<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<!-- generator="wordpress/2.0.3" -->
<rss version="2.0" 
	xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"
	xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/"
	xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"
	>

<channel>
	<title>I Love Nelson</title>
	<link>http://ilovenelson.com</link>
	<description>Nelson Community Portal Website</description>
	<pubDate>Mon, 21 May 2012 07:06:03 +0000</pubDate>
	<generator>http://wordpress.org/?v=2.0.3</generator>
	<language>en</language>
			<item>
		<title>Stranger Connection</title>
		<link>http://ilovenelson.com/stranger-connection</link>
		<comments>http://ilovenelson.com/stranger-connection#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 08 Dec 2011 14:05:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ericbowers</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Rhymes with Compassion</category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ilovenelson.com/stranger-connection</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[As I wrote several posts ago, I often get very inspired when trail running or hiking.  Ideas come to me that I get excited about, but the excitement doesn&#8217;t often carry into my day-to-day life.  About a month ago I decided to see if I could change that.  I wanted to see if I could [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>As I wrote several posts ago, I often get very inspired when trail running or hiking.  Ideas come to me that I get excited about, but the excitement doesn&#8217;t often carry into my day-to-day life.  About a month ago I decided to see if I could change that.  I wanted to see if I could expand my window of tolerance for aliveness and inspiration during my day-to-day life by following through on some of the ideas that come to me while trail running.<br />
The first idea that I decided to try out was to meet at least one stranger a day and ask him or her what is most important to him or her.  While running through the freshness and beauty of the forest, this idea was uplifting:  I would meet lots of people, learn a lot about myself and others, and have an urban adventure to write about.  Back in the city, amongst the glass and glitter, jackhammers and horns, and throngs of strangers (many glued to cell phones), the idea felt more awkward than exciting.  Nonetheless, I took a leap and launched my Stranger Connection experiment.<br />
The response has been quite varied.  In three weeks I&#8217;ve asked or tried to ask over thirty different strangers what is most important to them.  I&#8217;ve talked to strangers from Iran, Singapore, China, France, the Caribbean, the US, and Canada.  Complete strangers have told me what is most important to them, including answers like family, health, Jesus, love, the world, music, travel, God, the sun, following dreams, just living, justice for all, and more.<br />
Not surprisingly, not everyone I approached was happy to have a total stranger greet them and ask them such a personal question.  Despite my efforts to be warm and friendly, some didn&#8217;t answer at all and looked very uncomfortable and on the verge of bolting.  When I got this kind of response, I would acknowledge that it was an awkward and unusual thing I was doing, but my acknowledging that didn&#8217;t seem to help.  So I would apologize and relieve them of the encounter.  However, more than a few strangers have opened up and shared quite easily, not just about what is most important to them but also about their lives.   Those who continued chatting with me almost invariably began telling me about their families: a sister back in Iran with cancer, two sons who made being a father a dream come true, children who had come to Canada and then sponsored the person I was talking to (no longer a stranger, now a new friend) to join them here, and so on.<br />
Eventually, I gave up.  I enjoyed the connections with strangers who opened up, but I couldn&#8217;t expand my window of tolerance for facing the awkward meetings and was feeling more and more reluctant to keep trying.  Sometimes I wandered up and down Robson Street or circled around intersections trying to build up my courage and find a friendly-looking stranger.<br />
I believe the main problem was that my approach to meeting strangers was too much of a stretch for my window of tolerance and for the windows of tolerance of many of the strangers I attempted to meet.  My approach to meeting strangers was to go up to them, say &#8220;excuse me,&#8221; and then ask them if I could ask them a question.  If they said &#8220;yes&#8221; I would then ask them what is most important to them in life.  In the beginning I loved the idea of initiating a memorable event that might get people thinking more about what is important to them (I&#8217;m a sucker for quirky boldness).  But the awkwardness wore me down.<br />
The good news is that I have regrouped and found a new approach that is working much better for me.  Since implementing my new approach I have had two very enjoyable experiences.  One was with a stranger from France who, when he was nine years old, knew he wanted to move to Canada and work in the film industry.  A week prior to my meeting him he had moved to Canada to take a job in special effects in the film industry.  He told me that what is most important to him is to know what you want.  The second stranger I met told me that what is most important to him is to know what is right for him in any given moment.  On a whim I then asked him what he wished wasn&#8217;t important to him, adding that I wasn&#8217;t attached to his answering the question.  He replied that he wished he wouldn&#8217;t get swayed by what others thought was right.<br />
Stay tuned for more blog posts about my Stranger Connection experiment or follow along on Twitter http://twitter.com/#!/strangerconnect<br />
Read on if you&#8217;re interested in more information about windows of tolerance.<br />
We all have a window of tolerance for the amount or intensity of feeling-painful or pleasurable-we can experience before our amygdalas (the part of our limbic system in our brains that is most interested in survival and acceptance) activate the fight/flight or freeze vagal nerves.  When we go into fight/flight, our jaw, face, throat, chest, and stomach become tense; our heart rate and blood pressure increase; and we feel some flavour of fear or anger.  When we go into freeze, our face freezes and our bodies collapse and go numb; our heart rate and blood pressure decreases; and we feel hopelessness, shame, and confusion.  The more activated the amygdala gets, the further we go into fight/flight or freeze and the stronger the emotions and body reactions will be.<br />
As babies and children our windows of tolerance are increased by having parents and primary care givers who can attune with us when we are upset or excited, reflect back our experience, and regulate their own emotions.  If the parents or care givers are not able to stay present with our experience and they become upset or pull away or try to shut down our feelings in some way, it&#8217;s a sign that they have left their window of tolerance and have gone to some degree into fight/flight or freeze.  Children cope with this loss of connection by holding back their feelings and shrinking their aliveness so that their windows of tolerance match those of their parents.  This is because attunement with parents is built into our biology for survival.<br />
I believe all parents are doing their best, given the trauma and loss of connection from their upbringing.  If parents and care givers can get the support they need to heal their past experiences, they can expand their windows of tolerance for feelings and then stay more present with their upset or excited children allowing them to expand their windows of tolerance.  If parents don&#8217;t get the support they need, all is far from lost.  Our brains are neuroplastic, which means that we can continue healing and expanding our windows of tolerance throughout our lives.<br />
The above information on windows of tolerance is from my informal study of Interpersonal Neurobiology.  For more information about Interpersonal Neurobiology look for the work of Bonnie Badenoch, Daniel Siegel and Louis Cozolino.  For more about the Vagal Nerve look for the work of Stephen Porges.  If you have other sources to recommend, please do so below.<br />
&#8220;If you&#8217;re not stretching your comfort zone, you might miss out on some hidden treasures.  If you stretch it too far, you might miss out on some hidden treasures.&#8221;
</p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRSS>http://ilovenelson.com/stranger-connection/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Freedom Training</title>
		<link>http://ilovenelson.com/freedom-training</link>
		<comments>http://ilovenelson.com/freedom-training#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 15 Jun 2010 21:52:50 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ericbowers</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Rhymes with Compassion</category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ilovenelson.com/freedom-training</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I&#8217;m walking through downtown Vancouver-Robson St, Burrard St, Granville St-streams of traffic and crowds of unfamiliar faces.  It&#8217;s eight o&#8217;clock on a Friday night and the last of the daylight is filtering through clouds and polishing skyscraper glass.  My guitar is slung over my shoulder, a fold-up stool in my hand.  I&#8217;ve decided to do [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I&#8217;m walking through downtown Vancouver-Robson St, Burrard St, Granville St-streams of traffic and crowds of unfamiliar faces.  It&#8217;s eight o&#8217;clock on a Friday night and the last of the daylight is filtering through clouds and polishing skyscraper glass.  My guitar is slung over my shoulder, a fold-up stool in my hand.  I&#8217;ve decided to do some busking as part of my new freedom-through-embracing-fear experiment.  My plan is to embrace smaller fears whenever possible so that I can build up my fear-fitness for the bigger ones.</p>
<p>Busking is not a huge fear for me, but I&#8217;m not comfortable with it either.  It&#8217;s been over fifteen years since I&#8217;ve busked and I&#8217;m feeling a little shy.  This is a what-will-they-think-of-me fear; particularly, what will those who know or recognize me think of me.  Will they think I&#8217;m destitute?  (Wait a minute, I am almost destitute!)  Fortunately, I know next to know one in downtown Vancouver (or unfortunately, if I was ready to embrace the fear of being recognized while busking).  One of the benefits of large cities is greater anonymity, although it&#8217;s potentially a lonely benefit.  Then again, my songs are downright precious to me, and a huge part of playing them is making a connection with those listening.  So I&#8217;ve got a nice little inner conflict going-I don&#8217;t want to stand out, but do want to make a connection.  I walk past several perfectly good busking spots as I sort out the thinking that is creating my discomfort.  Then I hear a guitar ringing out as I walk along Granville and I am emboldened by the connection I feel to the musician.</p>
<p>I finally find a spot on Robson St, one of the glitziest parts of Vancouver.  Robson seems like the perfect street to be noticed but not noticed.  Once I set up my stool and pull out my guitar it doesn&#8217;t take me long to get into the joy of playing.  As so often is the case, it&#8217;s just the starting that is the hard part.  I&#8217;m happy to report that I played and sang most of my heart out (I had forgotten my capo so some of the songs I had to play in a key that doesn&#8217;t work well for my voice).   However, my competition was formidable: busses hissing and roaring, stereos booming-boom chu, boom chu, boom chu-cell phones cell phoning, and bright lights and flashy stuff flashing.  Several blocks down from me a mime, with every part of his suit and skin painted completely in gold, was bringing down the house.   And here there I was, playing my funky folk songs on a classical guitar in desperate need of amplification.  Maybe I&#8217;ll paint myself gold next time and plug in.</p>
<p>I was succeeding much more at being not noticed than at being noticed until a gentleman with a huge Canada flag on the end of a pole came along.  He parked himself ten feet in front of me and seemed to be listening.  Uplifted by my audience member, albeit and excessively patriotic one, I put a little extra heart into my voice and twang in my fingers.  And gal dern it if he didn&#8217;t walk over, drop a Loonie in my case, and say, &#8220;keep it up.&#8221;  As I watched him leave, I noticed that the leaf on the flag was not a maple leaf; it was a marijuana leaf.<br />
One other person threw a Twonie in my guitar case as he walked by, which brought my total for the evening to a Threenie.  I think I&#8217;m ready for a more exposed busking spot, or maybe I&#8217;ll move on to other fears.  My sense is that, once I start paying closer attention, I&#8217;ll find that there is no shortage of fears to embrace.  For example, I have some discomfort about strolling through the eastside of downtown Vancouver, one of the poorest neighbourhoods in Canada, and one of the worst for drugs and HIV.  I&#8217;d like to visit a shelter and a safe-injection site.  That journey will be more than just my moving through fears.  It will also involve my expanding my capacity for compassion and connection.  It&#8217;s one thing to believe that we are all one, or that the Divine is in everything, it&#8217;s another thing to find it where I don&#8217;t want to look.  Speaking of which, there is my fear of trying to meet with the CEO of the Royal Bank to see how he feels about arm wrestling over my credit card debt.  Stayed tuned to see how that goes.
