I’m Not Who I Appear to Be on Facebook

Posted on by Meredith

I was deeply disturbed by a Facebook memory that popped up on my feed the other day.

It was a gushing post (of mine) about gratitude… complete with photos of a gaggle of girls smiling…. eating something fabulous, of course.

It included hash tags about laughing and emoji hearts.

I remember that weekend well. But not because of the laughing.

It’s seared in my mind as one of the more painful weekends I can recall.

Several of my closest friendships were disintegrating. My core beliefs about myself and the world were quickly falling apart. I was promoting an event I felt super conflicted about. And every other meal ended up with salty tears doing the major seasoning of my food.

In all that confusion… I appear to have put on a great big smile, added emojis and told a surface level story instead.

Sure, I do love that city. Sure, the food there was great. But I was also miserable on that trip.

I see that post and my heart breaks. For me. For the image I was so carefully defending.

But also for everyone else who saw that post. One more post that perpetuated the bubble of half truths and refrigerator magnet joy, so often seen bouncing around the social media world.

The truth is… I couldn’t have captured the whole story in a post, even if I had wanted to. It was complicated. And messy. And not actually appropriate for mass consumption at that time anyway.

I don’t judge that I put it up.

But it was only, ever, a small part of the truth. I think we need to remember that.

Two people have written on my wall recently that I remind them of a Disney princess.

This is not good.

If I give this impression.

It’s lovely. But it’s just not real.

And thus, I think, it’s worth expounding upon:

The reason I post about my animals so much lately, is not because I think I am an amazing princess animal whisperer.

It’s because the phase I am in right now is so deeply raw and human and tender that I have nothing much else to say.

So I connect to you through the creatures around me. Who happen to be quite cute. And who do indeed bring me joy.

This post is not to invoke sympathy. I’m fine. I’m growing. In many ways, I’m great.

But if I have ever given you the impression my life is perfect…

It’s just not.

It’s full of questions,

and uncertainty,

and sadness.

Full of simplicity, and surrender, and unused drive.

Full of beauty and growing authenticity and the grittiest kind of love.

But slim on answers,

on direction,

And (hallelujah, finally, even) advice.

It was not my intention to turn this phase into having the appearance of a fairytale. I have just required a lot of solitude. A lot of reflection. A lot less sharing. A lot more grace.

I get it can be so easy to scroll through a feed and think you have a sense of who is living the good life. And why.

I suppose I just wanted to remind us all, that a smiling photo, matching family Easter dresses, a trek through Spain, whatever it may be…

All that we share…

… is really only, ever, always,

one part of the truth.

It’s all it can be.

We are complicated.

As you scroll… tread lightly on judging yourself.

My Unrealistic Expectations About Learning

Posted on by Meredith

So I just finished writing a paper for this class I’m taking.  It’s a masters level course on quantum physics, science and spirituality…

And it has been freaking hard! I mean… brain numbing, what?!?!

Just about every day in the first 5 weeks my strategic plan was to drop the class. But just as I was emailing my professor, I flashed back on this silly moment.  And it stopped me in my tracks. 

Last year I went on a trip through the South with a friend of mine.  He’s a Harvard lawyer and a concert violinist.  

One evening, over dinner, he mentioned to me that he does yoga every morning, even when he’s traveling.  Impressed, I asked if I could join him.

“Sure!”  He said.  “I’m not that great, but you are welcome to!”

The next morning, I put on my yoga clothes and claimed a three foot crevice on the corner of his hotel room floor. For the next hour and a quarter, Greg led us through a full length Ashtanga class.

His focus was absolutely unwavering, his breath was solid, he knew the sequence top to bottom, but what surprised me the most was… Greg was actually pretty bad!  His flexibility was minimal, his postures relatively poor…

Now I know you are thinking, “what kind of person judges someone’s yoga practice!? Don’t you go straight to hell for that!?” But I honestly wasn’t being super judgy. I was just surprised.

The truth is, I had just never seen Greg be bad at anything.  He speaks some half dozen languages, his speeches make you want to rise to your feet and cheer, his tinkering on my piano sounds like a world class concert (and that’s not even his instrument).

I realized I had a strange expectation that anything he approached he should just be incredible at.  

After breakfast I confessed to him my weird experience that morning on his floor.

What he said was so simple.  It is forever melded in my brain.

