Tag Archives: peace

We Gather Together: or How to Have a Happy Thanksgiving 2016

IMG_0091Thanksgiving is here and families are assembling from all corners of the country.  And unless you come from a family I didn’t know existed, this year brings with it a new challenge, on top of the usual political, religious, sexual, gender, racial, and on and on differences.  This year all of us…ALL of us…experienced something that let’s be honest:  blew us away.  A business man is going to be the 45th president of the United States of America…and it has a lot of people…well, feeling pretty un-united.  This is problematic in too many ways to opine about now, plus I’m probably not smart enough to make any fetching points that haven’t already been made by people like David Remnick and Noam Chomsky.  (Now you know who I voted for.  And why my teenager says, I shouldn’t post this because when you talk about politics, you get “butt hurt” for it.)  I don’t even want to know what that means.  But I am sure:  we all need to find our Thanksgiving gratitude.  So…

I’m not here to talk about politics today.   I’m here to write about something I’m truly worried about for us as a nation:  How to make Thanksgiving work this year.  Really work.  Uh oh…I smell a top ten list coming on.  As you might have noticed, I loathe top ten lists.  But this year…we need to boil some sh** down.  So here goes.  No hate mail please.  I’m trying to help:

1)    Maybe don’t bring up politics or religion AT ALL, and I mean a total moratorium on both of them.  Like even in the family Grace and in the What I’m Grateful For thing.  Talk about the weather.  Talk about the gravy.  Talk about why you love the person sitting next to you.  Talk about the walk you’re going to take after the meal, and on the walk after the meal, don’t talk about anything other than the weather and why you love the person you’re walking with and what you’re going to buy on Black Friday, especially if it’s at your local independantly owned mom and pop shop.  Wait– stay off the homogenization of America theme.  Maybe go back to why you love the person walking next to you and call it good.

2)    Maybe, unless you’re from Cleveland, talk about the Cubs winning the World Series.  And if you are from Cleveland, talk about what a super bitching game it was all the way to the end.

3)    Maybe…be the artsy token weird aunt and say, “Why don’t we take a vow of silence during our meal, in honor of the Pilgrims and how they felt silenced enough to leave their country and fight for their religious freedom.”  Oops.  Axe that.  We’re not bringing up religion or politics, remember.  Or race relations.  Maybe just take a vow of silence.

4)    Maybe ask the host to give you a play by play break down of how she/he cooked the turkey.  If she/he brined…FABULOUS.  This will take up at least ½ an hour of the meal and the pride which he/she deserves will gush.  Gushing joy and pride is a good thing in the way of feeding loved ones.  Let’s raise the rafters on that!  (True to the holiday, we’re going for gratitude.)  If he/she deep fried the bird, you can compliment them on their rogue courage.  If she/he basted every half an hour and made their own giblet gravy, you can take deep bows and call them Martha Stewart.  If you need more content, you can ask them about their position on to stuff or not to stuff.IMG_0097

5)    Maybe play an after meal family game.  Like Pictionary.  Or Scattegories.  Just stay away from Celebrity Apprentice the Board Game, and Bridge.

6)    Maybe decide that this is the year where you truly will put your unconditional love barometer to the test.  Love them all.  Love them especially because they voted for someone you couldn’t stand.  Love them for their differences.  Love them for the conversation that is behind it all:  I need to believe in something.  Everyone is scared.  Voting shows hope.  And that’s what we want in the end:  a hopeful nation.

7)    If you are in grief over the election, find someone who is too and talk to them.  Do it privately in hushed tones.  Is stirring the pot, or even raging at a friend or family member (or some random innocent who was invited last minute) going to help anyone, especially you?

8)    If you are in victory over the election, see #7 and do the same.

9)    Maybe sing Kum-bah-yah and mean it.  It just means Come by Here, which is what you did in trusting sacred traditions and the community of family and friends.  Sing it loud.  Sing it proud.  Sing it because you have the freedom to sing in the first place, no matter who you did or didn’t vote for.  Maybe dust off your old Free to Be You and Me album and sing along!  (maybe skip William Has a Doll)

10) And ten…maybe have a dry Thanksgiving to keep the fight, the right, the wrong, the very ugly out of it.  Or heck, if you’re in MA, CA, OR, WA, NV, or CO, pass a joint around.  Oh wait.  Don’t talk about that either.  Stick to the “this is what I love about you” theme.