</p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRSS>http://ilovenelson.com/freedom-training/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Liminal and Leaving</title>
		<link>http://ilovenelson.com/liminal-and-leaving</link>
		<comments>http://ilovenelson.com/liminal-and-leaving#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 14 Apr 2010 12:46:30 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ericbowers</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Rhymes with Compassion</category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ilovenelson.com/liminal-and-leaving</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;The big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure.&#8221; ~ Joseph Campbell
Nelson is a difficult town for me to leave behind.  In so many ways Nelson embodies creativity, community, communion, and so much else of what I love.  Last week I peeled myself away from her embrace, [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>&#8220;The big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure.&#8221; ~ Joseph Campbell</p>
<p>Nelson is a difficult town for me to leave behind.  In so many ways Nelson embodies creativity, community, communion, and so much else of what I love.  Last week I peeled myself away from her embrace, three weeks later than I had planned to leave, and headed back out on the road.  It was especially difficult because I can’t say for sure when I will be back.</p>
<p>I had thought I would return to Nelson in a month or two.  However, things shifted for me when I took part in a shamanic ceremony in which I was shown the door to the unknown and invited to take a large step through.  I was given a strong reminder that moving towards the unknown can be a wildly enlivening and magical journey, and, of course, a scary one too.  Breath and presence.  Presence and breath.  When I forget breath and presence and try to figure out how it will work, the energy of the unknown gets squeezed out by the constriction of control.</p>
<p>At one point in my shamanic journey, I saw myself leaving immediately towards the unknown - in the opposite direction that I had planned to go - south, out of Canada and into the U.S.  I had no clear strategies for how I would financially support myself in the U.S. and fear welled up.  And why wouldn’t it?  Aren’t we taught over and over to buy and build up the trappings of security; the more of them we have the less illusory security seems and the more we can convince ourselves that we are in control.  And so I breathed, breathed as deeply as I could.  Then I took another breath, stretching up and back in order to let in as much air as possible.</p>
<p>I breathed my way down to the fear, not to change it or fix it, just to be with it.  Fear and I stared at each other through the darkness.  And then fear laughed.  It could not believe I wasn’t there to try and convince it of anything.  Fear couldn’t help but be intrigued by the spaciousness of being.  As I sat there breathing a remarkable thing happened.  Fear took a breath, stretched its arms out, and transformed into a yoga instructor-princess.  She winked at me, lifted herself into a handstand, and set off into the unknown.  What could I do but follow.</p>
<p>But here I am, still in Canada, back in the north, in Haida Gwaii as I write this.  Seagulls are calling each other as the first light of day comes over the inlet that I can see through my window.  Rain joins the song.  The wind rushes in excited about the day.  All was so dark and still only moments ago.</p>
<p>It was too much for me to drop everything at once and leap right in to the unknown.  I continue to slip back and forth between the me that wants to know and the me that is willing to not know.  And I breathe as much as I can.  I don’t know if it works to negotiate with the unknown, but I tried, and I’m still trying.  I decided to complete workshops and engagements I had committed to and then&#8230;  Then I’ll see how well I’m breathing.  I can’t deny the taste of full aliveness that I had during my shamanic journey, and that aliveness is where I am committed to keep opening towards.<br />
Years ago, while traveling in Central America, I took a ferry from the mainland of Honduras to the Caribbean Island Roatan.  The waters were rough and I barely managed to hold down my breakfast; many others were not as lucky.  I sat there inside the boat with a roomful of green faces, enduring the crashing, roller coaster ride and the smell of vomit.  Then a young man came into the room from the outside deck.  His eyes were wide with joy and a wet smile was on his face.   He stood open and invigorated, completely in contrast to the huddled mass of the rest of us.  I can’t remember exactly what he said, but it was something like, “Come outside!  It’s incredible!  I don’t feel sick at all out there.”  That I didn’t follow his inspired advice is testament to how much I can fear the unknown and hold onto the familiar, even when it smells bad and saps my vitality.</p>
<p>Last summer when I was here on Haida Gwaii, I ran on the beach, directly into a gale of a wind. Together the wind and I celebrated the adventure of life.  The wind is blowing again, but it’s colder now and raining. I could stay inside, warm a dry with the companionship of my computer.  Or I can answer the call of wild aliveness.</p>
<p>From the road, Eric
</p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRSS>http://ilovenelson.com/liminal-and-leaving/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>A Lesson In Pain</title>
		<link>http://ilovenelson.com/a-lesson-in-pain</link>
		<comments>http://ilovenelson.com/a-lesson-in-pain#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 31 Mar 2010 12:46:13 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ericbowers</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Rhymes with Compassion</category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ilovenelson.com/a-lesson-in-pain</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;When we allow ourselves to compassionately be with the fullness of our pain, connected to the beauty of life in the pain, we become vehicles for spirit and not obstructions to it.&#8221;  -Robert Gonzales
A Lesson In Pain
[From my following description the training with Albert at the Original Yin Qi Gong Gym in Vancouver may seem [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>&#8220;When we allow ourselves to compassionately be with the fullness of our pain, connected to the beauty of life in the pain, we become vehicles for spirit and not obstructions to it.&#8221;  -Robert Gonzales</p>
<p><strong>A Lesson In Pain</strong><br />
[From my following description the training with Albert at the Original Yin Qi Gong Gym in Vancouver may seem unorthodox, comical, and even frightening.   Compared to most types of body work and training it is.  However, I want to emphasize that the training is also very effective.  And, although I am still undecided about some of Albert’s approach, I have a great deal of respect for Albert’s skill, knowledge, and commitment to supporting healing and vitality for those he works with.  And the results speak for themselves.  I have heard of more than one story of someone recovering from a very serious injury or condition, including crippling back problems, to the point where one would not know that this person had ever had the injury or condition.  Indeed, I have seen the remarkable results with my own eyes.]</p>
<p>“Eric, I will stretch you now.”<br />
I pretend I don’t hear Albert.  His style of stretching is not my idea of a good time; that is to say, I’m scared.  My eyes are closed and I’m whirling and flying around in random circles on the Gyro apparatus.  The Gyro is a fun workout; getting stretched by Albert is a lesson in pain.  So I keep my eyes closed and hope in vain that Albert will go onto someone else in the room.</p>
<p>“Eric, I will stretch you now,” Albert repeats, only slightly louder.  Conceding to my fate, I let the Gyro  come to a stop and dismount.</p>
<p>Albert has learned a type of stretching from his master (a master that remains mysterious to me) that releases blocked energy, opens up the chest, diaphragm, and core muscles, all of which greatly enhances healing and strengthening for the body, or so Albert tells us.  (I think he learned this stretching from his master.  He may have developed it partly on wholly on his own.)  Basically, the stretching brings a new standard to the maxim, “No pain, no gain.”  It’s torture, and when I’m in the thick of it, I hate it and want it to end.  I’d like to think I could get to a place where I love and embrace the pain, but I’m doubtful; that place seems far, far away.  At the same time I want to be stretched because it feels so good, after it’s over.  Furthermore, I am noticing improvements in my body.  My neck and shoulders haven’t been this loose for a long time, my posture is improving, and my left hip muscles are actually considering something other than clenching together as if life depended on not letting go.</p>
<p>Often there are four or five of us training on machines in the gym while one of us is getting stretched by Albert.  From a quantum awareness of our shared field of energy, Albert does his best to keep the mood light and relaxed with jokes and dialogue so that the rest of us don’t tense up while listening to the cries and gasps of the victim/the one being stretched.    Sometimes Albert will mention that he could have stretched someone deeper if others in the room had not tensed up as they did.  Other times, when someone has gone particularly deep, Albert will mention how the work done by that person has benefitted all of us in the room.  When I know my turn to be stretched is coming, I can get anxious from imagining what is to come.  I force a smile on my face, focus on my breath, and start thinking of all the blessings in my life.  Apparently, the brain doesn’t know the difference between genuine smiles or fake ones, the same neurotransmitters get fired either way.  My personal experience seems to validate this research as I sometimes manage to find my way to a place of peace.</p>
<p>When Albert stretches me, and I don’t think I can stand the pain any longer, I get angry and let loose guttural growls and roaring cries.  I attempt to love the pain and consciously enter into it, but usually anger takes over.  So I try to love the anger.  These angry outbursts sometimes seem to travel forward from periods of my past during which I felt overwhelmed and powerless.   I had forgotten what an angry boy I could be.  Albert and I joke that my expressions of anger are not what one might expect to hear from someone with the label Nonviolent Communication Trainer.  Releasing this old anger will certainly free up more energy for peace and compassion.  And my body feels so much better after the stretching, more loose and aligned, and I can breathe like nobody’s business.  However, I’m not sure that the growling and howling is the best way as I’m often left feeling drained.  I work towards getting beneath the anger to the deeper emotional releases (the stretching bench is often a mess of sweat, saliva, and tears when I’m done).  An expansive peace greets me when I get to the tears, and I breathe big breaths with floppy exhales.</p>
<p>Albert’s stretching is focussed on the shoulders and the hips.  He tells us it is based on martial arts, and I believe him as he puts us in positions where he could easily do some serious damage.  We are usually stretched lying face down with Albert sitting at the bottom of the spine on the sacrum.  In order to stretch a shoulder, he gets us to lift an arm backwards and upwards.  He likes to tap the arm and say, “Up, up, up, up,” the pitch of his voice rising with each up.  The hand of our upraised arm gets tucked beside his neck and then he uses his body weight to apply more upward or sideways pressure.  With his free hands he “massages” (see: digs into) tight spots.  Sometimes he will take the arm, bend it at the elbow, and move it to the upper back like a police officer apprehending a suspect would.  Then he might dig his thumb into a bicep.  He seems to have limitless knowledge of painful places.</p>
<p>When it’s time for the hips, Albert gets us to lift a leg backwards and upwards while still lying face down.  Again, he will tap a leg and instruct, “Up, up, up, up.”  Albert places the leg, just above the knee, on his shoulder.  Then he bends the knee down, puts a hand on the hip, and stretches the leg forward towards the head.  The quadriceps and psoas are the muscles that get stretched.  These are large muscles that do a lot of work and are much more familiar and comfortable with bending in the exact opposite direction.  I try to tell mine that the more we fight it, the more painful it will be, but they don’t believe me.</p>
<p>Stretching both shoulders and both hips takes somewhere around twenty minutes; a twenty minutes that is just shy of eternity.  It is a relatively short part of our six hour day of training, but it takes a tremendous amount of energy to endure that much pain.  Albert stretched me like this for four days in a row last week.  I tried my best to stay with it, but I was completely wiped by the end, the anger draining me as much or more than the pain.  Now here I am again for another four days, and I’m really not sure that I have the energy to survive the stretching and still do the other training.  (I’m trying to make the most of my time in Vancouver, which is why I’m training approx. six hours a day.  However, it is up to each person how many hours a day he or she chooses to train.  Also, there is a three-hour break between the morning and afternoon sessions during which I often nap.  And, much of the other training involves lying in different body-opening/aligning positions which can be quite restful.)  My sense is that we need to slow down. As usual, Albert is tuned in and, before I say anything, he informs me that we need to do stretching that is gentler until I build up more strength.  Music to my ears.</p>
