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Just As I Am

Just As I Am

One of the little “doses of dynamite” that I’ve jotted down in my journal says: “If I have to be someone I’m not in order to do what I want to do then I need to reexamine either what I want or who I think I am.” I don’t share these musings from my journals as Daily Dose of Dynamite emails until I’m ready to unpack them, and this one wasn’t ready to be unpacked. Until now. On a group coaching call this morning with my Dynamite U members, we talked about an opportunity one of our members had been given. We discussed how she could make it more successful and how she would define success. And she said to me, “I know a lot of people think I should be doing this, or doing that, but I’m just not that person yet.” Suddenly the message in the little note I’d written to my future self made sense. We never need to be someone we aren’t. But sometimes, when we want to do a thing that we aren’t ready to do, we expand our understanding to realize that we CAN meet the requirements that thing sets for us. She doesn’t need to be anyone she isn’t. But this opportunity is inspiring her to stretch her understanding of who she is to include doing things she didn’t think were possible. She’s embracing her strengths and using them to do what needs doing in her own way. Not the way she’s “supposed to” but in the way that is authentic for her. At first I thought this was what I was...
What Are You Celebrating?

What Are You Celebrating?

Those of you who have read this blog for some time already know that I was raised in a home without Christmas. Yes, my parents were Christian. But their sect observed none of the religious holidays. Why? Well as it was explained to me (many times over, this was hard for me to accept) the traditions observed as part of Christian holidays were actually borrowed from pagan rites. And we most emphatically were not to be performing anything that bore even the faintest resemblance to a pagan rite. Besides, they added, a true Christian celebrates the events and the spirit of these holidays every day, not just on days designated by some random person or persons. I have, since then, celebrated many traditions that I’m sure were derived from pagan rites. I’ve celebrated new moons and full moons, lit incense and chanted “om” and lit candles and sat in silent awareness holding spirit space for one I love. I’ve held sacred the passing of seasons, each solstice and equinox marking ticks on the illusionary wheel of time. I’ve celebrated births and birthdays, and even my mourning rituals have been a celebration of life as it passed from material to pure spirit. What I’ve celebrated, really, is meaning. All else, the traditions and symbols, are only anchors for the meaning we attach to them. It’s as real as we allow it to be. I was perhaps 11 years old, and my nieces only four and five years younger, when I broke the news that Santa wasn’t real. Not in the sense THEY thought of as real. Which, to me, raised...