a brand of empowerment

What does it mean to be empowered?

I reflected on this after I dropped out of the Landmark Forum.  It attempted to patent my empowerment. I resent any ownership of me.  I accept full responsibility for myself.  So I left.  And I committed to branding my own empowerment. 

What is empowerment?  And why will some  give up their freedom to someone else to achieve it?  Isn't that paradoxical?  Can one be empowered when they give themselves to others?  I find myself thinking of love as I write this question.  But what I witnessed was the giving over of power to overcome fear, not for love.  In this state, could this really be empowerment?  

I don't think so.  It is choosing one authority (fear) for another (the landmark forum). 
 
I believe we are empowered.  We live in an empowered state.  It doesn't come to us.  It reveals itself as a perfect already achieved state.  Give up the belief that empowerment lives with someone else. Give up the restrictions your mind.  Give up what others think of you.  Give up the padding, the protection and the blinders that prevent you from seeing yourself and your potential.  It is clear we are pure empowered potential and energy.  We are limitless.     

When we deliberately place ourselves in the direction of our goals a synchronicity will unfold. Goals are achievable and achieved, allies emerge, love expands, tribes find you, networks multiply.  Being deliberate is engagement and commitment to personal empowerment.  Being deliberate is difficult and requires much: Vision. Consistency. Belief. Courage. Faith.  Commitment.  And there is much that holds us back: The Status Quo. Culture. Community. Friendships. Love, yes, love.  Family.  Demands. Our Minds. 

And don't forget non-conformity.  It is required for true empowerment in almost any arena;  health, fitness, success, finance, family, love.

 And I think that is the rub.  The same forces that empower us keep us back. 

Extremes are just the opposite bends of a outfacing circle, connected but unaware of each other. Creating space for both, holding and observing them simultaneously.  This is empowerment.  It is a choice to love it all.  And in loving it all, in those moments, days and even weeks, I feel the most freedom, empowerment and courage to be deliberate.      

Chocolate Fix Trail Mix

Everyone just needs a little fix of chocolate sometimes and this one is guilt and sugar free.  The right ratio of coconut, raisins and chocolate per bite and you won't notice that there isn't sugar in the chocolate.  

Here is what you need:

Equal partsof each for one serving about 1/8 cup of each does the trick. 

• Baking chocolate broken into chocolate chip sized bits
• Raisins
• Coconut flakes

Mix together in a bowl.

Eat like trail mix. 

You could add nuts if you like as well.  You could also blend this is your vitamix for a larabar. 

Judge and Coach

Me, a judge?  At crossfit?  I’m definitely not qualified.  What was I thinking? 

 I’m crossfit newborn, only 3 months old.  And like a baby, I’m absorbing all the details with wide eyes and little understanding.   The language is foreign: AMRAPs, TANAKA, HSPU, Wall Climbs, cleans, jerks, snatches, 1 rep maxes and all for times and PRs.  It is a lot to understand at 6 am and there are times when I just  give up and think “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it”. But I’m curious.  What is it all about?  It does make me push myself beyond the gym.  Why?  How does it work?  What’s a competition like?

I joined crossfit because I want to get pushed past my limit.  I like to feel strong and to progress.  And I am.  But a judge?    I’ve never done a Squat Clean and Press before.  I’m still trying to get my butt under my knees as I squat and largely struggling.  Yet, as a judge I’m responsible to claim reps for athletes that can squat further than my tight hamstrings will ever allow.   Is that hypocritical?

Saturday, I was a judge at crossfit Resolution Revlotion 2 competition despite my reservations.  My job was to count repetitions and to make sure that competitor’s form was adequate.  I was overwhelmed and unsure.  Would I be able to even notice if shoulders were locked, squats were low, deadlifts were set down instead of dropped?    