“You know most people have totally unrealistic expectations about learning.  They want to learn a new language or get in shape, and when it doesn’t happen seemingly overnight, they are already disappointed.

Being a concert violinist at a young age, I learned HOW to learn anything.  Because you practice for hours and hours and hours… and every day you get the tiniest most infinitesimal amount better.  It happens so slowly that you can’t even notice the improvement.  But then, over months and years, you improve.

It turns out Greg had just discovered Ashtanga a few months ago.  He loved it.  So he learned the routine and did it literally every morning.  And he didn’t worry about if he was doing it right. He just did whatever bits he knew how to do today.  He figured some time he’d be in a class and a teacher would correct something and he’d just get better tiny inch by inch.

That was how he approached everything.  If there was anything he wanted to learn, he just learned it.  Slowly.  Like he had learned the violin.

I thought about all the things I said I wanted to be good at but I’d actually just never put in the time.

Real time. No judgment of self kind of time. There were a lot.

I didn’t drop my quantum physics class. Because hard or not, I actually wanted to know it.

Instead, I read the chapter again.

And again.

I called a classmate and asked her some questions.  

I bought another book. Watched a youtube video. And then I read the lectures yet again.

The real problem was not that my class was impossible. The real problem was that I had expected to understand it the first time through.  I wanted to already know what I wanted to learn.

This year has been filled with learning for me. I let go of the woman who ran our stable and learned how to take care of our horses myself. It’s not that hard. But it’s a little hard. I did have to learn.

We got a freight farm and I let a bunch of plants die. Getting the hang of the technology and basics of growing isn’t impossible, but we did have to figure it out. We aren’t great at it yet, but every harvest the plants look and taste a little better.

And this master program… well I entered it because I had questions about things, not because I already knew.  

Perhaps it’s ok that it’s hard.  

Perhaps I’m not going to know until AFTER I put in the work.

It just made me wonder…

What do you want to be good at?

Would you be willing to be terrible at it first?

To learn the language with poor grammar? To play the chords slowly?  To put on the yoga clothes and let your form be all kinds of “oops”?  

Maybe that’s how we’re actually meant to learn.

I’ll tell you one thing— I’m going on another trip with Greg. I actually left this morning and am writing from the airport. And you know what I’m certain I can count on? His yoga will have improved by leaps and bounds!

My Slightly Scandalous Marriage

Posted on by Meredith

Yesterday was my 5 year anniversary.

The other day I put up some slightly sappy sentiments on Facebook about it, which you are more than welcome to read.

But while I’m being sentimental… I have one more thing to say…

Dudes!

Ron is 29 years older than me.

29!

When we met that seemed scandalous to both of us.

Our second date the sweet old lady selling us museum tickets looked up from the counter and asked “is that one student and one senior?”

(Bless her heart.)

I’m not going to lie… there were things about that fact that were complicated. Kids, friends, perceptions.

But a scandal is almost always about what other people think. It’s never about what is true for you.

This life we are in… it is so full of conditioning that we often don’t even see it.

Have kids, settle down, find your passion, make something of yourself, don’t rock the boat, be yourself (the reasoned social media acceptable version of course!)

We start doing those things without even questioning if they are actually part of our path. If they have anything to do with what will make us uniquely filled up.

What do you know?

What works for you?

What would you like to create?

And who would you like to have along for the ride in what ways?

I like Ron. He’s kind of awesome. And uniquely kind. I got my life would be a greater adventure with him in it.

What if it could be that simple?

People will talk. People always talk.

While they talk, why not take a brave step forward with creating that life that is ravishingly yours and wonder full?

Every time I make a choice where that is the criteria… I’m glad I did.

Then just be kind and smart and present… Cause you’ll sort out the rest as you go.

Losing My Love. But Worth It.

Posted on by Meredith

I know it’s Mother’s Day.  And this is a sad story.  But it is also a story about being a mom. 

And a love that took me by surprise.  

If there is anything you have ever lost that you loved, I thought you might relate to my yesterday.

See the other night we had a thunderstorm.

I thought “I should go check on the babies.” And then I fell right back asleep. 

In the morning I could not find baby Rumi. Then I saw a hay bale in their fort that had been pushed about 6 inches out from the wall.

Rumi was down in the crack… upside down between the hay bale and the wall.

I can only imagine the babies got scared from the thunder and piled on top of each other (as they do) and Rumi got crammed down in the crack and couldn’t get back up.

