Seven good questions.

Open hand over body of water at sunset

When you schedule a Clarity Call with me, I’ll ask you to answer three questions. Many of you tell me that those three questions alone provide you with powerful clarity before we ever begin working together.

1. What’s going on your life that’s causing pain or suffering?

2. What do you want to happen?

3. What obstacle(s) prevent your desired outcome?

Writing is thinking. Just writing down what’s going on, rather than letting it spin and spin in your mind, helps you see patterns and gives you insight into your own heart. Clearly articulating the issue helps us stop avoiding it and begin to give it our attention in a meaningful, healing way. We give ourselves regard and respect when we take the time to write down what’s hurting and where we’re struggling.

The second question comes from author Pam Grout, so long ago I can’t find the reference. These six words are powerful because the only way to have what you want is to know what you want. When you describe what you want in clear words, you’ve already begun to create it. You’ve begun to take your power back.

And question three gives you insight into what’s going on in your mind that’s keeping you stuck. I teach that thoughts create feelings, feelings lead to actions, and actions produce results. When you articulate your obstacles, you see them as either stuff you’ve made up in your mind that isn’t true, or as reality that must be accepted. Either way, you’ll know your next step.

These questions are why just 45 minutes together on a free, no-strings-attached Clarity Call can be life-changing. No kidding.

These next four questions, from psychotherapist and Holocaust survivor Dr. Edith Eger’s The Choice, are the focus of the last session in my three-month Coaching Intensive. They also underpin “Get Your Thing Done.”

1. What do you want?

2. Who wants it? (You, really, or someone else?)

3. What are you going to do about it?

4. When?

Coaching relationships begin and end with questions. Along the way, of course, there are many more questions. Good coaching is rich with good questions.

You might have noticed there’s not one “Why?” question among them. That’s because I find “Why?” questions generally unhelpful in coaching. “Why?” is more a therapist’s territory, which I am not. “Why?” can be a useful question to answer. “Why?” can also keep you stuck when you use it as an excuse not to take necessary action.

“What?” and “How?” are more my jam as a coach, which I most decidedly am. Throw in a little “When?” and we’re really rocking. “What?” and “How?” and the occasional “When?” will move you forward.  

You don’t need me when you answer these questions, although saying something out loud (letting me or someone else “hear you into speech,” to paraphrase bell hooks) leads to greater awareness and greater accountability to our wild heart’s wisdom. There is power in using your voice to articulate your clarity.

Take some time to answer these questions. Answer them in the privacy of your journal, share them with a trusted friend, or talk them through with me. Revisit these questions regularly. Give yourself the gift of listening to yourself. Give yourself regard and respect. I think you’ll find yourself growing and healing as you see and hear yourself ever more clearly.

PS. Subscribe to my weekly letter for the latest news on coaching openings, new offerings, retreats, workshops, classes, and monthly Community Conversations. Thanks!

Photo credit: Billy Pasco on Unsplash.

The Cathedral and the Well.

Bedouin woman crossing the desert

(Act One)  The setting is a desert which, like all deserts, has to be crossed. In the middle of this desert is a well, fed by an underground spring of fresh, loud, rushing water. This particular well is fortunately located just at the point where thirsty pilgrims need refreshment if they are to survive and continue on their way. So in those days news got about that it was relatively safe to cross the desert as long as you listened for the sound of the spring and stopped to drink from the well. Generations of pilgrims were able to cross the desert and head into the wilderness — which is where God’s people were usually traveling.

(Act Two)  Many years later news spread of a building in the middle of the desert, a cathedral of great beauty. Throughout the years pilgrims, when they passed, had dropped stones (some fancier than others) to mark the location of the wellspring, an improvement which they hoped would show their respect for the well. Soon a cathedral stands in the middle of this desert, one stone buttressing another. Pilgrims stop, look up, and admire the cathedral from a distance. Yet most of them are close to death from thirst when they approach. They can neither hear the sounds of rushing water nor see the well, now covered by stones.

