pushing it away

keenly aware that I don't want to feel my feelings today: slightly bored, aimless, mildly lonely, and somewhat disconnected from myself. missing him.

found a few distractions earlier. did laundry, answered all my emails, and went for a hike. and I'm running out of ways to escape these feelings.

spose I could try just sitting still and see what happens. but, well .... yuck. that doesn't sound like much fun at all.

I know, maybe I will take a nap. That should kill an hour or so ...

*sigh*

yeah, yeah, I know. the only way out is through.
some days are just gonna be this way.

no better

I have the most amazing friends! Today I got to spend several hours discussing remote viewing, near death experiences, the holographic universe, and the law of attraction ... all before noon!

You know how different people bring out different parts of you? I heard myself telling my friend something that I'll want to remember later, so I'll just jot it down here:

When I no longer think my life will be one iota better after I have achieved or acquired something, then, and only then, will my higher self allow it to happen.

'Cause I'm in this game to play big. I'm aiming for mastery of unconditional love, unconditional acceptance, and unconditional freedom. It's easy to be happy when things are going well - I also want internal access to contentment and peace when things suck.

Yes, my life will be different after I've published my book, found a home with morning sun, walked the beaches of Hawaii, or found a new co-creative partner.

Different.

But not better.

As long as I think something needs to change for me to have a better experience, I am not yet drawing upon all the power and grace available to me in each moment. And that is something I really want to learn how to do.

sprung

Along with tiny bowls of ice cream and tiny spoons, I also love tiny flowers.

Part of the fun is waiting for them. I watch for the little green sprouts to poke out of the dirt, then check on them eagerly every day. I don't want to miss a single moment of their progression into blooming.

I suspect I would not enjoy them quite as much if they were always there ... they might just fade into the background. It's the metamorphosis that delights me -- the transformation in just a few weeks' time from little green nubs to resplendent color.

I took this picture on my walk today to remind myself of something important: I WANTED my life to be this way. All of it ... the pain, the suffering, the growth, the waiting, the wanting, the achievement. The ups and downs. The losses and the gains. The ebb and the flow. The dirt and the blossoms.

I wanted the feeling of my hands in the clay. I asked for a big blob, rather than the finished product, so I could mold it myself. I also wanted to be able to smush it all up and start over. I wanted to experience transformation, not static perfection.

I am living exactly the life that I asked for. I wanted to play with free will, and I am generously presented with opportunities to exercise it in every moment. I may not always be free to choose what is going on around me, but my decision about where to focus my attention, what to think, or how to feel has never ever been restricted.

Sometimes, I forget that...

lazy sunday

I was chilling out this afternoon, re-reading The Holographic Universe by Michael Talbot, when this song popped into my head out of the blue and would not leave me alone until I found it on youtube. I had no idea how many songs I knew by the Stylistics! Brings back many happy memories of my childhood. Okay, hopefully I can get back to my reading now ...

surreal superhero suits

stopped by my friend Debra's blog tonight, and was absolutely delighted by these absurd images of knitted superhero costumes. I can't stop grinning.

http://reachdabbleshine.typepad.com/28yearslater/2009/02/yarn-super-hero.html

DONE box

just spent some time with a vivacious and enthusiastic friend who is also an Abe fan, and she shared a wonderful idea that I want to pass along to you. (and record for myself!)

Abraham-Hicks (http://www.abraham-hicks.com/) talks about the three steps to the Law of Attraction: 1) ask, 2) it is given, 3) line up with it vibrationally and receive it.

I'm thinking about it in restaurant terms lately: 1) I place my order, 2) the chef prepares it and the waiter delivers it, 3) I visit with friends while I wait, and savor it when it arrives.

My friend reminded me that many of us get stuck in step one, and just keep asking over and over again. This is like reminding the waiter what you ordered every time you see him. It's not speeding anything up, though. Just making your wait (while the chef is busy cooking) more unpleasant.

My friend also enjoys writing scenarios, like I do in my Wish Book. She heard somewhere along the line that she should re-read them daily. If doing that helps you attain the good feeling of being inside your scenario, that's a great idea. But, if it keeps you focused on the icky feeling of WANTING it, but not LIVING it, then it's not helping.

If you happen to feel stuck in the wanting feeling, here's something to try. Write your scenario one time, date it, fold it up, and put it in a shoe box in your closet that has been labelled DONE. You have now completed step one: placing your order.

