the right to make mistakes

A little love note to my fellow recovering perfectionists...

When I'm in a shame attack, I forget my humanity. I forget I have rights, including the right to make a mistake. 

I used to edit a literary magazine, and I would literally be unable to open the new issue when it arrived (I would ask someone else to open it first) out of fear of finding a glaring typo.

I didn't know that making a mistake is a right that I have. The right to not be a robot. The right to not be perfect. The right to be a human goofing up, making a mistake, and then moving on.

I love framing it this way, because it reminds me that mistakes are something worth claiming—one of our human rights! 

And since then, I've learned some functional ways to approach mistake-making. 

If I think I made a mistake, it helps to name it and handle it lightly—oops, I goofed! No more avoiding.

It helps to check it out with a friend and make sure I'm not being too hard on myself.

If someone was harmed and amends are needed, I can make amends (lightly!) and then move on with life. This is the kicker—and then move on. 

And these days, I'm even interrogating my idea of what qualifies as a mistake. According to whom? I might ask.

It helps to remember the mysteries of trying to classify right and wrong. This is not a science. 

And we get to claim the right to make mistakes.

Here's a beautiful poem about a supposed "mistake" from poet Laura Gilpin's book The Hocus Pocus of the Universe. 

Here's to seeing twice as many stars as usual.

Sending lots of human, mistake-filled love to you,
Brianna

P.S. If you want support around being human and making mistakes, I'm here. 

Photo via Unsplash: Sarah Kilian @rojekilian

I'm not worried about you one bit

I think most of us are looking for more trust, which seems to be a missing nutrient in our world today. 

In my editing and coaching work and in my personal relationships, one small but mighty gesture I can make toward generating more trust is to hold a vision of high regard for my clients and loved ones. 

This means choosing to not bring an energy of worry and fear to the table, not scrambling and fretting and over-compensating.

This isn't always easy. Especially in our most intimate relationships.

But when I am doing my own inner work to be a sturdy presence, I can trust my loved ones or my clients. And I reflect this back to them at times when they might be struggling to trust themselves. 

I learned this from my sponsor in my 12-step program.

I would call her and frantically pour out whatever awful problem I was facing. She would listen and ask questions and remind me of my tools. And then she would end the call by saying this: 

I'm not worried about you one bit. 

I remember in the beginning of our work together how this baffled me. What!? You're not worried? I'm a disaster! You should be! Ha. 

But I also felt a tiny dose of her trust carry over to me. And it was life-giving and nourishing. 

In spite of whatever doubts and fears and problems I was facing, she held a vision of me moving through the pain, growing, maturing, and flourishing.

I'm so grateful for her vision. 

And now I work to bring this same gift of trust and high regard to my clients and family and friends. 

And I can tell you it's life-giving. 

Try it out.

The next time a friend or a child or partner is struggling, don't jump in and join them in their fear. Try not to over-compensate with helping and problem-solving.

Instead, hold a vision of high regard for them and their ability to move through their life. Listen. Ask questions, if you’d like. Maybe remind them of all their wisdom and all their tools. And then tell them how you're not worried about them one bit!

Let me know how it goes!
Brianna

Photo by Andrea Tummons.

difficulty owning and expressing your reality?

Did you know that you can own and express your own reality?

Maybe this seems ridiculously obvious, but for me and so many of the clients I've worked with, it can be a challenge in our closer relationships.

I've been studying Pia Mellody's model for codependence, and she says that one of the five core symptoms of codependence is difficulty owning and expressing our reality. 

An important part of codependence recovery is learning that we can own our reality...and let other people own theirs too!

Wait, what?!

My kids can have their own wildly different thoughts about something and I can have mine!?  (By the way, this doesn't mean we aren't accountable for the impact our reality might have on others.)

I've suffered from a lot of gaslighting, which makes it hard to trust my own reality.

And I often used to confuse agreement for intimacy.

