fbpx
Something’s Gotta Give, and This Is It

Something’s Gotta Give, and This Is It

During the Christmas season I usually become staunchly aware of how little time there really is.  I become nostalgic and. . . I drop balls.  Lots of them.

I then have this, totally unhealthy, pattern that unfolds.  First, I feel like an awful mother.  An awful wife.  An awful friend. . . employer, sister, daughter. . . .and on and on.  THEN I move from shame to anger and blame.   

I get pissed!  

I take a little time to rage against the expectations and the patriarchy and all this commercialized ridiculousness.  Seriously, this is a well-worn soapbox.

BUT, here’s the thing.  The truth is that I really love this season.  I love twinkle lights and candles and advent calendars and the magic of Santa Clause and the Elf on the Shelf.  I love the story of Mary and Jesus so much – the journey, the birth, the gifts, and all the hope.  The magic of this season brings me to tears.  

AND there is just so much to do this time of year.     

So, this year, as family and friends arrive, and as I make the choice to sip eggnog next to the Christmas tree, or watch one more Christmas movie with the kids, I look at a variety of things that need to be done, and say “Something’s gotta give, and this is it.”

I hope some of you resonate with this little poem I wrote the other day as I moved through my shame, anger, blame pattern, and into a little peace and acceptance.  

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Happy Holidays – I love y’all.   

Something’s Gotta Give, and This Is It.

 Listen >>

The house is a wreck and the dishes are dirty. 

Laundry is growing out of the couch.

Windows, baseboards, blinds, the ring inside the toilet.   

Something’s gotta give and this it.

My car.  (Place a dramatic and pause and audible exhale here)

Yep, something’s gotta give and this is it.  

Blocks, and Legos, and crafts all over the house. 

And dare I mention the squatters taking up residence inside and under my couch.

Something’s gotta give and this is it. 

The biggest problems can’t be fixed in a day or even a week or two.

The dishes, the baseboards, the spilled milk in my car. . .

Have I mentioned the laundry? 

Just a couple hours and these (quote) “problems” can be fixed, often with relative ease. 

It is not so with our health, our relationships, or the legacy we leave. 

The health of our body.  

The health of the earth. 

The health of the mission we painstakingly birth.

The health of our relationships with our family and friends. 

These kinds of problems, quite simply, take years to mend.

Something’s gotta give, and it’s gonna be the dishes for sure.  

The laundry.

The dusty baseboards and blinds.

And that DAMN STUBBORN toilet ring that abides. 

So, this is my mantra. 

My manifesto, if you will, during this season and throughout the coming year:  

Grace to focus on what matters most and radical permission to say… 

“Something’s gotta give, and this is it!” 

The 5 Steps for Repair in a Relationship

The 5 Steps for Repair in a Relationship

By Bettina Shultz-Jobe

I recently wrote a blog about how we can build strong connections with ourselves and others through rupture and repair.  Many of us have not had healthy rupture and repair modeled in our lives and are, therefore, just beginning the journey of embracing this practice and this way of being in the world, so I thought it might be helpful to discuss some actionable steps we can take when seeking repair in a relationship.

Oftentimes, people use the terms “repair” and “apology” synonymously.  An apology is not a repair.  It is merely a part of what is needed to make a repair.  Let’s discuss the most basic components of a repair, while also holding the awareness that putting steps to a process that involves human relationships (that can be quite complicated!) will always be an oversimplification. Hopefully, still useful, but an oversimplification, nonetheless.

Repair requires attunement and a deep acceptance that life and relationships are not “black and white” and perfection is never the goal.  Relationships are messy and re-connection is always the goal during a relational repair and during conflict resolution.

Step 1: Allow Guilt, Reject Shame

Shame says, “I am a bad person.”  Guilt says, “I did a bad thing.”