Then leave that box alone, and go do whatever it takes to raise your vibration ... pet the cat, tend the garden, call a friend, go for a run, take a class, sing a song. Keep your actions and thoughts focused on whatever makes your heart sing, and forget all about your request. That's step three: lining up with your desire vibrationally. Enjoy the wait! It is coming. Prepare to give it a warm welcome when it arrives.

And actually, we are asking all the time, so there's no need to make the process this explicit unless it brings you joy to do this. Simply by bumbling your way through the day, you have registered hundreds of preferences. Stuck in traffic, you wish for flow. Hungry, you wish for nourishment. Tired, you wish for rest. Angry, you wish for peace. It's happening on autopilot.

But I find this idea intriguing, so I'm changing the name of my Wish Book to my Done Book. It's a more accurate reflection of what I'm really doing with it.

benevolent conspiracy

I'm starting to melt a bit. My emotions are moving again, albeit slowly, and with frequent but very brief welling up of tears. (Maybe that's how the moving parts keep lubricated?)

More and more, they are tears of gratitude for the unmistakable support and guidance I am receiving from my Source Energy.

This morning as I was driving around town, I was ruminating on the nature of romantic love, and whether it would be wise for me to base any decisions on it ever again. I came home to find an email from an ex waiting in my inbox.

He had been going through some old boxes, and found a card I had given to him. Out of the blue, he decided to scan it and sent it to me. It was sweet and romantic and mushy, and ended with I love you so much! And in a flash, I remembered that I DID love him so much, back then. But I don't anymore -- I feel warm affection and gratitude for our time together, but it's nothing like the way I was feeling when I wrote that note to him.

That scanned card was worth a thousand words. It reminded me of something really important: even romantic love is transient.

Don't get me wrong .... it's really nice when it's happening! I like it alot.

And it, too, shall pass.

So I'm sort of back at square one again. It ALL passes - joys and sorrows alike. All I can do is be as present with it as possible while it moves through my experience.

Sometimes, I will notice every nuance and savor it.

Sometimes, I will be lost in my thoughts, and the experiences will move on through without me even noticing. (sort of like when you drive somewhere and forget what you saw on the way.)

Either way, I am okay with it. When I realize I am not present, I can just start paying attention again right then and there. And then I will surely space out again, and remember again. It's no big deal.

Oh, and in case you are wondering what I decided about romantic love, I'm hoping NOT to base any future decisions on it. But who knows ... I tend to violate my own principles on a regular basis, so anything could happen. It's a good thing that I am relatively resilient!

the lights are on, but ...

this just keeps getting weirder. I am observing myself feeling numb, but not actually feeling numb. I know I am in completely different emotional territory than I have ever been before, but there is a narrator in my head telling me about it -- I am not actually experiencing it.

I used to wake up excited about the new day, now I just wake up. I'm functioning fine. I still talk, I still smile and laugh. I just don't feel anything. At first I thought maybe this was the good kind of neutral... you know... the Zen kind?

Except that if it was, I think I would feel some motion -- some expansion/contraction, some joy/sadness, some polarity. I suspect I'd be having some kind of interaction with the present moment, wouldn't I? I don't feel very present. And even that doesn't bother me.

Today my son turns 18. Last night as I turned out the light to go to sleep, I realized that 18 years ago at that very moment, I was in labor. And that 18 years from this moment, I will be 60. And instead of feeling excited about the next phase of my life, I heard myself thinking, What's the point of all this? So what? Eighteen years seems like forever; the future looks all stretched out before me -- heavy and dull and flat. It feels like a lot of time to kill.

Like I said, this just keeps getting weirder ...

The Witness part of me is watching all this with some mild amusement. The Narrator is saying things like, she wondered how many people walk around feeling this way all the time. The Writer in me wants to document it all, like a travelogue of a visit to a very different culture.

The Curious part of me wants to just pay attention and learn all about this experience. The Worrier tries to rally some angst, but none of the other parts are playing along. The Wise part of me knows it will all pass soon enough, even if I do nothing about it.

So I guess I'm just in watch and wait mode. For now, anyway.

how is this exactly what I wanted?

I'm playing around with a new self-inquiry prompt whenever I am feeling disappointed, upset, or in resistance to something: How is this exactly what I wanted? The answer exposes my hidden conflicting intentions.