Together, this made it difficult for me to realize that I even had my own distinct reality (and that others do, too), let alone claim it and express it as mine. 

When we don't own our reality, it's hard to show up fully and be fully know—we're like fuzzy blobs.

And it's hard to take responsibility for ourselves when we don't know where we end and others begin. 

So. 

Owning and expressing our reality. 

If you struggle with people-pleasing, fawning, or not trusting yourself, baby steps. 

Try noticing your own reality—your thoughts, feelings, body sensations, behaviors. 

Try noticing when your reality is different from a friend or loved one.  

And then try expressing it, and no need to argue or explain. Just a Huh, I feel/think/act differently about that is a great place to start.

What do you think? I wanna hear about your reality! 

With care, 
Brianna

You are not a problem to be solved

I recently did an archetypal astrology session with the amazing Karen Hawkwood, and I can't stop thinking about something she told me. 

I don't know much about astrology, but according to my chart (and this lines up with my lived experience), she said I have a lot of push/pull within me.

And then she told me that this push/pull and the complexities and different parts in me do not need to be resolved. She said I am not a problem to be fixed!

As soon as she said this I felt my stomach expand and my shoulders relax. 

I've studied self-compassionate work for years, but as a life-long fixer and recovering perfectionist, I tend to forget. I need to be reminded. 

And somehow knowing that even my astrology chart had this message for me made it land in a new way. Ha!  

If you're also one of those people who experience a lot of complicated parts inside you or a lot of push/pull internally, I see you. And if you struggle with perfectionism or always "fixing," I see you, too. 

You are not a problem to be solved.

With care,
Brianna

P.S. By the way, all of this healing and learning is not about perpetual self-improvement. It's about taking conscious responsibility for my life (and my wounds) so that I can grow up and become a nourishing, stabilizing presence in the world. If you wanna do this kind of growing up, too, life coaching can help—sign up for a session!

Photo by Mark Stosberg via unspalsh

Are you coming? Out into the light?

"Are you coming? Out into the light? You who aren’t stone, but flesh? You who aren’t dead, but alive?"

Ah, I love these lines from the short story "Passages" by Elena Penga and I needed to read them again today. And I wondered if they speak to you, too? 

Just in case we needed to know that others are also haunted by impatience with this life (are you coming!?). 

Just in case we needed to know that others are standing a few steps ahead and holding the door open...are you coming?

Just in case we had forgotten our aliveness and had turned to stone (it's so easy to forget). 

Just in case we needed to remember that there are questions like these, that we have choices. 

Are you coming?
Out into the light?
You who aren’t stone, but flesh?
You who aren’t dead, but alive?

Gratefully, in this moment, my answer is yes. What about you? Are any of these questions speaking to you today? 

I'm so glad you're here, 
Brianna

P.S. If you want support around remembering your aliveness, around discovering choices, I’m here.

inner conflict + your younger self

How do you know if your younger self needs some attention?

I've noticed it often looks like inner conflict, feeling divided, or self-sabotaging. The desire to make amends to our younger self can also arise from a place of curiosity or compassion, of wanting to "check in" on those younger parts. 

Either way, you can't go wrong in bringing more attention to your younger self because this allows blocked or stagnant energy to flow and it allows for more awareness. Instead of just throwing up your hands over the inner conflict or reacting with old, stale patterns, you can begin to consciously shift things.

For me, this process has really changed my inner world—how I approach myself and talk to myself. I used to have so much hostility toward myself, and now I can usually access genuine friendliness. And of course, this can't help but change my outer world. It's a ripple effect. 

If you're feeling stuck or feeling a lot of inner conflict (why do I keep doing that thing I don't want to do?!), try checking in with your younger self. Dig up a photo of yourself as a kid and put it by your bed or your sink or your front door. This is an act of love. Take off your solutions hat and really listen. You might be surprised with what you hear. 

With care,
Brianna

I wanted to know but didn't want to ask

In my editing work I'm often helping my clients to clarify—their story or a chapter or a paragraph.  

