Like many around the world, I am saddened, but not shocked, by the assassination of Benazir Bhutto.  Since her return to Pakistan this fall, I kept asking myself, “is this really worth your life?”

Last night, I saw part of an interview she did with NBC’s Ann Curry, where Ann posed the same question.  I guess on some level I wasn’t surprised by her answer.  She appeared to have a very strong love for her country and a desire to create a system that worked for all.  Her commitment to her people, her belief in something better was to her, worth dying for.

I began to wonder do I believe in anything so strongly?  Am I committed to anything or anyone that I’d be willing to give up my life?

Of course, I would sacrifice my life for my daughter and husband.  I guess most of us have a “someone” we would die for.   But would we die for a stranger, a belief or cause?  Would we choose death so that others we don’t even know could have a better life?

Would I choose death so that I could have a better life?

Over the past several years, much of the life I once had has fallen away.  I know longer enjoy the level of material wealth I once had.  As my business floundered and the bills mounted, my self-confidence sunk to an all-time low.  (And that was saying something.) Friends that I thought were close have long since disappeared.  In fact, my life today bears little resemblance to what it looked like some 5 years ago, when I ventured off to NYC and is even unrecognizable to the life I was living when I finally mustered the courage to leave my corporate job just 2 short years ago.

In a sense, I have died.  The Lisa that once was has been dying a long, slow and sometimes very painful death.  But dead, she is.

I was aware that the choice to be on my own was, for me, a choice between life and death.  I was rotting away in my corporate job.  From my 1st day, I knew I didn’t belong there.  Almost 15 years later, even as my soul cried out for peace and my body ached from a never-ending list of sicknesses , I still pressed on.  Until one day, the voice screamed so loudly that I couldn’t ignore it.  “NO MORE.  Today IS the day.”  And on August 8, 2005, I updated the resignation letter that had been sitting on my hard drive for 2 years, and chose death. 

 So that I could live. 

I didn’t realize then that death meant giving up old beliefs.  Relationships.  Material possessions.  In order for me to LIVE, I had to be willing to give up what had really been killing me all along.  The beliefs that I deserved to be treated poorly, that I was stupid, fat, ugly, a “sinner”, blah blah blah.   Not one of those beliefs would serve me when I left what I called “hell.”

But hell was waiting outside as well.

When you decide to let go of the old and embrace something new, the ”old” gets pissed off.  It’s comfortable and has enjoyed it’s fat, dumb and happy existence in your life for a long time.

The old and new can’t co-exist well in the same space.  The old gets jealous ’cause it’s threatened.  And it starts one hell of fight to stay in the space it has claimed.  Just like the riots and the outrage in Pakistan since Mrs. Bhutto’s assassination, ”all hell broke loose” in my life as well.

Death often brings out the worst, so that the best can emerge.

Mrs. Bhutto gave her life for a better Pakistan.  We may not see that for years to come, but it will emerge.  People who never knew that they could stand up and be heard will do so, because silence isn’t an option for them anymore.  Just like it wasn’t for her.

As I emerge from my own hell, I see death differently.  I no longer see the resulting chaos as something to avoid and be afraid of.  Yes, it’s dark at times.  The pain and fear can be overwhelming–almost crippling.  But if you can hang on, believing in something greater for your life, you’ll make it.  And the new life that’s waiting is better than anything you could possibly imagine.  Silence is no longer an option for me, either.  And I’ve never felt more alive.

There is an old saying “that we must be willing to let go of the person we are, so that we can become the person we are meant to be.”

Are you willing to die, so that you can live? 

You won’t be alone.  I promise.   There is much love for you here.

If I see one more article about holiday stress I think I may scream!!!!!!!!!

Yep, I’m caught in the trap of automatically reacting to something.

Sound familar?

Like everything, the “holiday season” is but an illusion.  Did you have any say into this idea that from Halloween until New Year’s that you were supposed to run around like a chicken with your head cut off trying to buy the ”right” gifts, food, decorations..and so on and so on???

Did anyone ask your input into whether Dec 25 was a better day for you than say, August 2?  

And how about the turkey and the pig?  Did anyone ask their opinion about being served up in excess come the end of the year? 

Well, no one asked me.  So for me and my family, we do what we choose.

My father died on what’s known in this country as “black Friday.”  On the day that millions of people are trampling each other to spend money they don’t have on stuff that no one really NEEDS, I was saying good-bye to my Daddy.  I was 24 and got my first lesson in perspective and choice.

Had I waited until Christmas to buy something for my dad or show up at the house ’cause we “had” to,  I’d have been S.O.L.  Christmas didn’t come for Daddy that year. 

Why do we wait until some arbitrary day on the calendar to show appreciation?  Because the retailers tell us to?

I don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day–my husband and I tell each other every day how much we love and appreciate the other.

I don’t get wrapped up in birthdays or anniversaries–the next one isn’t always promised, so we celebrate our family in little ways.  Dinners out at someone’s favorite restaurant, gifts “just because”, vacations and short get-a-ways, because life’s simply too short.

Showing love and appreciation doesn’t require good credit or lots of cash.  Nor do you prove your love by the amount of stress and strain that you put forth in creating the “perfect” meal or holiday party or buying your kid something because “everyone else has it.”

The only person asking you to do, do, do, is YOU.  If you didn’t lift a finger or spend a dime, it wouldn’t make you any less the magnificent creation that you are. 

If what you are doing doesn’t create peace–STOP.  Otherwise, please keep your complaining about how stressful this time of year is to yourself.

Your stress is self-inflicted. 

Choose peace.

I was posting on another blog and read another reader’s comment about life.  They wrote, “life is hard, it’s supposed to be.”

huh?

