Finding Meaning

ASK ME

Early one morning in the fall of 2006, I found a computer-printed envelope addressed to ASK ME House just inside my front door. Inside was one printed page, which included the following:

An ASK ME poem for the ASK ME House. I came across this poem in a book and thought you might like to see it since your house shares its title. I hope you enjoy it and/or find it meaningful.

Ask Me by William Stafford

Some time when the river is ice ask me
mistakes I have made. Ask me whether
what I have done is my life. Others
have come in their slow way into
my thought, and some have tried to help
or to hurt: ask me what difference
their strongest love or hate has made.

I will listen to what you say.
You and I can turn and look
at the silent river and wait. We know
the current is there, hidden; and there
are comings and goings from miles away
that hold the stillness exactly before us.
What the river says, that is what I say.

To: ASK ME House (1027 Seymour)
Fr: Anonymous (at least for now)
On this 27^th of October, 2006

Several years later, I still have not learned the identity of the person who left me this precious gift–the first in a series of annual “love notes” to the house that have been arriving every October 27. [It took me a couple of years to actually note the connection between October 27 and the house’s street address of “1027”. And, it wasn’t until 2009 that there was any personal reference to me by name–where previously the sender had also noted that s/he “didn’t even know who lived in the house.”]

Each annual packet of goodies has included some reference to “ASK ME” – and yet I remain most intrigued by how accurate a glimpse the poem offers into the overall philosophy and foundations of what “ASK ME House” is truly all about……

I am filled daily with peace through this gentle reminder of the process by which I choose to live, with gratitude for having discovered the work of William Stafford, and with awe for the enigma of how the introduction took place.

Now–if I could just solve the mystery of who “Anonymous” is….!

by mary elaine kiener 3 Comments

Elaine Kiener – My mother, my friend

[printable PDF]

There’ve been times in life
when I’d felt like a mother-less child,
adrift at sea
with no land in sight.

But those were different long-ago times
When neither she nor I
knew how to be–
one with the other.

Then through the past two decades,
travelling simple journeys together,
mother and daughter learned to also become friends.
Content to simply be with each other–
watching and waiting–with neither judgment nor expectation
nor even need at time for words of any kind.

Yet now in this moment -barely a single day
since the mom has died,
I, her daughter, greet this new day
on the threshold of the rest of my life.

Never again to sit together,
nor again to see her look of pure delight and happiness
as she’d open her eyes to see me there with her.
No one last “Tussie Mussie” bouquet
lovingly carried from my home to hers,
Nor bowl of fresh-picked raspberries
For her to lovingly devour.
And no more tales of days gone by,
sharing both laughter and the tears
of being two strong women –
the only mother and sister
to three long-grown men.

With memories of that mysterious, witnessed moment
once on a day she didn’t die,
alongside other breathless, panicked moments
when she’d feared she’d die afraid/alone—
knowing now she’s found her peace at last.

And while I’m no longer by her side,
Content and grateful just to know
she’s resting there deep within my heart
Even as I proudly carry forever
HER name within my own.

by mary elaine kiener Leave a Comment

Resolved to Change – Aligning Your Head and Your Heart

Printable PDF

How often have you found yourself saying: “I need to change”? It doesn’t matter whether the change involves eating right, exercising more, earning more money, etc.

Our hearts tell us that we really want our lives to work better. We start out—time after time, resolved to “do better” this time around.

At first, all goes well. At least until our head joins in, apparently determined to keep us from changing. The repertoire of critical voices inside our head often includes “My life isn’t right,” “I know I’m the problem” and/or “I’m always standing in my own way.”

Then, the tug of war begins in earnest. The longing of the heart battles the worried, critical voices of the head–each side bound and determined to get its own way.

Our response at this point, tends to include one (or even both) of the following:

We concentrate our efforts on what we DO want. We’ll set intentions, create a dream board, recite affirmations. But the Law of Attraction can go only so far. Even the most carefully designed plan is still bound to meet some resistance along the way.
Attempting a logical response, we then try to understand the part inside that doesn’t want to change. We attempt to reason with the critical part, or even defend against the voices that tell us we’re doomed to fail even before we start. Unfortunately, all we get from all this effort is lots of inner judgment, blame and shame.

