Created: Monday, 10 March 2014 14:17
I woke up feeling great. I might not have, had I not Spoken Strong the day before.
I needed new calcium, so I asked Bob to get me some. The bottle looked similiar to what I was used to, but my first teaspoonful was way sweeter than normal. I read the ingredients - it contained xylitol, which irritates my digestion. I mentioned it to Bob who noted that it in fact did, but assured me that the amounts were so small there shouldn't be a problem.
This is the point where in the past, I would habitually defer. But I thought about it, and decided not to take my second teaspoon. When Bob came back up I told him,
- I'd rather not risk the xylitol, even in small amounts.
I anticipated push-back from him, but got none. He replied, "I agree with you," and got me a bottle of what I was used to.
Bob lives in a Mac truck body, and I can't make him responsible for the care and feeding of my Ferrari body. He's a great ally, and he lives pretty intimately with my sensitivities, but I live with them even more intimately. That's why I need to speak up a first, second and third time when I have a concern.
I suspect his initial response was habitual and by questioning it, he had a moment to think about it. Perhaps he remembered what happened the last time we didn't respect my sensitivities. I was so irritable that, as hard as I tried not to spread it around, I saw fear that I might explode any moment when I looked in his eyes.
The key learning here is that it isn't just xylitol or some other irritant that causes problems. It the communication habit of going unconscious and silent at key points where we need to keep talking, exploring, and making decisions based on due consideration.
Where do you back off when you need to stay the course and go forward?
Created: Friday, 07 March 2014 14:35
The research is clear. We get more done and do it better without interruptions. We can't control all interruptions, but we can minimize them.
I was considering how to ask someone not to interrupt me while I was working, and decided it was more graceful to say:
- Is there anything you need from me before I start this?
He asked a question and let me work uninterrupted.
Created: Thursday, 06 March 2014 15:47
"We need to heal your digestion gently," the wise intuitive nutritional counselor told me. "Baby steps." Her words sounded wise and true.
"I figured out what's wrong with your digestion," the brilliant analytical nutritional counselor told me. "We need to hit it hard." His words sounded accurate and daunting.
Both these messages came on the same day.
I'm married to one of the most respected natural health advisers in the area. It was awkward to get input from one of the most revered intuitive nutritionists in the area. I anticipated contrast - but not this extreme.
Her approach is to nurture the flora in the gut so nothing harmful can thrive. His is to kill the invaders. They both have elements of the other's approach, but the emphasis is very different.
Bob softened. He suggested we see what would happen with Vivian's protocol and THEN hit it hard. He liked what he saw. His input shifted from opposition to augmentation. He became a very valuable resource. And then one month later, he joined me for my follow-up session with Vivian.
"I'm impressed with what you've done," he told her. "I've always heard you should never treat your own family. I was turning Meryl into an object - a problem to be fixed, instead of relating to her as my loving and beautiful wife."
"We make a great team," Vivian replied. It was clear she hadn't been thinking of me as part of the team, but I let that pass.
Fast forward a week. I hear Bob on the phone with a woman he has mentored. Their attempts to address her health challenge was unsuccessful. "I recommend Vivian," Bob told her. "Meryl has been working with her because my approach with her was too strong. Vivian is the real deal."
So is Bob. His ability to learn from this and adapt is testament to that.
Created: Wednesday, 05 March 2014 15:46
I've never had a visible health challenge before, so this is the first time I've experienced people looking worried and shaking their heads at the sight of me. It's good and reasonable to want to inquire about such a rapid weight loss. I respect that. I also know how heavy some reactions feel to me. I don't expect people to know how to talk about my struggles, but this does give me an opportunity to discover what feels right and helpful and what makes me want to stay home instead of go out where people might give me that pathetic look.
It's not anorexia. I eat all day long. It's not cancer. I'm losing weight because the foods I can digest are ones that are recommended for a weight loss program. I'm losing weight because at this stage of the process, healing the flora and killing the bacteria in my gut are priority. I am not losing muscle - just fat. I'm actually very healthy by most measures.
In fact, I feel more optimistic than ever because I know what I can eat and can't eat and I know what my issue is and what to do about it. It's a long slow process, but an exciting and promising one.
So while I appreciate concern and interest, I'd like to feel listened to. And I don't feel that when someone looks at me and shakes their head with a worried look, and tells me, "Don't lose any more weight." Didn't I just explain that I'm eating all day long (every two hours) and doing everything I can to keep the weight on while addressing the bigger, underlying issue? Or did I imagine that?