Here's an example: When I first started my private practice, I was intensely focused on getting more clients. I studied marketing, took action on everything I learned, and then felt sort of mystified when my client base didn't markedly increase.

When I applied my question to this quandary in hindsight, it was quite illuminating. How was having not very many clients exactly what I wanted? The answer practically jumped out at me. Ever since I first became a parent, I have been unwavering in my resolve to be home for my kids. More clients would have meant less time and energy to devote to parenting. And of course, the strongest and clearest intention had the most energy backing it up, so it won out.

I don't ask myself this question to change anything, but rather to empower myself. It helps me realize that I am in the driver's seat and have been all along. When I bring the hidden conflicting intentions to the surface, I see that I am not at the mercy of caprice or some external force. I have created exactly what I wanted the most, whether I was consciously aware of that desire or not.

As soon as I remember that I am indeed in the driver's seat, I can take the wheel and steer myself in a different direction if I wish. Sometimes a new idea that synthesizes my conflicting intentions suggests itself, such as teaching classes or doing group sessions to increase my client base without detracting from my commitment to my family.

And sometimes I just sit back and smile, and decide not to change a thing. Because quite often it it becomes clear to me that the situation is actually perfect exactly as it is.

regrets

hit a bit of a rough patch this afternoon. the Why Couldn't I's have landed.

Why couldn't I just have waited to have that conversation until I wasn't so triggered ... Why couldn't I have kept quiet and let it go ... Why couldn't I have trusted more ... worked on my own stuff more diligently ... tried harder ... been more patient ... dug a little deeper ... hung in there a while longer... figured out some other way to work this out.

A lot of second guessing. A lot of wishing I could have done better.

And right alongside that stuff is the quiet awareness that if I could have, I would have. And even if I did, it might not have made any difference in the outcome.

Yesterday I noticed my ego unsuccessfully trying to blame him.

Today I was not as quick to note that it had succeeded in blaming me.

***
At least this has opened up some new territory for my Wish Book. Tonight I'll be writing about how I want to feel after ending a relationship. I'll describe how I will talk to myself, soothe myself, and forgive myself. Up until now I have written primarily about external details (such as the morning sun). This time, the focus will be completely internal.

digging

Thanks for all the kind words and wishes you have sent my way. I am quite surprised to find that this grieving experience is not at all like any from my past. Pleasantly surprised, actually.

Maybe I finally have learned enough energetic healing techniques to ease my own way. Or maybe there is some other kind of grace beneath the equanimity and acceptance I am feeling. My friends have certainly been amazing.

Whatever the reason, I am processing the loss quickly, without closing my heart. I am feeling tender, but not bruised ... grateful more than sad ... hopeful more than forlorn.

I can feel my ego trying to play the blame game, like it thinks that if I get mad, I'll get over it faster. But it just can't quite locate that groove anymore, and I end up smiling about it. He's a great guy. I love him still. Our relationship simply came to completion. There's no place for any blame to stick.

I think I will be ready to make some entries in my Wish Book tonight. I want to record the essence of all that was good about us together while it is still fresh, to make sure I never settle for less than that magic ever again.

And my musical connection to the Universe remains blissfully strong. Check out this song by Incubus that was on my car radio just now. The lyrics are below it:





We all have a weakness,
but some of ours are easy to identify,
look me in the eye,
and ask for forgiveness,
we'll make a pact to never speak that word again,
yes, you are my friend.

We all have something
that digs at us,
at least we dig each other.
So when weakness turns my ego up
I know you'll count on the me from yesterday.

If I turn into another
dig me up from under what
is covering the better part of me.
Sing this song
remind me that we'll always have
each other when everything else is gone.

We all have a sickness
that cleverly attaches and multiplies
no matter how we try.
We all have someone that digs at us,
at least we dig each other.

So when sickness turns my ego up
I know you'll act as a clever medicine.
If I turn into another,
dig me up from under what is covering
The better part of me.

Sing this song!
Remind me that we'll always have each other
when everything else is gone.

Oh, each other when everything else is gone.
Oooh
(15x)

If I turn into another
dig me up from under what is covering
the better part of me.
Sing this song
remind me that we'll always have each other
when everything else is gone.

