A Letter to Myself on Those Tough Days
 
“When I wrote  ‘A Letter to Myself on Those Tough Days’, I cried the entire time I wrote it.  They were tears of relief and comfort, and the realization that I was stronger than I thought.  I finally realized that I had been looking outside of myself for all of the answers I was seeking, when really they were within me the whole time.  It was such a powerful moment for me. and hope that it will continue to be seen by those who need it and help them.”
-Annie

A Letter to Myself on Those Tough Days
I know that you are hurting, my love.  And I am here to listen.  Through those dark lonely pauses when you feel you are all alone, I will be here to fill the void.  I will stoke the ashes of your light when you believe it’s gone out, and keep it burning through the night; because really it’s never actually disappeared, you just can’t see it right now.  And that’s okay.  I am here to remind you that it’s still there.  I am here to catch your fall, and lift you up again.
Please don’t forget yourself.  I know that you are hurting, my love. And I am here to listen.
Soon enough tomorrow will bring a new day along with the promise of a new start. Hold on. Don’t give up.  I know you want to -give up.  I feel your sigh in my heart and hold your tears in my hands.  I know your heartbreak.  And please remember above all else, my darling, that I love you.  You are a lotus meant to bloom through this mud, and I know the incredible beauty of your soul.  It shines so bright it’s blinding.

Nurturing the Self
 
I love the theme of this newsletter, compassion for self.  In thinking of this, I am reminded of all the times that I did not have compassion for myself.  These were some of my darkest points of my life.  I felt as if I were a burden to others and had difficulty reaching out for support.  I would deny myself and others the gift of reciprocity.  I would certainly have been present for someone else who was struggling or experiencing despair.  Why would I not give this gift to myself?  Did I not deserve the same as others?

I remember a day a few years ago when I was sharing an office with a co-worker.  I was preparing a presentation and struggling with the technology.  I started fussing at myself, telling myself that I was an idiot.  My co-worker piped up and said, “Cheryl, please don’t talk to my friend that way”.  It had an impact.  I would never speak to any of my friends the way I was talking to myself.  Learning to be gentle with myself was a new and novel concept, but it has made a huge difference in how I feel.  All of us could use a little more self-compassion, self-love and self-nurturance.

What I know is that if I do not put my own oxygen mask on first I will not have much love or energy to provide support for others. A wonderful book, “Self-Compassion: The Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself” along with Dr. Kristin Neff’s website has wonderful guided imageries and tips to self-care. 

I have been nurturing myself here in the desert by practicing mindfulness as I spend time on my front porch with Watson and music, pruning the roses in the beautiful Kenyon Ranch rose garden and welcoming others to the Ranch for a variety of wonderful groups.  I have been making new friends and connecting with some of my old ones here in Arizona. 

We are so excited to be welcoming a full STAR group for our May retreat.  It was at STAR that I first began to understand that I too, deserve love, kindness and that I did not have to look outside of myself all of the time to find these gifts.  If you haven’t stopped to “remember to remember” in a while, please give yourself the gift of the present.

Peace and blessings to all,
Cheryl

On Being Seen & Heard
 
Reba Smith, M.S.
CEO, WingSpan Consulting

I’ve had the opportunity to be seen and heard by many wise, kind people in my adult life. There are two pieces of advice that have stood the test of time when I’m faced with a task that has the potential to undermine my confidence. The first is, “Go with what you know.” The second is, “Remember: You love these people.”  As I sit down to write for this newsletter, here is a taste of the maelstrom in which I have been operating for the past month: My impaired mother moving in with my son and I, travelling and presenting for work (imagine the most introverted person you know and place them in front of a lectern with a microphone), hosting my homeless ex-spouse while she grieves the loss of a beloved companion, navigating the sometimes lovely and sometimes ugly nuances of a new romantic relationship, and weathering the ups and down of personal and professional politics, injustices, and ignorance in my home town. I posted on Facebook the other day that life “ain’t for sissies”. And I meant it. 

You might be asking yourself what all this has to do with STAR. It’s simple, really. Do you see up there in the first paragraph? I learned a lot of what I ‘know’ from the STAR process. I came to STAR at a time in my life in which I was nearly disintegrated. I didn’t know much. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I didn’t know what ‘ok’ looked like or felt like. I didn’t have the internal resources to take care of myself. On the surface, my professional life looked decent, but I had the sense that it was about to implode. The stress was too great, my resources were too few. I went to STAR to get my life together. It wasn’t magic. It was a lot of hard work. But I learned the key to ‘ok’. I remember sitting in the lodge in a circle with all these people I didn’t know and one of the facilitator said, “Our job is just to love you while you’re here. And we will do that well.”  I got a healthy dose of love, and respect, and a container for all my disintegrated parts.

When I left STAR, I wanted to know more, so I took a deep dive into attachment theory, prenatal psychology, and interpersonal neurobiology*. And that’s where that second piece of advice falls into place.  The key to being ‘ok’ is love; the unqualified acceptance of another’s personhood and the investment of attuning yourself with another person in a safe way. Now, as life dishes out these substantive challenges, I know I need to connect with someone. To fill myself up by filling another person up, the way I was filled.  As my everyday work now allows me to help create this reality for people, agencies, and systems of care, I always remember that I got this from STAR and Kenyon Ranch. My life is better. I know what ‘Ok’ looks like now. And I am deeply grateful.

*Here are some links to great resources for these topics:
Dan Siegel, UCLA : "On Optimal Attachment"
Stephen Porges, UNC, Greensboro: "The Polyvagal Theory"