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Embracing Freedom in Your 50s: A Journey of Self-Discovery

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Something magical happens for women around the 50’s. Maybe it has something to do with the deluge of hormonal changes finally receding. Perhaps it’s the decades of life lessons filled with enough contrast to cause a blind person to see. It could be the loss we’ve accumulated in our psyches and experienced in our bodies.

Maybe it’s all of the above.

Regardless, whether it’s the tightness in your back each morning or the awareness that you are inching ever closer to the once-upon-a-time-retirement age, new generations arriving faster than Lucille Ball’s conveyer-filled chocolates, you wake up to the realization that you have a very important choice to make: to live with fear or freedom.

Lucille Ball and Vivian Vance struggle to wrap chocolate candies on a conveyer belt. (Credit: YouTube)

Your Pain — Only Part of the Story

Ever notice how when you have a slight cold or just feel meh and you head to work or an event that you feel you “can’t get out of?”

Typically, you feel better after attending whatever said public outing is. I believe this stems from what we are focused on: interacting with others, taking action and/or completing tasks.

The same concept of physical pain can be applied to our emotions. There’s a tendency for us to contract when we experience something negative. Our heart constricts. It’s no wonder we often say we feel “heartache” or that our “heart is breaking.”

But what we resist, persists. And the 50th decade of life has shown me it’s time to remove the already-falling-apart armor of the ego. Beneath the pain is the truth of who we are: unique, precious, divine, and wise because of those hard-won lessons.

The 50’s is a time of Michelangelo. 

YOU are the angel. Your life has brought pain and suffering, joy and ease — all of it to expose the gorgeous essence of who you were ALL ALONG.

AZ Quotes on Goodreads

Pain is but a teacher. It reminds us to pay attention. It guides us towards what matters: our authentic, imperfectly perfect selves.

The Real Story of You

I’m so thankful that I didn’t grow up with social media. Days were spent outdoors, playing hopscotch and roasting marshmallows with others. Community meant eye contact — sans a screen. On line meant you were literally on a line in a store. 

The convenience of technology is WONDERFUL. How lucky are those of us in our 40’s on up. We were given a sacred space to experience life more slowly, more digestibly. What a gift for us.

To arrive at this more than half century mark on Earth means that you’ve both witnessed and experienced humanity’s kindness and cruelty. 

What happens from this point forward is up to each of us. It always was, but age arrives with an awareness that we are all connected. That separation was always an illusion. 

Fear contracts and exacerbates pain of all kinds.

Freedom is a deep inhale. It looks within for peace and guidance. It honors experience, as just that: a moment of life living you, without attachment. It acknowledges pain but doesn’t identify with it.

Freedom means choice. Sure, the big choices like where to live and how to spend your days. 

But it also means, perhaps more importantly, the freedom to choose the smallest of things that make the biggest impact in a life: the freedom to choose how you relate to this world, to others, to challenges.

Life in the fifties has brought the gift of no longer looking over my figurative shoulder. I know I’m enough. And this knowing is reflected, again and again in the choices I make that are internally guided. Motivation is internally-driven. Self-expression reigns of utmost importance. And self-worth is derived steadily, wonderfully, from within.

If you want to know the story you are telling about yourself, tune into your inner dialogue. How are you speaking to yourself? With kindness or criticism? With blame or accountability? With honesty or rationalization?

The Earth School offers ample opportunities to reflect back to us where we are vibrationally. Self-compassion and self-worth are foundational to reflecting back a freedom-filled, authentic, and rewarding experience.

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Navigating the Path from Fear to Love

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The death of illusion is an opportunity to breathe new life. (Image created using AI on CANVA)

There’s a lot of death these days. No, not the physical death. That’s arriving at some point for all of us. Physical death is constant — a sure thing and like all of life’s cycles on this beautiful planet.

No, I’m referring to a spiritual death. People are losing their souls to the ego to the tender parts of themselves they’ve numbed with everything from downing social media or drowning themselves in the rabbit holes of comparison.