Oh, each other
when everything else is gone.

this too shall pass

The older I get, the more convinced I am of the truth of this statement. I have yet to observe a single exception to it.

I'm grieving today -- letting go of a relationship that was profoundly significant to me. For the first time in my life, I find myself standing on the theshold, consciously aware that this process will have a beginning and an end, and that the only way out is through.

I know I will make it to the other side. I know it will be rough for a little while. I know I will be fine in the end.

I know I will cry many tears, and that my heart will call up tender memories somewhat compulsively, and when I think I am done and back to 'normal', I will see or hear or smell something that reminds me of him, and I will cry again.

I've been through this enough times before to know what to expect. So I'm basically just battening the hatches and lightening my schedule for the next few days.

You may hear from me soon, or you may not. I don't know exactly how this particular grief will play itself out.

Okay ... I'm diving in now. Catch ya later.

on repeat today

anyone else's parents have the soundtrack to Hair when we were kids?
I think I know it word for word. Oh, and Godspell, too. And Jesus Christ Superstar. I love those songs! (thanks, Mom!)

apparently, the moon is is the 7th house and Jupiter is aligning with Mars TODAY...

let the sun shine in!



the sound quality isn't great on this one, but the better one could not be embedded here. to listen to that version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=toshchjuXR4&feature=related

Now Healing

I've been attending a series of free teleconference calls on Saturday mornings with Elma Mayer of NowHealing.com. She's a very talented energetic healer, and people are experiencing amazing transformations right there on the line. (myself included!)

A private phone session with her is worth every penny of her fee of $90 for 25 minutes, so she is being incredibly generous by gifting us with these free group sessions. The work she does is profoundly effective, and she lets you focus in your own mind on the issues you want addressed, so you don't have to speak about them out loud.

It's really quite an incredible opportunity to effortlessly release blockages that are holding you back in any area of life. She even teaches you how to do some energetic healing on yourself.

I cannot recommend her highly enough. Just wanted to share this powerful resource with you. She's only offering these calls through the end of February.

Visit www.nowhealing.com for the scoop.

one down, one to go

We went out to an Italian restaurant to celebrate my son's 18th birthday last night. He's home on leave from the Coast Guard for a few days before he heads to a five month Electrician's Mate training in Virginia.

After a huge family style meal, they served us two giant pieces of RED birthday cake with white frosting and green sprinkles (the colors of the Italian flag, I reckon.) It looked disgusting. We ate the entire thing in less than two minutes.

Then we came home and watched home videos from when he was a baby. Life was so simple back then - the pace was slow, my house was clean and orderly, my marriage was stable and nurturing -- there was nothing much to manage or obsess about. Heck, we didn't even have the internet back then.

I had forgotten that when you are parenting a young child, life is all about simple pleasures and endless exploration. A walk around the building could take an hour, and with every step he noticed something new that warranted a thorough, hands-on examination.

Each worm on the sidewalk after the rain needed to be escorted back to his home in the grass. The garbage truck driver needed to be waved at. The mail needed to be retrieved within minutes after entering the box. These were important jobs, and little T was just the guy to do them.

I was amused to see that his penchant for leadership was already in place way back then. In one video, he was building a wooden sandbox using a power drill with my dad; his little dimpled hands trying in vain to squeeze the trigger and hold it steady on the screw at the same time. He wanted to take charge of the project so badly. He was only eighteen months old at the time.

Next week he'll be getting his first credit card and registering to vote. He's already been living independently in the Coast Guard for eight months, so these things are really just technicalities, but eighteen still feels like a milestone. He can finally take full charge of his life in every way.

It's been a long time coming. Some kids are in no hurry to grow up, but he's been waiting almost eighteen years for this!

Tonight I am feeling tremendous gratitude for the joy and privilege of raising my children the way I wanted to. Whatever else I may or may not accomplish in this lifetime, I will always have that.

A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove… But the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child.

--Forest E. Witcraft

You can be important in the life of a child whether you are a parent or not. Studies on resilience tell us that if only ONE adult in a child's life is consistently available to see and reflect their innocence and goodness, listen deeply, and encourage their dreams, IT IS ENOUGH.

Look around ... there are children everywhere: nieces and nephews, children of friends, neighbors, Little Sisters and Brothers who need mentors. If you have room in your heart for a child, please invite one in. Not every adult feels this calling, of course, and that's fine. But if you do, you don't have to wait until you adopt or give birth. There are lots of ways to play an important role in the life of a child.

