Yesterday I saw someone I hadn’t seen in years. Someone with whom I once had an uneasy relationship. Someone I was forced to work with and would not have chosen as a friend. Someone I didn’t respect. Someone whose sight and voice used to raise my hackles. In other words, my behavior was stuck to hers. In her presence I wasn’t my best self; I was someone I didn’t even like–almost as if my dislike of her reflected back to me in dislike of myself.

But I’ve learned to respect other people’s right to live their lives as they please. So yesterday I was able to be comfortable as I had a polite conversation with her. My hackles weren’t raised. My self-righteous judgment didn’t emerge. I kept the focus on why I had come to that event and didn’t allow myself to be pulled off course.

Make a list of the people in your life who pull you off course. In the second column, write what happens to you in their presence. In the third column, write how you truly want to be. Finally, write an intention to be the person you truly want to be. It might go something like this: I am my relaxed, calm, best self, trusting that the best thing will happen for me. True to myself, I am unstuck from every other person’s presence and behavior.

I wish I had learned this lesson earlier in my life.

After my last post, one of my faithful readers asked this question: “What do you suggest for those of us who don’t have the money for two weeks in Europe or two weeks anywhere at the moment? My question – and the one that applies to most people on the planet – is how do we find ‘relief from the struggle’ right where we are, doing what we have to do to make a living or care for a relative or children?”

I found an answer to his question in a book I’m reading right now, Combat Crew by John Comer. By the way, it’s a good read before you see the new movie “Red Tails.”

In this journal from a man in the thick of WWII air combat I found these words: “On days we weren’t flying, . . . there developed for me a new pleasure in simple things. . . . One achieves an exalted state of existence only at rare moments. The rest of life is the daily sequence of one small insignificant thing followed by another. If one stands aloof waiting for another mountaintop experience, and fails to find zest in the small matters that comprise most of life, he or she will miss a majority of the best life has to offer.”

I love that word “zest.” Maybe the one small thing someone does today is put lemon zest on his salad. Or walk outside and look–really look–at the wonder of a tree or a flower. Or clean the leaves off the deck or plant a flower.

Many are the years I spent in worry, checking off lists, and going through life without noticing the wonders all around me. Many are the days when I pushed myself unmercifully and terrified myself with my thinking. That’s why today I write about relief from suffering.

Someone told me once that suffering is caused from our own resistance, and I agree. Suffering lives in the mind. Spending even five minutes in silence, focused on what you are grateful for, is like giving the mind a nice warm bath. It refreshes. It costs nothing. It’s renewing. It’s relief from struggle.

My husband and I just returned from two weeks in Europe–one week in Cyprus and one in Croatia. These destinations are off the beaten track for Americans; in fact, we saw only one other American family during the entire two weeks.

When we travel, we don’t go on tours. Instead, we get maps and books and decide, one day at a time, what we will do. I call this wayfinding–letting one thing naturally lead to the next, open for discovery. Our technology didn’t work well, so we were completely unplugged–no phone, no internet, little English language TV. A beautiful head-clearing. A wonderful re-connection with each other. Nothing to tie us to the everyday lives we live here in Austin.

Greek mythology has it that Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, was born from the Mediterranean sea crashing ashore near the place where we stayed. So I set an intention for the trip to become more open for love.

For two weeks I was set free from judgment. People I encountered were speaking other languages; I couldn’t understand what they were saying, so I didn’t judge whether or not I agreed. They were from different cultures, so I gave no thought to what they wore or how they looked. We were seeing wondrous, beautiful sights, and my heart was increasingly opening to the beauty, with each sight even more amazing than the last. Appreciation was my dominant emotion.

This is a gift of travel–seeing with new eyes. One of my teachers once said, “What you see is not what you’re looking at; it’s what you’re looking with. So let us look with eyes of love.”

It’s easier to look with eyes of love when I’m in a strange place. Now my intention is to be the me who was in Cyprus and Croatia when I’m in Austin in my everyday life.

Nancy’s book Journey from Head to Heart is available as an ebook through Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Links are below.

http://www.amazon.com/Journey-Head-Heart-Working-Authentically/dp/1932690433/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1317055134&sr=1-3

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/journey-from-head-to-heart-nancy-oelklaus/1018149687?ean=9781932690439&itm=2&usri=oelklaus

A women’s group I belong to has a potluck Christmas dinner every year in the same member’s spacious home. This year, however, our hostess had an unexpected death in the family, and two days before the event, we were without a place to have the party.