Look, we all do it. We all have an ego. We all spend moments in this precious life Edging God Out (thank you Wayne Dyer). When the pain gets to be too much, we instinctively push it away, deny its presence, rationalize it away. We buy, gamble, watch porn, hashtag until our eyes burn from the blue light drilling a fresh migraine into our skulls.

But at some point, the ego’s armor starts to fall away. The whisper: “You’re off track,” grows louder. 

Right now, the Higher Self knows right from wrong. And the chasm between those who heed their soul’s whisper is growing wider. Fear on one side, Faith on the other. The disparity is stark, maddening as life’s pace ever-quickens.

Humanity is standing on that cliff: the space between authenticity and arrogance, between kindness and cruelty, between self-effacement and self-reflection.

Death is all around me these days. This spiritual death carries the stench of denial. 

Watching those I love fall prey to their ego, to being right over being kind is a bit like mourning. There is a great, palpable grief I feel for those who are encased in the false promise of blame and the temporary relief their denial and control grants them.

The Good News

Whether you are clinging to the cliff of Fear or Love, the spiritual death arrives with good news: transformation and transcendence is on its way.

For those steeped in Fear, they will roll their eyes at my words. Humor is often a way to deny our pain. Their soul will only grow louder, wreaking havoc on their peace until they have no choice but to surrender — even if this means a physical death.

The choice to remain or go to Love can feel like a white knuckle clinging these days. I encourage you to keep clinging. Do not trust the illusion of Fears’ family: blame, control, and manipulation. They are weapons meant to take you down and join them. There’s a reason the aphorism, “Misery loves company” exists. Don’t join their company. Take long walks and deep breaths. 

Hope ironically arrived when I chose to no longer have hope that the fear-based loved ones in my life would ever change. 

Before, Hope caused me to outstretch my arms to Fear only to be hurled stones of Manipulation and Blame.

I’m residing fully in Love now and no longer accepting the breadcrumbs of Fear’s cubic zirconia of love. 

Am I in pain? Of course. Mourning? Absolutely. 

But with mourning, your wounds can start to heal. With death, there is now space to heal and grow.

Freedom is agency within — regardless of what the world is doing without.

Know you are on the right path when you align with the whispers of your Highest Self. The spiritual dying of others often causes many a figurative death rattle of blame and an attempt to shame and diminish you.

Their anger is more proof that they prefer to lash out rather than explore the pain in their heart.

Allow the spiritual death of what could never be in your relationship with those steeped in Fear. You’ll notice the white-knuckling to remain in Love will dissipate and, over time (with heaps of self-compassion), you will be standing with both feet in Love, far away from its edge.

The Bad Ass Mother: Make Way for Her

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Inside every woman is a warrior. (Image created using CANVA)

While getting divorced, my lawyer hit on me.

“It gets very lonely at night. You’ll see. You deserve pleasure.”

He took my hand in his. And I removed it, gingerly, as one does walking away from a live, exposed wire.

I was a young mom, caught in the crosshairs of a legal system that gave power to those with deep pockets — regardless of concepts like justice and morality. My lawyer and his pinky ring held the key to the next door of my life.

Looking back, I realize I gave my former lawyer the key. I’d handed it to him on a vulnerable, insecure platter.

We become what we believe.

Life Reflecting Belief

The world is always mirroring to us what we believe about ourselves. Back then, I believed I received the poor treatment from my former lawyer that I deserved.

Boundaries were regularly crossed because I didn’t even think to have them. 

Low self-esteem does that. It creates a world of default assumptions, allowing a person to morph into prey. 

We cannot control the actions others take. But we can have agency for ourselves. Self-esteem builds healthy boundaries. It isn’t frightened to remove a hand from an unprofessional lawyer with highly manicured hands. A woman with strong self esteem is too busy being clear about what she wants to care one cent about the frail ego of another.

The Bad Ass Mother

Hallmark can show all the sappy movies it likes of mother’s being spoiled with breakfast in bed; commercials can advertise all the eye-catching merchandise to “spoil mom.”

 But what about every day of the year? What happens when the sun goes down and it’s status-quo Monday morning?

I am a Bad Ass Mother. I love myself. Really, radically love myself. Even when it’s hard. ESPECIALLY when it’s hard. And I invite you to do the same.

