Colette Lafia

The other day I was having lunch with a good friend, someone I have known for almost three decades of my life. As we were munching on our fresh salads, we were talking about our lives. I have been noticing a constant wave of dissatisfaction in my daily life. In part, this comes from fatigue as I continue to handle sleeping inconsistencies and also from handling the daily joint pain I am having in my toes and thumbs. But I have come to realize that it’s more than that. It also comes from not living my true self.

I had a strong image when I was meditating the other day. I felt a storm inside myself being contained in a box. That’s it, I thought: I feel like a storm inside a box. And the pressure was building.

As I was talking to my friend, she asked me about it. I began to realize that I needed to take responsibility for my happiness. I could no longer continue to be a victim of my own life. Yes, I have financial responsibilities. But I needed to really exam them and see if I had any choices to make.

I am exploring this. But realizing: 1) I have to take responsibility for my own happiness; and 2) I have to take myself out of the victim position.

I need to listen to the powerful image brewing in me, so it doesn’t create destruction in myself and my life.

What are you really feeling in your life right now? Are you willing to listen to it and take responsibility for what is really going on inside of you? You are the only one that can! Now that’s a powerful choice.

Sixteen years ago today my older sister died of breast cancer. She was in her late 30’s and I was in my mid 30’s. I’ve spent the last sixteen years trying to find a way to cope with the tragedy of the experience. It really broke my heart and the experience and loss of her devastated me. My body took a toll and has stored a lot of trauma from the experience. Slowly I have been releasing it. But today something else happened. I realized   I  needed to let go of the fear of the experience. I had been clinging to it for a long time.

When I went to mass today, to pray in remembrance of her and to pray for her lovely daughter who is now twenty-one years old, the priest spoke about the gifts that can come out of our tragedies. We can see life in a new way from such experiences. He spoke about a family he was counseling at the hospital that was facing an illness with their child. And he mentioned that the father said how much the experience had changed the family and now they could now really see what was important.

Later that afternoon, I was speaking to a mother at the school where I work about her experience losing a child to cancer, when the child was five and a half years old. “I know this might sound strange, but she was such a gift to us. She taught us so much about life.” She expressed to me that losing this little girl gave her the gift of realizing the importance of living every day. It also made her come to see that we are more than our physical bodies.

It was such an intimate conversation. And we were both grateful to share it in the hallway at school, next to the girl’s bathroom, while she was waiting for the bell to ring and pick up her boys.

I end this day asking myself: have I allowed myself to receive the gifts of this experience with my sister’s death. One thing I know for sure, she and I loved each other. However imperfect our relationship was and however difficult many moments together were, there was genuine love between us. And when she got sick, the love between us only deepened with compassion.

I am praying now to open to the gifts the universe wants to give me out of this profound, live changing experience. I know it’s time to transform the sorrow and let it become more than fear, and really let the love my sister and I shared become a healing force in me. Maybe I am meant to share that healing with others. I believe in love, in the goodness of life, in the beauty of sorrow, and in the possibility of healing.

I had a choppy night, awake on and off all night. As I face a long day at work, do I respond with anger or with compassion? The definition of compassion is: a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who is stricken by misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering.

I have been following the monthly gratitude program that Angeles Arrien has laid out in her recent book, Living Gratitude. The March reflection was on gratitude and compassion. One of the practices she suggested was to perform a compassionate act every day. She also suggests to notice where we extend compassion to others. And where others extend compassion to us.

Can I truly be a person that receives and gives compassion? It begins with being compassionate for myself. When I am not sleeping, I am lovingly allowing myself to rest, to invite relaxation into my tired muscles, my achy toes and joints, and to loosen the grip of control and frustration my mind is trying to hold onto.

It’s very basic, but takes practice and awareness to put into action.

The other day, when my husband and I were visiting my elderly mother in Palm Springs, I wanted to go swimming at the Spa Hotel before the day got busy running errands, cooking, and taking care of different matters. I woke up early, had my tea, and was ready to go. But my husband wasn’t ready. We had one car between us. I had a choice to get frustrated and impatient, or to relax into the moment, have compassion for him since he needed more time in the morning, and make the moment peaceful.

I began to feel tense and filled with my tendency to be frustrated and feel like I never have time for myself. However, I was able to stop myself and ask the question: what would be a more compassionate response for myself and for my husband?

I sat down. Took a few deep breaths. And reassured myself that everything would work out just fine if I went with the flow. I waited, not with anger boiling below the surface, but rather with kindness bringing a gentleness into my body. Soon, we left to the spa and had a relaxing morning, and then had more energy and compassion to bring to my mother as we helped her run errands, go shopping, and make a tasty dinner.

Compassion can change the tone and feeling of all we do: for ourselves, as well as for others.

Two weeks ago, I developed some sensitivity in my wrist and thumb joints. So along with my continual toe joint flare up, I am now handling wrist and hand restrictions. So today, when I went to yoga, and the instructor was leading the students in sun salutations, and I was trying to modify the poses, I was overcome with frustration.