Research shows that when we feel shame, we become defensive, deny, blame others, and oftentimes, get angry at others for making us feel this way, but what we don’t do is change our behavior.  When we feel shame we struggle to accept how our behavior affected someone else because it’s far too painful to think “I’m a horrible person.”

Shame is a self-focused emotion, “Me, me, me.  . . I’m such a horrible person. What are you thinking of me? Are you thinking I’m a horrible person too?” When we struggle to distinguish between what I do and who I am, we move into a shame spiral, and repair becomes almost impossible.

Shame often has roots in our earliest experiences with caregivers.  It may feel inherent to who you are, but that younger version of you can be nurtured into letting go of these shame messages.

Conversely, appropriate guilt is what is needed if we are to offer repair in relationships. Research shows that guilt allows us to focus on what we’ve done. Behavior is easier to change than self so when we feel guilt about a specific behavior, we are more likely to feel empathy for the person we’ve hurt. We are, therefore, more inclined to want to apologize and make things right. Acceptance of appropriate guilt – “I made a bad choice and that hurt your feelings” –  is needed in order to do each of the following steps for repair.

Step 1 is about self-compassion.

“I am a good person, and I made a poor choice.  My choice caused a rupture in this relationship, but I know that I can make it right. I can make a repair.” It is during this step that you can seek to understand why you did what you did without making excuses.

Feeling guilt instead of shame is very difficult for many of us, especially those of us who have survived childhood trauma, because the ability to distinguish between what I do and who I am does not emerge before the age of approximately seven or eight. This is one of the reasons that punitive child rearing can have grave effects on the development of the self. Child abuse and neglect often result in an adult who can feel shame, but not guilt. If you are struggling in this area, I encourage you to seek out counseling services with someone who specializes in complex trauma.

Step 2: Listen

Listen deeply and completely so that you can fully understand the damage that was done. Allow the other to be heard without defending or explaining yourself. Remember, the goal of conflict resolution is not to be right or to make a point, it is to repair by reconnecting. This step is for deeply understanding how your actions affected the person in front of you.

Laura Trevelyan, who was an anchor and correspondent for BBC News, and currently campaigns for reparative justice in a full-time capacity, puts it this way, “When seeking repair, the more you expose yourself to the full sensory experience of whoever’s been harmed, the closer you are to finding the right next step.” 

I love this! Listen so deeply, that you “expose yourself to the full sensory experience” of whoever you have hurt. 

This step is about profound empathy and deep compassion for the other.

Step 3: Apologize

Sincerely apologize for what you have done to damage the relationship. It is important that you explicitly state “I’m sorry. . . .” or “I apologize. . .” and expand on exactly what you are sorry for.  Provide details about the situation, acknowledge your role in the situation, and repeat, in your words, how your actions have affected them.  It is possible that you may need to return to step two, if the person you have hurt needs to clarify how your decisions affected them. Avoid phrases like, “I’m sorry you felt hurt” or “sorry if” or “sorry but” – these are all ways of minimizing the damage done.

Lastly, ask for forgiveness, and do not assume they will forgive you right away. Remember, forgiveness itself is a very personal process that can beautifully unfold during steps 4 and 5.

The apology is very important, but it is not the repair. Apologies without repair, over and over again, will undermine trust in the apology and in the integrity of the person offering the apology.

Step 4: Make Amends

Mend what was broken.

In this step you consider what you can do to right the wrong. One of my favorite ways to make a repair is to do what we often call a do-over or a rewind. In a do-over, you literally play the entire situation again and get the opportunity to do it differently.  This step is so powerful and so often missed.  I wrote a short blog to breathe life into what we mean by do-overs with this personal story.

The “rewind” is a similar concept that Tim and I have used quite a bit in our marriage.  I will often make the sound of a tape rewinding (yes, I know I’m dating myself!) and then say something to this effect, “When you said ______, I really wish I had said _______.  Would you give me the opportunity to go back to that moment and make a different choice?”