My mentor, Ann Weiser Cornell likes to say, “What we don’t realize is that the very way we are speaking about the problem is standing in the way of solving it…..That saying ‘how can I get myself to change?’ is sort of like trying to move a rug while standing on it!”

What might happen if, for a moment, we started with the source of the unease we’re feeling–the part that doesn’t want to change? A great start would be to shift that initial statement to something like this: “I want to change, but I don’t.” [Or “I want (or need) to eat better, exercise more, earn more money, etc.”] This at least recognizes that there are two sides to the issue.

Notice, for a moment, how it feels to express it this way : “I want to ____, but I don’t.” Better, perhaps, yet it still sounds a bit judgmental doesn’t it? It’s so easy for us to dip back up into our head, with its critical perspective.

Now, let’s see what might happen if we add just one little word: “something.” As in, “Something in me wants to change and something doesn’t.” Ah, so there are two parts–a part that wants to and a part that doesn’t want to. Now there’s even more space around that stuck place inside. It’s not “just” me – it’s not who I am.

Taking that even one step further, we might say: “I’m sensing something in me that’s feeling frustrated and yearning for change. It sees another part of me as the problem, and is trying to get it to change.”

Can you feel how that adds even more space? And maybe even room for a little curiosity to bubble through–especially about that second part that doesn’t want to change.

Now we’re acknowledging that the not-wanting part might be as valid as the part that does want to change. After all, it probably has its own very good reason for being the way that it is. We don’t have to become best buddies with it. However, we can at least respectfully allow it to speak, be heard and understood.

And then–instead of seeing the not-wanting as an enemy to be eliminated–perhaps we could see it instead as a gift of life-forward energy just waiting for us to quietly and curiously unwrap it? Could there really be a fragile space of wanting hidden beneath the critical judging thoughts and worried, anxious feelings?

In this way, we’re no longer trying to get ourselves to change. Instead, we’re standing in a relationship of compassionate curiosity toward each of these parts.

Here’s an exercise you can try out for yourself.

First, complete the following sentence by filling in the blank with something in your own life you wish to change:

Something in me wants to ________________, AND, something in me doesn’t.

Take a moment to notice how that feels inside.

Then, if you’d like to experience the next step in the process, I’ve recorded a brief (12 minutes long) guided exercise that’s available for you to download [or a pdf version to read through].

Once you’ve listened to the recording, notice how it feels inside. Is it different than when you started the exercise? [I welcome your feedback – either in the comments below or via email]

And, if you’re still feeling a bit “stuck,” you might want to schedule a “live” Guided Focusing Session that’s designed especially for you (and your unique journey).

————-

You may freely share and/or reprint this article in other electronic or print publications, provided you include the following attribution:

ASK ME House article © 2010 Mary Elaine Kiener, RN, PhD, all rights reserved. Reprinted with permission. As Creative Energy Officer at ASK ME House LLC, Mary Elaine assists caregivers to care for themselves as well as they care for others. For more information, visit: www.askmehouse.com and/or www.stresswell.com.

Please also send me a courtesy note with a copy of the publication.

by mary elaine kiener Leave a Comment

An Amaryllis Blessing

Amaryllis-Clearly_Ambiguous Once upon a time, when I was a little girl, a mysterious, tall green stalk magically began to grow two stories beneath my bedroom window. It had appeared in the flower bed, snuggled up so tightly against the sidewalk that we knew no human being could have planted it there. At the time, it seemed that no one even knew what kind of plant it was.

Then, one day, the mysterious stalk revealed its wondrous blooms. And later, when the blooms were spent, it seemed to die. Except each year, again and again, the magical stalk again emerged from the soil to repeat its blooming refrain.

Many years later, my mom had enjoyed another Amaryllis bulb miracle. No mysterious planting this time–the bulb had arrived nestled inside a florist’s basket. A perfect gift for my mom—for whom one of her greatest (and simplest) pleasures is to sit and watch flowers bloom. This special bulb—which grows at a pace that you can almost observe–provided a bright spot in her one-room, assisted living space.

