There’s a big difference between looking through the glass at life and being ankle deep in it.

I just came back from one of those big trips you take when you want to feel alive again. You go not just to get a break from your own knee-deep responsibilities. You hope that by stepping away from your life, you will gain clarity . . . new energy . . . new perspective.

I knew it was time for this trip to Vietnam and Cambodia with my husband. I was starting to feel a comfortable distance from life. Running on autopilot; resting in the ease of routine and habitual choices; feeling victim to the pace of my days; procrastinating; observing my life rather than being fully in it. I even felt distant from my own heart.

So off to a far away land. Immediately the heat, smells, sites and flavors woke up my senses. And then my heart broke open . . . seeing the pain of poverty mile after mile . . . yet feeling the peace behind the eyes and the smiles of everyone in my path.  

Each day I had greater desire to get closer to the people, to be deeper in their worlds.  I would look out of the car window at the rice paddies as we sped along, watching the back breaking work of the straw hatted workers, curious about how rice is grown and harvested.  My desire for a perfect photo for my walls shifted to wanting to experience the feeling of being in the rice paddies myself.  I became obsessed with the idea.  But what was I going to do?  Tell our driver to stop the car and march out through the wet fields and saddle up next to a farmer?

Yes. That was what I was going to do.  We were on a small dirt road in the scorching heat of the afternoon.  I found the courage to verbalize my request, “Would it be possible for me to plant some rice?”  Our guide turned his head with a wide grin.  A minute later my shoes were off, and three dark faces with bright bright eyes were welcoming me to join them.  I slowly stepped into the slippery mud and sank to my ankles. A child like energy burst within me as I felt the mud between my toes. I was handed my own bunch of young rice sproutings that had been pulled by hand just to replant them again evenly in order to maximize the harvest. One by one I pushed the small stem deep into the clay like earth, being coached on the right distance between plantings.  The fully clothed ladies cackled under their hats. It was a joyful moment for all of us.  I could have stayed there all afternoon, ankle deep in life.

I’m back now.  Determined to feel the deep texture of my life and the hearts and desires of those in my daily path.  I’m done with the distance that makes us numb to others and keeps life safe and easy.


What distance are you keeping? Why? What might you gain by rolling down the window, getting a little muddy, allowing a new closeness in your life?

I took my daughter down to City Hall on Valentine's Day for One Billion Rising.  As we rode the crowded Muni I looked at her patient innocent face.  She knew I wanted to dance with a bunch of other women I didn't even know.  She knew she had to come with me.  She knew it was about ending violence against women around the world.  

I felt such gratitude that she didn't know the extent of abuse, violence, and oppression that some girls her age experience here in our own city and throughout every country on this planet.

I danced to add my own energy to the collective movement of women rising all over the globe.  And when it was over, walking back to the Muni, holding hands, she said, "Good job, Mom."

I thanked her for the compliment, but then realized I needed to make sure she understood why it really was a good job.  How could I explain how my dancing reduced violence? 

I tried, "In life there is a lot we see that we want to change. It can feel overwhelming and futile.  But when we join together in a collective voice, we are louder, we are seen, we are heard."  She got it.

Dancing with hundreds of others made me want to take a stand more often to help shift the world.  I want my daughters to learn how to act on their desires for change too. 

On March 8 there will be one more Flash Mob in San Francisco.  If you would like to participate, I am teaching the routine next Thursday night, February 21. It's designed for everyone ~ you don't have to be a dancer.  If you just want to dance on that night, please do!  And if you have a daughter, bring her too!

Blessings,
Amy      

It’s a part of life that we always know is there. Sometimes we need it more than others. Sometimes we are the one who is needed.  Friendship.  Women supporting, knowing, celebrating each other.

Our friends offer a space for deep honesty, to try on different dreams, test our own ability to love unconditionally and continue to practice receiving.

This weekend I found myself curled up on my couch with two wonderful friends for a spontaneous, very brief, but very real sharing. I realized that I am being held up all the time by my girlfriends’ unspoken understanding of what it means to be a woman; now, here, in all of its beauty and complexity.

And when I want to shrink, it’s my friends who are most able to help me find sure footing and continue to grow.

It is that historical, powerful, yet quiet truth of women supporting women that helps our world stay afloat in the worst of times.  Now more than ever it is taking shape beyond personal friendships to a global movement of women knowing we all need to be a collective strength in order to see any shift happen for our next generation.

My wise friend Shasta Nelson, the CEO of GirlFriendCircles.com, shares so eloquently in her blog,

“Friendships let us practice being the people this world needs. We can practice:
*   cheering for people even when we’re jealous.
*   listening even when we think we’re right.
*   empathy even when we’re tempted to judge.
*   serving even when we’re busy.
*   saying “I forgive you” even when we’re disappointed.”

I think these are beautiful reasons to practice mindful friendships. Shasta also has a new book that launches today! – Friendships Don’t Just Happen!, The Guide to Creating a Meaningful Circle of Girlfriends. I was just at her book signing last night. Check it out!

It’s not often we take time to honor our friendships.  I hope some time, during this month of love, you do.  And remember, as my teabag told me this morning, the whole world becomes your friend when you practice compassion.

Blessings,
Amy      

PS. Join me on V-Day, February 14, along with hundreds at City Hall in San Francisco or at an event near you to dance as part of One Billion Rising, a movement to end violence against women around the globe.

In life things break.  Right now I have a broken toe, dishwasher again, a favorite bowl, a chipped friendship, and a little broken dream.

When something breaks it requires our attention.  I can tell you from experience, if you don’t stop and tend to it you will get a foot in a walking cast, piles of dirty dishes, glass splinters, a nagging conscience, and chronic malaise.   

No matter how aggravating, uncomfortable, or overwhelming it may be, the sooner we deal with what’s broken, the lighter we become.

Whether it requires patience for a slow heal, help from others, piecing it together or letting it go . . . doing the work is the important exercise.  

When material things break, we are immediately reminded of what really matters in life.  When we physically break, it’s a forced exercise in self care.  When parts of our lives feel broken, we are invited to find our most vulnerable and most strong selves.  All gifts in life.

What’s broken for you? Might it be life’s invitation to slow down, pay attention, and do the work?

May “Doing the Work” in your life be less about fixing and more about accepting imperfection, being comfortable with the uncomfortable, knowing when to let go, feeling your strength, healing with your heart, and lightening your load.

And while we work on ourselves, may we all continue to work together to heal our broken world.  It needs us.