Humans need connection. We’d all like the people in our lives to be like-minded or at least supportive, but sometimes they’re just not. Which can make connecting with others feel scary or like too much work. Perhaps you're someone who would love to just be by yourself for rest of your life. That can sound good, but…

The desire to connect is a human attribute that we need to intentionally bring back into vogue. Why? Because that’s how we grow.

When I think of connection, the image that forms in my mind is of a grid, a network, with a light at the intersection where two lines meet. The lines represent the energetic flow of myself and those people who are, or who will be, in my life. Life lines perhaps.

Can you catch yourself?

Does that phrase bring up images of you chasing yourself around in circles? For many of us, it does. You try to get one thing accomplished and something else pops up that takes your attention. On and on it goes until you find the only thing you’ve managed to do is spin your wheels and end up completely exhausted.

The same can be true with your thoughts.

I had someone tell me recently that inner child work is considered woo-woo. That came as a bit of a surprise because it’s been so helpful to me personally.

Our inner child holds a lifetime of information and we can benefit from being in relationship with her. When you get triggered, chances are your inner child is reacting to a memory she’s holding onto.

Our subconscious minds are a storehouse of information. Information goes in and stays there. If you ever want to know anything about yourself, simply get quiet, ask your question and your subconscious will provide you with the answer. Maybe not in that immediate moment and you may not like the response, but it will tell you.

I’m taking a class with Isabelle Benerous called 'Elevate Your Life'. When we were exploring our beliefs recently, she asked participants to share some limiting beliefs. One participant wrote, “I’m not good enough.”

How many of us believe we’re not good enough. Too many I’m sure.

I loved Isabelle’s response. She said to the woman, “Not good enough when?” Isabelle went on to say that we’re all good enough at something. We’re good enough at brushing our teeth or driving our car for example.

“Thanks for taking these library books back for me.” I said to my friend.
“You’re welcome, I’ll try to take care of that for you.”
“Try?” I asked myself. Try?
“Do you think you won’t be able to?” I asked her.
“Oh, no, I’ll stop over this afternoon and drop them off.” She replied.
“Okay, thanks so much.”
 
There’s a big difference between try and will. When my friend said she’d try, she didn’t sound committed to making sure the books would be returned. If at first she’d said, “Yes, I will take them over this afternoon” there would have been no question. It’s a firm commitment of intention.

“I really want to lose some weight” a client said to me.
“How much would you like to lose?”
“Probably 35 pounds, I’d like to weigh 125.”
“When was the last time you weighed 125?” I queried.
“When I was in college.”
“And how old are you now?”
“Fifty-five.”

Does this conversation resonate with you? You’ve put on some weight and you’d love more than anything to lose it and have the body you once had.

May I ever so gently remind you that you'll never be twenty again?

I don’t mean to sound defeatist. Not at all. I’m a realist and by that I mean, I accept the present moment with compassion. I allow that who and what I am in this moment is exactly the way I’m intended to be – a little rounder in the middle, gray hair, sagging breasts.

Sure, I’d like some things to be different. I too wouldn’t mind wearing some of the cute little outfits of my youth, but then again…

There are many ways we can move our bodies, but for me, I like walking. Inhaling fresh air, especially on a crisp fall day, is heaven on earth.

In the summer when it’s hot, I like to get up before the sunrise to walk. More than the heat though, the road I walk on is due east/west so the sun rises behind me and I’m not visible to oncoming traffic. The road is a very narrow country road, so there’s a survival component to my getting up early.

As I walk, I greet the maple trees in my front yard and the neighborhood Golden Retriever Ginger who sits outside waiting for a passerby to play ball with her. One morning, she sat with a plastic bat in her mouth – the image of it still cracks me up.

“No, we’re not eating lunch.” My friend Janet said. “We’re having hot fudge sundaes for dinner, remember?”

“What does that have to do with lunch?” I asked.

My stomach was hungry and I was getting a little shaky. We’d been water skiing all morning and I was ready to eat.

“A hot fudge sundae has a lot of calories,” Janet reminded me, “so if we don’t eat lunch we’ll stay within our calorie limit for the day.”

“Oh” was all I managed to say.

I didn’t get it. But Janet was the smart one in our teenage duo. We had become friends in ninth grade when I was put into an accelerated algebra class without ever knowing algebra and as Winnie the Pooh says, “that’s a long story and even longer when I tell it,” so I’ll spare you the details. Suffice it to say, because Janet was thin and I was not, I looked up to her and her theory on how to be thin.

I woke up the other night thinking about the body and how amazing it is. I mean, it’s so incredibly amazing that we don’t even know all the details of how it works. I love how we’re constantly learning new things about it.

And yet, we try to control and manipulate it.

I love it when I start thinking about the magnificence of the body. How, from one egg and one sperm, a body knows how to grow into form with an innate intelligence and the ability survive on planet earth.

When I try to force an idea into being, and inevitably get stuck, my ego starts spurting out thoughts of not being good enough or of how lame I am.

An interesting thing about the mind is how it’s not creative. But then again, that’s not really the mind’s role, is it.

The mind can only use information it’s attained externally – it’s not creative, it doesn’t imagine, but it is a whiz at processing.

Trying to force the mind into bringing forth a fresh idea only creates fodder for the ego.

So where do those imaginative ideas come from?