And by the way, I'm not encouraging this only because it's good for the child. Loving a child changes your own heart in ways you can't possibly anticipate. It's the ultimate win-win.

beholding again

I spent a few hours with a beloved friend yesterday who is ten years older than I am. We dissected and examined every nuance of being an aging woman. We laughed, we cried, and by the time she left, I not only remembered what I had forgotten, but I had learned some new things, too.

I think a lot of what was going on for me the other night had to do with taking on cultural standards of beauty that did not belong to me. It's hard to describe, but it's sort of like I don't have many filters up to keep me separate from what I perceive.

One night about twenty years ago, my husband came home late from work and found me in bed, curled up in a ball and sobbing. He consoled me for a long time before I was able to articulate why I was grieving: a character in one of my favorite TV shows had been diagnosed with cancer. I was crying like she was my best friend or something. Weird, huh? I'm better at that nowadays (plus I don't watch TV anymore) but something about that big movie screen just sucks me right in. I know better than to go see horror flicks or scary movies, but this one seemed innocuous enough ...

Anyway, my theory is that these actresses are aware that they are aging. No doubt they have some strong feelings about it since appearance has a great deal to do with their livelihood. I soaked it all right up just like a sponge, and thought those feelings were mine. Of course, SOME of them were indeed mine, or I would not have resonated with them. But I think I absorbed a very amplified version.

So I had to do some personal inventory work to ground myself back into my own experience. Luckily, absolutely NOTHING in my life is dependent upon my appearance, so it really doesn't matter at all. When I got back into my own skin, I remembered that I spend about five minutes each morning in front of a mirror, and the rest of my time is spent looking at the beautiful faces of people I love. I am surrounded by beauty all the time!

I also remembered my dear friend Bernice, and the post I wrote about how beautiful she looked as she was dying: http://www.karenalonge.com/2006/08/beholding.html

That led to another insight. I do not know these actresses. I wonder if appearance alone, divorced from any relationship, more naturally leads to criticism and judgment.

Maybe it's like looking at only one side of a many faceted jewel. It's easier to focus on the flaws when you zoom in on just one aspect in isolation. I don't do that with people I know personally because I am busy enjoying so many dimensions of who they are that it all rolls in to one beautiful package.

So I'm done with this beauty concept for now. I'd rather appreciate the many loving faces in my life than criticize the lines on my own.

dark night of the ... uhh ... ego, I guess

I went to see He's Just Not That Into You tonight, and I cannot believe how much crap it triggered up in me. I loved the book that it was based upon, and I recognized pieces of my own history in almost every chapter. I must sheepishly admit that I have made tons of excuses for men over the course of my lifetime.

It started all the way back in high school:

He said he'd come by right after practice and he's not here yet ... maybe the coach kept him late today.

And progressed in college:

Yes, he only says he loves me when he's drunk, but he's just too shy to tell me his true feelings when he's sober.

Maybe he doesn't want to seem too eager, so he's waiting to call.

Here's a classic: Yes, I know he technically still has a girlfriend back home, but it's basically over, and he's just waiting until he can tell her in person.

Even into adulthood:

Yes, I know he's got an addiction, but he's already cut way back, and he says he wants my help kicking it for good.

He does love me, but he's just not into marriage.

I might have laughed out loud even more often during the movie if I hadn't been feeling so pathetic and lame.

I need to correct what I said up there. I did not make excuses for men. I made excuses for myself. I looked for reasonable explanations to help me avoid coming to the conclusion that I probably knew deep inside all along but did not want to admit: he's just not that into me.

Time after time, I tied myself in knots to avoid facing that fact. I've been thinking about this all night, and I'm still not exactly sure why I didn't think I could handle the truth. Maybe I would have taken the rejection so personally that I would have collapsed and had a nervous breakdown or something. I dunno. I'm sure my psyche had its reasons.

So there I am tonight, in the dark of the theater, feeling exposed and sheepish and rather idiotic, and I start noticing that most of the leading women in this film are getting older. I make the immediate mental leap that if even Jennifer freakin' Aniston is showing undeniable signs of aging, I am WAY past my prime.