It was a grey and drizzly day that chills to the bone.  My toes and fingers were completely numb in thirty minutes.  The entire competition was outside in the street outside the crossfit box.  The Workout of the Day (WOD) consisted of 2 minutes each of jump rope double unders, 60 heavy Squat Clean and Presses, 4 hill runs, 100 burpees and another heavy 50 deadlifts shared equally between a male and female team.  And it must all be completed in 45 minutes. 

In plain language, my first judging assignment sucked.  I was assigned to stand at the top of the hill in the rain to make sure athletes reached the line at the top before moving down.  It was cold.  It was raining.  The athletes were in pain.  I hear that hill is a 60% grade and I’ve run it before, it knocks you down a few notches.       

Following this, I had two solid heats to judge.  There were “lanes” drawn in kids chalk on the concrete street.  I took over lane 6 of 9.  My first couple were from a different crossfit box and dressed in florescent yellow.  She had on a black and yellow tutu and could squat lower than my tight hamstrings may ever let me.  I admired her strength,  a front squat of 105 lbs is impressive.    They were nervous and amped, fidgety as they readied themselves. 

And then the clock started.  The fun began. 

I know that a judge’s job is to keep the athletes accountable.  But I admire the pursuit of one’s potential.  I admire people that seek it in almost any noble form.  I couldn’t be so close without pushing them forward in whatever way I could.  I had to cheer them on too. 

I kept them going with the count, encouraging each one as they hit near their limit.  “Only two left!”  “just  Seven, Eight, nine”  and “you are at 95 now”.  “Next time, 25 reps each”.   “You got this one”  And of course “Excellent, awesome job!”  

I literally felt their pain as they lifted the weight, my thighs burned and my back hurt during deadlifts.  I was part of their team, not just an observer but part of their race.  I wanted them to keep going and I gave them whatever energy I could to ensure their success.  This is coaching, not judging.  I transferred my power to someone else, placed it in their hands and empowered them.  I got lost in it. I found my flow. 

It was a grueling workout.  The male competitor in the first workout was in so much pain by mid-workout he could barely move.  His jumps barely lifted from the ground and I had to warn him to get some air in them or I wouldn’t count them.  His eyes were glazed, he moved through them at a crawl.  He looked like he would pass out more than once. The second heat, an athlete turned to me halfway through her burpess and said “I’m going to throw up”.   Her face was so sincere and pained, it stopped me mid-cheer.  I believed her.   But to her credit, she took a break then hit the WOD slowly and completed in under the required 45 minutes. 

I admire the determination, the resolve, the persistence.  Each athlete bumped up against their limits and pushed hard. 

The end of my first heat, the athlete in the yellow tutu said I was the best judge ever.  It was awesome.     

An Authentic Revelation

I am a Landmark Forum drop out and I’m proud. 

 At first, I wasn’t proud.  I was confused and sick to my stomach.  I don’t like to quit but I’m not a follower either.  When I balanced the two, it turns out I dislike being treated like cattle more than feeling like a quitter.  So I quit. 

 But my out, my trapdoor, the easy excuse, was that I didn’t exactly know why I was there; maybe to motivate me at work, maybe to help me with my goals and to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, maybe to find balance in a mid-life crisis.  I definitely didn’t want to bring my personal relationships into the Forum.  From the beginning, I didn’t trust Landmark.  I had heard stories about cults, Jedi mind tricks and high pressure sales.  I was skeptical and self-protective. 

 I went because I indefinably knew that I needed a push.  I didn’t really know in what direction or where, but something had to give.  I was not satisfied and I was pulling Blugh down with me.  

 And I got a push.  A push so hard that I had to jump before I went flying off a cliff.  But I did get the push I needed. 

The Landmark Forum set me in a new direction in my relationships with Blugh and my friends.  It lifted a veil, a thin film, that had blurred the people around me and suddenly I saw them in high definition, real, near, sharp, and focused.  I could almost physically grasp and suddenly hear the inner-dialogue the people were having with themselves, about themselves and in relation to me.    

