If You're Lookin' You Ain't Cookin'
Story
After leaving my marriage, I pondered my potentials. Since Colorado had called to my heart since I was eight years old (see the picture below), I decided, after careful deliberation, to make the move West. Colorado always held magic for me, so what better place to heal my heart and re-invent my life?
After leaving my marriage, I pondered my potentials. Since Colorado had called to my heart since I was eight years old (see the picture below), I decided, after careful deliberation, to make the move West. Colorado always held magic for me, so what better place to heal my heart and re-invent my life?
My friend Joe, who participated in the peace project I worked for, had hosted the project director and me during our many visits to the Colorado school and we had become good friends. He told me I might as well move into his house until I got my feet under me. It was a generous offer and I accepted it, as I had much to sort out upon my arrival. Needless-to-say, things did not go as expected.
As many people do after ending a relationship, I tried to run to a new one to ease my hurting heart. The man I ran after ran away from me…to Europe. Then my friendships started falling away, even those in Colorado. You see my choice to evolve had changed me, and the big magnet that once drew me to these people was now pushing us in different directions.
The job I had with the peace project ended. Without my marriage to rely on, I realized money was an extremely scary conundrum and I needed to get manifesting. To prove to all who knew me that I was a phoenix who could rise from the ashes, I started a business that would turn my old passion for art into a paycheck.
This venture was kickstarted when I was invited to a women’s small business gathering at someone’s home. I set my art table up next to the make-up lady and the jewelry-maker in front of the fireplace. The wine was flowing. The women were talking. I was hiding my head and twitching like a wall-flower.
Then a lady pulled me over to the couch and told me she worked at a local university where she taught marketing. She liked my art and asked if I would I like to be her class project for the next semester. She wisely assumed that my squeaky tear-laden response was a 'yes' and informed me that her students would develop different marketing strategies for my company, including logos, color schemes, website designs, and possible next steps. At the end of her class I would leave with a brand and a plan, AND her agreement to work with me to implement it. I was euphoric. Surely, this was proof I was on the right track to success!
Over the next few weeks I prepared my presentation for her students, which brilliantly compared the way artists create art to the way people re-create their lives after trauma. I felt so smart.
Then I learned that a local hospital was soliciting art for a new building. What place would be more perfect to install my art than a hospital? People in the hospital are dealing with all kinds of trauma and life transitions, and my art could inspire renewal! It seemed like fate. I was super excited.
When I arrived at the school to share my presentation with the class, I proposed the hospital venue as a potential market. The students seem to understand the epic importance of my mission and how inspirational it was. I was now excited AND super confident.
Let me add that I brought my favorite painting to show the students, an abstract that portrays creativity and passion, but I dropped it on the sidewalk getting out of the car, shattering the glass. I had to leave it in the car. Hmmm. (You sense what is coming, don't you?)
As many people do after ending a relationship, I tried to run to a new one to ease my hurting heart. The man I ran after ran away from me…to Europe. Then my friendships started falling away, even those in Colorado. You see my choice to evolve had changed me, and the big magnet that once drew me to these people was now pushing us in different directions.
The job I had with the peace project ended. Without my marriage to rely on, I realized money was an extremely scary conundrum and I needed to get manifesting. To prove to all who knew me that I was a phoenix who could rise from the ashes, I started a business that would turn my old passion for art into a paycheck.
This venture was kickstarted when I was invited to a women’s small business gathering at someone’s home. I set my art table up next to the make-up lady and the jewelry-maker in front of the fireplace. The wine was flowing. The women were talking. I was hiding my head and twitching like a wall-flower.
Then a lady pulled me over to the couch and told me she worked at a local university where she taught marketing. She liked my art and asked if I would I like to be her class project for the next semester. She wisely assumed that my squeaky tear-laden response was a 'yes' and informed me that her students would develop different marketing strategies for my company, including logos, color schemes, website designs, and possible next steps. At the end of her class I would leave with a brand and a plan, AND her agreement to work with me to implement it. I was euphoric. Surely, this was proof I was on the right track to success!
Over the next few weeks I prepared my presentation for her students, which brilliantly compared the way artists create art to the way people re-create their lives after trauma. I felt so smart.
Then I learned that a local hospital was soliciting art for a new building. What place would be more perfect to install my art than a hospital? People in the hospital are dealing with all kinds of trauma and life transitions, and my art could inspire renewal! It seemed like fate. I was super excited.
When I arrived at the school to share my presentation with the class, I proposed the hospital venue as a potential market. The students seem to understand the epic importance of my mission and how inspirational it was. I was now excited AND super confident.
