thoughts. I didn’t matter, took over like chickweed. It hurt for a long time.

 

Given that I now understand my thinking better,* I was curious to check in with myself around that one friend. Would I be triggered and go back to that self-pitying place? For a second, I fantasized a heartfelt apology. I almost laughed at myself.

Before everyone came back to town, my friend Karin sent me Episode #1 of The Michael Singer Podcast: Ceasing to Be Caught in the Waters of Mind. He authored The Untethered Soul: The Journey Beyond Yourself which teaches how to focus less on the world around you and more on changing your inner space to achieve peace. Sounds like a bunch of hippie weirdo talk, but this New York Times Bestseller has changed a lot of lives for the better, so if you haven’t gotten into it yet, open your ears and listen up. We could all use some peace.

In the podcast, Singer explains that the mind and all its thoughts are not who you are. YOU are your awareness that floats on the surface of the mind. As long as you remain the observer of your thoughts, you can always be at peace. If you aren’t sure what that means yet, exploring some mind calming methods like yoga, meditation or breath work is a good place to begin.

If this is your first exposure to this stuff, here’s the background: our brains are programmed to scan the world for problems, it’s how our species has survived. As we are no longer in survival mode, it serves our higher consciousness to cultivate a calm mind. It is the only way to reach our full human potential. You have to work at this though, it doesn’t happen automatically.

If we don’t realize we have the ability to calm the mind from inside ourselves, we are constantly working to control our environment to keep the mind from being disturbed. We believe that if we can just collect a few key items (the money, the house, the car, the partner, the perfect kids) our mind will settle down. Your mind is always busy trying to figure out what you need so that you are okay. Only it never stops trying to figure out what else you need outside yourself, which is so not the answer, ever.

Most of us don’t do any work on our minds, we try to fix the world around us. We get stuck in a constant effort to manipulate our circumstances so that the mind will become calm. We have no concept that there is any way to relax the mind other than controlling the world. Since this is impossible, our mind is always trying to make our world okay. It’s crazy-making.

So how do we fix our minds? First, we get comfortable watching the mind react to the nature of things as they are. Say for example, that it’s raining. The mind says, “sh!t, I just had my car washed.” There is nothing you can do about the weather, so there is no reason to hold onto the thought. You observe the thought come in, you have the negative feeling and then you allow it to float away. If you don’t resist, it will pass. If you surrender, it will leave you and your mind will return to a peaceful state. Or you could rant about it all day, your choice.

I experienced this very thing at the wedding. After the ceremony, performed by a particularly plucky pastor, the wedding photographers gathered groups for pictures. “Let’s get a shot of all the friends,” she said. I stood at a distance and observed a thought coming in. They don’t want me in the photo. A stab of hurt accompanied the thought and I let it pass through me. I knew my mind was just looking for problems, as it always does.

“Okay friends, love on Abby,” the photographer said. I walked over to the group, grabbed the shoulder of the woman next to me and smiled, sending love to my dear friend on her extraordinary day.

Later that night, the band was so good I left chocolate truffles uneaten at the table and joined everyone on the dance floor where we stayed for hours, just like the old days. At one point, I spotted the friend with whom I had shared the difficult history. We danced out whatever was left of our past.

If you try to resist pain, it stays stuck inside. You cause more disturbance by resistance. That which we resist persists. Deciding what is and isn’t supposed to be and whether or not you have a right to be angry just prolongs suffering.

Make peace, find your center when things go wrong. Your secondary reaction to a disturbing thing is what makes the problem worse. Don’t fight the nature of things. Relax and release. Rest quietly. Lean behind the reaction. Don’t try. Notice it, let it go.

There is no special skill here. You don’t need a technique to NOT do something. All you have to do is stop being so interested in everything your mind has to say. When you learn how to let go of little things, it leads to letting go of bigger and bigger things.

Our natural state is joy, love, and peace. And it has nothing to do with anyone else.

When you observe your mind, let go of painful thoughts and release the emotions, you can rest in the knowledge that you will always be okay, no matter what.

Love,

Elizabeth

WRITING PROMPT: what in your past have you held onto for a long time? What will it take to let it go?  

*In a piece a few weeks back, I demonstrate how to examine painful thoughts and provide tools on how to detach from them: https://elizabethheise.com/the-daily-divorce-habit/

Do my weekly stories come to your inbox? If not, you are invited to sign up. And if you have a friend who might be interested, please share! Click on elizabethheise.com and subscribe today. And if you like, come find me on the socials: @elizabethheise.writer on the gram and @heiseelizabeth1 on Twitter. Happy reading!

 

 

I learned to lie early. A chaotic home life can be tucked behind a toothy grin and good grades, no problem. If you look like a kid who has it all together, approval abounds. The constant anxiety that goes along with all that pretending is just part of the deal.

All these years later, my instincts are still to create a perfect image. I fight the urge to answer, “I’m fine” no matter who asks. It takes real effort to push past a lifetime of conditioning and just tell the truth. 