Fortunately, we have other members whose homes are large enough, and one of those agreed to be hostess.

It would have been so easy for the unexpected hostess to work herself into a frazzle preparing on such short notice and be a nervous wreck when the day of the event arrived.

Not so.

She was relaxed, at ease. She laughed a lot. There was no sense of nervousness at all. She gave all of us the gift of her gracious, relaxed presence.

As we draw close to Christmas Day, what presence are you giving your family? Your friends? Your guests?

My friend tells me she hasn’t always been this way–that she used to get very highstrung and perfectionistic. But she learned through the years that this is a better way.

Merry, enjoyable Christmas!

Nancy is taking two weeks off. The next newsletter you receive will be on January 9.

Since 1982 my husband has been collecting Waterford crystal ornaments. Faithfully, he has bought one a year, and I’ve had fun deciding how best to display them year after year.

Two years ago, after cruising through some decorating shops, I decided to hang these precious ornaments on some long, rubbery branches that I had placed in a tall white ceramic vase. I had weighted the bottom of the vase with black stones to secure the branches so they would stand.

After I had carefully placed each ornament, I stood back to admire what I had done. The vase needed straightening on the small table, so I reached out to re-arrange it. When I touched the vase, everything came crashing to the floor–branches, crystal, white pottery, and black stones, scattered everywhere.

Hearing the loud commotion, my husband came into the room. He said, “How can I help?” Shaken, I responded, “Just leave me alone right now.” He walked back out.

As gently as I could, I lifted the flexible branches with the crystal ornaments still attached, placing them softly on the dining room table. Then I cleaned up the mess–the shattered pottery, the stones.

I couldn’t even look at the crystal. I left it and went into the den to watch TV and get my mind off the disaster. When I sat down, my husband turned to me and said, “They’re just things. It doesn’t matter.” Both of us believed there had been a great loss.

The next morning, after a good night’s rest, I faced the branches on the dining room table and began removing, one by one, the ornaments. To my utter amazement, not one had been broken. No chips. No cracks. Not one. Truly, a gift.

But the greatest gift was my husband’s forgiveness and kindness.

Ten days before Christmas when my daughter was 16 months old, she became very ill during the night. First thing the following morning, we were at the pediatrician’s office. The doctor was puzzled by her symptoms. “I think it might be pneumonia,” he said. “If she isn’t better by early afternoon, call and I’ll admit her to the hospital.”

I looked down at my baby. She was listless and gray. I had never defied a doctor before, but this time my voice said, “I want this baby in the hospital now.” He agreed.

Around noon, a nurse came into her room to give my daughter a shot. She didn’t even flinch. Moments later, the doctor came in, said, “I’m going to do a spinal tap. It may be meningitis.” Quickly, they wheeled her out of the room.

Following the procedure, the doctor came to her father and me and said, “We have to grow the culture to be sure, but it’s clearly meningitis. I think we caught it early enough that she won’t have any permanent damage, if she lives.”

For the next 10 days, she lay listless in the hospital bed with tubes in her arms, under an oxygen tent. The few people who were allowed into the room had to wear a hospital gown and a mask. I rarely left her side. I was in constant prayer.

Slowly, very slowly, she began to respond. Her color returned. She moved. But mostly she slept. My hope increased.

On Christmas Eve, the doctor said, “She’s ready to come out.” He removed the oxygen tent and all the tubing. For the first time since the ordeal began, I was able to hold her, and it frightened me. She had lost muscle tone and felt like a large newborn in my arms. She couldn’t even hold her head up. But the doctor reassured me. “These little ones recover fast. She’ll be running down the hospital halls by the end of the day.” And he was right.

That night I slept soundly and didn’t hear the Christmas elf who tiptoed into the room to leave a red flannel stocking stuffed with plastic toys on the corner of my daughter’s bed.

I’m grateful for the vigilant nurse and the capable doctor. On that Christmas, I received the gift of my daughter for the second time. I’m also grateful for the quiet presence who left toys for the delight of a child. I believe in Christmas.

Nancy’s book Journey from Head to Heart is available as an ebook through Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Links are below.

http://www.amazon.com/Journey-Head-Heart-Working-Authentically/dp/1932690433/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1317055134&sr=1-3

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/journey-from-head-to-heart-nancy-oelklaus/1018149687?ean=9781932690439&itm=2&usri=oelklaus

For several years now, I just haven’t bought in to the frantic, anxiety-filled Christmas that so many people, from their conversation, seem to have. In fact, right now my car is filled with ornaments and decorations that I have decided to let go. They’re still good. In fact, they’re beautiful. But I’ve realized that I really don’t need three Christmas trees, and it’s okay for some table tops not to be decorated and candled.