It’s just not going to work out today. I quietly put my mat away and left the room. As I was putting on my shoes, the instructor came out. “Are you leaving,” she asked, looking at me puzzled. “I just can’t handle being such a special case all the time. First the toes, now the wrists and hands.” I started to cry a little, and she reached toward me and said, “Yes, you are a special case, but you are worth it.”

She looked at me and asked me not to leave in tears. I was so struck by her words — you are worth it. I wasn’t a problem to her. I thought about how difficult it is to accept myself with new limitations and to persevere. But it takes a caring teacher like Barbara to encourage, accept, and support a student along the way. Since I come from a big family, I never felt there was room to address my specific needs. What a gift she gave me in her words: you are worth it.

Ultimately, people just want to be accepted for who they are and where they are in their lives. This is what most of our seeking. And it’s a true gift to give it to one another, as well as to ourselves. I am worth it. You are worth it. I have a choice to give up on myself or to continue to adapt to the circumstances and conditions I find my body in right now.

Giving and receiving acceptance is such a powerful practice. What a difference it made in my life today!

The other day at the elementary school library where I work, a note appeared on my desk, written by a six-year-old girl. It read: Dear Mrs. Lafia, thanks for being a great helper.

The note was written in marker, and below the sentence was an illustration showing one big person and one little person, which I assumed was the girl and me.

Later that day, when the girl’s mother arrived at the library to volunteer to help hang some artwork, I asked her about the note. “Oh, she did that totally on her own at home,” the woman said. And what I really appreciated was that the mother hadn’t tried to make the note look conventionally right, or polish it up in any way. She allowed her daughter to be spontaneous and to respond from the heart.

I was completely amazed by the note. I recalled that the girl had been looking for a certain book week after week, but it had been checked out. When it finally was returned, I remembered that this person had been looking for it, and so I had gone to her classroom to gave it to her. The note was her spontaneous expression of gratitude.

I started to think about the importance of spontaneity within ourselves. When we have an instinct or impulse to respond in a certain way, in a generous way, in a way that feels good for ourselves and for others. We hear about the spontaneous acts of kindness, and can we find them in our lives!

Are we allowing ourselves to be spontaneous or are we holding back most of the time?  I mean spontaneous with who we are, with the gift of sharing, the gift of love?

After an emotional flood (this time from family events beyond my control),  I need to come back into myself. I must find some stability within myself, which I know is there. How do I come back into myself? First, by realizing that spinning outside of myself only creates a web for something else to get trapped in. Second, to remember ways that have worked in the past to comfort and calm myself. Third, to make a firm commitment to  restore my peace.

So I asked myself: what brings me any inner calm and peace. I start to remember places and activities that ground me in myself. I find my home to be a sanctuary, if I keep it clean, cook healthy food, and have fresh flowers, clean sheets, and the smell of home cooking in the kitchen.

I sweep. I make the beds. I open the windows. I give the flowers in the vase fresh water. I cook a lasagne.

The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow through the windows. And I pause. Admiring the beauty.

Pause. Feeding beauty, calmness and serenity in my home, in myself. Sweeping away all that I cannot control  that only festers anger and ultimately hurts my well being.

Make a list of what makes you feel calm, serene, and full of love and beauty.

1. The blooming magnolia trees

2. The baby owl at the park

3. A fresh apple raisin muffin from my favorite bakery

4. The Mary altar at the Cathedral up the street

5. The folded towels in the linen closet

6. A good joke

7. A hug

8. Fresh air

9. Singing to myself in the car

10. Saying all the things I am grateful for every day

Emotions can be complex and  hit us strongly at times. But as the strong winds of an emotion overcomes us like a powerful storm, what keeps us anchored?

Yesterday at work a young teacher told me she was pregnant. In the moment, I shared her joy, but later in the day, maybe because I was tired and vulnerable, I spiraled into my memories of trying to get pregnant and the  sadness I felt over never conceiving and having children. A strong wave of grief came over me. I cried. I could hear the question: why? why does it work out for some people and not for others? But I didn’t feed the question, knowing it was not a thread I needed to pull.

Instead, I talked with a trusted colleague at the school and shared my feelings. “You’re mourning,” she said. And by her naming my experience and witnessing it, I felt some relief. Later that afternoon,  I came home and took a bike ride, inviting the fresh air, the clear sky, and the tall trees to be my spiritual companions as I rode through the park. Again, I began to feel some relief.

When my husband came home, we talked, and the compassion between us around what we had experienced together continues to be a source of healing. I really appreciate the way he doesn’t dismiss my feelings and understands the complexity and layers to it, especially for a woman. He said, “let love be the center of your life, and let everything, the joys and the sorrows, come out of that.” Such good, wise words.

