Awakening

So often I get these questions from my clients - or even from friends, family, and myself...

What is the purpose of pain? 

What is the reason for hardship?  

Why must we struggle sometimes?

I don't know.  I have these on my list of things to ask Jesus when I get to Heaven.  That list is long.

But here's what I do know about those questions.  Pain, hardship, struggle don't have to overcome us. They can be part of a developmental process we must go through in order to be the truest and most beautiful version of ourselves.  If the caterpillar didn't struggle, it wouldn't become a butterfly.

So what would it look like to embrace pain?  To welcome hardship?  To lean into the struggle?  I'm not sure what that looks like for each person reading this.  But what is universal to everyone is that when we go to our deepest feelings - when we are forced to look at the most vulnerable parts of ourselves, we are AWAKENED. We free those painful parts from their bondage. And we become a victor rather than a victim to our circumstances. 

You have all heard me talk so much about our adoption process. I can't help it.  It's the season of my life that has taught me more than I ever wanted to know about pain, fear, disappointment, hardship, and struggle.  And as we near the end of waiting, I can review this journey as a true healing and anointing place in my life.  I am almost a butterfly version of myself.  And I like her so much more. I am awake.  I had to face these struggles to get to my truest SELF - and I still face struggles and still seek myself daily.  That is the promise of living.

So whatever "embracing your struggle" looks like, I want to share a poem I wrote this morning on a stormy day in Nashville:

Awakening
By: Laura Melrose Ramey

Good morning, day! Good morning, rain!
Can you see my sorrow and pain?
Can your dawn make something new?
Can your drops make my drops few?

Can you hear my shame-filled heart
Cry for cleansing and a fresh start?
Does your work carry dark and gloom?
Or can this downpour make beauty bloom?

I hear it play like music outside,
And I won't fear. I won't hide.
I can trust the sun will come again.
This rain, this day - they restore within.

So I listen and welcome you - oh, dark and dreary,
Because I know my soul won't always be weary.
You invite me to stillness while you pour out,
And I let go of fear, worry, and doubt.

I can find peace, although still shaken.
Because your song invites me to awaken.
Thank you, day! Thank you, rain!
For seeing and washing my sorrow and pain.

Mother Guilt

Recently a dear friend and fellow therapist put these questions out to a group of mamas..

What is your relationship with mother guilt?
How does she show up in your role as a mom?
How has it changed over time? Past, present and future ideas of guilt?
What is the message of your guilt?

And I put this assignment off for a very long time.  Ugh.  Mother guilt is the worst.  She says "I am not doing enough to get my kids home, and I am abandoning them."  Four years of waiting on my boys allows a lot of time for more guilt to pile up.  So I share this very vulnerable place in me with sincere hopes that it says to even just one other woman, "You're not alone."  There are all types of mamas - biological kids, adopted kids, waiting for kids, struggling with infertility, kids grown, kids passed away, have no contact with kids, on the list goes.  And we all have this in common - GUILT.  And I truly hope as I share my guilt story, you can share whatever your mother guilt story is as well.  And let's set ourselves free.

My name is Laura Ramey, and I have Mother Guilt.  My past relationship with mother guilt is that I have never been a woman who was dying to have a baby. What is wrong with me that I don't long to have a child growing in my womb?  Where is that mothering bone in my body - or am I missing it? And then I met my boys in Haiti. I knew instantly they were mine. And it made sense why I hadn't longed to get pregnant. I still feel guilt every now and then that I'm not being fruitful and multiplying by making a little Todd and Laura combo, but that guilt pales in comparison to the present guilt I feel of being in my Williamson County home cooking my organic chicken while my 3 sons eat another bowl of rice and beans in their little orphanage dining room while we all wait on this crazy adoption process to be completed.