(I should add that the sound of the tape rewinding is lovely only if a bit of humor could bring some lightness to the conversation. As with all humor, definitely use it with caution.)

The rewind and the do-over empower us to practice and embody the change we hope to make in the future, and in the present moment both parties get to experience something different, rather than just imagine a different, hypothetical future.

Step 5: Continually Foster Reparative Experiences

Much of the time, mending what was broken in a relationship is not a one time event but a process that takes time.  In situations where the rupture was large and/or took place over and over again (with little to no repair), each step in this process will also need to happen over and over again.

For example, when there has been infidelity in a relationship, each partner will need to choose to repeatedly do things differently, offering reparative experiences through every interaction to rebuild trust and connection.

At times, we might need to acknowledge that a situation feels like the one that led to the rupture in the first place and then overtly offer the reparative experience.  “I can understand how this moment might feel a lot like the situation in which I caused you so much pain and heartbreak.  This moment is different because I’m trying to [insert reparative behavior], and I am committed to you and to this relationship, and to the promises I made when we first started working to repair our relationship.”

Repair with a child

When repairing a relationship with a child, try something like this: “I know in the past when things like this happened, I didn’t listen and I punished you. Right now, I am here and I am listening, and we are going to work this out together. I am going to do what I have promised, what I have committed to you and to our relationship.”

Repair in sessions with clients

In sessions with clients, here’s one approach: “I know in the past when a big emotion came up for you, you needed to hide and work it out for yourself. Today you are not alone. I am here and I am okay with the expression of whatever emotion you may have. You don’t need to hide or suppress or get over it by yourself. I am here to listen and offer support.”

A repair is more than an apology. A repair has to be experienced. It has to be lived. It’s an opportunity to practice doing the right thing for the relationship. Practice does not make perfect, but it is certainly required for improvement and growth. It is through the embracing of repair, over and over again, that we can accept that ruptures will happen and that the world will not end.

When we are no longer scared of ruptures, we can be free to try, to show up, and to be willing to make mistakes.

As a community, I invite all of us to commit to practicing repair. The kind of repair that moves beyond an apology, and means that we vulnerably go back and try again. This kind of repair requires grace and commitment to connection from all involved – grace that provides space for do-overs, rewinds, repair, and real healing. Deep, complete healing and profound, transformative connection.

 

 

 

Building Strong Connections through Rupture and Repair

Building Strong Connections through Rupture and Repair

By Bettina Shultz-Jobe and Kate Naylor

One of my mentors and teachers, Margery Segal, once said that if you’ve made it to the end of a therapy (or coaching, wellness, etc.) session and haven’t needed to make a repair yet, that you need to hurry up and make a mistake. . . so you can make a repair.  And she meant it!

In one of her trainings we even practiced making mistakes and repairs, because the repair is where the healing takes place – it is in the repair of a mistake that we connect more deeply, grow, and strengthen ourselves and our relationships.

AND repair cannot happen without rupture.  In order to reap the benefits of repair, we must embrace mistakes, conflict, and stress.

Rupture and repair over and over again is how our muscles grow and strengthen. It’s what is needed to develop a strong, flexible, and resilient nervous system.  It is how secure attachment is formed in our earliest years, and how our relationships throughout the lifespan become more intimate, fulfilling, and able to thrive in the midst of life’s tribulations.  Indeed, the cycle of rupture and repair is needed to grow and thrive, so it is no wonder that Margery encouraged curiosity and the freedom to misattune and make mistakes (small ruptures), giving us a powerful opportunity to repair.

Practitioner:  “It seems like that situation brought so much sadness.”

Client:  “No, not really.  It made me angry. . . so angry I could hardly breathe.”

Practitioner:  “Goodness, I really missed you. I misunderstood what you were telling me.  It makes sense that you were angry – of course you were.  Can you tell me more so I can understand your anger more deeply?”