(Act Three)  Centuries later, in the same desert, one very thirsty pilgrim dares to approach the cathedral, now overgrown by weeds after years of neglect. She (most late medieval pilgrims were women) notices that a stone is loose. Pulling it out, so that she might replace it correctly, she hears the sound of rushing waters! She rediscovers the well and invites her companions to drink of its life-giving waters. Soon news spreads of the cathedral and of the well. The cathedral was imperfectly built, always standing in need of repair; the well, which stood in its midst, is free-flowing. Future generations of pilgrims, sighting the familiar landmark of the cathedral, draw close to the well, drink of its springs, and live to cross the desert.

If this parable of thirst, courage, and deconstruction speaks to you, here are some possible ways to interact with it.

1. Ponder where in your life the living water flowing from your Source into your soul has perhaps become blocked. Are you requiring certainty before you move? Are you taking literally what was meant metaphorically? Are you resisting the next step on your journey because you feel afraid? Are you trusting external authority at the expense of your own experience? Something else?

2. Use the story as your text for Lectio Divina.

3. Put yourself in the story. Be the thirsty pilgrim crossing the arid desert and approaching the cathedral. Be the thirsty pilgrim pulling aside the loose stone and hearing the sound of water. Hold the stone in your hands. Drink deeply of the cool, living water. What do you hear and feel?

4. If you’d like to chat about what this story may be saying to you, contact me for a free no-strings-attached Clarity Call.

PS. Please subscribe to my weekly letter for the latest on coaching openings, retreats, workshops, free community conversations, and more!

PPS. I’m indebted to Fredrica Harris Thompsett’s We Are Theologians for this beautiful parable.

If you’re a long-time reader and this parable seems familiar, you’re right! This post was originally published several years ago. I’m not sure exactly when. 🙂

Photo by Rubén Bagüés on Unsplash, edited on Canva.

This is it!

Edvard Munch's The Scream
Don’t let this be you!

Just a reminder to blog subscribers: today’s post is the last one you’ll get in your in-box. As you know if you’ve been reading to the bottom of these posts for the past few months, I’ve been in the process of building my weekly newsletter community. If you haven’t been reading to the bottom of my blog posts, I don’t want you to wonder where the heck I’ve gone.

My weekly letter is where I’m sharing fresh content every week, as well as news you can use — retreats, workshops, classes, coaching opportunities, and events like our monthly Community Conversation on Zoom. A newsletter is simply a more powerful way to serve you, my readers and friends.

I’d love to continue the conversation with you over there. Here’s a link to subscribe. And, of course, if you’re super disciplined and just don’t want another newsletter, you can check back here weekly for my latest holy, healing heresy. Posts will show up here, they just won’t be emailed to you.

Thank you, my friends, for being here. I feel privileged to be given space in your head and heart, and I hope very much to see you on my newsletter subscriber list!

~Barb

Image: Edvard Munch’s The Scream

The crucial difference between pain and suffering.

Purple heart-shaped prickly pear leaf

“Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.” This statement drives my clients bananas, and not in a good way.

After giving you three ways and then three more ways crappy theology might be causing you to suffer, I want to be clear about how I understand the difference between suffering and pain.

Many theological, spiritual, life-coachy teachers use them interchangeably. I wish they wouldn’t. There is absolutely nothing redeeming about suffering except that maybe eventually we get tired of it and we learn how not to do it.

Pain, on the other hand, can be the beginning of healing.

Pain is what you feel when you hit your thumb with a hammer—nerves fire and send distress signals to your brain to activate your body’s healing response. Suffering is when you call yourself an idiot because you hit your thumb with a hammer.

Pain is the elemental grief you feel when your mother dies, and you miss her bodily presence in the world. Suffering is the sludge you begin to swim in when you think she shouldn’t have died, or that she did dying wrong.

Pain is what you feel in your knee when bone rubs against bone. Suffering is when you think you shouldn’t have arthritis in your knee, or that you caused the arthritis in your knee, or that people who have arthritic knees are old and useless.

Pain and suffering feel different in your body. Pain opens you up and moves through you, making you bigger in the process. Pain is time-limited. It rises and subsides. Suffering closes you down and shrinks you, and it can hang around for decades, until you finally see it for the choice it is and do the work to release it. (Want to explore this together? Contact me here to schedule.)

Pain is creative and healing. Suffering is victimhood and it will kill you.

