Once upon a time, I believed that in order to be happy and seen as worthy of love, I had to follow the rules, the plan for Good Southern Girls, and carefully tend to my Role in Life.
The plan was something like this:
- Be a good girl in high school and plan for college
- Get married to a man with a Good Job
- Buy a 3-Bedroom Starter Home and get a dog.
- Have babies and a job, but not a career because Women with Careers are a Threat to Men
- Join the PTA and make Life Appear Perfect
- Have the right hairstyle and wear the right clothes. Nothing flashy or trashy, now. It has to be classic and classy, cause momma’s can’t be sexy.
- Ladies don’t like sex; they only dole it out as a duty.
- No matter how crappy things get, put a happy face on it ‘cause, baby, that’s what Good Girls Do
- You must do what’s expected of you, always.
- Never say no.
- Keep a perfectly clean house, and when you go out in public, your children should be perfectly groomed (and quiet, because children should be seen not heard)
- If your marriage doesn’t feel supportive, pretend that it is.
- If your husband has an affair, it’s your fault, darling, because obviously you can’t keep him satisfied.
- If your marriage goes bad and (gasp) you head for divorce, it’s all YOUR fault because you weren’t pretty enough / sexy enough / thin enough / submissive enough / etc.
- When you get divorced, have the good sense to be demure and sad, as if you were widowed, because you don’t want to become a Divorcee because that’s a threat to other women.
Yes, darling, I grew up believing that these were the rules and anytime I stepped outside of them, then I would forever change my chance at Being Worthy. You see, those rules are the beliefs of a person who thinks their life’s fate is sealed.
And the story of life was called “The Art of Surviving”.
When I got divorced, I continued to go through the motions for a long while. I hoped that if I followed The Rules that before me would soon be laid the Plan for Divorced Women with Children so I would know how to continue surviving.
The first weekend I had no children and I was Home Alone, I have to admit I didn’t know what to do with myself. But on those quiet Sunday mornings, I began hearing the still, small voice of my heart.
Instead of following a Plan designed by others, I discovered that I could create my own plan for my life.
I could choose what to do with my time.
I could choose what to do with my body and my space. I could choose to reinvent myself. I could embrace my desires for adventure and structure my work around it. I could give into my gypsy soul leanings and bask in soul-altering travel and relationships.
I could choose to step outside my box, and then step back into known safety.
I could choose to thrive. I could choose to rest. I could choose to explore my edges. I could consciously and wholeheartedly live each day. I could be present and not worry about the future. I could allow my past to stay behind me.
I could choose to consciously live instead of unconsciously survive.
I took a meditation class with Buddhist Monks. Colored my hair. Redefined my relationship to Church. Discovered how to shine my karma. Found my Soul’s home in Washington DC. Wore stockings and found healing through sex.
And, to be honest, I slipped in and out of consciousness.
I’d get brave and step out on the frozen lake of life. I’d walk slowly and carefully and admire every crystalline moment. Then, fear would set in and I’d rush to get off the uncertainty of what was below the ice and inevitably slip and fall in.
It’s easy, then, to give into the fear and nurse our hurts and believe that we are Stuck and Unable to Change and Without Choice of any sort.
Because it’s, frankly easier to just go through the motions. It’s less work to roll out of bed at the last minute, rush here and there, mark time throughout the day, fill our time in the evenings indiscriminately, eat crappy food that’s easier than cooking and then go to bed.
We lie to ourselves and tell us that things like journaling and meditation don’t work for US. That others get to lead a life that’s happy and of their choosing and that we have to lead a life of duty and should and what’s expected.
But let’s be honest here, darling. You can choose to go through the motions. You can choose to cling to the stories of how you’ve Been Done Wrong.
Or after you’ve caught your breath after falling into the frigid waters, you can get up and change your clothes and start the next day fresh.
Living a conscious life will seem like an oxymoron to those in the outside world. But we won’t care, because we’ll learn that it doesn’t matter what others think about us. And, in fact, living a conscious life will piss people off.
My darling, it’s faith in yourself and learning to listen to the small still sound of your heart.
What does a conscious life look like? I promised you last week that I would give you some examples:
- It’s dancing like a wild woman and meditating like a saint.
- It’s holding our stories close and not being vulnerable except to those who have earned the right while creating our art for the world.
- It’s choosing to be around those who feel safe and supportive while exploring our edges.
- It’s being mysterious and exciting, but ditching drama as a lifestyle.
- It’s tending to the details of our daily rituals while letting go of the details that tie us to perfection.
- It’s creating routines that serve our goals, yet isn’t about living on auto-pilot. It’s creating nourishing rituals that allow us to daily get in touch with the sacred parts of ourselves. It’s letting go of what isn’t working and tending to the details of what sets our soul on fire.
- It’s planning our menus, creating our days, and attending to our daily needs.
- It’s gazing and nourishing and supportive and lush and disciplined and compassionate.
- It’s sitting with the uncomfortable nature of awareness, ditching what you’re only tolerating, and stepping into what scares you.
- It’s clearing the clutter blocking our path so that we can tune into the voice of our heart more often
- It’s reading the comics and mindless fiction, but not being afraid of Rumi or the Classics.
- It’s wearing high heels one day and running shoes the next. It’s buying that gorgeous dress and those fabulous yoga pants and wearing them instead of hanging them in your closet.
- It’s learning to trust your intuition.
- It’s using the china for a weeknight dinner, wearing your best underwear and using every drop of that expensive perfume.
- It’s fresh flowers in the kitchen and the bathroom. It’s burning a favorite candle.
- It’s understanding that you don’t have to wear masks or play a role to be loved.
- It’s understanding that you don’t have to hustle for love.
- It’s letting go of grudges and learning the art of forgiveness. Especially when it comes to forgiving ourselves.
- It’s letting go of relationships that drain us and tending to our own precious focus.
- It’s choosing faith. Choosing love. It’s choosing ourselves over the fear of being alone. It’s choosing courage. It’s choosing to evolve and grow.
It is knowing that we have a choice.
You get to experience joy. You get to be happy. You get to have fun. And, darling, know that choosing to live a conscious life means that it will be gloriously messy and imperfect. And, baby, it takes work or else you can slip back into the unconscious.
Are you ready to go from existing and surviving and really living? Darling, it’s time to take that first baby steps towards what your soul desires.