The reality is that perfection isn’t an option – much as we might like it to be.  When in relationship with ourselves and others (whether it be friends, family, colleagues, or clients) we will make mistakes – learning the art of repair is then a necessary and loving way to strengthen our connections.

Many of us need to explore our history with rupture and repair and the beliefs we therefore carry in our body, mind, and soul, if we are to embody a practice that helps our clients heal through reparative experiences.  You see, so many of us and so many of our clients have been robbed of the very important cycle of rupture and repair that is needed for growth.  So, when I say to my client “I missed you.  I didn’t get it, but I really do want to understand,” I may be the first person who has ever acknowledged a misattunement and genuinely sought to repair it in the moment.  These types of interactions over and over again are a salve for attachment wounding – it’s the stuff attachment repair is made of.

Why is this conversation important for the EAS field?

Understanding rupture and repair is important for everybody and for any person in the helping professions, but it’s particularly important for those of us who do experiential work.  When we do experiential work like Equine Assisted Services, real life happens in our sessions. If our clients are building a genuine relationship with a horse (and us), things will not always go as planned. In vivo, our clients will experience stress, misattunement, and conflict, and it will be up to us to model healthy ways to repair relationships with self and others. When we do experiential work, this stuff isn’t just theory, it is a practice in each and every session for us and for our clients.

Let’s discuss the cycle of rupture and repair further.

Rupture and Repair Grows and Strengthens our Muscles

I love the way the physical body can help us understand more abstract things like emotions, attachment, and relationships.  For example, when we lift weights, our muscles are, in essence, damaged.  Tiny injuries to the muscle fibers, called microtears, occur when we workout. However, given proper nutrition, blood supply, and rest, these ruptures will repair allowing the muscle to grow bigger and stronger than it was before. The rupture, however, has to be such that repair is possible, and there has to be a pause that allows repair to occur.

If we continue to stress the muscles without time for rest and repair, the opposite of growth occurs. Muscles can begin to break down, a condition called Rhabdomyolysis that is life-threatening.  Rupture without repair will cause our muscles to disintegrate.  That said, we can’t avoid the rupture if we are to grow our muscles.

There has to be rupture AND repair for growth to occur.

Rupture and Repair Grows and Strengthens our Nervous System

Our nervous system is the same way. Our nervous system grows and becomes flexible and strong and resilient through something called allostasis, the rhythm of stress on the nervous system.  For stress to build resilience it must be moderate, predictable, and short-term – in NL we often use the term eustress to describe this.  Eustress can be metabolized by our bodies.  We can recover from it. Eustress is a rupture for which repair is possible.

Again, the stress needs to be moderate enough that repair is possible, and there has to be a pause that allows repair to occur.  When the stress just keeps coming and coming, we can no longer metabolize it.  There is no pause to allow for repair – oftentimes this is called allostatic load, and it compromises the nervous system instead of building resilience.

That said, in order for our nervous system to develop resilience – strength and flexibility – it has to “work out.” We can’t avoid the rupture all together.  We need moderate amounts of stress AND time for repair.

There has to be rupture AND repair for growth to occur.

Rupture and Repair Helps us to Develop Secure Attachment

Rupture and repair is also what helps us to develop secure attachment, because it is a strong yet flexible nervous system that paves the way for a strong yet flexible person – a person who can better cope with, accept, and adjust to difficult situations.  Adults with secure attachment are less likely to shut down or become emotionally dysregulated when interpersonal conflict arises  – basically, they handle conflict in a way that builds relationships instead of tearing them down.

Secure attachment is formed when a baby experiences a bit of stress (an inevitable experience for any human) – hunger, discomfort, over stimulation – and a caregiver comes in and offers reparative actions of connection like holding, rocking, singing, etc. Eustress (rupture) and soothing (repair) over and over again, builds secure attachment.  Our need for soothing through relationship (co-regulation) continues throughout the lifespan, and it is the co-regulation (repair) that builds the “muscle” that eventually makes self-soothing possible at times.