You don’t need to be a mother to mother yourself. You are a part of Mother Nature. You possess all the tools needed to grow your bad ass garden.🪴

Bling is nice. So are vacations. Beautiful clothing. Cars. Flowers. Gourmet meals. But none of it matters a bit without the womb of it all: self esteem.

With strong self esteem, you are naturally going to mother yourself. You won’t take crap from others. You will take steps in the direction of your dreams. You will not settle for breadcrumbs in your personal relationships. You will love yourself for doing things that scare the shit out of you but will allow you to grow. This is cause for a Mother’s Day celebration.

No one is coming to save you because no one else can do the work but you. 

A bad ass mom does what Mel Robbins says:

“Doing what makes you happy, being brave, taking risks, and following your own path will always be more important than other people’s opinions about it. This is YOUR life. Stop allowing what other people think keep you from living it.” Mel Robbins

Join me in being a Bad Ass Mom. Defiantly love every part of yourself — especially the parts you have the most trouble loving. Even the willingness to do so is a huge step.

The greatest relationship you will ever have is the one with YOURSELF. Radically give yourself compassion. Mother yourself like a bad ass. Know you matter.

And you’ll start to notice the world around you will reflect this inner change. That kind of self esteem and self acceptance is both palpable and contagious. It is emotional kryptonite for toxic people.

Transform Fears with Dream Write for Kids

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Dream Write is a children’s book that helps kids of all ages feel empowered to face their fears.

Years ago, I had a recurring nightmare: I was at a college I didn’t know, scheduled to take classes I didn’t recall signing up for, with no money and no means of actually making it to campus.

And while that may sound like a first world problem kind of bad dream, we all know how real a dream feels.

 In fact, how often have we tried to describe a dream to a loved one and have fallen short?😩 Our words don’t quite articulate the feelings experienced in said dream.

experienced in said dream.

The Game Changer

A cognitive psychologist had suggested I write down what I wanted to experience in my dream instead of what woke me up repeatedly filled with angst.

Not wanting to experience another night in waking to a puddle of sweat and a racing heart, I took her advice. I gave myself a brand new Range Rover, put five-hundred bucks in my wallet and chose a school and major that I wanted to study.

That night, I dreamed what I had written down.💡

It Gets Better

The power of our imagination. Dream Write inspires kids (of all ages) to transform their fears. (Photo credit: Bill Megenhardt)

Months later, my son was afraid to go to sleep. As a young child, he was afraid of seeing a grizzly bear attacking him in his dreams.

I’d thought of how my fearful dream had never returned, since the night I changed my dream through words.🤔

“You just need to Dream Write.”

The words were out of my mouth as if from some divine force. Together, we changed his fearful thought of bears into a funny story of a cuddly cub bear who wears a tutu and dangling earrings, replete with red lipstick.💄

To this day, my now grown son uses dream writing to help him transform his imagination to work for, not against him.

Each of us has the power to dream write.✍️

Dream Write Launches

No more scary, grizzly bear. How cute is this cub bear?🧸 (Photo credit: Bill Megenhardt)

My children’s book, Dream Write launched on Amazon late last week. It is a story about the power of our imagination and the power of the magic wand (✏️) we can choose to use each time we feel stuck or fearful.

Dream Write encourages children (of all ages) to discover their own inner power. Through an entertaining story and the cognitive game-changing tool of writing, we are reminded that we always have the agency to choose again. 

Not Just for Kids

The reader can be kids of all ages. This book is a call to action for YOU. (photo credit: Bill Megenhardt)

Dream Write ends with a writing prompt for the reader:

“It’s normal to have scary dreams sometimes. Share a scary dream you’ve had with someone you love. How would you write it differently? If it’s easier, you can write in pictures, too! The key is to change your story to something you want to happen.” Dream Write

Maybe you are considering going for a career change. Dream writing can be used for this as well. Fears — as we well know — are not limited to elementary-aged kids. We all experience them. Dream writing offers an effective tool to transform our fears into wonderful possibility. 