May we all enjoy peace this holiday season.  Let love and gratitude show us the way.


IMG_0093Peace and love, (and some humor for crying out loud)

Laura

Are you longing to say what you want to say?  Find your voice?  Haven Writing Retreats is now booking for 2018.  The gift of voice awaits you in the woods of Montana.

Now Booking Haven Writing Retreats 2018

You do NOT have to be a writer to come– just a seeker who loves the written word, and trusts the power of the wilderness of our Montana Haven to inspire the wilderness of your unique mind!  Come find your voice this February…  For more info, and to contact the Haven team, go here!

February 28-4 (a few spaces left)
April 18-22
May 16-20
September 19-23
September 26-30
October 3-7 & October 24-28

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Haven Health Series #4

“Soup is cuisine’s kindest course.”- Virginia Woolf

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We have just a few more spaces left on our 2016 Haven Writing Retreat calendar!

October 5-9 (full)

October 19-23 (a few spaces left!!!)

To schedule a phone call to learn more about the retreat, go to the Contact Us button here.

 

The days of summer are quickly coming to a close but the windows of winter fruits and vegetables are opening, especially with this gorgeous fruit. Yes, butternut squash is a FRUIT!

squash

With a sweet and nutty taste similar to pumpkin, butternut squash is an excellent source of fiber, vitamin C, vitamin A, vitamin E, manganese, magnesium, and potassium. Just what a writer needs to keep the heart and mind healthy and writing, writing, writing.

This recipe comes from Michelle Berry, chef extraordinaire of the Haven Writing Retreats. In each bite, love, comfort and wellness dances on the tongue.

So, take some time out of your day and give yourself something that makes you feel good. In a big bowl!

Your belly will thank you.

 

Recipe #1: CUP O’ COMFORT aka Butternut Squash Soup

Butternut Squash Soup

 

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Haven Health Series #3

With this next delicious concoction, unlock the power and brilliance of your beautiful minds.

BeautifulMind_019

We have just a few more spaces left on our 2016 Haven Writing Retreat calendar!

September 21-25 (full)
October 5-9 (full)

October 19-23 (a few spaces left!!!)

To schedule a phone call to learn more about the retreat, go to the Contact Us button here.

This may shock you:

Beethoven reportedly drank wine about as often as he wrote music.  Stephen King doesn’t remember writing Cujo.  Even Maya Angelou loved her sherry.

They all were quite likely deeply sensitive people who didn’t know how to handle all that they perceived.  So they went into F**k It mode.  I know F**k It mode well.  People don’t have a lot of tolerance for it.  They think it’s an affront on them.  They think it’s a lack of self-control.  They think that it’s weak.  When in reality, it is an inability to know what to do with all those feelings.  All that empathy.  Booze and drugs stop the empathy.  At least that’s the illusion.

And it’s not just artists.  It’s anyone who feels deeply, as a rule.

So if we’re empowering ourselves as the deeply feeling people that we are, what if we were to look at it like when we are feeling, without blocking that flow, we are strong!  We are complete!  Those feelings can’t take us down!  It’s the fear of them which is the problem.  And an altered mind doesn’t give us all the fortification we need to fight the fear.  Or, as I like to think instead, to love that fear into submission.

So how do we break old behavioral patterns, how do we train ourselves out of old thought patterns which find us in a place of suffering, woe, and even self-harm, self-loathing, or even self-violence?  My way is gentle and luxuriant.  Yes, it has to do with the awareness that we even have these patterns in the first place.  But why not meet ourselves in this place with radical self-care in the most loving and gentle way…and easy?

To read more from this essay, click here.