In order to develop secure attachment at any stage of life, there has to be rupture AND repair.

Rupture and Repair Builds Relationships

It is conflict resolution – basically rupture and repair – that builds relationships with others throughout the lifespan.  Again, rupture and repair is at the heart of all growth.  When we have secure attachment, we believe deep in our bones that conflict resolution is about reconnecting.  When our attachment is more insecure, we tend toward two extremes:  rupture avoidant or rupture centric. This relationship with rupture is typically learned on a cellular level in our family of origin.

Growing up in a family that was rupture-centric

In a rupture-centric home there is often an enormous amount of chaos, conflict, and aggression, without the healthy modeling of repair.  Maybe feelings are expressed, but there is seldom healthy communication about those feelings or movement toward resolution.  Fear is a primary emotion in these homes, and children learn to do whatever it takes to keep their parents happy.  Oftentimes, in this kind of environment rupture is a major threat to safety.  Repair is not considered when survival is the primary concern.

Those of us who grew up in rupture-centric homes may handle conflict in a way that “just gets us through it.”  People please, appease, become defensive, withdraw and then pretend nothing happened – whatever it takes to feel better.  This is an approach that originates from survival mechanisms, and is inherently self-focused rather than relationship focused. So, we get stuck, alone with our feelings, and miss out on the relational repair; the one thing that will help us to learn that rupture doesn’t have to be so scary.

The allostatic load in this home is high because the stress just keeps coming and repair is seldom sought.

Growing up in a family that was rupture-avoidant

In a rupture-avoidant home, conflict is avoided at all costs.  Maybe you never saw your parents fight?  Or only emotions seen as “positive” were allowed.  Feelings were not discussed.  “Go to your room and when you are calm you can rejoin the family.”  Maybe image was really important.  “Don’t do that in front of your grandmother.”  If you grew up in this type of home, you may have learned to internalize feelings and check out from body sensations, because the best way to keep connection with your caregivers was to always be “okay.”

Those of us who grew up in rupture-avoidant homes, might find conflict deeply threatening and terrifying, because conflict means that the relationship will be damaged beyond repair.  We might find that we are scared of feelings that all people have, like anger, jealousy, and grief.  The repression of such emotion leads to more conflict avoidance and the cycle continues.

The allostatic load in this home is still high because pretending that everything is okay doesn’t make it so. Our nervous system still experiences stress, but when we are young we don’t have the benefit of a caregiver who helps us repair – soothes us to completion – thereby helping us learn to self-soothe.  We believe the only way to feel okay is to avoid rupture, thereby also avoiding repair.

In either childhood environment, we also miss out on the practice of conflict – so when we inevitably encounter it as adults, whether it terrifies us or feels all too familiar, we do not have the neural pathways to know what to do next.

How do we learn productive rupture and repair?

  1. Explore your relationship with rupture and with repair, and give yourself so much grace.  The building of this relationship you have with rupture and repair is not something over which you had control.  The re-model, however, is totally up to you – and it will take time
  1. Remember that we need to practice repair over and over again in order to begin to trust that mistakes and stress and conflict are truly safe.
  1. Self-care is a form of repair, and it begins with you.  If you have a stressful day, take time to pause so that you can do reparative behaviors – go on a walk, stretch, sit in a rocking chair, talk with a friend.  Notice when there is a rupture, and then listen to your body and respond by giving yourself what you need to repair.
  1. Make a request for a reparative conversation that is needed.  “We need to talk.”  For many this is the hardest part, so it takes great bravery.  So, again, exercise self-care and self-compassion first, and then say, “We need to to talk.  Is right now a good time for you?”
  1. Lastly, have a repair conversation.  Given that many of us are just beginning the practice of healthy rupture and repair in our lives, I thought a bit of guidance might be useful, which is why I wrote The 5 Steps for Repair in a Relationship. I hope you find it helpful as you begin having conversations for repair.   Remember, these conversations take practice and will likely be messy, giving you even more opportunity for repair.  🙂

 

 

True Healing Cannot Happen at the Expense of Another

True Healing Cannot Happen at the Expense of Another

When I was a pre-teen I was horse crazy.