Let me add that I brought my favorite painting to show the students, an abstract that portrays creativity and passion, but I dropped it on the sidewalk getting out of the car, shattering the glass. I had to leave it in the car. Hmmm. (You sense what is coming, don't you?)
First the curtain was pulled back on the hospital potential. I went to all the meetings, which were attended by everyone from starving artists to corporate big wigs. Oh, my goodness, the competition and egos! I was reminded of exactly why I stopped my professional art career years ago; but I pushed ahead anyway and submited my proposal to the hospital. Naturally, it was rejected.
At the end of the semester, the class showed me their marketing plans, but I never received copies of their presentations. I managed to track down one of the students on her summer break, got her notes, and re-created a logo on my own. I then whipped together a possible marketing strategy and contacted the teacher who had promised to help me implement it. She was in the midst of a life crisis and was no longer available to help me.
The air in this balloon was now fully deflating and I was starting to feel really scared. I went up into the mountains to cry it all out and I asked for insights. What came back to me was painful.
My higher self said, "You are trying to prove yourself by fixing other people. Since you do not yet recognize your own perfect imperfection, you can't see this in others and you are forcing unnecessary catalysts upon them. And honey, this business idea is just a great distraction that is keeping you from doing your own inner work. The part of you that is pushing to create an impact is the very part of you that needs to be re-imagined. Are you ready now to put everything down, stop trying so hard to be something you aren't supposed to be, and let the real healing happen?"
Oh. Ohhhhhhh.
&%$#@! (sob) (sniffle)
&%$#@&^ #@*&^@#%$#@!!!!
(deep sigh)
*Trembles of terror*
I realized that day (which was Thanksgiving weekend, just to add a bit of ironic humor into the mix), that there was no way out of the reinvention void but through, so I surrendered. After three years of nothingness, I figured the emptiness would be ending soon. It HAD to end soon. Right? Surely something new was about to pop out all sparkly and shiny? Five more years passed and there was still no light at the end of the "what am I going to do with my life" tunnel.
This. Felt. Endless. It was the dark night of my human ego, and in that darkness, my perfectionistic, naive, hopium-addicted fixer/saver was being crushed to bits. I marinaded in this void for more than a decade. Was this what my bright-eyed and busy-tailed, braces-wearing teenage self expected her life to become? This lovely child right here...with all the hope and the pressing need to be seen and to be accepted...was this what she mocked up for her life?
Um…no. Her fantasy was not to be, and for good reason...though I do love that picture. It says so very much. But a funny thing happened as I lost my plan…I was given exactly what I needed.
One of the great gifts of this period (only seen with hind sight of course) was time. I was given boatloads of time to learn to love my messy self and work through the programming that had to be found and unplugged.
I was also given money when I needed it. Never did a day go by that I was in lack. I always had plenty and without any traditional long-term employment. Grace always carried me, I think because I had completely committed to the process.
I also had a safe place to land and to stay as long as necessary thanks to Joe. It was a sweet harvest from the beautiful friendship we had built over the years.
Joe was a professional chef and caterer and he had a saying: If you’re lookin’, you ain’t cookin.’ This means you need to let the oven do its work and keep the damn door closed while it does it. I find this is an accurate description for working with the void. The magic usually happened when I was looking in a different direction entirely and the results were often surprising. Some things didn't work out because they weren't supposed to. Some things seemed to take forever, and poking and pulling at it didn't make it go any faster. Other things came before I felt ready for them, and my evolving relationship with Joe was just one of those things.
One of the great gifts of this period (only seen with hind sight of course) was time. I was given boatloads of time to learn to love my messy self and work through the programming that had to be found and unplugged.
I was also given money when I needed it. Never did a day go by that I was in lack. I always had plenty and without any traditional long-term employment. Grace always carried me, I think because I had completely committed to the process.
I also had a safe place to land and to stay as long as necessary thanks to Joe. It was a sweet harvest from the beautiful friendship we had built over the years.
Joe was a professional chef and caterer and he had a saying: If you’re lookin’, you ain’t cookin.’ This means you need to let the oven do its work and keep the damn door closed while it does it. I find this is an accurate description for working with the void. The magic usually happened when I was looking in a different direction entirely and the results were often surprising. Some things didn't work out because they weren't supposed to. Some things seemed to take forever, and poking and pulling at it didn't make it go any faster. Other things came before I felt ready for them, and my evolving relationship with Joe was just one of those things.