Pain opens you up for rebirth, for the next stage, iteration, creation of who you are becoming. Suffering keeps you stuck and stagnant and refusing to ride the holy wheel of change. Too bad, because resistance to change is ultimately futile. Change is the way of the universe, and refusing to go along with the divine program will only cause you to suffer.

Pain is a human response to something outside of us—aging, death, illness, loss, injury. Suffering we do to ourselves.

One Buddhist term for suffering is the “second arrow.” The first arrow strikes us from outside. We shoot the second arrow ourselves, at ourselves.

My dad’s fatal accident and my mom’s too-young cancer death were painful. They came from outside of me and were events over which I had no control. But I caused my own suffering when I made these circumstances mean things about me and about the nature of God. When I made them mean that I was expendable and didn’t deserve love, and that the Universe is capricious and cruel, I was causing myself suffering.

Their deaths were the first arrow. I didn’t know that all I needed to do about their deaths was grieve them. To feel the incredible loss, and to explore the contours of these new holes in my heart. My only job was to feel the pain, and to heal.

What sane alternative do any of us have to events outside our control that cause us such pain? Resisting reality causes suffering. Judging ourselves causes suffering. Shooting that second arrow into ourselves causes suffering.

Go ahead and feel the pain, knowing it will pass. Your heart is big enough, I promise you. 

Pain heals you. Suffering only keeps you in hell.

A few resources:

Here’s Buddhist psychotherapist Dr. Tara Brach on the subject of pain and suffering: https://www.tarabrach.com/the-dance-with-pain/

Practitioners of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) call suffering “dirty pain.” In this Unf*ck Your Brain podcast episode Kara talks about the difference between clean pain and dirty pain, and how to get yourself out of dirty pain. https://unfuckyourbrain.com/clean-v-dirty-pain/

Photo by Sarah Wolfe on Unsplash

PS. My weekly letter is where you’ll find updates for my coaching business – openings, events, and new classes. You can subscribe here. Thanks!

Three more ways crappy theology causes suffering.

Open gate leading to sun-filled meadow

Last week I wrote about three ways I see crappy theology cause suffering for my clients. These lies, taught to us by (usually) well-meaning people, are in there so deep we don’t recognize them as made-up ideas that just aren’t true.

We know they’re not true because they cause us to suffer.

In case you missed it, here are the first three lies.

Lie #1: Jesus died for your sins. On the contrary, God and Jesus aren’t concerned about how you in your wickedness are breaking their rules. What they are concerned about is how much you love yourself, each other, and the world. The only sin is failing to love.

Lie #2: God despises the world and “things of the flesh.” On the contrary, God IS the world. The world is made of God. As the bumper sticker puts it: The Earth is my church. My body is the altar.

Lie #3: God has a plan for your life, and your job is to figure it out and follow it. On the contrary, Creator God is always at work, and all She wants from you is to be the fullest version of yourself you can be, right now, at this moment.

Three more lies:

Lie #4: You need to be perfect, as God is perfect.  On the contrary, beloved, God wants you to be yourself in all your miraculous messiness. God loves your messiness.

The word translated as “perfect” in many versions of the Bible (Matthew 5:48) would be better translated as “whole.” (I like Eugene Peterson’s rendering in The Message: “In a word, what I’m saying is, Grow up. You’re kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you.”)

Being human is messy and unpredictable, and you’re making yourself crazy and miserable when you try to be perfect. As Anne Lamott says: “Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life ….” Be whole instead, beloved. Be whole.

Lie #5: Following your heart and your desires is evil, and being “selfish” is bad. On the contrary, beloved, your desires are holy and necessary. God wants you to want what you want.

When we believe that wanting something is bad, we fight against ourselves and our deepest longings. Instead of honoring our soul’s yearnings, we talk ourselves out of them and we lose ourselves in the process. This is an especially insidious one for women, who are expected to be the caretakers of the world while staffing bake sales, cleaning toilets, and never ever saying NO. (I am NOT saying to act out every desire you have. What I am saying is that every desire has wisdom for you. Honor that wisdom. Listen for it.)

It’s a cliché, I know, and it’s still true: Put on your own oxygen mask first. Only then will you be full enough to give when it’s your turn to give.