For two weeks Haven Blog will feature custom drinks that you can make at home.  They are designed by master mixologist, Meagan Schmoll of Whitefish, Montana, to help your state of being in the way that you so desire.  And they are alcohol free.  Enjoy!  yrs.  Laura

BeautifulMind_001

Drink #3: BEAUTIFUL MIND…

*served over ice

2 oz Oolong *Strong Tea*

1.5 oz Fresh Orange Juice

0.25 oz Clover Honey

0.5 oz Genesis’ Traditional Balsamic

3 Strawberries

1 Cinnamon stick

 BeautifulMind_002

 

*Strong Tea*

3 tea bags or 9 grams of Oolong Tea

8 oz Boiling water

Let steep for 20 Minutes

Remove Tea and let cool

 

BeautifulMind_004

 

Place Strawberries, Cinnamon Stick and Honey in a pint glass. Muddle until Strawberries are squished thoroughly and cinnamon stick crunched well.

 Add remaining ingredients.

Add ice.

 

 

 

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Place shaker tin on top of pint glass giving it a firm tap.

Turn it over so the tin is in your bottom hand and the pint glass is in your top hand.

Give it a good hearty shake.  

 

 

Strain from pint glass into an ice filled rocks glass, some refer to this as a Double Old Fashioned.

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Garnish with half of an orange wheel, cinnamon stick and strawberry in a way the makes you feel creative and take a sip delighting in your Beautiful Mind.

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Photo credits: Katy Bell

Drink credits:  Meagan Schmoll

Instagram @katybellkaty @lmschmoll #RaskolDrink #embellishpictures

 

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Haven Health Series #2

May this next recipe bring you tranquility, self-care, and a yummy elixir to inspire.

We have just a few more spaces left on our 2016 Haven Writing Retreat calendar!

September 21-25 (full)
October 5-9 (full)

October 19-23 (a few spaces left!!!)

To schedule a phone call to learn more about the retreat, go to the Contact Us button here.

It’s time to end the tortured artist paradigm.  I’m on a mission to change that into the empowered artist’s reality!  I think that art, namely writing since that’s my medium, should be up there with diet and exercise in the realm of preventative wellness.  We all need healthy access to our self-expression and our artists show us the way.  We simply can’t have our artists sick and tortured any more.  We need them.  Artists are not looking at the world in ways that pit one against another.  We don’t look at the world in opposition, victory or loss.  We look at the world for what it is and depict it as truthfully as we can.  And in-so-doing, we hope to build bridges.  We hope to do as many South Africans have learned and find Umbuntu—love and compassion for all people.

Self-care:  That word scares me.  Maybe it scares you too.  It sounds hard.  It doesn’t have to be.  I invite us to start with some simple things.  Like a walk in the woods.  Like homemade bone soup that’s been simmering on the stove for twelve hours.  Like Epsom salt baths with eucalyptus and a Mexican cocoa candle.  Like essential oils of clary sage, frankincense, and wild orange by your bed.  Like Arnica salve, infused from the forest floor.  Like early mornings in bed with your journal.  And some very excellent beverages along the way that are as healing as they are delicious:  like ginger tea, like guava kombucha, like rooibos muddled with mint over ice.

Sure, maybe one day we can be Jesus in the desert, or Mandela in the prison cell, and strip ourselves of all earthly delights in order to truly swallow ourselves whole.  But for now, let’s be kind to ourselves, and meet ourselves with love, compassion, forgiveness, and little rituals that go a long way.

To read more from last week’s installment, click here:

For two weeks Haven Blog will feature custom drinks that you can make at home.  They are designed by master mixologist, Meagan Schmoll of Whitefish, Montana, to help your state of being in the way that you so desire.  And they are alcohol free.  Enjoy!  yrs.  Laura

ThePauliNoun_004

Drink #2: TRANQUILITY…

“The Pali Noun”  *served hot

2 oz Chamomile Lavender *Strong Tea*

1/2 a spoonful of Blackstrap Molasses

Orange Pigtail created with a channel knife or a twist expressed and curled into a tea cup.

 

Start the Kettle…

Create an orange pigtail or a twist and express it over your tea cup, allowing the oils to coat the inside.