How many times do you need to remind me how skinny I am now? If I had gained weight, would you be reminding me multiple times of how fat I've become?
I just told you how optimistic I am - that I'm healing an issue I've had for years, and I expect to emerge more vibrant than ever. Why are you looking at me like you're planning my eulogy?
It's okay. People are well intended. There are plenty of others who can listen and engage with me where my heart is with it. It's just that I never want to miss an opportunity to learn to communicate better. Next time someone is facing a health challenge in my world, I will know from first-hand experience how to better respect their process.
Created: Tuesday, 04 March 2014 14:01
Shopping at Eve's Revolution Boutique is always a sweet experience. It's not about the surprise deals or the fact that I seldom leave my house without wearing something from her store. It's more that being there is like visiting a beautiful friend with a distinctive style that celebrates beauty. Eve is a skilled marketer - I respect that. More than that, everything in the store reflects who she is.
Recently she invited me to bring clothes and accessories in for consignment. I was hesitant because she is so selective that I can bring a car full of items and only consign a few. Also, she is only accepting spring items these days, and I was still focusing on my winter wardrobe. I decided to set an appointment anyway.
So I sorted and sifted and cleaned and pressed and prepared, and brought in three armloads and two boxes of items for her to peruse. Surely she would want something out of all that.
Eve was highly apologetic, and I assured her I had come prepared for that outcome. I had an appointment with Kristin at another shop in an hour.
Kristin wanted 65 items.
Then I went to Rene's store. She took another twenty items.
I returned to my car with a sense of release. It felt like a ton of dead weight had been removed from me. I could function - and take my wardrobe management to the next level of me-ness. Goodwill got the benefit of the rest of the items.
Eve could have taken one item just as a gesture of goodwill. I'm glad she didn't. Eve is a role model for me of someone who is impeccably true to who she is. Her shop is such a delight because she knows who she is. I've watched her style develop since she opened 13 years ago, and she remains completely true to her evolving style. Her style is so clear and pure that anything that isn't a match sticks out like a blue suit and red tie at an Apple convention. I think of Eve as I weed my closet to reflect who I am more completely. I'm not at her level of impeccability, but I'm headed in that direction.
I love Kristin and Renee and enjoy shopping in their stores as well. What's different is I sift through a variety of styles at their stores. It's not like scavenging at Goodwill, but it's not as distinctive as the Eve experience.
My question for you is, what is the you-experience? Is it clear to others who you are and what they can count on with you? Do you take everything that is offered you, or are you so clear about who you are and what you do that anything that isn't a fit is immediately obvious?
I continue to strive for Eve's level of me-ness in my own life, and hope my phrases and missives help you be true to you, too. Eve is impeccably herself and that's the ticket to her success. Being impeccably you is the ticket to your success.
Created: Monday, 03 March 2014 03:02
Early in the conversation I told Angela about my gallbladder episode in the night. Angela is interested in hearing about those experiences both as a friend and as a health professional. The conversation eventually drifted to a discussion of a confusing situation that has been troubling me in an important relationship. Angela listened to my mullings with insight and caring. Then she asked the most wonderful question. She asked,
- May I tell you what I think is beautiful?
Knowing Angela, I anticipated something I wanted to hear.
"You're processing all the emotions that are associated with gall-bladder, and that means you won't have to deal with them again later. Most people just ignore the emotions."
Angela's words touched me on many levels. The comment took my attention to the emotions I observe myself during gallbladder incidents. I definitely notice a specific mindset when my gall-bladder is not happy. Her words helped me watch for traces of gallbladder emotional contamination.
The main gift of her words, however, came from her validation of the integrity of how I process relationship quagmires. Sometimes people hear my attempts at sorting confusion as complaining. Angela knows better.
I dreamed that I was talking to young service personnel about errors, flaws and inefficiencies in their service. I was seeking to collaborate on improvement. The young workers responded by rolling their eyes and dismissing me. In the dream, I personalized the judgments and doubted myself. I was ready to give up, but decided to speak with a manager. It felt like a last ditch attempt, but the manager listened with interest. She sought to understand where I was coming from and found my input useful.
The message is pretty clear. Just because some people can't hear what you say doesn't mean you don't have anything important to say. Some people will put up walls and resistance - that doesn't mean you're wrong to speak. In fact, your efforts to clarify are beautiful, even if your words don't land as you intend.
May I tell you what I think is beautiful? People like Angela who recognize the beauty of the process. We've been friends for years and we've been through a few beautiful processes ourselves.