Lie #6: God is outside of you, “up there” somewhere, separate from this messy world and its pain. On the contrary, beloved, God is Mother, here with us.

God is not “the man upstairs” or the spirit in the sky. God is not our Father in Heaven. 

When we believe this lie, we make the disembodied sacred and the bodied profane. We make spirit good and flesh bad. We then look outside ourselves for guidance and answers, and we avoid our adult responsibility to listen for the Wisdom within. We’re incapable of giving our gifts freely, because we’ve forgotten who we are.

God your Mother inhabits your everyday moments. She is as common as dirt. And She loves your body like a mother.

Oh, my beloveds. These lies cause so much suffering. They leave us contorted and stuck and so self-critical we’re paralyzed with shame and self-loathing.

You can feel their destructive power when you hold them in your body. Try saying one lie and notice how your body feels. Now say the truth (use my “On the contrary … “ formulation or your own words) and notice how your body feels. Lies cause suffering. Can you feel how you stop suffering when you disbelieve the lies causing you to suffer?

Beloved, you are not called to suffer. Being human on Earth is full of pain. Being human on Earth is full of joy, too.

Please take your suffering seriously. Look underneath your suffering and find the crappy theology causing it. We can do that together if you want to.

Heal crappy theology and you heal yourself.

We need you whole, healthy, and healed. We need you telling the truth. We need you raising your voice in the wilderness so we can find each other.

PS. A deep bow of gratitude to you voices in the wilderness who joined our inaugural Community Conversation on June 17. We were witnesses for each other’s pain and joy, and we formed deep community almost from the first moment. I’m so grateful to meet you “face to face,” and look forward to our next gathering on Tuesday, July 13, at 2:00 pm Pacific. Newsletter subscribers will get the Zoom link the day before. Missed the first one? No worries. You can join anytime.

PPS. I’ll be sending emails only to my weekly letter list beginning on July 1st. Email subscribers will get new content, current offerings, and notifications of upcoming events delivered straight to their inbox. You can subscribe here, and thanks!

Photo by Nikola Knezevic on Unsplash

Is crappy theology causing you to suffer?

Open gate leading to sun-filled meadow

“But what about God??”

Beloveds, I’m hearing this question a lot these days. I hear it from friends, parishioners, and clients.

I hear it most loudly from within myself.

I’ve stopped even remotely trying to fit the round peg of all of me into the square hole of who patriarchal religious tradition says I should be. Since my abstention from church, my relationship with God is fuller. More whole. Healthier. Holier.

I’m not fighting back so much. I’m softer and stronger. I’m more open to the God energy’s yearning to flow into me, through me, and out into the world.

 I’ve even begun using the name “God” again. Although “God” means something/someone very different that it used to mean, for me.

God has many names. There are probably as many names for God as there are humans. We all experience God energy uniquely, because we’re unique.

Other (usually male) people’s theology has supplied us names and labels, and described our experience as good or bad, in or out. Some of us fit nicely into the square holes delineated by the theology we received from our families and culture. Some of us maybe did once but we just don’t anymore. Some of us never did, and we stopped trying long ago.

Becoming an adult means taking responsibility for your own theology. Because your theology underlies everything.

Your theology determines your relationship to your body. Your theology determines how much you trust or don’t trust your desires. Your theology determines every choice you make.

I’m using the word “theology” deliberately. I’m not talking about your spirituality. I’m not talking about your religion. I’m talking about your beliefs about God, period. Your theology is lived out in your spirituality and your religion. Your theology comes first.

Every unhappiness is a result of crappy theology.

Perhaps you believe lies you learned about God. Lies that cause you to suffer.

Lie #1: Jesus died for your sins.

On the contrary, beloved, Jesus doesn’t give a rat’s rooty-poo about sin, and neither does God. God’s only care is for your love for yourself, for others, and for the Earth. When you focus on sin, you focus on what’s wrong with you, on what you don’t deserve, and on how you can prove your worth. Which you never can, by the way. The premise is rotten to the core.

Lie #2: God despises the world and “things of the flesh.”