The Day She Snapped

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And what we can do to prevent further meltdowns

Sometimes, it’s the kindest people who experience the harshest meltdowns.

A dear friend of mine is the mother of a teen obsessed with musical theater. For the past decade, despite working full time and having one other kid to raise, her son has participated in community theater that requires my friend to drive far and wide all over New York, often late at night. 

A Window View

The other day, I was on the phone with my friend when her son came into the car from another rehearsal. Here’s how the dialogue went:

Teen: I’m hungry. 

Friend: (handing him string cheese) Here you go.

Teen: No, I want McDonald’s.

Friend: You can get that tomorrow after your PSAT test.

Teen: What the f$%&! No, I’m not taking that. I don’t even need it. I have plans with my girlfriend tomorrow.

Let’s just say, I got off that phone as quickly as possible.

The Backstory

My friend is a single mom. Everything has been on her. As her son was growing, there were several small occasions when her son spoke down to her and my friend placated or ignored the disrespectful behavior.

My friend’s empathy for her son eclipsed her judgement.

For years, my friend would say:

“He doesn’t have a father. I feel so bad for him. I want him to know how loved he is and how much he matters.”

Creating a Monster

Just prior to her son entering the car, my friend confided:

“I snapped the other day. I couldn’t take it anymore. I’ve created a monster.”

All those years of yes-ing her son in an effort to make him feel like he mattered, prevented him from learning respect and appreciating another person’s perspective — in this case, his own mother.

The Snap

We humans tend to snap when there’s been a buildup of tension and frustration. We snap after a long time of undisclosed and/or unaddressed unhappiness or resentment.

Like a zit that’s just come to a head, the snap is a manifestation of pent up emotion that needs to come out.

My friend snapped after her son told her he was going to be changing high schools because it had a better musical theater program. 

There was no discussion; in his 15-year-old-mind, changing high schools was going to happen.

Friend: I will look into the high school program.

Teen: I already know I want to do it. There’s nothing to look into. This is my life, not yours.

On and on this dialogue went until my friend, inevitably snapped:

“You know what? You are a child, a minor. Do you not understand that? You know what, just forget it. You’re going to do what you want anyway. Just do it; just do it! GO — what are you waiting for?! I don’t care anymore. Just do whatever the hell you want.”

And the teen’s response:

“It’s okay. I don’t have to do it.”

The Aftermath of a Snap

My friend felt such guilt for snapping at her son.

“You should have seen the look on his face. He looked so scared of me. I feel awful about it.”

And yet, a day later, her son was cursing up a storm in front of her, sometimes at her. There was no:

  • Thank you for picking me up from theater rehersals.

or

  • Thank you for bringing me a snack.

The Thing About Snaps

Snaps don’t address the core issue (in this case: lacking respect for a parent).

Snaps are nothing more than the surface of an emotional iceberg. 

It’s no wonder her teen returned to dictating what would and wouldn’t happen regarding the PSAT and McDonald’s. The roles in their relationship were never addressed in my friend’s snapping.

Love isn’t a Doormat

Whether married or raising kids solo, parenting is not easy. But loving our kids does not mean letting them run the show. 

We wouldn’t give a kindergartner the key to our car. Yet when we placate our children with blind consent, contorting ourselves to please them, we are effectively putting them in the driver’s seat.

There’s Still Time

I don’t know what transpired between my friend and her son after I hung up the other day. I can only hope she:

  • didn’t get him McDonald’s
  • insisted he take the PSAT
  • is going to look into the new high school and not blindly consent

As long as her son is under her roof and a minor, there’s still time for the roles to alter.

Of course, its’ easy for me to see what’s happening: I’m not in the situation. I’m a mere observer. But I can relate to those moments when a need to demonstrate love to my children eclipsed my better judgement. 

Self-compassion

My friend is trying her best. We are all just trying our best in this life. The word compassion means: to suffer with and take action. 

Self-compassion is looking within, exploring the why behind our respective snaps and doing something about it. Sometimes that means saying no to your kid, even if that no will illicit a temper tantrum.

Better a temper tantrum from our kid now than a giant snap from us later.

Walking on Eggshells?