What Happened Next
After my arrival in Colorado, I hid upstairs in Joe's spare room for about four months dealing with the shock and awe and devastating disappointments of the huge reconstruction I had chosen. My naturopath at the time told me to buy myself flowers every week, read good books, take baths, burn candles, and never eat my meals while standing over the sink. I studiously followed her advice. During the summer, Joe finally lured me back into the world with camping trips and playful outdoor adventures, and slowly my life began to open up again.
I had great fun with Joe. It was so easy to be with him and I laughed a lot. He was so different from what I had been attracted to in the past that I didn’t see what was happening between us. Our connection didn’t have the highs and lows or huge magnetic tug of familiar karmic relationships. It was simply sweet.
And did I mention that he happened to look like Sully from Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman? I was always infatuated with Sully when that show was on the air because I had long dreamed of being with a mountain man. In a humorous twist, a friend of mine actually had to point this resemblance out to me because I was so shut down at the time I couldn't see it for myself. Here is a picture of him from several years back. I chuckle just looking at it.
After my arrival in Colorado, I hid upstairs in Joe's spare room for about four months dealing with the shock and awe and devastating disappointments of the huge reconstruction I had chosen. My naturopath at the time told me to buy myself flowers every week, read good books, take baths, burn candles, and never eat my meals while standing over the sink. I studiously followed her advice. During the summer, Joe finally lured me back into the world with camping trips and playful outdoor adventures, and slowly my life began to open up again.
I had great fun with Joe. It was so easy to be with him and I laughed a lot. He was so different from what I had been attracted to in the past that I didn’t see what was happening between us. Our connection didn’t have the highs and lows or huge magnetic tug of familiar karmic relationships. It was simply sweet.
And did I mention that he happened to look like Sully from Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman? I was always infatuated with Sully when that show was on the air because I had long dreamed of being with a mountain man. In a humorous twist, a friend of mine actually had to point this resemblance out to me because I was so shut down at the time I couldn't see it for myself. Here is a picture of him from several years back. I chuckle just looking at it.
To be honest, I didn't see what was right in front of me because I was too afraid to see it and risk our precious friendship. The elephant, however, was getting pretty big in the middle of the living room, derailing my oath to live a life of chastity where I could pout in solitude. I either had to embrace the risk and step into what was unfolding between us, or I would need to move out and find that convent. Eventually, I dredged up my courage and drug the poor boy into the dirt on a camping trip (at the crystal mines in Arkansas no less). It was the best decision ever. When we came back home, I left my cave of solitude and moved downstairs.
We now live together in blissful non-matrimony (no vows ever again, thank you very much), snuggled up in the Colorado mountains. What is truly magical about this union is that we are on the same evolutionary path. It has been a beautiful gift to have a companion who can walk beside me. My soul is wise, even when I am scared and stubborn.
We now live together in blissful non-matrimony (no vows ever again, thank you very much), snuggled up in the Colorado mountains. What is truly magical about this union is that we are on the same evolutionary path. It has been a beautiful gift to have a companion who can walk beside me. My soul is wise, even when I am scared and stubborn.
Insights
Embracing a new life takes a lot of courage. To experience real change in my life, I had to allow real endings to occur at a deep level. Only in this way could I ensure that I wasn't just putting lipstick on the same old pig. My rebirth required death, yet I did not want to acknowledge this because...who wants to die? I had been well-trained to fear death and did not see it as my friend.
An analogy that describes this dilemma well is the evolution of a caterpillar. In his larva form (which is the current developmental state of most of humanity I think), his priority is to plump himself up. He is busy crawling about, eating every tasty leaf he can find. “La la la la la…munch munch munch.” He knows nothing about evolution and what experience awaits him just around the next bush.
Perhaps one day he sees a beautiful butterfly flying in the sky and he thinks, “Wow! That is so cool! I wish I could fly like that.” Maybe he hears stories from other caterpillars, those older wise ones who speak about “the great transition,” but such things are usually ignored by the young. So while our caterpillar friend thinks flight looks pretty cool, he spends his life doing what all the other caterpillars are doing - looking for food and eating it.
Embracing a new life takes a lot of courage. To experience real change in my life, I had to allow real endings to occur at a deep level. Only in this way could I ensure that I wasn't just putting lipstick on the same old pig. My rebirth required death, yet I did not want to acknowledge this because...who wants to die? I had been well-trained to fear death and did not see it as my friend.
An analogy that describes this dilemma well is the evolution of a caterpillar. In his larva form (which is the current developmental state of most of humanity I think), his priority is to plump himself up. He is busy crawling about, eating every tasty leaf he can find. “La la la la la…munch munch munch.” He knows nothing about evolution and what experience awaits him just around the next bush.