And then it hit me like a ton of bricks: I am over the hill. I honestly never understood that expression before. I get it now though. In terms of conventional and cultural standards of physical attractiveness, the best of me has come and gone. From now on, it's all about inner beauty. Which I actually am okay with ... I'm just a little bit in shock because I didn't notice this side of the hill sneaking up on me.

Remember the Velveteen Rabbit who hoped that one day he would become Real? I hoped that one day I could become beautiful. Realizing I am "over the hill" means letting that dream go. Please don't judge me as being shallow. I realize it sounds ridiculous. It must be a goal that was formed by a very young part of me, because in my head, it sounds like the voice of a Disney Princess.

Eckhart Tolle would probably call it the pain body. Other spiritual teachers might source it in the Ego. Whatever ... all I can tell you is that it sucks.

anyway, after the over the hill whopper sunk in, all kinds of funky stuff started careening through my head:

If I can't be beautiful, at least I can try to be smart.

Maybe I should learn to be a better cook so I have something useful to offer.

My children and grandchildren will love me no matter how I look.

Good thing I work online and by phone. That way no one needs to know what I really look like.

Well, now that I am old, I can give up trying to be attractive and move on to other pursuits.

Yeah, it's been a real party in my head tonight. I don't know why I felt compelled to puke all this out into print, but now that it's done, I do feel like maybe I could do some writing in my Wish Book. I couldn't get anywhere near that option earlier this evening.

After that, I'm going to bed. After all, a girl needs her beauty sleep, right? (ouch ... this is no time for a pun!)

morning update: I did write in my Wish Book, and I woke up feeling more like myself again -- the self that really doesn't notice what I look like, and instead pays attention to how I feel and what I think and what I do. I also feel grateful that I'm not an actress, so I can do my aging in quiet obscurity among friends.

Wish Book update

Wow, is this ever fun! Today I was out in the world and I had an uncomfortable interaction with someone. Almost immediately, I felt the urge to go straight home and re-write it the way I wanted it to happen in my Wish Book.

There was very little mental rehearsal about what had happened. Instead my mind jumped straight into, "How would I like this to be instead?"

I'm finding that it's virtually impossible for me to write a scenario without feeling as if I am inside of it. An immediate and discernible vibrational shift occurs when I put pen to paper.

I can't seem to both remember and create at the same time, and it feels so much better to create.

I'm quite enthralled with this magical process. I think I'll get a tiny Wish Book to carry around with me in my purse!

a different kind of parenting

My daughter has a very different kind of mother than most of her friends. It's sort of ironic ... she is the most conservative, level-headed, and responsible member of her group, yet her friends think I am the coolest mom ever because they never hear her complain about me restricting her activities, grounding her, or criticizing her choices. They think I just let her run totally wild with no supervision.

While the other girls are calling their parents begging for permission to see a movie that will end 5 minutes after their curfew, my daughter quietly texts me to tell me where she will be and when she will be home. Apparently one of the other parents questioned my daughter about this the other day: "You just TELL your mom? Shouldn't you be ASKING her?"

My daughter said, and I quote, "Nah, she doesn't care."

And then she was mystified when her friend's mom instantly went into nurturing overdrive. I can just imagine what that mother was thinking ... Oh, this poor girl! She's from a broken home, and her mom works all the time and never comes to any of our social events. She needs some extra love and a nice big glass of milk so she can grow strong bones.

(I am cracking myself up with that milk thing, because I recently wrote a post for my other blog, www.advice-for-parents.com, about milk not doing a body good. If you want to read that: http://www.advice-for-parents.com/2009/02/my-daughter-wont-drink-milk-and-im.html)

So I explained to my daughter that although what she really means is, "My mom trusts me and doesn't micromanage my life," the other mother might have interpreted it as, "My mom does not care about my wellbeing or my whereabouts." Together, we came up with some clearer and less triggering responses, like, "My mom and I have already talked about this possibility."

What her friends and their parents don't know is that my daughter and I spend a lot of time talking. I hear in intimate detail about the day-to-day challenges she is facing academically, socially, emotionally, and physically. She has earned my trust by being totally transparent with me. I know what she is thinking. I know which decisions she is currently weighing. I know what conclusions she is drawing from watching her friends engage in high risk behaviors like sex and using drugs.