<p>A couple of days later I’m lying face down on the floor, and Albert is sitting on my sacrum facing towards my feet.  “Up, up, up, up,” he says while tapping on both legs.  I gamely lift both legs and he takes my ankles and tucks them under his underarms so that my feet are sticking out behind him towards my head.  This isn’t too bad.  I’ve done this kind of bow-type pose in yoga many times.  Then he leans backwards onto my back, which puts his weight over my diaphragm and lungs.  The stretch is still manageable, but the breathing isn’t.  I imagine that barely being able to breathe is somehow an important part of this stretch, important in some way I don’t yet understand.  I breathe with the shortest of gasps for as long as I can.  Then Albert starts to gently bounce.  I would laugh if I could breathe.  Instead I cough out a large gasp and Albert lets me go.</p>
<p>Then Albert turns around so he is sitting on my sacrum facing my head.  I’m still lying face down.  I lift my upper body after the standard up, up, etc.  Albert grabs on, not onto my shoulders, or my chest, or even my head; he clasps his hands around my throat and pulls into another bow-type pose.  In all my years of yoga the breath was emphasized like few other parts of the practice; Albert-style stretching ain’t yoga.  This stretching seems to have more emphasis on facing pain and fear, which is congruent with this period of my life, so I’m going with it:  Pain and fear are part of the terrain one would expect to find in journey to the unknown.</p>
<p>I stretch back and slowly rasp out my breath through my squeezing-closed throat as Albert pulls further and further back.  Believe it or not, this stretching is more gentle, less painful, than the stretching that focuses on one shoulder or one hip at a time.  Right now, I’m happy to trade in some of the pain for most of my breath.</p>
<p>&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;<br />
From the previous week:<br />
I’m lying on my stomach expressing something between a growl and a scream.  Albert has got my leg on his shoulder so I’m stretched like a bow.  It’s all I can do to manage the pain in my hip and quadriceps.  I want it to end, but Albert takes it up another notch.  I cry out and almost ask him to stop.  As if reading my mind, which I suspect Albert might actually be capable of, Albert calmly says his trademark line, “You will survive.”  I know I will survive, at least I’m pretty sure, and I know how incredible it will feel afterwards, so I hang in there.   Albert let’s up slightly and asks me, “What’s your P.I.N. number?”  I’m baffled by this question.  Why would Albert want to know my P.I.N. number, and which P.I.N number does he want?   And why ask me now when my mind is focussed on survival?  Is he trying to be helpful by distracting me from the pain?  Is he asking me to trust him with a P.I.N. number because this is the level of trust required for this level of healing work?  It strikes me as bizarre and then humourous, and all I can manage is to answer with a few chuckles.  Then I realize that with his accented English he is asking for my pain number, as in the level of pain from one to ten that I’m experiencing.  I’m grateful for his accent as it has given me much needed moments of distraction from the torture.<br />
Walking to my van at the end of the day, I can’t get over the mobility in my hip.  The very familiar gripping tightness is gone.  I don’t know how long it will last, but right now I’m celebrating the freedom I feel in each step.
</p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRSS>http://ilovenelson.com/a-lesson-in-pain/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Busy Being Born</title>
		<link>http://ilovenelson.com/busy-being-born</link>
		<comments>http://ilovenelson.com/busy-being-born#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 24 Mar 2010 12:46:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ericbowers</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Rhymes with Compassion</category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ilovenelson.com/busy-being-born</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Bob Dylan once wrote in a song, “That he not busy being born is busy dying.”   After considering that line for some time, I decided to get clear for myself what it means to me to be busy being born.
Imagine contemplating leaving the comfort, safety, and warmth of the womb - pushing through a passageway [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Bob Dylan once wrote in a song, “That he not busy being born is busy dying.”   After considering that line for some time, I decided to get clear for myself what it means to me to be busy being born.</p>
<p>Imagine contemplating leaving the comfort, safety, and warmth of the womb - pushing through a passageway that seems far too tight so that you can enter into an endless world of unknown.  Of course some part of you realizes that you have become too big for the womb; the only way to continue growing is to push and squeeze through.  In fact, as warm and safe as the womb has been, you instinctually realize you would die if you remain there.</p>
<p>We begin our lives with a leap towards the unknown, towards growth, and towards connection and contribution-we want to make a difference in the world.   Therefore, for me, the unknown, growth (in every sense of the word), connection and contribution are four key aspects of being born.  There are probably other aspects I will uncover, but these four have more than enough terrain to explore for now.</p>
<p>Busy dying might simply be seen as the forgetting or denying of our instinct to move towards the unknown, to grow, and to contribute.</p>
<p>Practicing moving towards the unknown, we can get better and better at it until we are ready to handle the big unknowns.</p>
<p>Can we get better at being born, at moving towards the unknown, until we become comfortable or excited about not knowing and learn to skilfully find our way through the tight spots?  Why not?  A practice like any other, although some unknowns .  If we practice with the smaller unknowns and work our way to the bigger ones, then our death, the physical death of our bodies, can be another exciting movement of being born.  The questions that comes to me now is how can we practice being with the unknown – fodder for a future blog post.</p>
<p>After writing the above paragraphs, I came across a piece of writing from John O’Donahue titled The Question Holds The Lantern in the November, 2009 issue of The Sun magazine, pg 37.  Just the title alone speaks powerfully to me.  I would love to quote the entire piece, but I will keep it to two excerpts, the first from midway through the piece, the second finishes the piece:</p>
<p>When your soul awakens, you begin to truly inherit your life.  You leave the kingdom of fake  surfaces, repetitive talk, and weary roles and slip deeper into the true adventure of who you are  and who you are called to become.  The greatest friend of the soul is the unknown.  Yet we are afraid of the unknown because it lies outside our vision and our control.  We avoid it by filtering  it through our protective barriers of domestication and control.  The normal way never leads   home.</p>
<p>The journey shows you that from this inner dedication you can reconstruct your own values  and actions.  You develop from your own self-compassion a great compassion for others.  You  are no longer caught in the false game of judgement, comparison, and assumption.  More naked  now than ever, you begin to feel truly alive.  You begin to trust the music of your own soul; you have inherited treasure that no one will ever be able to take from you.  At the deepest level,  this adventure of growth is in fact a transfigurative conversation with your own death.  And when the time comes for you to leave, the view from your deathbed will show a life of growth   that gladdens the heart and takes away all fear.</p>
<p>I love the idea that our journey of growth, as O’Donahue describes it, is a transfigurative conversation with your own death.  It’s like having a person in your life that you detest but can’t avoid, like a colleague or neighbour.  Somehow, either through persistent effort or perhaps through a shared crisis, you find kindness for this person, you come to see yourself in this person, and the two of you end up the closest of friends.</p>
<p>Certainly we all have our traumas and wounds to heal, but how much of our anxieties and addictions and conflicts with others are in some part because we are not having our conversations with death?</p>
<p>I wonder if John O’Donahue and Bob Dylan ever swapped inspiring lines and got busy being born together before John O’Donahue passed away.</p>
<p>Eric
</p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRSS>http://ilovenelson.com/busy-being-born/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>The Fear of Love</title>
		<link>http://ilovenelson.com/the-fear-of-love</link>
		<comments>http://ilovenelson.com/the-fear-of-love#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 17 Mar 2010 12:45:24 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ericbowers</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Rhymes with Compassion</category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ilovenelson.com/the-fear-of-love</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[There isn&#8217;t anything in this world but mad love. Not in this world. No tame love, calm love, mild love, no so-so love. And, of course, no reasonable love. Also, there are a hundred paths through this world that are easier than loving. But who wants easier?  Mary Oliver
Another inspiring person I met last year [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>There isn&#8217;t anything in this world but mad love. Not in this world. No tame love, calm love, mild love, no so-so love. And, of course, no reasonable love. Also, there are a hundred paths through this world that are easier than loving. But who wants easier?  Mary Oliver</p>
<p>Another inspiring person I met last year was a woman who told me of her experience of looking for a life-partner; I’ll call her Rose.  Rose had done what she needed to do to mourn and leave behind her last relationship and felt ready to enter again into intimate partnership.  She decided to try internet dating and made an agreement with herself to say yes to every man who asked her on a date.  Over 30 men asked her out for a date.  Keeping her agreement, Rose went out with all of them even though none of them seemed like a match from their internet dating profiles.  Sure enough, approximately 30 times Rose ended the dates by saying something to the effect of, “I don’t think we are a match.”</p>
<p>Then a different kind of fella found Rose on the internet dating site.  After looking at his profile, Rose felt hopeful.  Did they hit it off?  Oh yes, profoundly.  I’d like to end the story here by simply celebrating her ability to stay true to herself and to remain strong enough to keep saying no until she found someone with whom she felt a big YES.  And I do celebrate these things very much.  But the story doesn’t end here.<br />
A slow and gentle courtship with her new love led to a deepening bond between them that culminated in a night of divine union.  The next morning Rose’s love left with plans for meeting again soon.  But they did not meet again as planned.  Instead, Rose got an email from her love telling her that he could not see her again because he was too afraid of losing her.</p>
<p>When Rose told me this story my first thought was, “Isn’t it interesting that he chose to lose her because he was too afraid of losing her.”   Then I thought that of course love sometimes doesn’t make sense, and I thought of how sometimes the thing we want the most we fear the most.  What was most inspiring to me was that Rose did not express a tirade of judgements about this man, nor did she pour out a soliloquy of poor me.  Instead, she felt deeply into her loss and then told me how she needed to get to the bottom of what his actions and fear was reflecting in her, what part of her was afraid of a profound bond of love.  I was given the gift of witnessing her raw but empowered expression of the heart breaking open.</p>
<p>And now here I am falling deeply in love, taking a large step back into the land of cannot comprehend, experiencing tidal waves of love and joy flushing through me, and groping for something to grasp on to as some deep fears stir below.  With some sputtering and floundering I have managed to navigate my way through the fears by going into my experience and then sharing it openly with my love, Shantih.  Thanks to this sharing and to the exquisite acceptance and presence I experienced from Shantih, the fears have settled for now and the love continues to deepen.  My intention is to continue to stay open and authentic as much as I am able, and to keep asking for the empathic presence that lends itself so divinely to this intention.  Wish me courage to keep opening.