I wonder if others also feel like they’ve peddled enough BS for a lifetime? A reader of these stories reached out last week after I revealed what I really think about the periodic disconnection in my marriage.* She wondered why we all don’t just tell the truth.

I have a hunch: no one wants to be judged. Every time I hit send on these stories, I wonder whose thought bubble is saying, “Jeez, Elizabeth, TMI.”

I will tell you something about speaking the truth though. It has become my new favorite bauble to hold up to the light. Because it’s a relatively new practice, however, it’s uncomfortable. I wish people who received it would be gentle. Sometimes they are not and it hurts.

 

 

 

But, like a big gorgeous salad, I know it’s good for my health. Telling the truth has benefited every aspect of my life. I no longer come down with “mystery illnesses” that take me out for months at a time. I have withdrawn from spaces where I feel muzzled. I have extracted myself from relationships that don’t serve me and transformed the ones that needed healing. My friends know me better. Strike that: everyone who wants to, knows me better. Revealing who I really am has helped me feel more alive than ever.

 

Martha Beck writes about this phenomenon in her latest book, The Way of Integrity, Finding the Path to Your True Self. Her theory is that telling any kind of lie does lasting damage. Whether it is meant as a kindness, to avoid confrontation or to save your own behind, any untruth wreaks internal havoc.

When a friend makes a mean joke about us and we say nothing, that breaks trust with ourselves. When we let the moment pass, we have “gone deaf to our own pain.” Our instinct to take ourselves out of harm’s way is blunted. We trust people who don’t deserve it. We remain in bad relationships.

Clearly there is a payoff to lying, that’s why we do it so much. Telling people what they want to hear wins the popularity contest every time. We are well trained to tell and receive the sweet little lies about how great we look when we do not or that a friend “forgot” to include us in a group outing when in reality they did it for reasons we need to hear. 

When the stakes are higher, lying can be about survival. Sometimes it’s just not safe to tell the truth in an abusive relationship or an oppressive institution. If the truth is too dangerous to tell, we can bridge the chasm inside us by telling the truth to ourselves—noticing where, why and to whom we lie.

 

Shielding ourselves from the truth has deep roots. As kids, we may have been called upon to keep it together when something bad happened. The only option was to abandon ourselves. The “just-world hypothesis” explains that to feel safe, children must believe that the world is fair, that good things happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people. When something bad happens, a child believes it was because she was bad.

Nearly all of us have this sort of self-blaming lie buried in unspoken childhood assumptions like my own: “if I hadn’t been so demanding, mom wouldn’t have left.” It took me a long time to unearth this fiction that helped make sense of a painful situation. Blaming ourselves when we did nothing wrong splits us off from our truth. The more suffering we’ve encountered, the more reason we’ve had to punish ourselves.

The toll it takes is obvious. Pretending all the time is exhausting. Acting happy when we are bummed out or lying to impress people requires a ton of effort. Maintaining a perfect image drains our brain power and takes up a ton of mental space. It slows down the rest of our thinking. Studies show that people who present “an idealized image of themselves” have higher blood pressure; elevated cortisol, glucose, and cholesterol; and a lowered immune system. Lying and keeping secrets have been linked to heart disease, cancer and emotional problems like anxiety, depression and “free-floating hostility.” In sum, it’s worth it to come clean.

The evidence that all this truth-telling has brought peace into my life is all around me. I have been going through a hard time with one of my children. Anyone who has called to ask about it has heard the complicated truth. I don’t feel judged (mostly). It’s still difficult to share the hard stuff but I do it anyway. I call upon the friends who’ve confided their difficulties because when you tell the truth, you create the space around you for others to do the same.

Deciding to open yourself up can dramatically improve your well-being and it can happen within days. One study concluded that just making the effort to stop lying significantly improved physical and mental health. Subjects reported feeling less sad and tense.They got sick with sore throats less often and had fewer headaches. Their relationships benefited as well: they reported happier personal lives during the weeks they intentionally told fewer lies. The relief comes when we begin by being honest with ourselves. We can go from a life of suffering to calm and peace without changing a thing on the outside.

When we have the courage to tell the truth, we get the sense that it’s all going to be okay.

Love,

Elizabeth

WRITING PROMPT: How do you feel about sharing the truth, even when it’s messy? Do you have a hard time trusting people?

Do my weekly stories come to your inbox? If not, you are invited to sign up. Click on elizabethheise.comand subscribe today. You are also welcome to find me on the socials: @elizabethheise.writer on the gram and @heiseelizabeth1 on Twitter. Happy reading!

*ICYMI https://elizabethheise.com/the-daily-divorce-habit/

 

I have done it my whole life. Make progress in a certain area and then backslide to old habits. Maybe not all the way, but enough to feel bad about myself. I’ve done it with my body, my marriage, my goals, the list is long.

After I have blown off a commitment to myself, I make up story to explain why I am still lame in whatever way. It’s what we humans do to make sense of the world, we tell stories.