Perhaps one day he sees a beautiful butterfly flying in the sky and he thinks, “Wow! That is so cool! I wish I could fly like that.” Maybe he hears stories from other caterpillars, those older wise ones who speak about “the great transition,” but such things are usually ignored by the young. So while our caterpillar friend thinks flight looks pretty cool, he spends his life doing what all the other caterpillars are doing - looking for food and eating it.
Then one day, he experiences a mysterious nudge to go off on his own. Following instinct, he hangs upside down, and encases himself in a chrysalis. Only then, does his fate become apparent, for much to his shock and dismay, he starts dissolving into juice!
I imagine there is a bit of a WTF moment when he realizes his old caterpillar form will not be coming out of this self-made torture chamber intact. Is magic happening? Absolutely. Does the little caterpillar’s brain care about magic at that moment? Um…probably not, as it is going to mush along with the rest of him. He is becoming something unrecognizable…a pool of potential.
As a result of his brave surrender (let’s face it, what other choice did he have?) something called imaginal cells are activated within the goo. These cells carry the blueprint of the butterfly he will become, and as the magical reformation occurs, he must rest in the mystery and wait. Maybe he dreams of flight, but I’m guessing he really has no idea what flight feels like. Surprises are in store, but until they reveal themselves, he is just enduring the process...alone...in the dark.
Those of us experiencing a big life transformation go through just this kind of process. I laughingly thought about titling this series of stories Awakening: Don’t Do It…Really, I Mean It…Unless It’s Already Started (In Which Case You Have No Choice) - but that wasn’t a very sexy title. Finding Freedom seemed a little more hopeful.
I remember the day I was given a head’s up from my higher self about the choices before me and their consequences. After many years of debilitating migraines, I’d reached the point where my suffering was no longer tolerable and I asked my higher wisdom what it would take to free myself from the painful pattern I was in. I was so hopeful when I asked, and so ready to embrace whatever was necessary. I remember exactly where I was when the answer came back to me.
”Freedom is possible,” my higher self said, “but you must experience a death to have it."
"Death? Like death?” I squeaked. “You mean I have to DIE to be free?!!” I could feel panic start to bubble up in my throat.
“Every ending is a death, my dear," said my higher self. “If you want to be free from the old pattern, your life will have to change. What you know will then fall away to create space for the new and this will feel like a death to you. It can be no other way. Freedom will bring new forms, so choose carefully. Be sure."
I made the choice to change that day, and my higher self's prediction came true. Within a few short months, everything in my life began to unravel. This was a really big change. It might have been easier to actually die and come in new, but I was determined to stay alive, so my human life transformed while I was living it. This was rather like having the airplane I was in rebuilt while cruising at 30,000 ft. Turbulent. Scary. Not something anyone with a sane mind would recommend. A total act of faith.
There were many times throughout this process that my caterpillar mind tried to order the deluxe Angelrific Butterfly Wings direct from Amazon so I could just duct tape those suckers on and start flying out of my nightmare. I was scared and I wanted an easy out, but evolution doesn’t work that way. Thank goodness. After making my choice, the plan forward was taken out of my hands.
I remember the day I was given a head’s up from my higher self about the choices before me and their consequences. After many years of debilitating migraines, I’d reached the point where my suffering was no longer tolerable and I asked my higher wisdom what it would take to free myself from the painful pattern I was in. I was so hopeful when I asked, and so ready to embrace whatever was necessary. I remember exactly where I was when the answer came back to me.
”Freedom is possible,” my higher self said, “but you must experience a death to have it."
"Death? Like death?” I squeaked. “You mean I have to DIE to be free?!!” I could feel panic start to bubble up in my throat.
“Every ending is a death, my dear," said my higher self. “If you want to be free from the old pattern, your life will have to change. What you know will then fall away to create space for the new and this will feel like a death to you. It can be no other way. Freedom will bring new forms, so choose carefully. Be sure."
I made the choice to change that day, and my higher self's prediction came true. Within a few short months, everything in my life began to unravel. This was a really big change. It might have been easier to actually die and come in new, but I was determined to stay alive, so my human life transformed while I was living it. This was rather like having the airplane I was in rebuilt while cruising at 30,000 ft. Turbulent. Scary. Not something anyone with a sane mind would recommend. A total act of faith.
There were many times throughout this process that my caterpillar mind tried to order the deluxe Angelrific Butterfly Wings direct from Amazon so I could just duct tape those suckers on and start flying out of my nightmare. I was scared and I wanted an easy out, but evolution doesn’t work that way. Thank goodness. After making my choice, the plan forward was taken out of my hands.