</p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRSS>http://ilovenelson.com/the-fear-of-love/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Free Range Chicken Torture Chamber</title>
		<link>http://ilovenelson.com/free-range-chicken-torture-chamber</link>
		<comments>http://ilovenelson.com/free-range-chicken-torture-chamber#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 11 Mar 2010 12:43:40 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ericbowers</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Rhymes with Compassion</category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ilovenelson.com/free-range-chicken-torture-chamber</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[“Big chest. Big chest. Big che-est!”
I’m lying supine on a modified gym machine, arms splayed out to either side, legs held in a bent position by a sling and pillows.  No, I’m not involved in some kinky, sexual adventure.  Nor am I trying to simulate the experience of giving birth.  I’m trying to relax my [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>“Big chest. Big chest. Big che-est!”</p>
<p>I’m lying supine on a modified gym machine, arms splayed out to either side, legs held in a bent position by a sling and pillows.  No, I’m not involved in some kinky, sexual adventure.  Nor am I trying to simulate the experience of giving birth.  I’m trying to relax my shoulders and torso so that I can breathe better.  Who would have thought it would be so hard to breathe.  I’m not talking about just breathing in and out to survive; I’m talking full diaphragm, chest-lifting-and-expanding breathing.  (As I write this I can hear Albert’s voice [Albert is the trainer/practitioner] encouraging me to breathe into a big chest and into my diaphragm.  In fact, I’ve just now straightened my posture and puffed up my torso, such is the lasting impact of Albert’s training.)  I’m finding it difficult to keep a regular rhythm of deep breathing while lying down.  I feel like going to sleep.  Albert instructs me to breathe like I’m yawning, and I do so while picking up my pace.</p>
<p>I thought my journey into the unknown would lead me on a journey somewhere south, and it still might.  For now it has taken me to Albert’s Original Yin Qi Gong Gym.  Perhaps I am avoiding the frightening leap into the unknown that I sensed in my shamanic journey; although, Albert’s work is scary enough for now.  My sense is that I need to get my vitality in order in order to do whatever work I’m going to do.  So, whether I’m avoiding my fears or listening accurately to my intuition, I am here in Vancouver to spend a focussed month of healing and strengthening with Albert.<br />
Albert is the owner and trainer/practitioner of Original Yin.  He has a Ph.D. in computer science, training in acupuncture and traditional Chinese medicine, and training with a mysterious (to me at least) master from whom he learned other Chinese healing arts.</p>
<p>Albert likes to call his gym a Free Range Chicken Torture Chamber because he is helping us grow – grow  in the sense of growing our muscles and of coming back into full vitality – by twisting, stretching, spinning, opening, and cooking us so that we can have free range of breath, movement, and energy.  “I help you grow as fast as possible, just like chickens,” Albert likes to say with a teasing, sing-song tone in his sometimes-hard-to-comprehend Taiwanese accent.  He does this with his hands but much more with his specially adapted gym equipment.  Albert has added slings, springs, pads, pillows, and heat lamps to high-end gym equipment in order to get them to do the work.  Don’t come to Albert planning to analyze your physical and emotional problems, he will tell you to let the machines do the work.  And my, oh my, do they ever do the work.  The exercises are rarely vigorous.  More often the exercises involve slow and seemingly subtle movements.  Or they involve no movement at all, simply lying for long periods of time in positions designed to open the body.  But the work, that is to say the pain, often goes to deep places.<br />
I have not posted a blog for a while because I’m finding the training at Original Yin leaves me spent.  I’m trying to make the most of my time here, so I’m at the gym from 9am to 12pm and 3pm to 6-6:30pm. Albert encourages us to get plenty of rest, “Train, eat, sleep.  Train, eat, sleep.”  I am happy to oblige.  However, this training is like nothing I’ve experienced before and I’m inspired by it, so I do plan/hope to blog more.  Stay tuned for my post on the martial arts-based “stretching” that Albert performs on us – in one word: Ow.
</p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRSS>http://ilovenelson.com/free-range-chicken-torture-chamber/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>It Takes A Community</title>
		<link>http://ilovenelson.com/it-takes-a-community-to-raise-a-relationship</link>
		<comments>http://ilovenelson.com/it-takes-a-community-to-raise-a-relationship#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 17 Feb 2010 12:04:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ericbowers</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Rhymes with Compassion</category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ilovenelson.com/it-takes-a-community-to-raise-a-relationship</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[  
It Takes a Community to Raise a Relationship
 &#8221;For thousands of years we have gathered in circle - around fires, around bodies, around altars - because we can&#8217;t do this alone.&#8221;  - Wayne Muller
  
Thirty-four of us are packed into infinite darkness and penetrating heat. Water is generously poured over red-hot rocks and [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;     Normal   0                         MicrosoftInternetExplorer4   --><!--[if !mso]&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;  st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) }  --> <!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --> <!--[if gte mso 10]&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;   /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman";}  --><!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;   --><!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;       --></p>
<p align="center"><strong><u>It Takes a Community to Raise a Relationship</u></strong></p>
<p><strong /> &#8221;For thousands of years we have gathered in circle - around fires, around bodies, around altars - because we can&#8217;t do this alone.&#8221;  - Wayne Muller<br />
<!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;     Normal   0                         MicrosoftInternetExplorer4   --><!--[if !mso]&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;  st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) }  --> <!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --> <!--[if gte mso 10]&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;   /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman";}  --></p>
<p>Thirty-four of us are packed into infinite darkness and penetrating heat. Water is generously poured over red-hot rocks and the steam pushes me deeper into my hidden places.  This is the third and hottest of four rounds in this sweat lodge ceremony.  I feel pain rising.  There is healing that I need for the blocks that come up in relationship with my beloved, and I’m here to receive support for that healing.  Some of the others in the lodge I know well; many I haven’t met before.  Nonetheless, in the sweltering blackness of this lodge, in our shared intentions and inward focus, we are an intimately connected community.  My body shakes and my breathing quickens as I begin to cry.  I call out for help and something about this simple act opens up a deeper mourning.  I can feel the sadness in this old pain that I carry from my past, pain that blocks me from being free to love.  I can also feel this pain as pressure in my head, the beginning of a mean migraine.  Under different circumstances I might not have the courage to embrace and express this pain and ask for help.  In this moment, held by this community with acceptance, compassion, and by a shared intention to support healing, any beliefs I hold about what I should look or act like lose their grip. My pain begins to dissolve in the waves of my feelings and the pressure in my head begins to release.  After the ceremony there is new energy stirring and growing in me and mixing with the vestiges of fear that are still releasing.  I have a mild headache that will be gone by the morning, and a sense that the next phase of my journey with my beloved is unfolding.</p>
<p>In intimate relationships, we express our highest intentions of love and most painful wounds from our past.  We join in unbounded ecstatic union and push apart in contracted anger and fear.  A commitment towards ever expanding conscious loving is no small undertaking.  There are several key elements that help my wife Melody and I navigate all that arises in our relationship and create an inspiring, loving partnership.  Some of these elements include a flow of appreciation, transparent honesty, shared responsibility, commitment to growth, and support from others.  Why do we need support from others, what might it look like, and what blocks us from asking for support from others are the questions I will explore below.</p>
<p>Why do we need support from others?  When we join in relationships, we co-create a system within which we exchange energy through how we relate to each other.  I have found it helpful to look at how energy exchange works in other systems and apply it to human systems.  The study of systems in thermal dynamics shows that closed systems stagnate or lose energy.  Closed systems are systems that are cut off from their surrounding environment and so do not receive energy from outside their system.  Human relationships can be open or closed systems, and my experience is that closed human systems also lose energy. The more intimate and consistent the connection between two people, the more often and more intensely core issues tend to be stimulated.   How we work with the core issues that come up in relationships will determine if our systems gain or lose energy.  Attempting to work through all that gets stimulated in a closed system -without support from others - usually leads loss of energy through demands, blaming, and criticism.  When this happens, the flow of genuine giving disintegrates and vital energy is lost through reactive emotional patterns.  Melody and I have successfully worked together to transform the old pain that arises between us, but sometimes we have worked against each other and lost energy and connection trying to work with issues that have arisen. When we are working against each other, it is either because we’ve become unconsciously stuck in old fears about not getting our needs met, or we don’t have the resources to be present with what is arising.  When we relate to each other from old patterns, or when we try to push through when we don’t have the resources, we don’t transform our pain.  Instead we lose energy, and we may reinforce our negative beliefs about intimate relationship and withdraw from each other.  Receiving support from others to transform our issues and old pain fuels us so that we can have more fun together and better give to each other from a place of fullness within.</p>
<p>What might outside support look like?  Often, when we are not successful at transforming what arises, one or both of us needs a caring empathic presence.  It is not possible to give a one-way flow of supportive empathy to another if we need empathy for ourselves.  (This one-way flow of supportive empathy is what I wrote about in a previous article: <em>Presence With Pain: The Art of Empathy</em>.) However, when we are aware that we both need empathy, we can save our energy by asking others who are not involved in our situation to help us.</p>