What did this was a simple realization at the Forum.   

 Since even before my father’s death, I have created an elaborate story about impermanence, change and death. Everything changes, people are unreliable, come and go and will eventually disappear.  

 As a result, I've put barriers up to prevent me from truly connecting with people or being authentic.  I’ve done this in a way that is subtle, manipulative and settles the fault squarely on the shoulders of the people around me.

 I am a manipulator. I am addicted it. It makes me feel safe, independent and free.  It has also isolated me. 

 I have abused and manipulated my husband.  I created a fairy tale about us.  In this story I have set up excuse time bombs so that I would have a list of abuses (all his fault) when we ended. 

 I'm a shithead.  I'm a manipulator.  I'm addicted to this behavior. And when I told him this, he kind-of already knew it.

I love him.  I clearly see that he is the love of my life.  I’m completely committed to him.  We are strong partners and have a brilliant life together.  But this is a terrifying realization in an impermanent world. When will it end?  How can I protect myself from that pain?  In the past, I have tried not to feel it, denied it, and even strategized an end to it. 

 I directed our story to ensure my control, unhappiness and my righteousness.  And justified it because it will all end anyway. 

These thoughts and actions are inauthentic.  And I don’t want to be. It will not lead me to happiness.   
 The Landmark reminded me that I want love without preconditions and self-righteous stories.  I want to live with loved ones free of my fear.  I want liberty from the isolation fear has created.  And I’m committed to intentionally creating connection and authentic relationships.

Finally, the Landmark Form reminded me to take full responsibility for the state of my life and relationships.  I have created them and am responsible for them.  As such, I am capable and will create my way into fuller, more meaningful and strengthened relationships. 

 These were the lessons I took away from the Landmark Forum: 

·         Many of my stories about my relationships are false.

·         If I believe and act on them I am inauthentic and isolating myself

·         I am responsible for the state of my life and relationships. 

 They are important lessons that unlock destiny and promise a more fulfilling life.   Thank you Landmark Forum. 

 But I’m begrudgingly grateful. 

 I left the Landmark Forum for two reasons.  First, so I could keep my learnings unspoiled from the cult, the mind tricks, manipulation and the psychological marketing that could so easily dirty them.  And yes, the rumors of these features were true.  Second, I accept the Landmark dare.  Repeatedly, in the Forum we were told that we could not achieve our own empowerment and transformation without the Landmark Forum.  That is nonsense.  Full responsibility means full empowerment.  I’m the only one that can provide that gift, not the Landmark Forum, not my husband, my kids or any other loved one.  Full access to my empowerment is in my own hands.   I accept the responsibility.   

 

Where the dead live

Why do we bury our dead? We insist on placing them in space. We fix them permanently when they are so obviously transient. 
 
I wondered this as I peered at rows and rows of perfectly straight bleached headstones; bone clean, pristine bystanders overlooking the San Diego cliffs.  The sun rinsed them as the sea spray sanded them clean. Perpetually baptized this way, these mini-lithic effigies peer down at the harbor and downtown's metallic spray of skyscrapers. From Point Loma, the gravestones frame downtown San Diego like patient mystics bobbing their knowing heads. This too shall pass. Dust to dust.  A reminder that everything ends.   
 
As we drove up the Point towards my father's grave my three-year-old told stories. There are monsters here. The skeletons will get us. The only protection from his imagination was the blue sky, the warmth of the sun, the vibrant green crab grass, and the friendly rolling hills.
 
I told my kids we were going to see my father and their grandfather. Someone who loved them both very much. But he insists this is a scary place.
 
A cemetery is a time machine.  A place where we can walk across death and reach out to the ones we loved and still love. They are places of love. They cradle our faith in life. Hug our memories tightly. They make lost time real and emotion tangible. We honor ourselves, our ancestors, our mortality when we visit them. They ground us.
 