I had Breyer horses in my room and horse shoes with pictures inside of them all over my walls.  One year for Christmas my parents got me a subscription to the Quarter Horse Journal. I read every single word and even indexed all the information so I could come back to it when needed.  I was organized, committed, and passionate.

My horse’s name was Mr. Ed. He certainly wasn’t show or performance material but he loved me, and I was smitten.  Absolutely smitten. I can still smell him today and feel his breath. Bathing him was probably my favorite thing – an even better smell that takes me back to all things wonderful in my childhood.

Mr. Ed was SLOW.  So, I spent a lot of time on trail rides or pretending to help “work cattle” a mile behind my dad.  I can remember singing “you are my sunshine” to my horse, while ignoring my dad’s pleas for me to catch up.

I now know the science behind what was really happening for me in those sweet and utterly perfect moments – those moments that formed me – powerful attachment and regulation stuff that I love nerding on and on about nowadays.  The thing is, it’s not just research for me, nor is it for most of us.

It’s personal.

It’s why we do this work – we BELIEVE in the power of the horse/human relationship to heal and to help us develop and grow.  We want this for ourselves, and we go to great lengths to offer this to others.

We need the horse human relationship

Some of us may not have had a living, breathing pony when we were young, but even so, many of us knew deep down that we NEEDED one.  Intuitively, we knew what those who have come before us knew, what science is finally catching up to, and what those who will come after us will find deep in their bones – the relationship between horse and person is special and somehow part of the very fiber of our existence.

AND most of us, at some point, if we are in the EAS field long enough, find that our heart and our passion get fractured.

Bills to pay.

Horses and families to feed and care for.

A business to fund, and clients and communities with needs well beyond our capacities to meet.

And grief and loss – oh, the loss that is deep when we love our horses, and that can be particularly complicated to process.

So, we plug along.

And plug along some more.

And plug along some more, because. . .

Goodness me, horse people have some serious grit.  It’s a strength until it’s a hindrance.

In Natural Lifemanship, one of our core principles is that true healing cannot happen at the expense of another.  The first time we ever said this, we were talking mostly about the horses, and about how important it is that their physical, emotional, and psychological well-being is cared for in and out of sessions.

But a good principle is a good principle regardless of where it is applied (another foundational NL principle), and true healing for my horses and my clients cannot happen at my expense or at the expense of my family.  I, too, need care for my physical, emotional, and psychological well-being in and out of sessions.

Maybe read that again, because you need this, too. We all do.

Returning to our why

So, this year it is my intention to return to the heart of this work – the relationship that formed me – my real why.

Selfishly, I’d love to have support and a little accountability, so I’d like to invite our NL community to join me.  Connect or reconnect to what childlike love of a horse feels like – this simple, yet profound love is at the heart of what we teach and what we do in the world every day.

My invitation to you is that you spend time each day for 30 days with your horse or horses, then we’ll meet as a community once a week to support each other and reflect on our time.  For those of you that find it useful, we’ll give you prompts each day – some gentle guidance as you deepen your relationship with your horse. You can learn more about what we’re doing here.

I plan to do my best to create space for this each day, with all kinds of grace for imperfection.  It’s okay to miss a day (actually, we’re building in a few extra days for this purpose).  Your community will still be here when you get back.

Remember, true healing cannot happen at the expense of another

As of late, I need this reminder on the regular. And I need time with my horse, while ignoring the world’s pleas to catch up – even if for just a short time each day.

If you need this too, please join me.  Join our community as we take time for ourselves and time for our horses. . . on our own and in community.

 

 

 

Belonging to a People and a Place

Belonging to a People and a Place

In my twenties  I went on a silent retreat at a convent that my spiritual director recommended.  This was the very beginning of a contemplative journey that I am so glad to have begun.