<p>Last fall was a stressful time for Melody and me.  We had moved out of our house so that a mold problem could be remedied with some major renovations. During the renovations a carbon monoxide leak was discovered.  Also, it was a busier than usual time for our business, including extra travel to other communities.  To top is off our health was not at its best due to the mold and the carbon monoxide leak we had been living with.  Stressful periods can be times when old issues are more likely to surface, which can mean a greater need for supportive empathy and less energy available for giving to others.  Furthermore, during stressful times it can be more challenging to be aware of what is arising and how we are relating to what is getting stimulated.  Our relationship, our human system, was under stress and we needed outside support.</p>
<p>On a Saturday morning, near the end of our stressful period, I finally connected with support from outside our relationship.  An empathy buddy was willing to call me from Mexico, even after two long days of travel from Australia.  Despite his jet lag, he gave me such a clear and compassionate quality of supportive empathy that I released feelings I didn’t even know I had been holding onto.  After the call I was lighter and more relaxed than I had been for weeks, and I had more energy and desire to give to Melody. Sometimes our conflicts are less about the content and more about the fact that both of us need supportive empathy - our system needs to open up to energy from others.</p>
<p>What blocks us from asking for support?  From the consciousness of Compassionate Communication (Nonviolent Communication, NVC), everything we are doing is an attempt to meet a need.  Also, our unconscious beliefs often influence the way we try to meet our needs.  I may have beliefs that if I can’t work through pain that arises, then I am either not strong enough, not good enough, not smart enough, or not loving enough.  Underneath these beliefs are my needs for self-acceptance, self-worth, and contribution. Without awareness of how my beliefs are influencing me, I push ahead instead of finding other ways to meet my needs.</p>
<p>Another of my beliefs may be that if I ask for support, then others will think less of me, not accept me, and then I will not belong.  Therefore, in trying to belong in my community, I may try to do things on my own instead of ask for support.  The irony is that the sense of belonging usually strengthens when we allow others to give to us.  Others experience the joy from meaningful contribution and perhaps more freedom from their beliefs involved in not asking for support. My experience is that when I authentically express myself with consciousness and compassion, even when I believe others will think less of me, my sense of self-acceptance and self-worth strengthens if I stay connected to my needs and the needs of others. Each time I have the courage to do this, I gain more strength and courage to stay open and authentic about the state of my needs.   When I act from authenticity instead of from my beliefs, I also serve the connection in my relationship.</p>
<p>Sharing an intimate journey of transformation and love tends to come with seemingly cosmic synchronicities. It just so happened that without our planning it, an hour and a half away from the sweat lodge, Melody was being held with tender loving by new friends.  With tears flowing, she released layers of the pain from hiding her true light and from trying to be something else in order to be loved.  The next morning we came together and shared our journeys, the depths of our insights, and the beauty of our love.  We then met with a trusted friend who, in sharing her wisdom and empathic presence, gave us more support towards greater ease and love in our partnership.</p>
<p>My hope is that we all open up to receiving more support no matter what our relationships look like.  We are not meant to be closed systems doing it all on our own.  Life thrives in a flow of interconnectedness where we receive so much from giving and give so much from receiving.</p>
<p>Eric Bowers and Melody Greger
</p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRSS>http://ilovenelson.com/it-takes-a-community-to-raise-a-relationship/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Separating In Connection</title>
		<link>http://ilovenelson.com/separating-in-connection</link>
		<comments>http://ilovenelson.com/separating-in-connection#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 06 Jan 2010 18:16:11 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ericbowers</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Rhymes with Compassion</category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ilovenelson.com/separating-in-connection</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[  The following is a transcription of a dialogue between Shayla Wright, Eric Bowers, and Melody Greger.  It has been edited for easier reading.
Shayla: My name is Shayla Wright.  I’m a teacher and a coach, and I’ve worked with a lot with couples in the last ten years.  I’m here today with Eric Bowers [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;     Normal   0               false   false   false      EN-CA   X-NONE   X-NONE                                                     MicrosoftInternetExplorer4                                                   --><!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   --><!--[if !mso]&gt;  st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) }  --> <!--  /* Font Definitions */  @font-face 	{font-family:"Cambria Math"; 	panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; 	mso-font-charset:1; 	mso-generic-font-family:roman; 	mso-font-format:other; 	mso-font-pitch:variable; 	mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;}  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-unhide:no; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:EN-US; 	mso-fareast-language:EN-US;} p 	{mso-style-unhide:no; 	mso-margin-top-alt:auto; 	margin-right:0cm; 	mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; 	margin-left:0cm; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:EN-US; 	mso-fareast-language:EN-US;} .MsoChpDefault 	{mso-style-type:export-only; 	mso-default-props:yes; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; 	mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;} @page Section1 	{size:612.0pt 792.0pt; 	margin:27.0pt 27.0pt 27.0pt 36.0pt; 	mso-header-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --> <!--[if gte mso 10]&gt;   /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}  --><strong><u></u></strong>The following is a transcription of a dialogue between Shayla Wright, Eric Bowers, and Melody Greger.  It has been edited for easier reading.</p>
<p>Shayla: My name is Shayla Wright.  I’m a teacher and a coach, and I’ve worked with a lot with couples in the last ten years.  I’m here today with Eric Bowers and Melody Greger who are two dear friends of mine.  I’m here to talk to them about a recent experience they passed through where they made a transition from being in an intimate relationship to being good friends.  We’re going to explore that whole transition because, in my experience, the way that it unfolded was very, very beautiful. I feel like there is a lot to learn about how it all happened.  Eric and Melody are both Nonviolent Communication Teachers and Trainers and Melody is also a Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapist.</p>
<p>I wanted to start off by giving both of you a chance to say what comes up in you, what’s your first thought or response to this experience that you’ve had.  Would you like to start Eric?</p>
<p>Eric:  Well, the very first thing that comes is gratitude and healing: gratitude for the healing I’ve experienced in transitioning from partnership and marriage with Melody to a place of sweet friendship, warm, connected and loving friendship.  And gratitude for the support I’ve received from Melody, from my community, and from the NVC (Nonviolent Communication) process to transition in a peaceful and supportive way.</p>
<p>Shayla: That’s great.  And how about you Melody, what is the basic feeling of where you are now?</p>
<p>Melody:  One of the things that stand out is also a lot of gratitude, especially for the sense of love expanding through this experience.  I’m grateful for being able to explore what would be most loving for both of us, what would be of most service for our paths, for our lives, and allowing that to be the letting go of being a couple.  And I’m grateful for being able to see each other in such a deep way, beyond wanting each other to be in the role of intimate partner.</p>
<p>Shayla:  Thank you.  I’m remembering when we did your ceremony.  We had a beautiful ceremony with Melody and Eric in the summer out in the Slocan  Valley.  They invited their circle of community to be with them as they said goodbye to each other and acknowledged all that they had received.  And I’m remembering that our dear friend David Mackenzie spoke on that day about how touched he was by what he felt was the possibility for collective evolution from what you were displaying. I really felt very much the same way.  And so for me there was this question in my heart going on the whole time that I witnessed this process, which was, “How are they doing it like this?”  Because all of my training, especially in neuroscience - the understanding of our limbic nature, our emotional brain - is that once we form those kinds of attachments in intimate relationship, the untangling process is difficult and often brings up a lot of grief and anger and all sorts of things.  And I know that you both felt grief, but the way that you held it and the way that you were with each other was very, very different.  So, I’d like to hear you Melody, first of all.  Just speak to us about how that happened for you.</p>
<p>Melody:  Through this process, I’ve been doing some more exploration and reading around attachment theory and our primary bonds.  I’ve found that the way that we’ve been able to stay in connection, to go beyond blaming each other or seeing the other person as the cause of our experience, and stay in relatedness with one another, has actually been deeply healing for me.  It has been healing of those primary relationship bonds with my parents in terms of the issues that have been there (for me) around their separation and experience of disconnection.  Eric and I were able to continue to stay in dialogue and I continued to share really transparently what was arising for me moment to moment as we went through different phases of this transition.  We had a mutual willingness to be open to each other’s transparency and a mutual, deep commitment to take full responsibility for what it is that we were experiencing, instead of making it about the other person.  It was an opportunity to see what our dynamic has reflected for us around the root issues from our primary relationships with our parents. As we’ve brought our awareness to the fact that our dynamic is a reflection of those issues from our primary relationships and not something to blame each other for, there’s been a dissolving of the intensity of those old patterns. I really appreciate continuing to experience a bond between us.  It has shifted and it has changed form, but the continuing of the bond is part of what has been so healing for me.</p>
<p>Shayla:  What comes up for me is that I know that is a principle of Nonviolent Communication.  That’s also a principle in almost everything:  I am not ultimately responsible for your experience, and you are not responsible for mine.  And it’s funny, as a coach and teacher over the last 35 years of working with people, whenever I’ve asked anybody, “If you really are totally honest with yourself, do you think that   your experience is caused by another person?”  And, whenever anyone is that honest they always say to me, “No, it can’t be.”  But, to know that cognitively is different from being able to live it.  So that’s what I’m curious about.  Is it partly the NVC training?  What do you think it is that enabled you to embody that principle?</p>
<p>Eric:  I would say the NVC training has been very helpful.  And I see that Melody and I have a very strong commitment to what she is talking about – taking responsibility and bringing awareness to what’s going on in ourselves, not blaming others.  That’s not to say that those things didn’t happen.  Those unconscious patterns did come up during our transition, but we were, as we’ve been throughout our NVC training and practice, committed to returning to that place of taking responsibility.  We were also committed to seeing each other as doing our best to meet our needs.  So, it’s coming back to what we are committed to each time the old patterns arise.</p>