Once its blooms had been spent, mom sent the bulb home with me, with the hopes that someday it might bloom again. For a few weeks, it sat on a shelf near my back door, enjoying occasional sips of water as its drooping leaves continued to feed the bulb.

Until one day, I noticed that a new stem had begun to send up its pointed tips. Gradually, another set of blossoms appeared at the tip of the magical stalk, bringing a double round of enjoyment – both for me and to share long distance with my mom.

amaryllis rebloom And then, wonders of wonders: yet another stalk began to climb—stretching upward toward the still-present blooms. And as this latest stalk (the bulb’s third in as many months) reached its lofty destination, the final bloom from the second stalk completed its own cycle.

For me, an amaryllis bulb is no longer simply a mysterious gift from within my childhood garden. It is also both memory and a reminder of the magical beauty that exists in the world. Or, as Muriel Barbery writes in The Elegance of the Hedgehog, an “odd moment of beauty, where time is no longer the same….[rather] a sort of interlude in time, something suspended, an elsewhere that ha[s] come to us.”

May your own life be blessed with many “odd moments of beauty” that both suspend and transcend time, while linking you with thoughts and memories of those whom you love.

Image credits:

1) Amaryllis from Clearly Ambiguous Flickr (cc) Some Rights Reserved

2) Amaryllis Rebloom by Mary Elaine Kiener, RN, PhD (cc) Some Rights Reserved

by mary elaine kiener Leave a Comment

Crime Took a Holiday–Meaning-Making in Everyday Life

Crime Took a Holiday: Meaning-Making in Everyday Life

[printable pdf version]

No crimes to report

Thursday, November 6, 2008. The email message was rather brief: “No crimes to report for Wednesday 11-5.” Each weekday, my local police department sends out a Daily Crime Report via email, detailing such things as “aggravated assault,” “property damage,” “larceny,” “B&E”, and so forth.

“How interesting,” I thought, and found myself pondering whether there was any meaning to be found in the apparent non-occurrence of violence. Was it mere coincidence that no crime occurred the day following Obama’s election?

Would you like a story with that happening?

As the days unfold, life continues to happen-around us and to us. Much of the time, we do not even pay attention. Every once in awhile, something begins to reach for our awareness and grab our attention, pressing our inner “pause” buttons. For example, one day we might stop to notice something beautiful in nature. We might take a deep breath of acknowledgement and gratitude and then simply continue with our day (albeit with an extra smile in our heart).

At other times, we hold on to that something, so that we can carry it with us. Most often, we do this by giving it a story. So now, we have something to play repeatedly in our head.

What happens when we become stuck in our own stories – in the drama of our lives? As we continue to collect and hold on to our stories, the load gets heavier and it becomes harder for us to move forward.

Don’t get me wrong. There is nothing wrong with a good story. Rather, it is helpful for us to consider the net effect of each story we create. Does our story help us take a step forward into living, or does it hold us back within a quagmire of emotional stuckness?

Which way forward?

There are varieties of creative methods to help us change negative stories into more helpful, positive stories. I invite you to follow along as I share a few examples:

Re-script the scene

Many years ago, my late husband, Alex flat-out disagreed with a choice that I had made. His response to my announcement was an emphatic “I cannot support this.” The more I replayed that scene in my head, I found myself feeling more frustrated and angry with both Alex and myself, as well as unable to move forward in the direction I had chosen.

However, I took the opportunity to re-script the scene to include some additional verbiage from Alex. To his terse statement of “I cannot support this”, I added the following dialogue: “…..right now, based on my current understanding of the situation. I love you and am afraid that you will get hurt. Maybe, over time, I can feel more confident and be able to give you more support.”

This new script helped free me from my own negative emotional response, as it allowed me to move forward slowly in the direction I knew I needed to go. This process also provided a compassionate space of understanding between Alex and me, which then offered him an opportunity to observe and grow more comfortable with the situation.

Call it what it is

I had been finding myself increasingly uncomfortable whenever I heard someone use the phrase, “You need to get out of your comfort zone.” Somehow, adding a layer of guilt for my supposed laziness did not seem to encourage me to spring into action-especially if it entailed the certainty of more discomfort.