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When we tiptoe around someone to please them, we hurt ourselves much more in the process.

Intimidations. Threats. Manipulating facts. These are some of the tactics an abuser uses to maintain their control.

I know because I’m on the receiving end of it right now. Have been for over 7 years. It’s only getting worse.

Abusers are often the Sirens found in mythology: they woo their victims until they don’t know what hit them.

I think of a victim of abuse as a lobster in a pot, the heat slowly getting turned up, until they are boiled alive.

If you recognize the pattern I’m about to share with you, I strongly advise you to do whatever you can to get out of that simmering pot.

The Early Years

The love-bombing commences. The romance. The remembering of small details, the overflowing with thoughtfulness. The feeling that you are starring in your own Hallmark movie.

You’ve just entered the pot. The water is warm. It feels so damn good.

Sure, every once in a while the abuser will say something that gives you pause. But you are so in love with this person by now, you rationalize the pause away. You make excuses for some minor controlling behaviors.

The Middle Years

Welcome to life inside the pot that is now starting to feel very steamy.

Still, your Abuser is so good to you. Well, except when they’re not.

As the water starts to simmer, you find yourself feeling a little uncomfortable.

Because you’ve been in the relationship for a fair amount of time at this point, you’ve lost your way. Up is down and down is up.

Being in an abusive relationship is living like Alice down the rabbit hole. Nothing makes sense.

What’s worse, you don’t trust yourself any more. You’ve lost your inner compass, your sense of what’s wrong and right.

Besides, it’s not that hot in the pot. There are even days when it still feels good. So long as you don’t upset the Abuser who put you in the pot in the first place.

Abusers and Eggshells

Eggshells are delicate and can easily break. Abusers are the eggshells. Once we are past the love-bombing phase, it becomes the victim’s unspoken job to ensure they don’t hurt their “delicate” partner.

Well-worn phrases by Abusers are steeped in manipulation and guilt:

  • If you hadn’t done __________, I wouldn’t be in such a bad mood.
  • You are so naive. There’s no way you can do/handle ____________.
  • I treat you like a child because you act like one.

You may be told what clothing you can and cannot wear. What foods you can and cannot eat. You may have a curfew, even though you are an adult.

Again, guilt is a weapon to keep the victim in place:

“I only do this because I care about you, and it’s my job to protect you.”

Freedom’s Price

When I finally realized I was a lobster boiling in that pot, I did everything I could to get out of the relationship.

Abusers don’t like to lose. Especially ones without the capacity for self-reflection.

It’s years since I left my abuser. Years since I had to walk on eggshells in his presence.

Unfortunately, the attacks are still coming. When you have deep pockets and are an abuser, there are creative ways to continue bullying someone.

The price of freedom doesn’t guarantee the end of attacks.

But it sure beats losing your life to a boiling pot.

Freedom Over Eggshells

Looking back, I don’t recognize the woman I was with the Abuser. She was constantly walking on eggshells to please the Abuser.

Walking on Eggshells:

  • never satisfies the abuser
  • only hurts the victim of abuse more

Better to walk on those damn eggshells and be true to yourself.

When you realize that the abuser WANTS their victim to be fearful, guilt-ridden, on-edge, and gaslit, you start to wake up your inner compass.

So crack some eggs, walk with your head held high, embrace your beautiful self.

No, we can’t control what an abuser will do, but we are now free to live life on our terms.

Letting Our Kids Fail

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And the invaluable gifts that arrive when we do

Sometimes, the best parenting involves letting go.

One of my kids is struggling. Struggling to make a decision. Afraid to make the wrong one.

The decision will effect the rest of his life. No one else’s. Not mine. Not his father’s. His life.

Fortunately, the decision is not life threatening.

“What do I do?” he asks me.

Finding Your Voice

We humans learn best through action. Sure, we can preach about what matters, the lessons we’ve learned from life, but ultimately, none of it sticks and penetrates the heart and mind like experiencing it (whatever “it” is) for ourselves.

We find our voice, our inner compass through trial and error.

My son wants me to tell him what to do, to take the stress over making a decision off of his shoulders.