<p>Shayla:  It makes me think of what they point to in neuroscience these days, which is that our limbic nature, our emotional nature, all it really needs is connection.  It’s so simple.  And then that’s also, on a deeper, more spiritual level, the same principle.  That is that presence heals everything.</p>
<p>Eric:  I want to add to that because that is the foundation of the NVC practice.  It’s about connection.  I say that all the time.  The thing is I think a lot of us have pretty clear associations with the word connection and what that might look like, especially in a relationship.  For me, this was the deepest practice of holding this quality of connection without being attached to what it looks like.  In fact, now, we would both say very clearly that we are still in connection; it just looks a lot different.  Part of the suffering I had in myself was being attached to it looking like us being a couple, a married couple, and so on.  When I finally did the work to get free of that and just come back to connection then that freed things up and allowed us to transition staying connected, in whatever form it looked like.  It didn’t always look like physically together and often it did.  It was just that commitment to staying in connection.</p>
<p>Shayla:  You know it makes me also see that even though we can say that I am responsible only for my experience, there’s also this amazing thing about how, whenever we’re in connection with someone, whenever we’re contacting them, we co-create a whole field of consciousness.  So, as I was listening to you I was realizing that, if both people are really committed to not blaming or judging, then it creates a totally different field of consciousness, and vice versa.  Because if one person starts to judge or blame, then it’s so easy for the other one to close down even a little bit, get defended, and then it bounces back and forth.  Whereas, if I know that you are as committed as I am in that way, then I can really let go of a lot my defenses.  Then there is more and more and more openness possible.</p>
<p>Eric:  For me, connection also includes the fact that I care about the other, whoever it is.  I may or may not be able to do what they want, and quite often I can’t (or I may not agree with their actions and behaviours).  That doesn’t take away the fact that I care.  Particularly, in my NVC practice, it means that I care about your needs and what you’re feeling around your needs.  I don’t necessarily care about your thoughts and your beliefs and your attachments to outcomes, but I do care.  That’s a huge practice for me around being able to really express that and live that while still not taking responsibility for the other person.</p>
<p>Shayla:  Yeah, that’s amazing.  What were you going to say Melody?</p>
<p>Melody:  Around the time when we came to this clear choice around letting go of being a couple&#8230;well, I have this image in my mind of the lightness in my being that I felt.  I’m trying to find words to describe my experience around that.  Part of it was, on some level, disengaging from the back-and-forth of those unconscious patterns that looped into each other, and having this wide perspective and oversight of them. I was able to see them more clearly and be less absorbed in them and then feel the love that was there more clearly, feel the gratitude for all that we did together and the gifts that we gave each other, and the beauty of that.  I also come back into myself in a deeper way and had space for that.  It seemed that, around that point, our paths were starting to go in different directions.  It seemed like, this is my perception, on some level both of us were called to come into our own, our own being, our own path, in a deeper way.  It started to become clearer and clearer that, to serve our calling in the best way, it would be serving to let go of trying to be a couple.  So, as we did that, the support that started to come for each other was so much freer.  It was like there was something freed up.  I remember this joyous exploration around what we were going to do in our lives.</p>
<p>Shayla:  And it happened quite quickly for you.  It didn’t take months.  It was pretty surprising.</p>
<p>Melody:  Yeah, I would say within a week of really coming to a clear choice together, that all these things started to move and shift.</p>
<p>Shayla:  Yeah, and you did speak of a feeling of movement, a lot of movement.  Well, when you described it just now and you said that you were able to have a much bigger perspective of the actual patterning that you had both been engaged in without full consciousness, and then there was this deeper awareness of the love, that speaks to me of a movement in your own awareness where the seeing actually in some way released you from those patterns.</p>
<p>Eric:  I’d like to speak about some of the things I’ve learned, the deepest learning I’ve received out of being in partnership with you Melody and from what led to us separating as a couple.  I’ll start with the concept of needs in NVC, which are, at least the way I relate to them, abstract qualities inside of us that are flavours of our wholeness, of our love energy.  They are flavours of our life energy, love energy, that are trying to move us forward in the world to grow, to contribute, to connect, to celebrate life.  It’s very different from the way a lot people might think of the word need, which is around lack, neediness, and weakness.  For me, it’s quite the opposite.  Needs are places of wholeness and empowerment.</p>
<p>I didn’t have a practice of NVC when I met Melody.  I started it soon after we met.  I didn’t really grasp that concept of needs until, I mean, I’m still trying to grasp (live) it.  Really, that is the deepest part of the practice, to connect to needs in that way and know that my needs are always fulfilled, always whole, always alive and well in me.  My conditioned mind tries to convince me otherwise because of how I interpret the way that other people are acting.</p>
<p>Shayla:  Can I ask you a question just to clarify this?</p>
<p>Eric:  Please do.</p>
<p>Shayla:  So let’s say one day you feel really lonely and you feel this need for company or connection.  Can you explain that in the context of what you’re trying to say about needs?</p>
<p>Eric:  Well, my mind might be saying, “There’s nobody here.  I’m on the road all by myself.  I’m coming into a town where I don’t know anybody.  My friends are so far away,”-this is all the story I’m telling myself.  From there I become aware of whatever I’m feeling in my body, feelings of heaviness, loneliness.  Then I look for that quality (need), which we might call connection, closeness, or community.  When I give my full presence to that word, it’s just a word; it’s just trying to point me to love, really: It’s just a flavour of love, and the only function I want it to serve is to point me to the love that is already in here.  The reason I feel lonely isn’t because there is nobody here; it’s because I’ve stopped being present with me.  My presence has gotten lost in my thinking, and my interpretations.  So, if I can actually stop and slow down and be with the quality of connection - that’s the need that’s alive in me - and allow myself to feel the loneliness and the sadness, then I experience maybe some real sadness, but it’s a sadness that’s connected to love.  It’s what I would call a sweet sadness, a real mourning as opposed to a suffering that’s coming from the thinking that there’s nobody here, nobody cares about me, and so on.</p>
<p>Shayla:  That there’s a lack, something’s missing.</p>
<p>Eric:  That there’s a lack.  Yeah.  The sadness that is sweet is reconnecting me.  The real mourning is like the conduit that brings me back into the love that is always here.</p>
<p>Shayla:  And that’s the principle of needs in NVC?</p>
<p>Eric: Mhmm.</p>
<p>Shayla:  I never really understood that.</p>
<p>Eric:  And that doesn’t mean that I never need to be around anybody.</p>
<p>Shayla:  That’s right.</p>
<p>Eric:  But, what I experience then is the energy of that need for connection moves me from a place of joy, towards, “hmm, maybe I’ll go to a cafe and see if there’s a reading going on.  Or, maybe I’ll call up my sister, or friend.  And now I’m moved.  Because that’s what needs do: They move you in the world to experience more joy.</p>
<p>Shayla:  That’s a very different way than, as you said, the conditioned mind, which would have me move from a desperate place.</p>
<p>Eric: Yes.</p>
<p>Shayla:  And then I usually don’t get what I actually do need, when I’m desperate.</p>
<p>Eric:  Yeah, because what I’ll choose then is I’ll go and get some junk food or I’ll go watch a bad movie, and that’s not meeting my needs.</p>
<p>Shayla:  Yeah, trying to fill up the emptiness.</p>
<p>Eric:  Yeah, exactly.  So, it’s the difference of coming from a sense of wholeness to move out into&#8230;  And it’s so easy to talk about; it’s another thing to really do that when I’m out there feeling lonely.  In a relationship, in a deep intimate relationship, boy, you get to practice this all the time.  Here’s my partner.  He or she can’t be with me right now.  Can I let go of all the judgements and blaming and give myself the attention for this need that is alive in me?  Or maybe turn to somebody else. I started talking about this because when I met Melody, I was not connected to the energy of my needs.  I was very much a person of lack - I don’t know, I’m not going to say more or less than anybody else.  I’m just aware that I wasn’t often moving in life from a place of real self-connection and sense of joy.  I was looking outside of myself to be filled.  If you start a relationship that way, you are starting on a very difficult path.  It’s going to be constant expectations and demands on your partner, whether they’re overt or unconsciously expressed.</p>
<p>I see that the practice of NVC that we shared together helped me heal that looking-outside-myself, that place of lack.  And it’s not completely healed, but it’s been helped a great deal.  The gift of our challenges in relationship was&#8230; my choice was either to suffer or really do the work of being present with whatever is there.  And it took me a while, but I chose to do the work of being present in myself and got to a place of real peace with my needs.  And I realized that I needed to let go of my attachment to being in this relationship to meet those needs.</p>
<p>Now I’m getting more and more in touch with my sense of wholeness, or at least more and more able to come back to that.  That is another reason I believe we are still in a warm and loving and supportive friendship:  Because both of us are meeting each other more and more from our inner wholeness, if you want to put it that way.  With lots of work still to do, I know.</p>
<p>Shayla:  There’s something that comes up for me when I listen to you Eric, and that is what a profound, far-reaching thing it is that you are actually saying. In relation to our collective conditioning, almost every song on the radio, everything you read about love is, “When I meet the right person, then I’ll be complete.”  So you’re going against a very powerful stream of beliefs and conditionings.  And that is a radical thing you’re offering, just the possibility of that.</p>
<p>Melody:  I have this memory that’s coming to mind.  It was probably about a month and a half ago when Eric and I were going through all of our things in the house that we had lived in for four years.  We sat down to just be with each other.  We sat and just looked into each other’s eyes for a long time.  I felt a sort of dissolving away of a lot of the stories that we’ve carried about each other.  I experienced seeing our journey together from this bird’s-eye view, seeing it on a karmic level - what we came together to work through.  In my experience it became clear that, in letting go of being a couple, in some way we were completing some pattern of suffering, some pattern of the pain that we’ve carried in this life, and the pain that we triggered and reflected for each other.  I had this deep sense of peace, of just appreciating that we learned so much together.  We joked about our relationship kind of being this Masters Program in relationship, (laughs)</p>