I tell my children that their grandfather is everywhere, in our hearts, in our blood, in our trees and in the air. He is everywhere like all of us will be when we die.  We are all connected. 
 
Yet as we drove to his grave, I knew I was going to him. It is his place. This cemetery is my father's home. It is where he is.
 
I was taut as we drove through his lot’s gates.  I did not know where he was exactly.  I knew we were close.  I was feeling my way back to him, remembering coordinates from a pilgrimage made thirteen year ago.
 
When we parked, I pulled Dana along with me to the end of the last row of headstones. My father's ashes are in a wall, a plaque with his name, birth and death year. The wall reaches from one end of the cemetery to the other. The plaques extend up ten high and deeper than I can remember.  I wondered how I could remember where he was in the undeviating grid. But the instant I had the thought, I spotted him.  In complete focus. All other plaques blurred and dispersed.
 
He is squatting height on the wall and in an indiscernible spot.  His location is my beacon.  His plaque’s power is unique to me.
 
I placed my hand on him and pull my daughter closer to me. Years of tears were jerked from me. This was the first time they met.  Dana my father meets Dana my daughter. 
 
When Daire arrives, I pull both kids tight to me and present my family.  I want him to be proud. 
 
After my family retreats to the car, a disarray of light, color, images, sound, animation, smells cascade around me.  My father's face, his words, his support, images of dying, my childhood, his hug, his smell, his laughter .  Emotions that only rise in my father’s presence, feeling that are only feelings for my father. They bath me. I’m cleansed. I remember him and in doing so remember who I am.
 
The plaque was stone and cold under my hands. I kiss his name and feel his closeness. I inventory 15 years. "Am I doing the right thing?”  I ask him. “Am I doing ok?"  I think so but I don't really know.
 
But I have peace. I have peace with death. As I live my life fully, I have peace as I follow his footsteps.
 
And I’m grateful for the power of his place.

 

Fruit Skewers

I've got to play with this recipe as it was a big hit that I think could even be better.  The fruit is amazing off the grill and the coconut adds crunch and sweetness.  Lovely. 

What you need.
Fruit for skewers sliced into chunks and in a bowl ready to marinade. 

These two were amazing:

• pineapples
• nectarines

I think these would be good to:

• mango
• banana
• apricots
• plums
• peaches

marinade:
1/4 cup coconut oil
1/4 cup mix of fresh coconut, macadamia nuts and raw cashews chopped coarsely.
Sea salt

To do:

1. Heat up the coconut oil and melt over medium flame.
2. Add the nuts and gently brown them for flavor.
3. Marinade the fruit in the oil for at least 30 minutes
4. Create colorful skewers with the fruit
5. Sprinkle with sea salt
6. Grill to a sear but don't overcook.

Watch out, they explode in your mouth.  Wow.

Mouth Watering Shrimp & Chicken Skewers

I just returned from a weekend at a friend's cabin.  We had a lovely dinner on the lake by the fire pit and savored some skewers grilled on the open fire.  The marinade was an experiment that turned divine.  It really made the chicken and shrimp sparkle. The nectarines and pineapple are like fireworks from the grill. 

What you need:
1/2 pound of chicken cut into large cubes
1/2 pound shrimp (uncooked)
1/2 cup white balsamic vinegar
2/3 cup avocado oil
2 tablespoons herbs de Provence
a pineapple - sliced into chunks
a couple bell peppers - sliced into chunks
3-4 nectarines - sliced into chunks
1/2 onion - sliced into chunks.
1/2 pint of Cherry tomatoes
Other spearable fruits and vegetables. 

To do..
1.  Marinate the chicken and shrimp in the vinegar, oil and herbs for at least a half hour.
2.  Create skewers with colorful stacks of fruits, vegetables, shirmp and chicken.
3. Grill over the flames until shrimp are pink and chicken is cooked through. 

Best to be eaten in the outdoors, preferably with a view of the lake or beach.  :)