And on the other side of this relationship, she knows that I trust her, and she wants to live up to that. She knows that I understand that plans change, that her intentions are good, and that she will keep me posted. She knows that she can call me if she ever needs help and I will be there in a heartbeat, no questions asked. She knows she will not be punished for learning through experience, and that instead we will sit down and talk things through.

She also knows she can trust me to see the good in her no matter what. She knows she has my unconditional support - that I will never ever be disappointed in her or try to guilt her into anything. She knows there is no problem so big that we can't figure it out together.

So there is no reason to lay down the law with her, because she shows me every day how incredibly street- and people-smart she is, and she is making excellent choices. I don't need to micromanage her movie attendance, because we talked about it earlier that afternoon, and I know she will get home as close to 10 as she can. As far as I'm concerned, cell phones are miracles for the parent-teen relationship. Keep me in the loop, and I'm satisfied.

What her friends and their parents may interpret as maternal neglect is actually quite the opposite. It's trust, based on a great deal of transparency in our relationship.

The other night at a sleepover, the girls got to talking about how many times they have snuck out after midnight. You know what my daughter said? "That's just plain stupid. What kind of creeps are out on the streets at that time of night? Besides, my mom would know. She knows me so well, she would know the second she looked at me that I was feeling guilty about something."

I had to smile inside when she told me that. I'm not as sure as she is that I would indeed know. But I love that she thinks so.

And as for the 'feeling guilty' part of that comment ... she still remembers when she was just six or so, and she took money from my change jar. I, of course, had no idea that anything was missing. One day out of the blue she came up to me and handed me a dollar, saying, "This is yours, Mom." I replied, "No it isn't, honey. I didn't lose a dollar." She started crying. "I took it, Mommy! I took it from your jar!"

I held her while she sobbed, thanked her for her honesty, and we moved on. It's fascinating to me that she drew a major conclusion from that incident ten years ago: Telling the truth feels better than lying. Her little heart was truly burdened by her deception. All the honesty lectures in the world couldn't have come close to the internal feedback loop that she anchored that day.

So let me sum this up. I believe that we are in the midst of a cultural revolution regarding parenting. The old paradigm told us that we had to set limits, provide clear expectations, and keep iron fisted control over our teens - we not only had to manage their behavior, but their attitudes, too! Yikes. I'm tired just thinking about it.

We can see evidence that this no longer works all over the place. When I look at my daughter's peers, the kids with the strictest and most controlling parents are the ones who are engaging in the most high risk behaviors.

Parents simply can't be everywhere to enforce everything. Staying safe and sane in today's society requires better-developed internal motivation and control at a younger age than ever before. My theory is that a home environment rich in trust, transparency, goodwill, and open communication is very effective at fostering responsible, generous, high-functioning young adults.

For more information about my parenting consultations, click here or visit www.karenalonge.com

fruit first

I've been playing around with my eating lately, running experiments to see how I feel. This is what I've been eating most days, based purely on the answer to the question, "What sounds good right now?", and nothing else. No diet books, no advice from doctors or nutritionists, no research. Just me and my stomach.

fruit: clementines, mangos, grapes, pears, grapefruit, bananas, blueberries, avocado, and whatever is on sale. oh, and also occasionally dried apricots, strawberries, and raisins. I probably eat at least 10-15 servings of fruit every day. Mmm, I'm getting hungry for some right now!

veggies: salad greens, steamed zucchini and orange peppers, tomatos, sweet potatos, acorn squash. three or four servings a day

grains: millet, barley, and oatmeal. sometimes toasted sourdough bread. one or two servings a day.

nuts: soaked raw almonds, but I'm not in the mood for these very often.

meat/dairy: sliced natural or organic turkey. in cold weather, I like chicken soup. eggs, at most once a week, either scrambled or hard boiled. sometimes a bit of raw chedar cheese, but I seem to be losing my taste for it. probably one or two servings a day.

snacks: popcorn!! I am big into popcorn lately. probably at least 6 cups a day. I also like the Barbara's Animal Cookies, chocolate chip flavor, once a week or so. Oh, and the occasional scoop of ice cream or gelato. I love to eat it in a tiny bowl with a tiny spoon. Weird, I know. But satisfying.

other: we go out to eat occasionally, and I still ask myself, "What sounds good right now?" could be a chipotle taco, barbeque pork, or pizza. I'm not putting any limits on myself, and I'm fascinated to find that more often than not, I'd rather have fruit than anything else. For now, anyway. Anything could happen!