<p>Shayla: Or a laboratory.</p>
<p>Melody:  Yes, a laboratory!  An intensive on working through relationship dynamics, partly because we chose to work together and to teach NVC together.  So, in our time together, there was a certain kind of concentration because we spent so much time together, we were working together.  And what we were teaching was so much about communication.  So we were really working the depths of it.</p>
<p>Shayla: You kind of both put yourself in the hot seat for four years.</p>
<p>Melody:  Yeah! (Laughing)  And I just appreciate so much what we’ve both learned and what we were choosing to let go of, in terms of our dynamics as we let go of trying to be a couple.</p>
<p>Shalya:  Wow.</p>
<p>Eric:  I remember that.  We did that in different ways and times.  Last spring we took a morning to share our fond memories and really appreciate what we had shared together and what we had learned together. That was fantastic because it’s so familiar for the mind to focus on the things that didn’t work.  So we put aside some time to remember all the wonderful things we’d shared and then also invite our community, you (Shayla) and others, to witness us – that we are not alone in this, we are still held with love and acceptance and support.  It was fantastic.</p>
<p>Shayla:  That was a very powerful, beautiful ceremony of transition.  I know that there was a lot of feeling, a lot of emotion that day, with all of us.  I didn’t have the feeling of being separate from you, and we all kept saying that.  There was grief, there was joy, there was longing, there was celebration.  It was all there in that circle.  The way that you allowed your community to hold you that day was really beautiful.  I’m hoping that there comes a time when you can assist other people, who need that kind of ceremony too, to design one similar to the one you did, which was very spontaneous.</p>
<p>Melody:  I think it’s really potent to honour these times of transition.  We create rituals for joining and coming together.  I have so much gratitude for being able to <em>celebrate</em> what we lived together, and celebrate what we’re living together now.  Instead of it being this severing and this disconnection and this making-it-wrong.  Or that it was a failure, or all those cultural ideas we have or think about separations of a relationship.</p>
<p>Shayla:  Do you want to let us know a little about that journey you were speaking about with me earlier today?</p>
<p>Melody:  The plant medicine ceremony?</p>
<p>Shayla:  Mhmm.</p>
<p>Melody:  I think it’s about two weeks ago that Eric and I did a plant medicine ceremony together, and I really had a deeper understanding. I had a visual picture of how the stories we carry in our mind of another person, especially in my relationship with Eric with all the stories I had about him and about my relating to him, how we super-impose those stories and they become like a layer around us.  Then we see each other through those stories.  I experienced those stories starting to slough away as I connected on a deeper level to just seeing Eric in the place of his soul, in the place of the light of his being.  I just had so much love, so much love for him.  Yeah, I’m kind of wordless, to be honest (laughing).</p>
<p>Shayla: Yeah, yeah. Because, in order to describe, in order to put words to that, it’s like taking back what you had let go of.  Because what you were seeing in him is almost an indescribable thing: it’s the essence of his being.  And on top of that are all the stories and memories.</p>
<p>Melody:  Yeah.  So being able to see beyond all those conditioned ideas and reactions and emotional patterns that we carry around and through which we filter how we see another person.  Over the last few months, as we’ve been doing little pieces of completion of our relationship and our business, I’ve watched my thoughts going towards trying to find something wrong about what Eric did in our dynamic.  And I’ve really reigned my thoughts back and put  my attention on what that experience reflects to me about how I relate to myself; and how I can shift how I’m relating to that part in myself, so that I can then be meeting those needs in myself by just showing up to them really deeply and truly.  When I do this, I am able to be more clearly available and present to another person without all those filters.</p>
<p>Eric:  I want to add something to that.  The classic NVC expression is something like, “When you do a particular thing, I feel frustrated because it doesn’t meet my need for&#8230;”  And I sort of teach it that way to start, but I really emphasize as soon as possible that the reason you’re feeling frustrated is mostly because of your filters that are activated and the fact that you are not fully present in yourself with whatever your need is.  So, I’d rather say, “I’m feeling frustrated right now because I have a filter that’s getting in the way (all three laughing) of my connecting fully to this love in myself.”  So, I know it’s actually not about you. I have a filter on right now; therefore, I’m feeling frustrated because of this filter, interpretation, belief, whatever you want to call it, and I’m not fully connected, present. I’m not fully present with this need for caring, acceptance, or whatever it is.  “And if you just give me a moment, maybe I can give myself that presence, and then I can better hear you.”</p>
<p>Shayla:  When I listen to both of you, it’s beautiful.  I remember a turning point in my own work with couples happened a few years ago when I had a couple in this room.  They’d been struggling a lot with patterns that weren’t working.  I had them do an exercise, and at the end of the exercise the husband had this bewildered look on his face.  He looked at his wife, they’d been married for twenty years, and he said to her, “I just don’t know who you are anymore.”  And she looked at him and said, “Oh, thank God! I’ve been waiting for you to say that to me for the last fifteen years.”</p>
<p>Melody:  Yes, instead of thinking we know who the person is based on all our judgements of them.</p>
<p>Shayla:  I realized at that moment that that’s what we really want.  And that any idea that anyone has of us, even a good idea, is limiting because we’re infinite beings and we can’t be squished into these little boxes.  Even someone who’s never heard of NVC or presence still knows that, that when you tell me I’m <em>this</em>, I feel limited.</p>
<p>Eric:  I remember reading an article about a Buddhist Monastery where one of the students was really, really ill, on the edge of dying.  One of his teachers finally came to him or her one day and said, “I realize I’ve been attached to you staying alive.  I want to apologize for that and just be with you now.”</p>
<p>Melody:  It reminds me of being with my Grandmother around her death, and just connecting to her Being beyond her physical body.  There was an enlivening quality in embracing the death and the unknown of what that death would bring.  In a way there’s been a kind of death (of our relationship).  I think that both of us (Eric and I) experienced some aspect of this aliveness and excitement and the juice of really letting something die.  We allowed the birth of what wants to unfold, without knowing what it was going to be.  There’s just an incredible sense of aliveness.</p>
<p>Eric:  And it’s been a real stretch for me (laughing) to be with our “death” because my pattern in the past has been to get the heck out of there as soon as there is a decision to end a relationship.  I would want to be gone, not be around that person anymore and face that “death”.  And I highly recommend the opposite, even though it hasn’t been easy for me.  Those same impulses of going away have been there.  And I’ve had people I know say to me, “why are you still working through things?” And it’s because it’s allowing me to let go with love and connection – be more present in myself and with people I care about.</p>
<p>Melody:  I think about relationships in my past where there’s been a really painful break, and the way I experienced that confirmed my story around love not being consistent or that I’m not supported, or all the different interpretations that I might have made about life based on my experiences as a child.  Being in a separation with real pain and blame just confirmed those stories.  Whereas, going through this separation in a loving way, actually allowed me to not identify with those stories as true anymore.</p>
<p>Shayla: So, in fact it’s a profound reconditioning of your whole thought stream.</p>
<p>Melody: Yeah.</p>
<p>Shayla:  It strikes me also that one of the reasons I find it so inspiring just to be with you right now and to feel, to feel this&#8230;, it’s not even&#8230;, connection makes it sound like there’s two separate people; it’s something deeper than that.  The reason it’s so inspiring to me is because I’ve noticed that we’re in a period right now of such speeded-up evolution.  Many, many people are changing and letting go of old ways of being - jobs, relationships – so rapidly right now, that we can very easily find ourselves in a relationship that no longer quite fits, even though there’s a tremendous amount of love still there.  I’ve noticed, as a coach recently, many, many, many couples disengaging and breaking up.  I’ve checked with other counsellors and coaches and they’ve said they’ve seen the same thing.  So, you’re holding out some kind of possibility here of looking at it with very different eyes.  Seeing that, it’s like there’s these two different levels: one is the unconditioned love and how we can stay completely connected with that; and the other is the form of that love, which is always changing anyway, even within a relationship.  It’s changing.</p>
<p>So, anything that either of you feel like you want to say to complete this session?</p>
<p>Melody:  What’s present for me is this palpable sense of the vibration of love and expansiveness.  I get really excited about, for both of us as well as for other people, being able to bring awareness to the conditioning that we carry, to a degree where we’re actually able to free ourselves - to really honour our true nature and see each other, see another from that place.</p>
<p>Eric:  One of the reasons I wanted to do this interview, this exploration we’ve just done, was to support other couples to, like you just said, bring more awareness and be more present for each other, whether they stay together or not.  It’s not an easy thing to really know when it makes sense to keep going together in relationship and when it makes more sense to transition and separate from intimate relationship.  But, what I hope for people is that they can do what they need to do to come back inside and listen as deeply as possible, connect to that place of wholeness, and move, whichever way they move, from a place of willingness and aliveness.</p>
<p>Melody: And loving.</p>
<p>Shayla:  Thank you Melody, thank you Eric very much for sharing this.</p>
<p>Melody:  Thank you Shayla.</p>
<p>Eric:  Yes, thank you very much.</p>
<p>____________________________________________________________________________</p>
<p>Shayla:  If you’d like to find out more about Melody Greger and her work, you can visit www.luminoussource.com</p>
<p>Melody:  For more information about Eric Bowers and his work, visit www.roadtocompassion.com</p>
<p>Eric:  And to find out more about Shayla Wright, go to her website at www.barefootjourneys.com</p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRSS>http://ilovenelson.com/separating-in-connection/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Presence For The Past</title>
		<link>http://ilovenelson.com/presence-for-the-past</link>
		<comments>http://ilovenelson.com/presence-for-the-past#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 10 Sep 2009 17:42:12 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>ericbowers</dc:creator>
		
	<category>Rhymes with Compassion</category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://ilovenelson.com/presence-for-the-past</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[  

“Given sincerity, there will be enlightenment.” –The Doctrine Of The Mean.