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Add a half a spoon of Blackstrap Molasses

Place 3 chamomile lavender tea bags in.

Once the kettle is boiling pour roughly 8 oz 

Stir so the molasses blends with the tea

Sip and let the tranquility seep into your bones with the Pali Noun.

ThePauliNoun_3

Photo credits: Katy Bell

Drink credits:  Meagan Schmoll

Instagram @katybellkaty @lmschmoll #RaskolDrink #embellishpictures

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Breaking Point: #5

I am hosting an end-of-winter series featuring stories from the trenches of pain.  My hope is that in sharing these breaking points, we will feel less alone.  Thank you all for your bravery.  You are helping the world to heal.  To participate and for more info go here.

yrs. Laura

Today we have two stories, one of breaking, one of healing.

Breaking Point

Submitted by: Anonymous

In life we all have what we may consider to be broken moments, and certainly when we look back through our lives, we see times which, whilst we didn’t realise it at the time, appear to have been devastatingly painful.  I look back at the last three years of my father’s life and wonder why on earth I wasn’t there to support my parents when they were going through the most difficult of times.  But those times were their broken moments and during those times, I had left home, started my career, married life and a new family.  I lived some two hundred miles away and, I know that isn’t too far, but we get caught up trying to follow our own paths.

My own broken moment which sent me reeling into what felt like myriad broken moments which would never stop breaking me down, happened on Friday 20th May 2011.  My husband of almost twenty-one years told me on that day at about 2pm in the afternoon that our marriage was over.

We were at work, in his office, we work in the same school, he is a teacher, I’m one of the librarians.  He told me that we couldn’t carry on being married, his feelings for another were too strong for him to ignore and that he would leave me and our two daughters as soon as he could find somewhere else to stay.  He had intimated to me a couple of weeks beforehand that he had started to have feelings for this third party but had sworn there and then, seeing my reaction of fear, loss and desperation, that we could try and work out what went wrong between us, that he would be completely committed to trying to find a journey that we could take together in the future and look after our girls.  That commitment lasted for about a week and then, when he saw the object of his desire, he knew that he didn’t want me.  It tookhim a further four or five days to tell me that it was the end.

After this devastating revelation, I was distraught and he took me home.  I was anxious about telling the children and my family what was happening.  The girls, unsurprisingly, took the news extremely badly and we are still very wary of thinking too much about the future and what it brings.  They are trying to rebuild their friendship with their Dad, as well as trust and confidence in him.  They are twelve and sixteen years of age.  It’s difficult to be faced with this situation at any time of life but with one entering puberty and the other about to sit some important exams, it’s been exceedingly hard for them.  Just when we, or rather I (the girls had long since established this fact), had finally accepted that he wasn’t going to return and had established his new life, he was admitted to a psychiatric ward about forty miles away as the doctor was worried he may commit suicide.  What he’d done finally hit home and, realizing that his children no longer wanted to see him or have him in their lives, was too unbearable for him.  I think he also realized what he’d done to me.  He survived this experience and we are currently trying to find a way forward, either together or separately.  We are all still here, thankful for sunny days and trying to enjoy moments which are not broken but fulfilling and peaceful.

 

“Healing in Relationships”

Submitted by: Don Stifler

All of a sudden we find ourselves in a broken relationship. It could be broken for any number of reasons. We may have caused it or we could be just the recipients of someone else’s issues. Regardless of who initiated this failure, we experience many feelings such as:

Anger

Hurt

Betrayal

Guilt

Loss of Self Esteem

A need for revenge

And too many more to list.

 

Forgiveness is confusing to many of us. What makes it confusing is we think that we need to condone the actions of others in order to forgive. Nothing is further from the truth. Forgiveness rarely addresses condoning the transgression. In fact the person or persons we may be forgiving
rarely understand our ability to forgive. Forgiveness is for the forgiver. We cannot really forgive another unless we can forgive ourselves.

Forgiving ourselves can be difficult if we feel we are the victim and have done nothing wrong.

Christ says “Forgive your Neighbor as you Forgive Yourself.” Boy, this is hard if you feel you have been wronged.