But what if we can't?

The mythologist Martin Shaw talks about the authenticity of incompleteness, how this is part of what it means to be human, and I feel the truth of this deep down.

Honestly, this is a friendly debate I've been having with myself for years. Sometimes I revel in accepting the incompleteness of being human (and its bedfellow bewilderment) and other times I am passionately seeking coherence and clarity...a version of completeness. 

I think it's a spectrum I move along depending on how confusing life is feeling. 

And I am in awe of writers like Fanny Howe, who fully embrace the bewilderment. Here's the opening line in her collection of essays Meditations on a Wedding Dress: “What I’ve been thinking about, lately, is bewilderment as a way of entering the day as much as the work. Bewilderment as a poetics and a politics.”

Ms. Howe goes on to write: “There is a Muslim prayer that says, ‘Lord, increase my bewilderment,’ and this prayer belongs both to me and to the strange Whoever who goes under the name of ‘I’ in my poems—and under multiple names in my fiction—where error, errancy, and bewilderment are the main forces that signal a story.”

I read these words from Fanny Howe some years ago when life was feeling especially confusing, and her idea of bewilderment as a way of living and writing actually rattled/perplexed me so much that I wrote to her (I did a deep-dive search on the internet and found an old email address). What about the importance of coherence? I asked. She kindly wrote me back, but, fittingly, she didn't answer my question. Ha!

Anyway, today, I'm thinking about what it means to let go of clarifying, to let go even of clarifying this internal debate. This is the next step for my bewildered, incomplete, looking-for-clarity self.

With care,
Brianna 

p.s. And an essay on Fanny Howe's poetry of bewilderment. 

rituals and feast days

I love the work of artist and mystic Meinrad Craighead, and I was feeling a kind of cosmic nudge to honor her life in some way.

I decided to celebrate a "feast day" for her, and I picked the day of her death, which was April 8th (she died in 2019).

So, I made a little altar with her art books, a photo of her, a candle, and some flowers. I told my kids about her, and all week long I've been smiling at her photo. 

She was a woman who trusted herself so deeply, and, for me, her life is like a soul expander of what's possible. I feel a connection to her, even beyond death (more about the breadcrumb trail that led me to Meinrad here).

I grew up with a religion that didn't value trusting your own experience with/of the divine. So the freedom to find and honor what feels sacred in life and follow the cosmic nudges has been an essential part of my healing. 

Where have you found your saints or guides or teachers? Would you like to celebrate their feast day? (It's traditionally the day of their death, but you could also celebrate the day you discovered their work, or their birthday, etc.)

With care,
Brianna

p.s. Want help following a cosmic nudge or dreaming up a ritual or feast day? I offer planning sessions here.

struggles

So many of us feel as if we should be struggling less. I hear my coaching clients talk about this, and I've so been there too! 

We think....

But I am in recovery! Or I have therapeutic tools and know better! Or I have a spiritual or mindfulness practice! Or I've read all the books! Therefore, I should be happier and "handling things."

I've definitely fallen into this trap, quickly followed by thinking that I'm doing something wrong. Or, even worse, that I am wrong. 

And by the way, so many corners of culture, immature religion, and the self-help industry perpetuate this idea—so we come by it very naturally. 

One of my spiritual teachers Cynthia Bourgeault teaches about this concept and the difference between mechanical suffering, what she calls "squeezing the cactus," and conscious suffering. She says that struggle and suffering are built into the human experience, and our work isn't to try and eradicate this but to work with it consciously by reducing the amount of mechanical and reactionary suffering—i.e., our old, stale ways of reacting and defending. 

I find this so liberating! I find such relief in normalizing all the struggle and ups and downs of being human. 

What does this look like, practically speaking?

For me, it goes something like this (with help from Mary Mrozowski’s welcome practice): 

When you are suffering or struggling (this can look like any kind of upset—feeling lonely, having racing thoughts, comparing, feeling sad or angry, etc), check and see if you're also adding a layer of shame to it. Are you adding some thoughts like I shouldn't be struggling, or why can't I handle this more skillfully, etc?