I feel guilt that someone else helps Wendy write his alphabet, because he writes his letters backwards or upside down.  I want to be the one helping him.  I feel guilt that when Woody stutters and the other kids make fun of him, I can't hug him and tell him how I proud I am that he is learning to read.  I feel guilt that Wilnes is in puberty and has sexual thoughts and feelings he doesn't understand, and I can't help him make sense of it.  I feel guilt that I'm sitting here with my cozy blanket around me, candle lit, and a glass of wine while my children are getting ready to lay their bodies to sleep on urine-soaked mattresses, because they wet the bed so often - because they are traumatized, scared, lonely.  I FEEL GUILT.

I feel guilt that over a year ago I walked into the office of the woman that held the pen to sign off on our papers, and I couldn't convince her to sign. She told me I couldn't handle raising 3 boys.  She may be right.  And I feel guilt about that.  I feel guilt every time I have to say goodbye.  I bring all this love, joy, laughter, toys, gifts, food into their lives for 4-6 days at a time and then drive back to the airport alone, leaving us all in tears waiting for someone to give us a f'ing answer about when we get to be together for good.  And now I feel guilt for using the "F" word, because someone reading this might think I'm not being Christian enough or trusting God's timing enough.  Every time I say goodbye it's like I've abandoned them again.  There is no amount of bubble gum, peanut butter, and hip-hop music I can bring with me to lighten this sadness for us.  I am helpless and powerless, and I feel guilt thinking somehow I should be able to be more help-FUL and power-FUL.  And for crying out loud, I'm a therapist, so then I feel guilty for not knowing how to handle it all!

So Mother Guilt certainly has her not-so-pretty little fingers wrapped around me pretty tightly.  And I'm learning to stop, take deep breaths, F-bomb if I need to, and then ask for lots of grace and help from my Heavenly Father (and other people who are willing to enter the craziness with me).  It's truly the only thing that brings me peace. I realize when I strive for "super mommy" I miss the really good stuff that God can do out of mess and chaos.  I picture myself as the clay in the Potter's Hands.  I keep falling apart, but He keeps putting me back together.  Mother Guilt can break me, but He makes me new again....and again.  And He is parenting all of us (more on that in my other blog post on "parenting from afar" - click here).  When I remember I'm not parenting alone, Mother Guilt can't grip me so tight anymore. It's too much to carry by myself - and I can always tell when the Mother Guilt hits the hardest is the very time I'm attempting to carry it alone.  So in a way she's a bittersweet reminder to reach out for help and connection. 

What are your answers to these questions?  You're not alone, brave woman. 

What is your headache telling you?

Have you ever had a headache that no matter how many Excedrin you take it just won't go away?  Or the ongoing stomach ache for which you can't find a remedy?  Our feelings, thoughts, life events, and traumas can become stored in the body.  And even if an extra Advil does work for awhile, it can't keep the pain from recurring until the root cause is understood.  Sometimes the root may be a deeper medical issue.  And almost always there is an emotional component as well.  Our brain, the control center for our emotions, talks to all parts of our bodies; therefore, when we have an emotional release it may offer a physical release as well.  I remember a time I had the most horrible headache, and once I got a good cry out I felt so much better!

A resource I love is a book called "Heal Your Body A-Z"  by Louise Hay.  You can look up a specific ailment you are suffering and she suggests the probable emotional cause and offers a new thought pattern.  For example on page 38 she notes:

Headaches
Probable Cause: Invalidating the Self. Self-criticism. Fear
New Thought Pattern:  I love and approve of myself.  I see myself and what I do with eyes of love.  I am safe.

Because of this powerful mind-body connection, many of the referrals I get come from doctors - when all remedies and medicines have been tried, but the pain is still there - we explore the emotional block.  This is why I'm so excited to team up with Dr. Carolyn Maxfield of Middle Tennessee Center for Alternative Medicine.  Each month we are offering a FREE 1 hour process group for anyone interested in learning more about the mind-body connection and gaining tools for dealing with the emotional components of their physical pain. 

Our next meeting will be:

 Wednesday, April 30 

5:30-6:30pm

MTCAM office -7123 Crossroads Blvd Suite A

Brentwood TN 37027

                        

This month's topic will be on how depression and painful life events often show up in the body.  All are welcome to join and bring a friend!  RSVP to drcarolynmaxfield@gmail.com.