Take the twenty-five year relationship with my husband. We’ve had many good years, peppered with times when we barely limped along. I have suggested daily rituals to deepen our connection and provide a solid foundation for our family. They include but are not limited to:

1. setting an intention and sharing it
2. a good hug in the morning before we run off
3. reaching out once a day with something thoughtful
4. prioritizing each other—taking our phone calls no matter what
5. before bed, naming three things from the day we are grateful for about the other
6. reading three pages aloud every night from a book of mutual interest
7. each of us giving our relationship 100%—if we want something from the other person, we must first offer it ourselves

When we practice connection regularly, it makes a difference. At busier, more stressful times, the gratitude at the end of the day is the one habit we’ve sustained. Over the last several weeks, however, we haven’t managed to accomplish even that. Mark’s been swamped at the office and has continued to work late into the night.

 

When our disconnection grows, I tell myself stories that explain the distance:

He only cares about work.

We are just different people who are not meant to be together.

This is how it’s always going to be and it sucks. 

He won’t take a break to read together but he’d show up in a flash to get naked.

Maybe I just don’t deserve a fulfilling relationship.

I am meant to be alone.

I realize this story, not the actual working late, is what causes me pain. Martha Beck teaches about the four areas of human experience: circumstances, thoughts, feelings, and behavior. Our circumstances create our thoughts; our thoughts cause our feelings; our feelings shape our behavior.

For us, our circumstances (Mark’s working late) have created these painful thoughts that have made me sad and caused me to be curt and chilly. Clearly, we all experience painful circumstances from time to time—that’s life. But telling ourselves a negative story and dragging it around inside us causes continued suffering. I don’t want to do that anymore.

This week I learned a few new tools that helped me to detach from painful thoughts. Steven Hayes, author of The Liberated Mind teaches Acceptance and Commitment Therapy. “ACT” interventions help people suffer less. He differentiates between clean pain and dirty pain. Clean pain is slamming your fingers in the car door. Dirty pain is when you tell yourself how stupid you are for doing it for the rest of the week. You attached a bad story to the painful event that causes way more suffering than the original incident.

The simplest of his techniques is to take a painful thought, in my case “Mark only cares about work,” and to place a few words in front of it, “I am having the thought that he only cares about work.” Repeating the phrase a few times may create some distance between yourself and the painful thought, allowing you to detach from it.

To create even more space, we can say, “I notice that I am having the thought that he only cares about work.” Repeating it 2-3 times may help. (Think of a painful thought and try it. Make sure it’s a thought and not a circumstance, feeling or behavior.)

My favorite of the ACT skills is Hayes’ Fiction vs. Fact tool. You take a cluster of painful thoughts, always somewhat loaded blanket statements, and juxtapose them with actual facts.

FICTION: Mark only cares about work.
FACT: He is a devoted Dad who wants to talk to and about the kids all the time.

FICTION: We are just different people who are not meant to be together.
FACT: We had an instant connection the moment we met and have grown personally and together for twenty-five years.

FICTION: This is how it’s always going to be and it sucks.
FACT: Our marriage is ever-changing, as are we.

FICTION: He won’t take a break to read a book but he would show up in a flash to get naked.
FACT: He would probably show up for either. Maybe test the theory before making assumptions.
 
FICTION: Maybe I just don’t deserve a fulfilling relationship.    
FACT: I have the relationship I am actively creating.                                        

FICTION: I am meant to be alone.
FACT: I like to be alone but it’s also pretty great to share my life with Mark. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like without him.

 

This one is my favorite exercise because it provides a drama-free look at what is going on in real life as opposed to our very active imaginations.

Okay, so we know it’s the thinking that caused the pain. But what about the emotion that resulted from the painful thoughts? If we’ve clung to the thoughts, the emotions are hanging around too. If we don’t process them, they show up in other ways: disease in the body or even as other emotions like anger. Music helps me, also @vjohanv (Johan van Vuuren’s) Instagram—I could cry all day at his posts.

So now that I’ve cleaned up the dirty pain, how do I solve the problem of growing distance? While cooking dinner this week, I clicked on a random podcast of best-selling Author don Miguel Ruiz and Oprah. He shares ancient Toltec wisdom in his brilliant book, The Four Agreements. Committing to this powerful code of conduct allows us to experience freedom, to be happier and love with more ease. They are:

1. Be Impeccable With Your Word.
2. Don’t Take Anything Personally.
3. Don’t Make Assumptions.
4. Always Do Your Best.

If I could live by this code, I would take 100% responsibility for my relationship. I wouldn’t take his working late personally, nor would I assume he values work and not me. Clearly these are aspirational because who is this perfect? These principles are simple but they are pretty hard core, so I will write them down, put them up where I can see them every day. I’ll start with the last one and simply do my best with good intentions.

When you keep your commitments to yourself, you change everything. Living a life of integrity, however imperfectly, gives you the sense that it’s all going to be okay.

Love,

Elizabeth

WRITING PROMPT: How do you manage your painful thoughts? What could you resolve by taking full responsibility? How will that change things?

Do my weekly stories come to your inbox? If not, you are invited to sign up!! Click on elizabethheise.com and subscribe today. And if ya want, come find me on the socials: @elizabethheise.writer on the gram and @heiseelizabeth1 on Twitter. Happy reading!