Now I admit that I used to take great pleasure in telling people “nothing’s ever come easy to me.”  Like most people of color raised in the church, we have been led to believe that there is something noble in struggling.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve  heard, “the reward is on the other side.”

bullshit.

A belief is nothing more than a thought that you think over and over.  So to change a belief, you change your thoughts, right?

So I began to believe that struggling/suffering was OPTIONAL.  A coach I knew used to ask, “how easy can you stand it?”  Indeed.

If our life is or appears easy, what does that say about us?  Am I less “black” because I haven’t struggled?  Am I less a woman because my husband treats me like a queen?  Am I somehow unworthy because my child is a ”good kid” who has good manners and doesn’t act like the “typical” 16 year old teenager?

What if we challenged the cliche, “no pain, no gain?”  What if we’ve been fed a bunch a lies about life being hard, paying our dues, etc. etc. etc.?

What if the experience of our life is based on what we believe we deserve?  Not what THEY think we deserve, but what YOU think you deserve?

My truth:  I deserve EASE, PEACE & FLOW.

enuf said. 

How’ bout you?

Change the way you look at things and the things you look at change-dr. wayne dyer

My friend, coach and mentor, Jenny wrote a post on her blog about The American Dream.  Jenny and I are on a similar journey–she calls it “peeling back the layers” and I call it “removing the mask”.  In the end, we are talking about the same thing–expressing our Divine Uniqueness.  Thank you, Jenny for being YOU and teaching me how to play.

Here are my thoughts in response to her entry:

News flash:  WHO YOU ARE is MORE THAN ENOUGH.

Where did we go wrong? As I sat down to write this morning, I was struck by the cliche, “we are the typical American family.”  In my head, the words we’re screaming, “WHAT DOES THAT MEAN AND WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO BE?”

There’s a boarding school in the Northeast with the slogan, “In a world that wants you to fit in, we teach you to stand out.”  I know what they are trying to get across, but in our culture, “standing out” is all about the list of accomplishments: house, job, trophy wife/rich husband, degrees, cars, etc. 

Now I am beginning to understand why I have always been attracted to people who are “real.”  Standing out, to me, means being and living the unique expression of God/dess that is YOU.  If the Creator wanted clones, exact replicas, why didn’t S/He create nothing but trees??   As we look at the diversity of life in our world, why do we still choose to be like everyone else? The tulip doesn’t try to be a rose, the dog doesn’t try to be frog.  Why then, do we insist on being like the Jones when that choice is crushing our spirits?

That choice of trying to be like everyone else almost cost me my life.  And although living my truth in the past has been difficult, I intend now that life is actually easier when I embrace and express my uniqueness.

Will you join me?  Come out and play as YOU.  At this party, no masks are allowed.

Rockin’ in paradise….

The Resident Diva

Many of us are familar with that old song by “JT”–James Taylor to you young’uns.  I used to love the song because for years, I always felt supported and never had to look far for a shoulder to lean on.

My perception of that support has changed in recent years.  My husband and I made decisions that took us to NYC after 9/11, leaving many of our small town friends wondering if we’d lost our minds.  I couldn’t understand why ”they” couldn’t get or why they were so hesitant to take risks.

When we returned, naturally, our view of the world had changed.  So did our social circle.  We didn’t understand “them” any more than they understood us and over the past few years, we have found ourselves more and more isolated.  To be honest, I don’t believe I even have 5 people I could call upon in crisis.  We’ve gone without food, phones, even power and have endured almost every crisis alone.

That’s one of the curses of the mask–pride.  Most of us are so concerned with what other people think, that we’ll do anything to keep up appearances.  We suffer in silence or struggle unnecessarily instead of taking off the mask and letting people see us in pain.

As I said good-bye to my husband for yet another 2 week stretch, I cried and cried wondering if our lives would ever be “normal” again.  Would we ever again have friends we could count on?  Would we ever again be able to do the things we love to do instead of working ’round the clock to keep from slipping back into the darkness?

Then I came home to my email.  My friend and colleague had redesigned my blog as a gift.  Even though I begged her not to spend a lot of time on it, she gave of her time and talent freely, so that she could give me a design that met my needs.  She refused to let me “just get by” and suffer in silence.   She saw to it that my blog would be more than enough.

What if in wearing our mask we block the very blessings we so desire from getting through?  What if we could make our needs known, openly?  What if we would ask for help when we need it?  What if our mask keeps us from having ALL our needs, no matter what they are, met abundantly?  What if in taking the mask off we discover that suffering is indeed OPTIONAL??? 

“You just call out my name and you know wherever I am, I’ll come running…”

Indeed, you’ve got a friend.  Remove the mask and make the call.

WE WEAR THE MASK

by: Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906)

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes–
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us while
We wear the mask.

We smile, but oh great Christ, our cries
To Thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!

“We Wear the Mask” is reprinted from The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar. Paul Laurence Dunbar. New York: Dodd, Mead, and Co., 1913.

I read this poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar,  when I was no more than 7 or 8 years old.  Even at that age, it had a significant impact on my psyche.  I grasped the meaning and knew that even then, I was hiding myself from the world.

Some 30+ years later, the poem’s words continue to haunt me.  I see the mask of my clients, my neighbors, our politicians..and of course, my own. 

I, for one, have grown tired of hiding.  I’m tired of pretending that everything is alright when it doesn’t feel that way.  I’m tired of not speaking my truth-mostly to myself-about what works and doesn’t work for me.  The mask is heavy and today, it no longer fits.

I am ready for the world to see me…as I am.  And to discover, what life would be like if we all began to show up without our masks. 

I look forward to seeing my beauty and yours.

Finally free,

Lisa