Express YourSELF

 "Express Yourself.  You've gotta be you and only you, babe."  (Salt 'N' Pepa)

 

 This was me - or at least I thought it was me.  

I grew up singing, but not necessarily because I wanted to or because it was important to me.  It was because I decided it might be fun to sing in my little church one Sunday morning when I was 9 years old, and people thought it was good. So they asked me to sing more.  I kept doing this for a long time - singing for others.  I am not kidding when I tell you that every week I was asked as I walked in the church doors, "you singing today?"  And because I was a good little girl, most Sundays I had my cassette in hand...you know, some accompaniment version of Amy Grant's latest hit.  But I started rebelling a little, and there was ONE Sunday I didn't sing.  Oh, dear Jesus!  You would have thought I was headed straight to you know where.  The guilt and shame was a lot for a 9 yr old, so I learned to stay compliant, but still tried to skip a few Sundays. I was even warned once by someone that if I didn't keep using my gift, God would take it from me.  (sidenote: people, please don't say this to kids).

Next thing you know I was singing at every banquet, wedding, funeral - sometimes for people I didn't know.  I thought then I loved to sing and this would be my destiny.  It just HAD to be, right?  That's what everyone said, so I started believing it too.  But what I know now is that I loved keeping people happy with me.  I tried a few times to sing what I wanted to really sing - like Paula Abdul's "Cold Hearted Snake" - but it was frowned upon, and I was handed another karaoke version of something by Terri Clark - because I was supposed to be a country girl. So I played by those rules awhile too.  So long that I eventually moved to Nashville.  Which ended up working out after all. One of my favorite quotes on my office wall is "I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I ended up where I needed to be." (Douglas Adams)

I find that I'm still some version of this at times - singing (doing, achieving, working, hurrying, performing) for other people - because it's just easier to keep them happy.  One of the hardest things to do is sing my own song.  Or just not sing if I don't feel like it.  Or dance instead.   But honestly, I still love to sing. I really always did.  I just didn't like all the rules that came with it.  And I couldn't find my own voice, because the other voices were just so dang loud.  Today I opened my mouth to sing, and I was like, "Hey, there she is! I know this girl.  But she sounds different than I remember.  I really like her."

~Is there a talent or hobby you once used to enjoy (or not) that you no longer do? Why?
~Would you like to try it again - in a new way?
~Or would you like to try something different instead?
~If no one was watching or listening, how would you express yourself?  Give it a try. 

Snow Day

I am sitting here watching snow fall out my window.  Clients have cancelled for the day, because they don’t need the added stress of sliding and spinning on ice all the way to therapy.  Life is hard enough.  I see the posts on facebook – mixed emotions of happiness and frustration.  Some say, “hooray for a snow day,” while others, are “really, another snow day?”  No matter our situation, the weather outside, the conditions in our heart, or the challenges we face, I am learning more than ever about the beautiful flow and timing of life.  I can trust there are just some things so far out of my control that I must lean into the invitation to let go, trust, be present in THIS very moment.  It is not easy, but here’s what I am talking about…

I first sat down this morning and began the worry – oh no, I’m losing a whole day of work today.  What will I do?  How does this affect my budget?  Where can I rearrange my schedule to fit everyone in on a different day?  I decided to let these fears just flow out – giving them a place to release instead of keeping them inside. Then as I felt the release, I handed them over to God.   Writing that makes it sound so simple, but it was not, I promise.  Because one of my biggest fears is when I’m not productive or working, then I must not matter.  So the fear of not getting all my tasks done spins me into a deeper fear of not being loved or worthy.  Sometimes I imagine God's presence as Aibileen from “The Help,” and she whispers to me, “You is kind. You is smart. You is important.” When I remember God delights in me even when I'm not achieving something, I can more readily let go of my list of things I was “supposed” to do and trust that He has given me a space and time to rest and let Him have the control back. 