Conclusion
The truth is, if I would have been given control over my liberation, I never would have freed myself. The very thing I valued most about my identity and thought was indispensible to my future was the very thing that had to go! The illusionary characters I'd been playing had to take their final bows. Things I thought were essential were hustled off stage with them.
Since I was rather attached to these things, I didn't celebrate their removal. Nobody wakes up and says, “Oh goody, what shall I have pulled from my grasping fingers today?” The dissolving happened despite me, for me, and it came in waves. Just when I thought, “Ah, I survived the tsunami! I can catch my breath and rebuild,” another round of deconstruction began. I see now that it had to be this way, and that by dragging the whole thing out over a decade I was able to adapt and live to tell the tale.
Chaos Theory describes how one small catalyst can have sweeping effects - the breeze created by a butterfly's flapping wings can create a hurricane on the other side of the world. In a similar way, the simple act of sensing there was more to me than my caterpillar act was enough to stir my imaginal cells to life and put the transformational process in motion.
My new life potentials had such a different vibrational signature, that my old forms had to either fall away or transform to match. If you put new wine in an old wineskin it will burst. Similarly, I needed new forms to hold the energy of a new life. Since those new forms were not discernible at the onset, I had to learn to trust the process.
Trust is much different than hope. I've come to see that hope is actually fear in a prettier costume. Hope is needy. Trust follows intuition without proof in advance of the results that are to come. It surrenders both the outcomes and the timing to a higher wisdom.
When new things finally started arriving at my doorstep, I learned I had to say "yes" and see where the experience would take me, knowing that no matter what happened, everything was in service to my evolution. Chasing what I thought I wanted never worked, but working with what was in front of me, even when it was less than ideal, and being open to future surprises kept me moving forward.
The truth is, if I would have been given control over my liberation, I never would have freed myself. The very thing I valued most about my identity and thought was indispensible to my future was the very thing that had to go! The illusionary characters I'd been playing had to take their final bows. Things I thought were essential were hustled off stage with them.
Since I was rather attached to these things, I didn't celebrate their removal. Nobody wakes up and says, “Oh goody, what shall I have pulled from my grasping fingers today?” The dissolving happened despite me, for me, and it came in waves. Just when I thought, “Ah, I survived the tsunami! I can catch my breath and rebuild,” another round of deconstruction began. I see now that it had to be this way, and that by dragging the whole thing out over a decade I was able to adapt and live to tell the tale.
Chaos Theory describes how one small catalyst can have sweeping effects - the breeze created by a butterfly's flapping wings can create a hurricane on the other side of the world. In a similar way, the simple act of sensing there was more to me than my caterpillar act was enough to stir my imaginal cells to life and put the transformational process in motion.
My new life potentials had such a different vibrational signature, that my old forms had to either fall away or transform to match. If you put new wine in an old wineskin it will burst. Similarly, I needed new forms to hold the energy of a new life. Since those new forms were not discernible at the onset, I had to learn to trust the process.
Trust is much different than hope. I've come to see that hope is actually fear in a prettier costume. Hope is needy. Trust follows intuition without proof in advance of the results that are to come. It surrenders both the outcomes and the timing to a higher wisdom.
When new things finally started arriving at my doorstep, I learned I had to say "yes" and see where the experience would take me, knowing that no matter what happened, everything was in service to my evolution. Chasing what I thought I wanted never worked, but working with what was in front of me, even when it was less than ideal, and being open to future surprises kept me moving forward.
Yes, I experienced episodes of chaotic monkey mind, including bouts of all-out revolt, anger, and terror, followed by depression as the old programming released. I often felt dizzy, dazey, and disoriented, and flat out exhausted. I experienced odd bouts of memory loss, and felt disconnected from everything that used to matter to me. On those days, I learned to keep things simple and take a nap.
When I could finally see from the other side of the portal I'd been pushed through, I discovered that much, if not all of what burdened me could be dropped cold turkey and life would keep evolving on my behalf. What my mind thought was so very important really wasn’t, and if I got spun around by a shocking surprise, I would find myself right where I needed to be.
When I could finally see from the other side of the portal I'd been pushed through, I discovered that much, if not all of what burdened me could be dropped cold turkey and life would keep evolving on my behalf. What my mind thought was so very important really wasn’t, and if I got spun around by a shocking surprise, I would find myself right where I needed to be.
Portal Perspective - Something truly new is always born from emptiness, so to experience that newness
you can’t avoid the void.
Key to Success - Embrace the journey instead of striving for a destination,
and know that graceful progress blooms out of congruence and trust.