I pulled him up and he was still warm, but not breathing. We tried all the things you try. Pumping his heart. A sort of goat CPR.

Panic. Shock. Desperation.

Baby was really truly gone.

And while many of the thoughts rolling through my head include phrases like:

— “I should have…”
— “If I’d only…”
— and “Why this one?”
​​​​​​​
My main question today is actually about love. What do we do with those moments of love that change us? Do we just be grateful for them and let them go? Do we let them haunt us? Do we bathe in them? Learn from them? Hold them lightly?

You see, Rumi was not just one of six little goats.  He was my wise little mystic.  There was no hiding that he was my favorite. Rumi was just pure love.

I slept with him in the hay. Fed him bottles. Nursed him back to health one scary night after he had found and nibbled on a toxic bush.   In a few short weeks he prodded open a very tender part of my heart.

In in turn, he returned to me just peaceful… open… sweet love.

I am so aware that I could do so many things with my sorrow. I could say I don’t want any goats. I could stop loving the other babies. I could say “it’s only a goat” and move on with my day.

Or I can just let that love wash over me. And that sorrow wash over me. And sit quietly in the grateful complicated mess of it all.

We all have loss.  

All day I have gotten messages, incredibly sweet messages, from people who have lost their pets or their children or their spouses.  Notes of beauty and caring and grief. 

We don’t choose what we lose.  But we do participate in how it shapes us.

Do we love less or more? Do we care more or less? Does it break us open or closed?

I don’t know what it is you have lost.  Lost your love? Lost your way? Lost your faith? Lost your parents? Lost your friend? Lost your dreams? 

I wonder…. How will that loss shape your future? Shape your heart? Shape your day? 

Today, I will cry until I’m ready to stop. 

I will celebrate this little goat man who passed too quickly through my life.

I will go plant a field of wildflowers and invite him to stay in my life.  

And then I will wonder who else I can love like that. Tenderly. Bigly.

Rumi, I will miss you so very much. I really am so very sorry you had to go so soon. But I thank you for coming in the first place. It was truly a gift to be your mom.

Happy Mother’s Day to all.  Be it a day of great joy or a day of deep sorrow.  

You are loved.
You are love.
You get to love. 

As the saying goes, you know that “better to have love and lost” one…

It is worth it.

Tenderly,
Blossom

P.S.  Warning: this video is a bit sad, but I was truly captivated by how my dog Milo responded to losing his friend.  If there was any way to bring baby back to life, Milo would have found it. He licked and prodded and whined desperately until the very last moment Rumi was blanketed with earth. What truly incredible creatures.

I Used to Roll my Eyes at All These Things

Posted on by Meredith

Once again, it’s been months since I’ve written. I just go through these phases where I can’t.

It’s as if my system is still decompressing from decades of pressure cooking. Of doing and moving and achieving and hustling.

So while I used to be highly motivated to send consistent blogs and memes and social updates… with the exception of those moments when I feel truly inspired… I’ve just let it all take a big exhale.

I’m finding I’m just not willing to force anything anymore. At all.

My requests this year have been:

– To truly see (truth, beauty, who I am, what is).
– To connect with and amplify the voice of my own knowing.
– And to let go of everything that doesn’t serve me.

It wasn’t until I slowed down that I realized the insanity of how I had been running my life. What I thought mattered. Whose beliefs were dictating how I was using my sweet (numbered) days.

I’ve been doing a lot of things lately I’ve spent my life rolling my eyes at. The hippy dippy stuff. Not only meditation but also…

Inner child work. (seriously!?)
Forgiveness stuff (boooooring)
Delving into some really old anger. (Man, do I have some anger!)
Sitting with sadness.
Creating space for the divine.

The thing is, it actually hasn’t been boring or icky at all. It just feels required. Overdue. Life giving. Human.

It purges out of me.

It makes me feel less on a pedestal and separate from everyone and more an actual person, who can create space and be present and care.

Today I woke up and I wanted to write to you.  I wanted to write to you because the deeper I get into my own process, the more think I about you and yours.

It is a strange journey… this being human thing.

And I am continuously grateful to be along for some small portion with YOU. 

So…

– What is one thing you can do today to nourish yourself?
– What have you labeled “productive” or “unproductive” that maybe isn’t serving you?
– Is there anything you have rolled your eyes at that might actually contribute to you?
– Whose beliefs are dictating your goals or how you spend your time?