Yet, when I examined my image of “comfort zone,” I discovered that within this context, it more closely resembles a “fear zone” in which I become imprisoned. Allowing myself to simply acknowledge and name the current fear-along with my stated goal-is often enough to help me step outside the zone of fear.

Reframe the story

Recently, a friend reported that she was experiencing a “fear of success” that threatened to keep her from doing what she needed to help grow her business. She made a decision to acknowledge and befriend her sense of fear within a spirit of caring, compassionate curiosity.

The next morning, she excitingly shared that what she had previously defined as fear, had begun to shift. Instead, she had awoken with a sense of a growing “readiness to learn” the next new thing that awaited her.

Deciding how much to believe of our stories

In 1824, in “Tales of a Traveler,” Washington Irving confessed, “I am always at a loss to know how much to believe of my own stories.” Sometimes, as in the case of the curious non-crime report, the veracity of any specific cause-effect story would be hard to prove, so it obviously would not be the type of story to proclaim as absolute truth.

On the other hand, if any of my own personal stories helps to propel me forward into positive action (especially if I do not require anyone else to accept or approve it), then I am willing to welcome the creative opportunity into my life.

Image Credits (unless otherwise noted, all on Flickr (cc) Some Rights Reserved) :

1. Oh Happy Day by Mary Elaine Kiener (cc) Some Rights Reserved

2. Rewritten Sign by The Loopweaver

3. Reframing by AmyMo

by mary elaine kiener Leave a Comment

The meaning of “home”…..

I’m heading back home tomorrow. It’s Wednesday, January 2 and I’ve been here in Cleveland with my mom since Sunday evening, November 25–having been called back at that time after only 2 days back at home in Lansing. And in all of October and November, I had spent less than 30 days at home.

Much of that time (except for several business and family-related trips sandwiched in between), I was again with mom–coordinating the move to her new home within the retirement community in which she’s lived for the past 8 years: from her 3-room apartment on and independent-living floor to one room on the assisted living floor. Following a fall (and a broken hip) last May, Mom had spent the summer and fall shuttling back and forth between rehab/skilled care, respite and the hospital. All in all, about 6 transfers within a 5 month period.

So it wasn’t surprising to have her wonder aloud at one point in August: “When do I go HOME?” Of course, the question became even more poignant as I invited her to clarify what she had meant by “home.” Had she meant her 3 bedroom apartment (which I had begun to realize no longer held her “aura”–although it still contained her furniture and belongings)? Was it the family home on Edison Road–where she had lived with Dad for most her marriage and raised her family? Or did she mean she was ready to die (to go be with Dad, who died nearly 20 years ago)? At that moment, she wasn’t able to offer a distinct answer to my question–except that she found herself getting confused when she tried to picture and/or remember where various mementos, furnishings and other belongings were currently located. However, she also added that “no, I don’t think I mean that [i.e., going to be with Dad].

In light of her responses, I found her description of dream she had had of my dad the night after our conversation to be particularly fascinating. She reported that Dad had appeared wearing a long white robe (like a priest’s alb) and that they sat together on a park bench talking for a long time. Then, suddenly, Dad moved quickly away from her–as if he were in a hurry.

November 8–her 93rd birthday was also the day we moved her into her new 1-room home, having accomplished the physical consolidation and move of her furnishings and belongings the week before. I had been intrigued that her new room–filled with her most meaningful things and decorated with a wealth of photos that summarize her family life–already contained her spirit, even though she had not yet set foot inside the door.

Throughout the months of November and December, I suspect that she has struggled (in her spirit) with her own sense of home. Caught between the losses inherent in the downsizing process and the stability offered by our promise that she would not need to fear another transfer, I expect that she’s needed to decide on at least one level whether she has “enough” to continue on. Is there enough to make her life meaningful and purposeful?

My month with Mom was fascinating and inspiring, to say the least. I was privileged to serve as witness as she apparently made the decision that she could and would salvage what’s left of her life to keep on.

And now, as I prepare to return home, I find myself exploring what “home” means to me. My friends have assured me that my aura remains strong in the dwelling that I’ve called home for 18 years. I’ll be spending some time however, inviting a sense of curiosity about the sense and concept of home.

I’d love to hear what it means to you.