During this time, I was at a crossroads and I needed this chance to step away and go inward, a skill at which I was certainly not practiced.   I met with a priest whom I had never met before.  I was among people I did not know. Truly, it was a  rich experience that I will never forget.  I was, indeed, able to make a very difficult decision about my life during those days.

However, after this retreat, I recall calling every single family member and friend who would answer their phone and talking on the telephone for HOURS.  I don’t think I even talked about my experience at the retreat – actually, I have no idea what I talked about.  I know now that I was frenetically trying to reconnect to others and to my world.

I was also left feeling that this is what retreats and personal growth are like –  lonely and disconnected.  At the time, I conflated the experience of being physically alone with the feeling of loneliness and the pain of disconnection from others.

About a year later I went on another retreat at a place where the hosts knew me, loved me, understood my intentions, and silently held space for my experience.  This retreat was still silent, it was still self-guided, and I was still physically alone most of the time.

But I was not lonely and I felt a deep sense of connection to those hosting me.  I felt held and seen and understood.  I recently re-read some of the journal entries I made at those two retreats.  The second retreat brought so much more peace and joy and hope – of course!   I was regulated and connected with those who were holding me in their hearts while I grappled, grieved, and sought solace, guidance, and rest.  I left feeling a deep connection to myself, others, and the world around me.

Two Kinds of Retreats

There are a couple of different definitions of the word “retreat.” The first is to fall back or withdraw. This is what happened when I went to that first retreat. I felt isolated, lonely and disconnected.

But the definition I like is a period of time set aside for rest, meditation, or study – away from the usual daily distractions – where you can regulate your nervous system and reconnect with self. This is how my second retreat felt. It was a purposeful getaway aimed at self reflection, healing, and personal growth.

Most importantly, I was still attuned to the people and the setting I was in, while making space to work on my mental, physical and emotional wellbeing.  Likewise, my hosts were attuned to me.

This is the kind of retreat we’ve created at Natural Lifemanship Headquarters.

Nourished: NL Self Care Retreats

Stress, burnout, and disconnection from our inner selves is all too common — especially among helping professionals who already carry so much.

Since the very beginning, we’ve always felt that NL’s headquarters in Brenham, Texas, is more than just a place to train. It’s your place to unplug and unwind while we hold space for you. And unlike the first retreat I went on, our Nourished Self-Care Retreats are not about withdrawal or disconnection.   It’s exactly the opposite, actually.

We start by welcoming you and giving you a tour of the property so you know how you can use the  space.  Then you’ll have an opportunity to set intentions for your stay with us – to be seen, felt, and heard.  After that, you will guide your own schedule and experience, but we will hold space for you and give you time away from other demands to care for and invest in yourself in a very purposeful way.   At the end of your time with us, you’ll meet with one of our team members  again to reflect on the experience and decide what to carry with you as you travel home.

You belong here, with us

I love this quote from Wendell Berry:

“A community is the mental and spiritual condition of knowing that the place is shared, and that the people who share the place define and limit the possibilities of each other’s lives. It is the knowledge that people have of each other, their concern for each other, their trust in each other, the freedom with which they come and go among themselves.”

~ Wendell Berry, A Long-Legged House

Being a member of a community, like Natural Lifemanship, is not just about belonging to a group or a people.  It’s also about belonging to a place.

When you’re going through a process of personal transformation and renewal, there are parts of that journey you need to take on your own.  But you do not have to withdraw or disconnect to be on your own.  When you are on a solitary leg of your journey, it is of utmost importance that you still have a compassionate witness to your experience.

As a part of Natural Lifemanship’s beloved community, you have a home here at NL Headquarters always. It’s a home for training and learning and connecting. But it’s also your home for healing and rebuilding and rising from the ashes.

When it’s time for you to retreat, we want to invite you home, to your place. You will be surrounded by a community that loves you while having the space – and place – for growth.