That evening, even though I was tired, I went to my drawing class, and allowed my creativity to be another healing force for me, a spiritual companion, something that activates, heals, soothes, and invigorates my spirit. Again, I began to feel some relief.

During the early morning, I had a flash of the young woman again, and I smiled at her in my imagination and repeated the mantra: I trust in the way my life has unfolded. I trust in the way my life is unfolding.

Recently my elderly mother, who is going through many health concerns, said to me,  “Our attitude is everything.” She has said this to me many times and usually I just complacently agree, but this time I paused and asked myself: what is attitude? And really, why is it so important.

Right now I notice that my attitude is negative and gloomy. I have not been sleeping with any ease for quite a while and it’s wearing me down. Usually, I’ll get a break in the cycle, but for the last month it hasn’t let up. As much as I want to have an easy and relaxed attitude about it, I can’t seem to. It’s turned into a struggle and I know that only makes it more difficult.

How can I affect my attitude?

I started reading Living Gratitude by Angeles Arrien and she poses some challenging questions: Can you look at your life through grateful eyes? Can you focus on what is working in your life? And I would add: Can you do these things when things feel like they aren’t going well?

I can start there. After my tantrum about not getting enough sleep, I can pause and see the hours of sleep I did get and I can say thank you for the hours of sleep of I did receive.

The more I can focus on what is working in my life, I might just slightly be able shift my attitude towards something more grateful and hopeful. And hope does shines some light on darkness.

It’s really valuable to reflect on what attitudes we hold? And even question them. An attitude that is hopeful and grateful may offer some relief and even more happiness in our daily lives. For today, I will invite myself to see my life through “grateful eyes.”

As the Christmas lights and ornaments come off the tree, and I clean out the hallway closet  (finally), a tone of reflection fills the air. Over the past few days, I have been perusing my journals and notebooks from this year, reflecting on what were my greatest satisfactions, my most pressing difficulties, and my largest teachings for 2011.

As I charted my discoveries, I came to realize that one of my biggest teachings this year came from my big toe and the toe tendonitis that I have been handling for almost a year now. Our teachers can come in any form and often  surprise us.

It has taken enormous patience to face the slow healing process of this ailment. What at first seemed like such a small thing has ended up having a tremendous effect on my daily  life.  I have had to slow down (I can’t even make a quick stop to the grocery store — everything takes time!).  I have had to accept pain. I have had to learn to listen to my body and respect its limits. I have had to find the inner strength to meet my daily commitments, using crutches at work and wearing an orthopedic boot as needed. I have had to learn to be content NOT going anywhere (traveling).

Patience. Self Love. Acceptance. Limitations. Contentment. Letting Go. My body is my teacher. Will I bring love or frustration to the situation? It’s a constant dialogue.

Usually, I would reflect on my year in terms of “what have I done/what have I accomplished or achieved?” But this year, my 50th year of life, the question changed. It was more of a year of coming to a deeper, interior relationship with myself and what was going on in my life. In all of it — my continual sleep issues, dealing with my toe pain, having to push myself and meet my work commitments, supporting my mother through many health issues, and my lack of creative fulfillment — I have found new things emerging.

In the darkness, there has been light. In the pain, I have found merciful and compassionate love. In the disappointment, I have found the calling for acceptance and detachment. In the anxiety, I have heard the call to trust and sense that God is with me. And in the feeling of failure, I have caught the glimpse of fullness.

This year, I joined a weekly mediation group and I was finally able to forgive and let go of some family pain. I also began to see how valuable “letting go” really is and have ended the year with the commitment to stop chasing a fixed solution to my sleep inconsistencies. I have come to realize that everything is ultimately about my relationship to it.

In all that happened and didn’t happen, my spirit is growing and healing and loving and living. Nothing can take that away!

Can gratitude become the foundation of my life? Recently my brother was in town during the Thanksgiving holiday. He is a good guy and I am glad we could spend time together. But after he left,  the old demon of comparison had me in its grip. My brother was fortunate enough to make enough money early in his career so he doesn’t have to stress about an income anymore. Of course, I wish that was my story, but it isn’t.

After he left, I could hear the laundry list of disappointments growing in my head. I talked about it with my husband, who also expressed his own frustrations. The more we carried on with the conversation, the darker the room became and the thicker the air felt. And, as though a bell rang, a loud school bell, I realized that I was just being destructive. That my response was old and familiar and completely unsatisfying. I was not being grateful!

“I am going to destroy my life with this ungrateful response,” I said. I opened the window in the bedroom and began to toss all the negative, ungrateful responses out the window. “Goodbye,” we both said.

I have become so clear that a lack of gratitude will destroy me and those around me — it will steal my spirit and leave me out in the cold. It’s not the right response to the gift of life. Now, every day, I am nurturing gratitude by keeping a thankfulness journal. I jot down in the morning or the evening, 5 things I am grateful for. Since the Christmas season is one of gift giving, I have chosen to really receive the absolute gift of my life and say Thank You!