So after all that spinning and releasing, I just gazed out my window and drank my coffee with God and Aibileen and took in the beauty of the ice and snow that I was just cussing minutes before.  It reminded me of a song I sang at a dear friend’s wedding.  It is Nichole Nordeman’s “Every Season.” The verse about winter is this...

And everything in time and under heaven
Finally falls asleep
Wrapped in blankets white

All creation shivers underneath
And still I notice you when branches crack
And in my breath on frosted glass
Even now in death, You open doors for life to enter
You are winter.

I had no idea I would be singing that song at her wedding and hearing it again at her funeral just a few years later.  I still don’t understand this, and I don’t even try to understand it anymore.  Life is just too delicate and too complicated to try to figure out. But what I do know is that as I looked at the beautiful ice coated branches out my window, this song came to mind.  My friend came to mind. I wondered what she was doing in Heaven today. I sat peacefully in the memory of Emmie and let her presence wash over me.  I heard her laugh. I heard her tell me, “this place is awesome – there’s no stress here!” She and I were so much alike – always working hard, detail-oriented, worrying about doing things right, etc.  So as I held the image of my beautiful friend laughing in heaven and heard sweet Aibileen remind me “I is important,” I am letting go. I am trusting this world is not my home.  I am leaning into a snow day and all it can bring.  Even though it totally messes with “my” plans, I end up accomplishing exactly what I need to.

~What happens for you when your day/plan/schedule gets messed up?

~Do you ever notice “gifts” that come, even when your plan gets thrown off?

~See if you can notice what you are being invited to release today.  Or on the flip side, what are you being invited to welcome that you may have missed before when you were so focused on your plan?

The Fear of Connection

On Valentine’s Day we got word that we have adoption certificates.  We were so excited to have a step completed that we didn’t even really know what it meant!  We have since learned it means our boys now officially have our last name – They are Rameys.  They have always been ours in our hearts, but now a piece of paper says they belong to us. 

It reminded me of our wedding day.  There is excitement in sharing a name, but it comes with a lot of responsibility and confusion.  I felt connected to Todd, but now a piece of paper would say I was – so much connected to him that I would take his name.  What would that mean?  Am I different?  Do I have to be?  Who am I if I’m not a Melrose anymore? Todd shared with me that he sat outside our first little condo and cried on our wedding day because he felt the gravity of the responsibility to love and care for another person. I could have taken that personally, but I admitted I too was shaky all day because of this name-changing conundrum. I know our boys will share that same confusion – who am I? What does it mean to be a Ramey? What does it mean to be in this family?  Will I fit in?

What we have learned and struggled with in our relationship is the beautiful and painful responsibility of connection. We have a responsibility to one another (not for one another – thank you, Cloud and Townsend, for your Boundaries book).  But we are often confused about what those responsibilities actually are.  Todd admits it is scary to have people in his care.  He feels as the provider of the family, the one from whom we all got our name, he needs to do the best he can to protect and “keep us okay.” There is fear in letting us down.  I admit that in taking his name I felt fear in being someone else’s “possession.”  Would I always just be “Todd’s wife” or would I still get to be ME? And what if I let him down? What if he is embarrassed that I’m a Ramey?  I feel a responsibility to uphold that name.  I gotta keep him happy!

Here’s the beauty about feelings – they don’t have to go away or be fixed to offer a space for deeper connection.  We are both afraid.  Neither of us wants to let the other one down. We both just want to do the best we can to care and love the other and somehow maintain a sense of self.  We both want to do things well.  We both want to be a good spouse and parent.  But the most helpful awareness for us – we realized we were both trying so hard to keep the other one okay (happy, free from pain, etc) instead of allowing each other space for feelings and consequences. And we have since realized, and still learning, that is NOT our job or a fair responsibility in relationship.  We will let each other down, not intentionally of course, and the connection happens when we talk about that instead of trying so hard to keep it from happening.  In our exhausted efforts to be the perfect spouse, we stop being real.