Take your shoes off and walk over the frosty grass.

Go hold cats at the humane society for an afternoon.

Make that fresh ginger tea and take a decadent 30 minutes watching the birds while you drink it.

Enjoy whatever phase you are in. The messy one. The revealing one. The charged up conquer the world one.

Allow yourself to fall apart. Or fall together. Or be changed from within.

At least that’s what I’m doing right now.

And it has been alarmingly good.

Much love to you this beautiful day, 
Blossom

P.S. I have 6 baby pygmy fainting goats joining my family next Saturday. I thought you might “need” to see their sweet little faces. Hard to hang out with these little dudes without a smile. 🙂

Reading Rumi & Being

Posted on by Meredith

Reading Rumi—

This morning I woke up anxious and deeply sad.

I used to do all sorts of things about that. To change it. Used specific methods to make it go away.

Today I sat with it and watched the snow fall.

Then I went down to my sauna and sat in the dark. A meditation and prayer.

As I settled into an eventual stillness, I picked up Rumi to join me.

Rumi and I laugh a lot. We weep. We sigh. We fill back up.

I thought there was nothing better on a snowy Sunday afternoon than to invite you to tea with Rumi.

May I read to you for a bit?

I love this man.

A Room of One’s Own

Posted on by Meredith

The unveiling of my darling, impractical, delightful new creation.

A tiny room that makes me unspeakably happy.

A writing/ library room of my own.

There has been something so very life giving for me this year in purging and decluttering and filling the new spaces with things I find truly beautiful.

Things that I love.

The room is my gift from me to me. A creative space of my very own.

Is there a space that you could add to your life this year that would amp up your creativity, your relaxation or simply increase your capacity to breathe?

Or maybe you have a space that you just need to declutter and fill back up with beauty and love so it can nourish you rather than drain you?

There is so much to be said for the objects we surround ourselves with. For the spaces we create and how they make us feel.

May 2018 be a year of beauty and filling up rather than excess and frenzy.

May 2018 be a year of nourishing spaces, from you to you.

Including Inmates in Your Merry Season

Posted on by Meredith

Warning: I’m going to gush about a man today.

The first time I heard Bryan Stevenson speak was last summer at a leadership event. By the end of his speech I was on my feet, both incredibly moved by his story, and also incredibly shocked by my ignorance.

I heard him again last weekend at a service. And dudes! Get his book. Just Mercy. You will be so glad you read it!

He’s a ninja of kindness and tenacity (also a lawyer) who is working to make huge changes in the (deeply broken) prison systems in America.

He’s also an INCREDIBLE speaker!

You can watch a version of his talk here.

What’s been circling in my head this week since hearing him is…

2.3 million people are spending this holiday season incarcerated. And as many kids, spending Christmas without those parents.

I know… the prisons… one more broken thing to be overwhelmed by…

Or…

One more chance to lean in. To get close to a topic. To learn about something. And to wonder about what else it could look like and to care.

So I started wondering…

How can I include inmates in my holiday this year?

In my thoughts?
In my list of things I send warmth and love to in my meditations or prayers?
In my gift giving?

Did you know if you google prison penpal, there are many ways to send prisoners letters?

And that Angel Tree is a really cool organization getting gifts to prisoners’ kids?

What gift could you be in a stranger’s life? Especially one the world has kind of forgotten about?

I was really touched someone brought this to my mind last week.

And thus, I bring it to yours.

We have so much. Where else can we a spread a bit of that joy? And what gift might that unleash in your own heart as well?

(And read that book! Just Mercy. Seriously, it’s so good!)

Glorious & Wretched: Including It All

Posted on by Meredith

A friend sent me an email the other day. She’s having a really hard time right now. She moved to Europe and is struggling with her family, with feeling alone, with finances crumbling, and plans not going as planned.

But even more, she’s struggling with not having it all together.

I think that’s one of the big lies we feed each other. That we should have it all together. That life should always be glorious. That something is wrong if it is not.

Another friend sent me this poem by Pema Chödrön the other day that has struck me deeply with revelations about myself.

May I share it with you?

LIFE IS BOTH WRETCHED AND GLORIOUS
By Pema Chödrön

Life is glorious, but life is also wretched. It is both. Appreciating the
gloriousness inspires us, encourages us, cheers us up, gives us a bigger
perspective, energizes us. We feel connected.