On the contrary, beloved, God IS creation. God IS your flesh. We are made of God, and God is made of us. We and God are interwoven. You are holy. Your flesh is holy. Your desires are holy. When you believe God doesn’t love your body, you don’t trust your desires and, because you live in a body, you’re never good enough. This self-loathing is quadrupled at least for women, because we live in bodies that change all the dang time.

Lie #3: God has a plan for your life, and your job is to figure it out and follow it. You have to strive mightily for your purpose and meaning.

On the contrary, beloved, Creator God is always at work. This means that who you are, as a member of God’s body, is always changing. Your job is to be the fullest version of yourself you can be in this moment. And then this moment. And now this one, too. Forever and ever until you die, and maybe after. Your job is to ride the wheel of change with trust and joy, grieving what’s dead and fully becoming the new you being born.

I could go on, and I will. Stay tuned.

So notice where you’re suffering. Then look beneath your suffering for the flawed theology causing your suffering. I promise you that it’s there. (Want to look together? Here’s how.)

We need you to do your grown-up theological work, and we need you to share your conclusions with us. When we do this work together, we strengthen each other. We find community. We create a new world, a world closer to God’s dream for Creation. We envision a new future, and together we find the strength and grace to incarnate it.

PS. Our first Community Conversation happens on June 17th at 9:00 am Pacific. Subscribe to my weekly letter for the link.

PPS. I’ll be sending emails only to my weekly letter list beginning on July 1st. Email subscribers will get new content, coaching opportunities, and notifications of upcoming events delivered straight to their inbox. You can subscribe here, and thanks!

Photo by Nikola Knezevic on Unsplash

When your Yes becomes No

Woman sitting on a rocky beach

Do you want to say No to people, situations, and commitments that used to be Yes? You’re not alone. This is a common theme with my clients, especially as we re-emerge from Covid.

These “used to be Yes” items run the gamut from the immense – a marriage, at least in its current form – to the seemingly small – dropping out of a small group or unsubscribing from an email list.     

Why is it so hard for women to honor their new No?

Here are two stuck spots my clients experience. A third, women and our discomfort with our power, is a subject for another newsletter!

1. You feel afraid of hurting someone’s feelings. Fear of hurting someone’s feelings is actually just avoiding conflict. Underneath the avoidance of conflict is the belief that your own desires and priorities aren’t as important as the perceived desires and priorities of the person whose feelings you’re afraid of hurting. And this belief you have, that your desires and priorities aren’t as important as other people’s desires and priorities, is bullshit perpetrated on you and other women by the patriarchy. (See last week’s newsletter for more about trusting your desires.)

2. You feel afraid of the emptiness and openness created when, not knowing what might emerge to take its place, you honor your No. This fear of unknowing, of emptiness and openness, is actually the belief that you can’t trust yourself, your desires and your priorities. And your lack of trust in yourself is actually a fundamental misunderstanding of God’s nature and your connection to It.

We’ve been trained to believe in a linear, patriarchal, masculine, capitalist model that we’re one and done. That the goal of life is to figure out what we’re supposed to do, go do it, and then maintain this state, kicking and screaming if necessary, until we die. That there’s one correct answer and our job is to figure it out. Get it right or die trying.

This false, toxic model underlies that question we ask kids: What do you want to be when you grow up?

This false, toxic model also underlies the questions we ask ourselves as adults: What’s my purpose? What’s my calling? Who did God create me to be?

Beloved, this is NOT how Creator works. The God who is constantly making all things new asks us very different questions: Who am I called to be right now? How can I respond most fully and joyfully to this moment?

The answers to those questions almost certainly aren’t what they were ten years ago, ten days ago, or even ten minutes ago.

Creation and the force continually creating it, aka God, is always birthing, dying, and being reborn. Always. As members of that matrix, inextricably entwined in this holy cycle, we are born, we die, and we are born again. Over and over and over.

No is as holy and as necessary as Yes, when your No is rooted in your soul. Listen to your No. Trust your knowing. Trust your desires. Trust God to be at work in you, continually creating you, continually making you new.

PS. I share news, dates for upcoming free Zoom conversations (our first one is June 17th!), and coaching opportunities through my weekly newsletter. You can subscribe here.

Photo by The Humantra on Unsplash