Oh, wait, I lost track of my point here. Okay, here it is: Early on in my experiment, I found that a great way to increase the number of servings of fruit per day is to simply to eat a piece before every meal.

This works great for kids. Put out a plate of apple and pear slices and some carrots to nibble on while dinner is being prepared, and you can feel good about snacking.

As an added bonus, a piece of fruit takes the edge off of hunger pangs, so you don't snarf more than you wanted of the meal and feel uncomfortably stuffed when it catches up with you.

One other thing -- I only eat when I am hungry, not when the clock says it's time for lunch or dinner. And I just happen to be hungry right now. So ... ta ta for now!

don't just do something ...

Hi, my name is karen, and I'm an action junkie.

I also suffer from DDD; Dream Deficit Disorder.

I'm in recovery from my compulsion to Decide and Do. It's quite a process -- after all, I have maintained these habits for many years! When someone I care about is suffering (including myself), I've historically been quite eager to remove the source of the snag so things can "get back to normal."

Sometimes, the solution was a decision: I'm giving up sugar. I will exercise every day.

Sometimes, the solution was an action: Send an email. Read the classifieds. Make an appointment.

The one teensy little problem with these solutions is that I'm not actually omniscient (shhh... don't tell anyone), so I can't actually KNOW the true source of the snag.

In the past, that small detail didn't stop me from springing into action anyway. Deciding or doing something, anything, made me feel like I was On It; I was Getting Things Under Control.

However, it has recently come to my attention that quite often, the only thing I get from all that decidin' and doin' is tired.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing generally wrong about decisions and actions. It's just that logic, reason, and hard work can be serious limitations when it comes to magic and miracles.

I've never been much of a dreamer. My goals have been firmly anchored to what my logical mind thought was possible. But for some reason, these days I am hungry for much bigger hopes and wishes than that. So I'm trying something new. Instead of deciding and doing, I'm dreaming. Here's an example:

I want my writing to be published as books. The logically based decide-and-do plan involves stuff like manuscripts and query letters and lots of rejections and persistence and patience and determination.

The dreaming approach involves spending 10 minutes when I first wake up every morning feeling as if I am already a published author. I did this the other morning, and found myself imagining an amazing personal assistant who took care of all my accounting, paperwork, and travel arrangements (to book-signings and workshops, of course!)

I also employed a kind and loving housekeeper who kept my home cozy and beautiful, a guest cottage that was always hosting someone delightful, and a big kitchen that was constantly overflowing with good food, good friends, and good conversation.

Today, "by coincidence," I crossed paths with the woman who will almost certainly become my first virtual assistant. It was easy! It was fun! It was not logical! And it happened anyway.

I can't wait to see what comes next...

here kitty kitty

Every time I log onto Internet Explorer, I am treated to a randomly generated sequence of quotes from Abraham-Hicks, courtesy of http://sun-angel.com/abraham/index.php. The synchronicities never cease to amaze me.

Here's one I saw for the very first time just a minute ago:

If you really want to find the perfect human relationship, look for someone who is cat-like. Likes to be alone and happy to be with you. Happy when you are there and happy when you're not there. Licks your face occasionally. Will take all the scratching and petting you are willing to offer. Feels secure. Sleeps when it feels like it. Hunts when he feels like it. Basks often. Meditates regularly. Never feels guilty, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER! Does emphatically what he wants to do. Is always glad to see you. Never cares when you leave... Seems like the perfect partner.

~ Abraham-Hicks

I don't think ALL kitties are this way, but I know that some are. It's certainly a far cry from what we've been socialized to think of as romantic love. I don't hear pop songs with lyrics like I'm happy when you come, and happy when you go. Yet I find this idea immensely satisfying ... and even a bit comforting, because it's exactly how I have come to feel in my current relationship (most of the time, anyway).

I am always happy to see my man when he arrives, and I love doing my own stuff when he leaves. When I first noticed myself feeling this way, I thought maybe something was wrong - maybe it was a sign of unhealthy detachment or distancing or something. But it just keeps feeling fine... happy when he's here, happy when he's not... happy to say hello, happy to say goodbye. Of course, they are different flavors of happy, but it's all good.

Purr... purr ... purr... meow!