Being a Ramey makes me his family, his partner, the one he chose to do life with - even in all our messiness. And now that our boys are Rameys, we are welcoming them as family too – to share life with them and love, honor, and cherish them.  Is there still fear in that?  Of course.   But we can each in our humanity say, “This is scary, and I’m not always sure how to do this, but I chose you and love you, and we can figure this out together.”  

*Photo - writing his name Wendy RAMEY

Reframing Your Critic

Reframe (verb): frame or express (words or concept or plan) differently.

Have you ever heard the expression, “Those tapes keep playing in my head?”  Maybe you haven’t, since no one actually plays tapes anymore.  But in case you have, this is how I describe the barrage of negative thoughts and criticisms that roll through our minds at many points throughout the day.

I used to be in singing competitions when I was a kid and throughout my teenage years.  The judges would speak their critiques into a tape recorder while each contestant was singing.  So after the performance, I would go pick up my packet of cassettes and play back the performance – listening to myself sing something by Tanya Tucker or Bette Midler while some man or woman (who was supposedly a big deal in the music industry) would fire off, “You were off pitch right there” or “This isn’t in a good key for you.”  It was awful.  I would play them over and over and do my best to make it right the next time.  So literally those tapes kept playing – and today in some way they still play in my head.  As an adult I don’t hear, “Oh, man, Laura that was off key,” but I do hear, “Oh wow, you really screwed that up.”  How could these messages ever be helpful?  I’ve spent many years trying to quiet that voice, but what if…just maybe…that critic could be turned into something useful?

When I think about those years of competition, surely there was some good in having judges give their critiques by tape, so I could actually hear where they were hearing the need for improvement. And as I watch the Olympics, I can imagine the ice skaters or snow boarders have been told by their coaches many times, “Let’s try it again. You didn’t quite stick that one.”  One doesn’t get to the Olympics by shrugging their shoulders and saying, “Yeah, that was just okay, but I don’t need to practice anymore.” So what’s the line between healthy and harmful criticism?  Those judges or coaches could have been jerks about it, but what if they just sincerely wanted to offer help and encouragement for development? And what if our inner critics just want to do the same?

This is what I want to explore in the upcoming group I am offering “Reframing Your Critic”  (details at end of post).  Sadly many of us have “tapes” that play hurtful words someone said to us or messages we received during difficult times in our lives.  For example, someone who was abused as a child may have heard often, “You are worthless.” And now their inner critic message is just that.  That message is a lie.  So let’s assume this same person today is putting together a proposal for their boss, and the boss kindly offers some suggestions for areas of improvement, but all this person can hear the boss saying is, “You are worthless.” Sometimes truthful constructive criticisms are masked by the hurtful lies inside us.  My hope is that this group will help participants discern the difference between what is helpful and harmful.  We will work to identify the harsh critic messages we once received, gain insight into where they came from, release the burdens and lies they carry, and then reframe them into positive roles in our lives. 

So what does “reframe” mean?  As the definition above suggests, we are going to put that inner critic in a new light and help it express its needs differently.  We don’t have to silence our critic  - silencing keeps their hurt locked up.  But we can offer space to understand more about our critical messages, heal their wounds, and help them get a new name.  Maybe instead of a critic, it can become a motivator, teacher, helper, or encourager? 

I hope you can join the group, but if not, consider a few of these questions to help you begin to understand more about your own inner critic:

~What is a critical message you say to yourself most days?

~Where did you first learn/hear this message?

~Often our inner critics embody a character, symbol, color, or feeling in your body.  How do you recognize your critic?  Examples: bully (beats you up), chainsaw (cuts you to pieces), the color black (darkens your day) or a stomach ache (shame in the pit of your stomach).

~What would it be like to think of your critic as a part of you that actually wants to help or protect you?  How does that change the way your critic talks to you?

~Where can you (and your inner critic) get support to change the critic's role in your life?  God?  Counselor?  Safe friend? Mentor? 

If you are interested in joining the group, here's more info...