But removing the burden of responsibility and choice from his psyche would thwart his growth in the long run.

The Gift of Biting Your Tongue

Do I have a strong opinion? Absolutely. And when he asks for this, I share it with him. But to advise him is to remove an opportunity for his self-awareness; to shove my opinion as fact upon him is to deprive him of self-discovery.

Much better for me to bite my tongue until I taste blood than navigate and discern the world for my teen.

So instead, I listen.

Cultivating Autonomy

My son struggled with the “what if” of his decision. I listened as he played out each scenario.

I listened.

By the time he was finished, he looked like a balloon that had lost all of its air.

“We can’t control the actions of others or life’s outcomes. We can only control our choices, moment by moment.”

Needless to say, he didn’t like my answer.

Yet, he did make a decision. From my vantage point, the decision is based in fear and steeped in a need for survival.

But it is not my place as a parent of a teenager to tell him what to do. Again, the decision he is making affects him alone and is not life threatening.

Regardless of his decision and my opinion of it, he has taken a closer step in his autonomy. 

There are already consequences of his choice out of fear. It is downright painful to watch. 

But when a toddler falls and cries, we kiss the boo-boo and remind them they can just “get back up.”

When there’s salt in my son’s wound, I comfort him, reminding him that he did the best he could based on what he thought at that time.

Humans are self-correcting creatures. When we allow our kids to self-correct, making adjustments based on new information, independence is fostered.

Cultivating Confidence

The consequences of my son’s decision is offering opportunities for him to make new decisions. Those decisions are continuing to be fear-based.

“I’m in survival mode,” he says.

Okay then. He’s doing what he thinks he has to do. I remind him there’s always another way. 

(Again: No one is in danger, nothing is life threatening and the consequences of his actions affect him alone.)

I can see the self-proclaimed “survival mode” in the tightness of his jaw, the rolling of his eyes if I even hint at broaching the subject. Translation: I know what I’m doing here.

There’s a confidence brimming inside of my son now. He knows he’s supported — simultaneously knowing I’m not in favor of his decision yet respect his choice.

Cultivating Trust

When we surrender to what we can’t control, (i.e. another’s decision), a bridge of trust is built:

  • The trust you foster for your child is returned to you.
  • The trust your child feels from you bolsters inner trust in themselves.

Caveats

I am not promoting trusting your teen to take illegal drugs until they “figure it out” nor am I suggesting a child decide on whether or not to treat a life-threatening condition.

Giving our children a chance to explore what works and doesn’t — while under our guidance — offers them the gift of self-awareness. 

Encouraging autonomy when the stakes are small, allowing them space to “fail” will offer first-hand experience in getting back up on their figurative (or literal) feet.

Behind the Curtain:

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Life Backstage Tells a Different Story

The front row has nothing on the real drama backstage.

The other day I was venting to my sister about pressing financial matters.

“I guess I’ll just be working well into my 70’s.”

“You could be like those older ladies I see at Macy’s. They are at least that age and so adorable working there.”

My sister’s tone was genuine, making the delivery of her words sting that much more.

“Great idea! That’s always what I wanted to do late in life.” My voice dripped with sarcasm.

“I think it would be fun.” 

Now the gloves were off. Like a water hose finally unplugged, I unleashed my anger her way.

“Fun? How can you say that? Why the hell would I want to work at some meaningless job in retail out of necessity in my 70’s?!”

Behind the Curtain of Anger

My sister hadn’t done anything wrong. The anger I unfairly threw her way stemmed from a genuine fear of which her words had, inadvertently, fanned the flames.

Fear is the backstage entity often cloaked in anger. When we aren’t in alignment with ourselves, the slightest comment or action of another can be perceived as salt on a wound.

My sister had genuinely tried to comfort me. She, of course, could only do this from her own vantage point:

“I’d love to have a job like that someday. My career involves so much responsibility. I can’t imagine not working even after I retire, so doing something in retail part time would be fun.”