If so, can you locate the struggle in your body as sensation? Once you've found it, can you sink into the sensation and remind yourself that part of being human is to struggle?

Sometimes just this "allowing" and connecting with your body shifts the energy right away. Other times, it's a slow softening that you might gradually notice. We get to be human. We allow. The shame/judgement lightens and the softness increases.

This is powerful alchemy. This is taking responsibility for and stewarding our energetic states. And it's not about personal improvement projects—our conscious work has a larger impact that radiates out. 

What do you think? Do you find relief in normalizing the struggle? 

With care,
Brianna

thinking in circles

A dear friend taught me a question for cutting through internal and external noise, for when I'm feeling stuck around a next step or decision, for when I'm overthinking and weighing too many angles and opinions.  

Here's the question in all its glory...

Do I wanna? 

Yep, that's it.

And yes, it's very important to use the informal "wanna" spelling/pronunciation, I think because it keeps it more playful. "Wanna" invites a best guess rather than a heavy response or a pros/cons list.

And I think the directness of the question is also part of its power—it catches the mind (which has already been endlessly evaluating the situation inside and out) off guard. And then, if we're lucky, the body or heart or soul can weigh in. 

I can't always act on the information I learn. Do I wanna go to the dentist? No. But it's just so helpful to know what my inner longing has to say. And then I can take steps to follow the longing, or if I can't follow it, I can choose steps to make the process as easy on me as possible. (Like texting my sister after I go to the dentist so that she can tell me how amazing I am at taking care of my teeth. Ha!)

Is there something you've been thinking about in circles? Wanna try asking yourself this question?

Let me know how it goes!
Brianna

P.S And love these Walt Whitman lines below via Expedition Press. 

drop the stone early

Last year I signed up for a consultation with the brilliant poet Lisa Fay Coultey to get some feedback on my poetry manuscript. Yay, I asked for help! 

But, even though I’m a fellow editor and I know how it works, I didn't really like the feedback I got (or wasn’t ready to receive it), so I complained to a friend and then put Lisa's notes away and moved on. 

Has anyone else done this? Maybe you went to a therapist or a support group and then promptly decided it wasn't for you, that "things weren't that bad." Or you asked a friend for feedback and then got defensive or pulled away. 

It can be so hard to receive help.  

Anyway, I felt the impulse to look at Lisa's editing notes again. And folks, maybe this isn't coming as a surprise, but it was so helpful and/or I was ready.

Lisa told me that she thinks I'm burying the main loss of the book. She said: "drop the stone early, so we can see the ripples throughout the book."

Ah, I felt the truth of this in my bones. 

I've been thinking about what a human impulse this is—to obscure the deepest hurts, to bury the main loss, to think you've dropped the stone even as it's still clutched in your hand and even when you're writing a whole book about it!  

I love finding the buried spots (this is what both coaching and editing do), and it feels like one more layer is being peeled as I am ready to accept some challenging help with my poetry manuscript, to allow someone else to point out a buried spot for me. Whew.  

This is why we seek out a teacher or mentor or editor or sponsor or therapist or coach or a trusted friend. Because we can't always see it for ourselves. 

I am willing, and that's the biggest first step.

Take good care,
Brianna

doing the basics

I moved again last month (still in Fort Collins, CO), and whew, moving is so hard. I've been tired and trying to rest more and trying to not judge myself for being so tired. Rather than fighting it (and probably prolonging it), I'm "caving early" as author and life coach Martha Beck says.

So that's what I've been up to.  

Resting and doing the basics until I feel otherwise (and I've gone through this kind of cycle enough to trust that when I've rested enough, I will feel otherwise).

And I'm sending loads of love and permission in case anyone else needed to hear this today.

Cave early. Just the basics. Rest. More will be revealed when it's time. 

With love,
Brianna