But if that’s all that’s happening, we get arrogant and start to look down
on others, and there is a sense of making ourselves a big deal and being
really serious about it, wanting it to be like that forever. The gloriousness
becomes tinged by craving and addiction.

On the other hand, wretchedness–life’s painful aspect–softens us up
considerably. Knowing pain is a very important ingredient of being there
for another person. When you are feeling a lot of grief, you can look right
into somebody’s eyes because you feel you haven’t got anything to lose–
you’re just there.

The wretchedness humbles us and softens us, but if we were only
wretched, we would all just go down the tubes. We’d be so depressed,
discouraged, and hopeless that we wouldn’t have enough energy to eat
an apple.

Gloriousness and wretchedness need each other. One inspires us, the
other softens us. They go together.

This year I have been looking deeply at the fact that I have lived most of my life focusing entirely on the gloriousness. Sweeping the wretched out of sight.

“We get arrogant and start to look down on others.” I had.

This last year has rocked my world and knocked me off kilter. My first walloping dose of wretchedness in a long time.

And in this intensity, as Pema predicts, I found myself more real.

More humble.

More willing to sit with people who are in pain and not have to spoon out platitudes, fix it or help them figure it out.

I started to see all the fake both around me and even within me. First with judgment. Then with sadness. Then with a touch of grace. And curiosity for what is beyond that falseness and those barriers and walls.

I found myself drawn to people I had written off. And broken open by things I cannot change. Also comforted by things I would have found unproductive or worthless before.

As I have sat with this energy (wondering dramatically if I would ever create anything ever again), I have realized that I will connect with the gloriousness as and when I am ready.

And slowly I have been becoming ready. And gloriousness is peeking into my space once again.

“The world needs real people.” I told my friend. “Even people who need help and don’t have it all together. Perhaps especially.”

What if it’s not just ok to have seasons of both, what if it’s actually required? What if it’s part of what gives us beauty and richness and depth? Dare I say, is sometimes deeply beneficial? And exceptionally real?

I do think there are shimmery things for us on the other side of hard. That doesn’t make them less brutal to be with.

And that doesn’t mean that the shimmery will be glorious. It might surprise us. We might shimmer with raw wretched aliveness for a time.

But I wonder… Couldn’t the world use more of that too?

A Whole Chapter About Not Judging (Hidden in the Bible)

Posted on by Meredith

So the other day I got into a particularly precarious conversation with a group of people I really respect who have a very different opinion of what I think is a pretty important, humanitarian topic.

It was a predominantly Christian group of people and the conversation was about how the Bible called us to handle this particular thing.

Now I haven’t actually read the Bible thoroughly. Maybe like 20% if I’m being generous with myself.

But I had a pretty strong opinion on this point.

“I really just think that if we are talking about loving each other, the commandment of Jesus, the first thing we are called to do is not judge each other.” I said. “I just cannot see how it is our job to judge.”

My theological argument pretty much ended there.

With a piddly “You know, judge not, lest ye be not judged” thrown in for good measure.

Everyone nodded politely.

But I KNEW this was a key. And that there must be more than that.

So fast forward a week.

And randomly I pick up the Bible and start reading Romans. A book I have never read.

And I get to chapter 14 and my jaw drops.

The whole freaking chapter is about how we are not to judge our neighbors.

How we are to support them in doing what they believes connects them to god.

The whole freaking chapter!

It’s kind of about food. But it’s about WAY more than food.

To me it is about everything. About condemning each other for the way another worships or expresses herself or loves or interprets her own whispers from whatever name she have given any presence bigger than herself.

I’ll read you parts of it in this video. Because it is so good!

It says:

“Always receive them as friends, but not for the purpose of passing judgment on their scruples.”

and…

“Nothing is defiling in itself. A thing is defiling only to the person who holds it to be so.”

and…

“Happy is the person who never has to condemn himself in regard to something he thinks is right.”

I am in love with Romans 14 today.

And I continue to remain passionate about the idea that if we are to bring light and beauty onto this earth, that one of our core jobs is to give up judgment of each other.

To listen to the whispers in our own hearts and souls and minds and to honor others by allowing and inviting and even celebrating that they are doing the same.

As we jump into holiday parties and gatherings and difficult family conversations… what if we kept this in mind?

What if we focused on judging each other less? And loving each other more?