Think about this, “Life is a Participation Sport” It takes two to dance, there must be two to separate. Rarely can you slice a piece of bread so thin that there are not two sides to it.

Looking within can be a good place to start our recovery. Whether we feel we had a part in the failure of the relationship or not we muststart the process of forgiving ourselves. It all starts here with us. It does not involve the other party. We must address what we control and nothing else.

Every minute of every day God is there to love us and forgive, even if we really blew it. Should we do any less? In our humanity we make errors. Even if on purpose, we are allowed to ask for forgiveness. Therefore, this becomes the first KEY to Healing in Relationships.

The ability to forgive ourselves. It is not an option, it is a must. Christ did not say 7 times, He said 7 times 70. It becomes a time to remove our ego and ask for forgiveness of our own deeds known or unknown. A short prayer will start the process.

“Dear Lord, I ask your forgiveness for all that is known and unknown about my situation. Help to open my eyes and my heart to myself and to your love and forgiveness. Help me to accept responsibility for whatever actions or lack thereof that could have cause this riff and give me the strength to move forward in a more compassionate way with integrity and purpose and forgiveness of myself to allow me to offer forgiveness to others. Amen”

Joseph Girzone, the author, of the book “Joshua” and “Never Alone” described a process to help with forgiving. “If you can put yourself in the position of the one who is hurting you and realize the anguish they are going thru in their life at that moment, you can allow Anger to be replaced by Compassion, and with compassion can come forgiveness.

As stated above, when we forgive the person it does not mean we must condone their actions; it just means we forgive for forgiveness sake alone. Forgiveness is really a personal act to allow us to be free. When we forgive we do it for our reasons not the other persons. Often times they do not even understand our act of forgiveness and sometimes if they do it blows their mind.

My brother mentioned this when I was going through a divorce. He said Don do you want to be free. I said yes and he said the only way to be free is to forgive my spouse and her lover, my best friend. I chewed on this and worked through the forgiveness process. I was hurt, angry, felt betrayed. At that point it was not about me and all about them. But I wanted to be free and move on. So I sent each a letter stating my wish to forgive them and in fact I was forgiving them. I wasn’t condoning what had happened but I was forgiving them for what happened and at the same time was forgiving myself for any participation I had in creating this situation. Of course at the time, I felt blameless, but it sounded good. So in reality I had not done the whole job, because I held myself outside the situation.

This played on my mind. As I pondered this forgiveness thing I came to face my responsibility as a party to this situation, simply by not being stronger in developing my own relationship with my spouse. Once I realized this, I could truly forgive. My brother was right it blew their minds but I did not cause that or wish that.

I realized that nice people could make mistakes. These had nothing to do with me personally. They felt bad and guilty. I learned the value of compassion rather than anger. I did not have to take this as a personal attack on me. In effect I did not walk in their shoes.

I learned we do not control another soul. That the only way we have something is to be able to let it go. We can only be a magnet that attracts not one that hold and smothers.

By opening up to the prospect of forgiveness and compassion in any situation allows one to be very free. People want to be around me because I respect their freedom and space. This process was not without pain, sorrow, loss, but it was with tremendous growth and allows me to be the person I am supposed to be. Healed, loving and happy. I am a better person today. I learn from life and grow. The world of would of, could of or should of does not exist in my life. This is the moment. Learn from the past don’t live in the past.

Finally, my relationship with a loving god has made this all possible. I would not pretend to be able to do this alone

DJS

 

 

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The Ultimate Thumbs Up.


Thumbs Up by Laura Munson

The other day I was driving my kids to music lessons after school. My son was wondering if his guitar was in the car and I told him “It’s in the back,” pointing over my shoulder with my thumb. We were laughing about something at the time, so I was smiling as I did it. At that moment, something caught my eye and I looked to my right to see an elderly man, standing with a rake over a colossal leaf pile, giving me the thumbs up and mouthing, “Thank you” with a hearty grin in his lips and apple cheeks. My kids saw the whole thing too and as we put the pieces together we simultaneously burst out into laughter. What was a mother’s directions to her son became a compliment to an old man raking leaves. It was one of life’s rare moments of total gift. A misunderstanding just might have made someone’s day. The intention was absolutely impure. Misguided. Misunderstood. And still some good was done in the world at 3:30 on a Tuesday afternoon in a small Montana town in Fall.