 
I began my day like many others: sitting in silence, a little exercise, some writing, and tracking of the endless vertical trail of emails.  While I was on the computer, Melody came down and began her day, picking up the silence where I [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><!--[if gte mso 9]&amp;amp;amp;gt;     Normal   0                         MicrosoftInternetExplorer4   --> <!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --> <!--[if gte mso 10]&amp;amp;amp;gt;   /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman";}  --></p>
<p align="center"><strong><br />
“Given sincerity, there will be enlightenment.” –The Doctrine Of The Mean.</strong></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p><strong>I began my day like many others: sitting in silence, a little exercise, some writing, and tracking of the endless vertical trail of emails.  While I was on the computer, Melody came down and began her day, picking up the silence where I had left it in the living room.  After a while I went into the kitchen and began preparing some breakfast.  Melody called from the living room and asked if I would like to join her for some mantra meditation.  I was hungry and had work details floating around in my head, but I was also drawn to joining Melody.  Without slowing down to connect to my needs, I said yes, joined Melody in the living room, kissed her good morning, then sat down and asked her what mantra she would like to sing.  I was preparing to begin the mantra we had chosen when Melody asked me if this wasn’t a good time for me.  I thought I heard a slight edge of either irritation or disappointment in her voice and her face was not quite relaxed.  My torso flinched as if I had just been yelled at, and a fleeting hint of anger passed through me.  However, I replied that I was fine.  After a moment, in an attempt to be more honest and transparent, I added that I had breakfast and work details on my mind.</strong></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p><strong>We began to sing but my experience was far from meditative.  I could feel my body processing the stress hormones released from my reaction to Melody’s question.  I could hear the judging and blaming thoughts gathering steam, “She is so sensitive.  Why can’t she just relax.  I’m walking on eggshells here.”  I tried to keep my focus on what I was singing, which I believe saved me from getting too caught up in the vortex of my thinking.  The longer we cycle through reactive thinking, the more difficult it is come back to a place of connection in ourselves and with another.  And sometimes it takes only the slightest stimulus to get the reactive thinking started.</strong></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p><strong>By the time we were done singing and in the kitchen preparing breakfast together, I was able to see my thinking for what is was – not the truth, just part of my unconscious reaction in a dynamic we had been through several times before.  However, I was not yet back to a relaxed state in myself or with Melody.  Instead of defaulting to my old habit of getting on with things as if all is fine, I decided to express what was going on for me.  I really wanted both of us to find freedom from our reactions in this dynamic.  I told Melody that I had gotten tense from our interaction and that I would love for us to practice more of a process we had been developing for transforming reactive triggers.  I went on to explain that I wanted us to have freedom from how the past was influencing our present reactions in this dynamic.  I had hoped that Melody would enjoy exploring this with me; instead, she seemed to tighten and withdraw.  Rather than sharing transparently and taking full responsibility for my part of our interaction, I was turning to solutions.  Furthermore, on a subconscious level, I was attached to Melody changing because part of me believed my reaction had been caused by her - by the edge of tone and expression she had used.  No surprise that Melody wasn’t connecting to the intention behind my words.</strong></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p><strong>As we sat down to eat I went back to the moment of flinching and became curious.  Why would I have such a reaction to a relatively harmless stimulus?  If others had seen our interaction they might have described Melody’s tone and facial description as gentle, curious, or perhaps concerned.  And even if others agreed with my version, why would I have such a reaction to a slight edge in tone and facial expression?  I began to look for my needs and came to a need for ease.  It made sense to me that I would need ease in this situation, but I didn’t feel my body relax so I guessed there was a deeper need.  Again I went back to the feeling of my body flinching and asked myself where I had felt that before.  Memories of being rebuked, punished, and yelled at as a young boy came to the surface.  I felt my body relax as I got in touch with my old needs for safety, autonomy and to be accepted as I am.  (For me, acceptance does not mean that my behaviour is accepted as just fine no matter what.  It means that I have acceptance for my needs and that I am seen as doing my best to meet my needs, not judged or punished for who I am or how I am behaving.  With this experience of acceptance, we have much more inspiration to change our behaviour.)  My response was not about Melody or the present circumstances, as it often isn’t.  Old unmet needs were the cause of my response, and the hint of anger reminded me of how I sometimes felt after being rebuked or punished by my parents.  Having teased apart the past from the present, I was ready to speak honestly and responsibly about my experience and behaviour.</strong></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p><strong>When I told Melody about the old needs had come up for me, she seemed to relax.  I went on to say that I wished that when I had joined her to sing a mantra, I had told her that I had a few things on my mind and needed a few moments to become present.  This would have met my needs for self-connection, connection with Melody, and integrity with my spiritual practice.  Melody shared that she had had a flash of thoughts about my state of busyness having something to do with her.  These thoughts were some version of, “I’ve done something wrong and he is not happy about it.”  These thoughts were not about the present; rather, they were part of her survival system activating from past trauma and responding to a look on my face or a tone in my voice.  The thinking that goes along with our past traumas can be so imbedded in our unconscious mind that it can be difficult to be aware of.  Melody said she recognized that the way she expressed her question did not come across as an empathic inquiry towards connection.  She went on to explain that her need in that moment had been for presence, but the deeper old unmet need for safety was behind her thoughts and the energy of her expression. What Melody offered was that she could have taken a moment to connect to her needs and then either expressed them transparently, or empathized with me from an intention to connect.  A warm sweetness began to flow between us as it usually does once we have both shared transparently and taken full responsibility.</strong></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p><strong>Just like many others, Melody and I grew up in homes where there were times when we learned to be on guard and protect ourselves from judgements, anger, threats, and punishment from our parents.  Nonetheless, I have understanding and compassion for my parents; they were doing the best they could do, given their upbringing and life histories.  However, without support to heal our childhood challenges, we carry them into our adulthood, and they continue to affect our thoughts, feelings, and behaviours.  The limbic system, the part of the brain that is focussed on survival, plays an important part in how our past affects our present.  The amygdala, a key part of the limbic system, stores images of extreme or recurring threats to our physical safety and, especially for children, to our bonds of love.  Unless we are able to process and release the emotions and stress from our threatening experiences, our amygdalas will instantly notify the limbic system of danger each time we see a behaviour or stimulus that looks similar to an original stored image.  The limbic system then puts the nervous system in survival mode – fight, flight, or freeze.  This survival response can continue to happen long after the original threatening experience has past.  The degree of intensity to which we go into survival mode can depend on the stimulus and the state of our inner resources – our awareness and vitality.</strong></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p><strong>Once our limbic system moves us toward survival mode, it becomes difficult to access the present oriented, rational, problem-solving part of our brains, the prefrontal cortex.  There is literally less blood in our prefrontal cortex as blood moves to the limbic system for focussing on survival.  Furthermore, our amygdala was designed to act instantly to keep us safe and alive when danger appears; it is not well designed for discerning what actually is physically threatening to us and what just looks similar to something that once was.  Therefore, the amygdala might instantly notify the limbic system when presented with a relatively harmless stimulus, one that looks like something that was threatening long ago.  These stimuli may be things such as a facial expression, a tone of voice, certain words, a type of touch, a smell or taste, and so on.   Although the amygdala acts before we realize what has happened, there is a short window of time before the limbic system starts a cascade of hormones and chemical reactions that put us into survival mode.  If we become familiar with and learn to watch for the stimuli that tend to activate our survival response, and we learn to notice the beginning signals of survival response in our bodies, we can more likely make a conscious choice to respond honestly and responsibly.  </strong></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p><strong>To free ourselves from the effects of our past, our old unmet needs and associated feelings need to be processed.  There are many ways to support the healing of past challenges. Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy, Somatic Therapies, and Attachment Theory processes are some examples.  Dr. Bruce Lipton, who has done ground-breaking work on epi-genetics (the study of how our genetic make-up <em>and our perceptions of reality </em>determine the type of people we become) suggests that energy psychologies, hypnotherapy, and Buddhist mindfulness practices are effective strategies for releasing our past challenges and the inhibiting reactions and beliefs that go along with them.  There are NVC processes for mindfully transforming our old patterns and Melody and I are developing a process that we are excited about.  </strong></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p><strong>Whatever process or strategy you use to work with issues that arise, it is always helpful to take full responsibility for your part by looking for your needs as the cause of your reaction, instead of blaming another for your reaction.  It is also very helpful to be transparent about your feelings and deepest needs.  Ask yourself what piece of your past is affecting you in this moment.  When have you felt a similar reaction before?  What needs of yours were not met back then?   Asking for a pause so that both of you can get connected to your needs and take responsibility can do wonders if both are willing.  The sooner you become aware that you are in a reactive or survival mode, the easier it will be to shift towards connection.  There may be resistance to taking the time to slow down and look deeper at what is going on.  However, much greater amounts of time and energy are saved by not going into a downward spiral of judging, blaming, and interlocking old pain, especially in the long run.  If things do spiral into unconscious, reactive arguments that end with both sides angry, hurt, or upset, please find compassion for yourself and the other as it can be quite challenging to transform old trauma patterns.  Also, there is always the opportunity to do the inner work needed, perhaps with support from another, to get to a place where you can take responsibility and express transparently.</strong></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p><strong>Even with my understanding of how the past affects our present, it is not always easy for me to admit that I can get easily triggered and have old unmet needs affect my present behaviour. I sometimes block myself from looking more deeply or sharing more transparently because I want to be seen as strong, equanimous, or “together”.  It’s easier to look at how Melody can change, how Melody could become more easy going, than look at and accept the part in me that flinches from a relatively harmless stimulus - the young me that is still trying to meet needs that weren’t met as a child.  Also, because we can sometimes slip into a survival mode quite easily in response to subtle stimuli, transforming recurring and challenging relationship dynamics can be difficult work, even discouraging at times.  One of the things I am very grateful for in my relationship with Melody is that we work together and take time to look at how well we are managing the issues that arise, especially the recurring issues.  We celebrate what worked, look at what didn’t work, and explore what might work better next time.   With this approach the issues can be seen as pieces of a puzzle that are very rewarding to solve together.  </strong></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p><strong>Any type of ongoing relationship can improve and evolve when both involved are committed to collaborative and supportive growth.   Find simple and effective strategies for working out challenging dynamics in a way that does the least amount of harm and guides you back into connection.  Then, during other times when you are already in a place of connection, assess how well the puzzle-solving is going and how the strategies can be improved upon.  Following this approach can bring more inspiration to grow in your relationship, as well as confidence that you can free yourselves from your past and thrive together. </strong></p>
<p><strong> </strong></p>
<p><strong>Eric Bowers</strong></p>
<p><strong>(My special thanks to Melody for her support with this article, particularly for her input on the limbic system, which comes from her training in Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy.)</strong>
</p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRSS>http://ilovenelson.com/presence-for-the-past/feed/</wfw:commentRSS>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>