Come stay with us.

 

Belief in Magic: The Grown-up Version

Belief in Magic: The Grown-up Version

By Bettina Shultz-Jobe

In 2018 when I was pregnant with Mabel, our second child, I began watching This Is Us during the last trimester when I was on bedrest.  I was already a little late in the game on this series at that time, and now I’m even later. So is life as a business owner and Mama. . . 

So, I recently watched the last episode of season 4. If you’re a This Is Us fan you might remember when Gerald McRaney, the actor who plays Dr. Nathan Katowski, shared some words of wisdom that he supposedly pulled out of thin air in the moment. Maybe you also cried (or wept) like I did. He said: 

“I think the trick is, not trying to keep the joys and the tragedies apart. But you kinda gotta let ’em cozy up to one another. You know, let ‘em co-exist. And I think that if you can do that, if you can manage to forge ahead with all that joy and heartache mixed up together inside of you, never knowing which one’s gonna get the upper hand. . . well, life does have a way of shaking out to being more beautiful than tragic.” 

At our home, our Christmas tree tells our life story. Memories of people who are no longer with us, homes and lives in which we no longer live, moments we will never get back. Each year tears fill my eyes as we unpack and hang ornaments that take me back to younger love, younger children, and seasons I thought would never end. Each year I remember, reminisce, and grieve.

When we decorate the tree I also feel the joy, magic, and mystery that is all around during the holiday season. Sometimes this comes easy, but more often than not I find that it is a practice.  It’s a discipline, because life is hard. It’s hard for everybody. Even when it looks kinda easy. . . it’s still hard. It’s gut-wrenchingly heartbreaking, and for many of us these feelings are profoundly worse during the holidays – in juxtaposition to all the Christmas Spirit and the implication around every corner that we should feel joy. I call this grinch pain, and it is all too real for many of us.

Some of us were blessed (or lucky) enough to remember a time in childhood when magic seemed easy. Ya know, it just happened (mostly because we had parents who really loved us! But that’s another conversation). The awe and wonder of the Christmas season was simple. I was one of those lucky children.  

As life happens, the magic of this season can become less. . . well magical, if we let it. It’s so easy to lose sight of the magic of twinkle lights because they take so damn long to put up. It’s a lot of work. It’s terribly easy to lose sight of the beauty of just about anything worth working for, especially when we’re in the thick of it. 

During my childhood, Christmas traditions, twinkle lights, trees, and Santa Claus all just happened – the innocence of this kind of magic is something I cherish. It has brought me great joy to be part of creating this kind of magic for our children, because I believe this helps to set the foundation for something even more miraculous and magical to occur. . . 

To find awe and wonder and magic and joy even amidst all the work it takes to create it. Even during the very real pain that life often brings. This is a miracle. I do believe that to recognize and accept a miracle takes great work and oftentimes even greater risk.  Very seldom do miracles just happen.  

For me, the entire Christmas season, especially tree decorating day, is a perfect time to practice letting the joys and tragedies “cozy up to one another”.  Deeply holding and feeling both.  The risk is huge, because there is no way of knowing “which one’s gonna get the upper hand” moment by moment. At times, I have been overcome by grief when unwrapping and hanging ornaments, but it’s mind-blowing what those lights look like through tears. When we just stay in it, keep feeling all the things, the reward is great.  It’s a high risk, high reward venture.  

The belief in magic we experience in our youth is innocent and beautiful. . . and fragile, but the magic found at the end of a pilgrimage and a voyage  – the grown-up version of believing in magic, in miracles, is worth dying for.   

My wish for you this holiday, however you may celebrate, is that “you can manage to forge ahead with all that joy and heartache mixed up together inside of you, never knowing which one’s gonna get the upper hand.”  Because this is brave, and this is what prepares the way for things to be “more beautiful than tragic.”  

This is the miracle of Christmas.