And my kids and I started thinking, What if we went around just giving the thumbs up to random strangers all day? How would that make the world a better place? Would we have the guts? Could we climb so fully into the word “Unabashed?” We all decided we’d be too shy. It was too invasive. Who are we to deem someone else’s moment thumb’s up-worthy? What do we know? our inner voices hollered, preaching fear like our own personal televangalists, scoffing at us, bullying us, critiquing our every move.

It was my ten year old son who made a case for the thumbs up. “If it were me, I’d love it if someone gave me a random thumbs up.” Leave it to the very young to see past fear and to not yet be under the grips of inner destructive dialogue.

I was so accustomed to my inner verbal abuse that in order to face her, I had to name her. I call her My Evil Twin Sheila; she made her public debut in my book, THIS IS NOT THE STORY YOU THINK IT IS. We all have one and it helps to name it. For a while I thought I needed to make her die a violent death and cast her out to sea in a nailed down coffin. Lately I’ve learned that since I created her, and she’s highly immortal, it might be more productive to not be at war with her. To let her have her moment of chatter, but to smile at her, so afraid and so reactive, a scared little girl who thinks you have to fight to win. And in-so-doing, more and more, I love her into submission.

So I’ve been trying it, the public thumbs up. Why not? There’s no want of word exchange or even reaction. It’s just a simple gesture. Good job. Way to go. Excellent. It’s not just a social experiment on how we give and receive random acts of kindness, it’s about publicly declaring that which is right with the world. You’re taking a bike ride on a Sunday afternoon with your three year old? Thumbs up. You’re walking with your groceries instead of driving. Thumbs up. You’re sitting on a bench talking to a friend. Thumbs UP, man! You’re mowing the lawn in the rain with a smile on your face. You’re my freaking hero!

And it doesn’t have to stop there. We can give ourselves a thumbs up. We just finished folding three loads of laundry? We made homemade chicken stock? We took the time to do a puzzle with our kid? We invited the new guy at work out for lunch? Thumbs up.

Please enjoy the following lovely essay by the wonderful therapist, writer, and wise woman, Stephanie Baffone, who teaches us that we can practice giving ourselves a surprise thumbs up even when our internal dialogue wants to tell us that we’re fools. Let’s be fools, then, unabashed.

Take it, Stephanie:

I am the Ultimate by Stephanie Baffone

When I was in eighth grade, about fourteen years old, I fell in love. Not with some young, strapping, adolescent fresh-faced boy with peach fuzz perched over his top lip.
Nope.
Not even with a human.
I fell hard and fast for a word. When said out loud, the sound of it made me pass out like a fainting goat. It had an air of pretense, which must have been some sort of psychological projection on my part because I was hardly a pretentious girl. Pretense made me feel inferior but this word, strung together with seven perfect letters relegated me to the likes of a Marcia Brady type-the Marcia who pined away for Davy Jones from the Monkees.
The word was ultimate and when I prefaced it with the, I decided we should declare our love publicly.
“I am The Ultimate,” became the signature phrase I used to announce my triumphant arrival into a room. Arms open wide, forming a big Y over my head, I made a grand entrance one afternoon afterschool when I greeted my Mom in the kitchen.
My Mom came from hearty Irish stock and as my Dad says was, “a real lady.” My father embraced his self-appointed role as God’s laughter lieutenant and gravitates to the spotlight. My Mom, in contrast, preferred to play the part of a spectator. She raised the five of us to embrace humility and while she found us entertaining she went to great lengths to be sure we knew our place.
She canned applesauce every fall from the apples she and my aunt picked at our local orchard and taught us about the birds and the bees without one euphemism. On winter Sunday afternoons, she curled up in the crushed orange velvet recliner in her bedroom and soaked in the sunny spot by the sliding glass door. After reciting her daily rosary, she wandered off into the worlds that lived inside the stack of books resting on her glass-top table.
That fall afternoon, she must have had enough of my shenanigans and found my love affair with the word ultimate no longer tolerable or appropriate.
Still dressed in my Catholic school uniform, I hiked up my skirt and with my white blouse inching up over my belly I hopped up on the countertop and reached for a glass.
“I am The Ultimate,” I repeated; poking around in the cabinet propped up on the laminate, marble countertop.
Just as I found my favorite glass, my Mom tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Steffi, stop saying that.” She lent me her hand to get down. “It’s not very becoming.”
My identical twin sister, sat at the kitchen table, munching on a snack and laughed.
“Mooom! Seriously?!” I slid down from the counter. “I don’t actually think I am the ultimate. I just think that word is funny. It cracks me up.”
“Steffi, I know that but it’s just not funny and it’s certainly not becoming,” she walked over to the stove.
An early exchange like this between a mother and a daughter is a therapist’s playground. Clients internalize experiences with their parental figures that go on to form introjections, defined as “the internalization of the parent figures and their values; leading to the formation of the superego.”
The superego is the place inside us where the critical, punitive voice of our psyches resides. This part of our psyche buddies up with criticism like macaroni does with cheese. Think Laura’s critical voice “Shelia,” as she named and outed in her book.
That short exchange with my Mom, formed a personal introject for me that’s become a real stage five clinger.
I loved my Mom. I knew she believed in me and as daughters go, I think she actually thought I was the ultimate. I harbor no ill feelings toward her for saddling me with this introject. Her lesson on humility that day was taught with a spirit of love and compassion. Bravado, even if only in jest, from her perspective, for her children-had no comedic value.
My mother’s intent aside, what I’ve noticed is that I have a tendency to qualify myself, especially when people encourage me to believe in myself. My knee-jerk reaction is to make a mad dash to my emotional closet and don that pesky reminder that I am NOT the ultimate.
In sharing this story with others over the years what I’ve discovered is how important it is for me (and them too) to let go of the tired, worn-out introjects whose main jobs are to self-sabotage. I’m learning to replace those tired introjects with mantras more psychologically productive.
Recently, I stumbled across a useful exercise for doing just that. “Defeating Your Inner Critic,” was originally posted at QueryTracker.net as help to writers struggling to conquer and quiet their critical voice. This exercise is very effective and is not only useful for quieting the writer’s critical voice but for quieting our critical voice across the board, regardless of what in particular it is yapping about. I use it personally and also professionally in my psychology practice.
If you too are struggling with an old belief that plagues you with self-doubt and tempers belief in yourself, try these exercises. You might just discover that you indeed, are the ultimate.

Bio:
Stephanie Baffone, LPCMH, NCC is a licensed, board certified mental health therapist and writer in private practice with a specialty in grief and loss, couples counseling and issues related to infertility. Prior to going back into private practice, Stephanie worked as the coordinator of the children’s grief and loss program at the largest hospice in the state of Delaware where she had the distinct privilege of supporting and guiding children whose loved ones were dying from terminal illnesses.
Stephanie is a consultant to other agencies developing programs on grief and loss and is thrilled to be an expert columnist at Savvyauntie.com on the very same issues.
In addition to wife of husband who loves her like you see in the movies she is “Mom” to two dogs and two goats and “Aunt Steph,” (by relation) to thirty-nine nieces and nephews. She is working on a memoir, Doris, Sophia and Me: A Memoir About A Mother Who Didn’t Live Long Enough and A Daughter Who Was Never Born.
Stephanie is a proud graduate of Villanova University, a member of The American Counseling Association, National Board of Certified Counselors, RESOLVE, The American Fertility Association and the American Academy of Bereavement. Stephanie has been featured and used as a trusted source in print, radio and television media including, The Huffington Post, Counseling Today, First for Women Magazine, Blog Talk Radio, CN8 and WHYY.
The consummate Italian hostess, she loves to host visitors at her blog StephanieBaffone.com. (Amelie—can you hyperlink this?) To contact her, email her at Stephanie@StephanieBaffone.com.

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