Wearing Someone Else’s Shoes Hurts

When we look for comfort from someone else, we need to remember that they:

  • only possess their own vantage point
  • are not responsible for the other person’s inner alignment

My sister can hear that I’m experiencing a fiscal crisis, but that is not the same as experiencing it. Likewise, I can hear my sister express her potential enjoyment at working in retail later in life, but I can’t make myself share this sentiment.

Asking someone to feel what you are feeling is like shoving your shoe onto someone else’s foot: it’s not going to fit and can be downright painful.

It’s important to know what you are asking for from that person in the first place. My sister was only sharing her thoughts on the idea of working in her 70’s.

 But I had never been clear about where I was standing: blazing, unfiltered fear.

Say Where You Are

I hadn’t acknowledged the intense fear and instead danced in front of the figurative curtain with haughty anger.

My attitude had been a defiant “Can you believe this bullshit?” but inside, behind the curtain, I was peeing in my pants.

How could we expect anyone to be there for us emotionally if we don’t tell them where we are emotionally?

Spend Time Backstage

After touring the backstage area of my psyche, I got real with the fear. 

When we spend time in the discomfort of fear, acknowledging its presence, and facing it head on, the fear itself dissipates. 

The fiscal situation is still there, but my spiritual awareness of the bigger picture has kicked in, and with it, I know that my health is the most invaluable gift there is and not worth sacrificing to the external (and temporary) reality.

Backstage is where fear likes to lurk; it is a stealthy entity, hiding behind anger. But when we face our fear head-on, peeling back the curtain to the what-ifs that plague our psyches, light pours in, leaving no room for fear to hide.

When Lightning Strikes

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Sometimes it takes a strike of lightning to wake us up.

Last month, lightning struck Washington DC. Four people went under a tree for shelter. Only one survived.

Sole Survivor

Amber Escudero-Kontostathis is twenty-eight and the sole survivor of the Lafayette Square lightning strike. When the summer storm began, Amber and three others went for cover under a tree just north of the White House.

  • Six bolts of lightening struck down where the four were waiting out the storm. Six bolts of lightning within 30 seconds.
  • High school sweethearts, James Mueller (76) and Donna Mueller (75) died from the lightening under that tree.
  • Brooks Lambertson (29) died shortly after from injuries caused by the lightening.
  • Amber Escudero-Kontostathis went 10 minutes without oxygen to her brain and without a heartbeat at all.

Life After Lightening Strikes

Amber lives with the physical sensation of surviving a lightning strike on her body:

Her nerves are misfiring. Her foot will sometimes feel like it is bare in snow. On the worst days, she feels like there are “10,000 grains of salt moving through each pore” of her feet. Source: The New York Times

There is the spiritual component of survival for Anna who frequently awakens to a “feeling similar to a dream of falling, except the thing that jolts her is a glowing ball of light the size of a playground ball speeding toward her face.”

When Amber Escudero-Kontostathis, 28, drifts into a light sleep, she is frequently awakened by a feeling similar to a dream of falling, except the thing that jolts her is a glowing ball of light the size of a playground ball speeding toward her face.

And of course, Anna struggles with the mental anguish that comes from the miracle of surviving something that something that kills approximately 43 people a year.

Amber died on her birthday and was brought back — twice.

“I am not really comfortable being the one,[who survived]but it’s the hand I was dealt, and I am grateful for it, and I am going to make sure I do not let those three people down. I carry them with me in thought and in action every day.”-Amber Escudero-Kontostathis — NY TIMES

Amber’s Lesson for All of Us

Shortly after the August 4th deadly lightening strike, I was picking my son up from school. Thunder crackled and boomed around us as he got in the car, and bolts of lightening kept us company on the drive home.

We drove by a teenaged boy sitting with an umbrella. There were cars behind us. I couldn’t stop. He was sitting under a tree.

“That boy needs to get somewhere inside.” I said.

“Why? He’s protected from the tree,” my son said.

And there it was: a different kind of lightening, for sure. But striking (for me) all the same. I’d assumed my son knew that trees were a fantastic conductor of electricity. After all, he is in his second year of high school and taking rigorous STEM courses. Of course he would know that a tree was the worst place to go for shelter during a thunderstorm.