Excess, even when beautiful, weighs me down. Only one tree is going up this year. It’s elegant and simple. It is enough.

My husband recently reminded me of a very joyous Christmas we spent together. We flew into New York City on Christmas Eve as dusk was falling. We checked into the hotel and then walked to Central Park as it began to snow. Few people were out. Just my husband and me and snowy beauty. A simple Christmas.

Nancy’s book Journey from Head to Heart is available as an ebook through Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Links are below.

http://www.amazon.com/Journey-Head-Heart-Working-Authentically/dp/1932690433/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1317055134&sr=1-3

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/journey-from-head-to-heart-nancy-oelklaus/1018149687?ean=9781932690439&itm=2&usri=oelklaus

Several years ago when I was going through a very stressful time, someone suggested to me that I make a gratitude list. Up until that time, my philosophy had been to expect the worst; that way, I was never disappointed. To shift from looking for problems to looking for blessings was a profound change for me.

Vividly I remember what that early list was like: I was grateful for gasoline and a car to drive. I was grateful for a friend who helped. It was autumn, and I was grateful for cool weather and nature’s beauty. I became conscious of being grateful.

Gradually, over time, as I practiced gratitude, my ability to appreciate my life increased. To my amazement, the quality of my life also improved.

This week we celebrate Thanksgiving–which for many people is about an abundance of food. This year I have decided to de-emphasize the food and focus instead on being thankful. Today I made a list of people I will call or write for no other reason than to tell them I’m grateful for their presence in my life.

I’m making gratitude a conscious practice. My goal is to tell every person with whom I interact, in person or via email, what I appreciate about them. That includes my husband–and you.

Thank you for reading these emails. It warms my heart and encourages me when you respond in writing or come up to me in a gathering and tell me that something I wrote was beneficial. I’m grateful for my readers. Have a gratitude-filled Thanksgiving!

The Penn State abuse scandal reminds us, once more, of the devastation that results when trust is broken and kept secret. We’re seeing vividly that when Truth is covered, darkness expands.

Thankfully, we’re also seeing that the power of Truth transcends both fame and shame. We long for Truth. Something deep within us cries out for it. Even if it takes years, decades, or lifetimes to come to light, when Truth surfaces, what follows our shock is relief.

As a person who experienced same-sex abuse by someone I trusted, I know that the resultant secret takes away emotional capacity. It separates us from ourselves and everyone else. We remain stuck between shock and woundedness. We build defenses, like calluses, that protect us from other potential abusers. These calluses also shield us from wonderful experiences with people who truly can be trusted–but we don’t trust. It’s too risky.

All lies separate people from themselves, which is the real tragedy.

So my blog today is not about sexual abuse. It’s about the abuse created by lies and the power of truth to heal.

I learned a long time ago that everyone has “stuff.” If you’re still lying about some of yours, set yourself free. Take a moment to write it out and then find a wise, trusted person–an empathetic, forgiving listener–to share it. Accept the healing that results.
Nancy Oelklaus teaches people to stop struggling and start living the lives they truly want to live.
www.HeadtoHeart.com -

Last week I did an energy analysis with a client and experienced, once more, the power of this simple tool to help people see how their own thinking and feeling can be a depletion. Truth sets us free, and once the truth is exposed, we are in a good position to be able to make changes that are good for us and that bring us closer to living the lives we truly want to live.

I myself fall prey to energy depletion occasionally. I become aware of it when I realize that I’m stressed or ill at ease. Once that awareness comes, the next step is to ask, “What am I thinking and feeling?”

It’s a temptation to explain away the depletion by saying, “Cloudy days get me down.” Or “I’m just tired from a busy week-end.”

But rigorous honesty is the pathway out of depletion. In my case, I have allowed myself to become very irritated by another person’s behavior. When that happens, I know I’m trying to control something that’s beyond my control–namely, another person. The futile struggle depletes my energy and leaves me exhausted.

Right now I’m living in the awareness of the exhaustion and what has caused it. Some people call the state I’m in “surrender” or “acceptance.” It’s a necessary stepping stone towards the return of the peaceful, happy state of mind I prefer to live in.

This transformation begins with awareness of personal energy. I recommend that you try this process for an energy boost!

Contact Nancy@HeadtoHeart.com for more information about the energy analysis.