The Danger of Assumptions

Amber, James, Donna, and Brooks all assumed — like my son that heading under a tree during a thunderstorm brought protection.

It made me wonder: what other things do I assume my son knows?

My son now knows that heading under a tree during a lightening storm is the worst place to go. We talked about the roots of the tree offering a fast conductor for an electrical storm. 

Indoors are the safest places. Cars are safe as well. It’s the metal doors and roof that protect us — not the rubber tires.

The odds of getting struck by lightning in the U.S. in any year is 1 in 700,000. It’s far from common. And maybe that’s why my son made the same assumption Amber, James, Donna, and Brooks did. Maybe that’s why I assumed my son knew how to stay safe during a lightning storm.

Regardless, it makes me wonder: 

  • What other assumptions do I walk around with? 
  • What lessons do I want to impart to my son instead of assuming he already knows them?
  • What assumptions do I walk around with that need to be addressed?

A heartfelt prayer of peace to the August 4th victims of the Washington D.C. lightening strike — both here and on the Other Side.

Are You Easy?

/ Sheri / 2 Comments
Calling all self-proclaimed “people pleasers!” Peace is a direct manifestation of living in alignment with your intuition.

I was twenty-five and had just found my husband dead.

Someone had recommended a therapist for me. I called and the receptionist answered.

“Is this an emergency?”

“Uh, no, no, it’s not an emergency.”

We scheduled a first appointment to see the therapist a good week later.

What We Think Matters

Back then, my inner dialogue went something like this:

I don’t want to make waves. I want to be easy, not a burden for others. This therapist obviously has a lot of patients to see if she can’t see me, a new patient, in the next 24 hours. I’m in terrible pain right now, but I am not bleeding, not on death’s door. I do not have the right to call my situation an emergency, since I’m still alive and breathing on my own. So, I will sit with the pain, shock, and fear I do not know how to process until it is a better time for this recommended therapist to meet with me.

The Balm of Self-Compassion

Writing this now, I want to hug that young woman I was, look her in the eyes and grab her firmly by her hunched shoulders. I write with tears in my eyes, yearning for that young adult to honor her experience and the feelings that were emerging, to explore the pain instead of holding it in her body like a grenade until it was convenient for a therapist to see her.

The Allure of Being Easy

There are many levels and forms of “being easy” for others.

We contort ourselves under the false notion that doing so will help us somehow belong, experience love, and feel worthy. 

The desire to feel a sense of belonging and acceptance is normal; after all, we are social creatures, spiritually wired to connect and even flourish through connection. The problem arrives when we subjugate our own needs to please others.

When our sense of self is inextricably tied to the approval of others, we lose our inner compass. 

We starve ourselves, either physically or spiritually, to feed what we believe others want.

The Most Important Question

The late playwright, George Bernard Shaw is famous for his pithy line:

“Youth is wasted on the young.”

I argue that it doesn’t need to be. You don’t need to be a twenty-five-year-old widow to discover the lesson that you can stop being easy, NOW — regardless of your number of years on Earth.

So, what can we do to help dissipate the often, knee-jerk reaction some of us have to please others at the expense of ourselves?

We can check-in with ourselves. We can cultivate a habit of asking ourselves a simple but profound question: What do I think?

If I could go back to that young adult who had just found her dead husband, I would ask her: What do you think?

She would say:

I am fucking scared! I am broken and lost. I don’t know how one minute, I was sleeping next to my husband, his warm hand on my stomach and now he is dead. I need a therapist NOW; this IS an emergency. My heart, mind, and soul cannot comprehend what just happened. I need someone to process what feels impossible to process NOW.

Easy is Overrated

Easy is overrated. Easy is the Corset of Life: it might look easy and effortless on the outside, but inside, we are slowly losing oxygen. 

Easy doesn’t avoid growth; it just postpones growth.

 The longer we are easy, ignoring what’s under the hood of our psyches, the greater the spiritual repair fee. But make no mistake, there’s a price for Easy.

The Impossibility of Pleasing Others

We will never please everyone, no matter how much we bend over backwards. There’s a comfort in knowing that when we start to please ourselves first, honoring our birthright gut, life actually gets easier.