As I was contemplating what to write about from this turbulent, difficult, joyful day, I heard the words mess, falling apart, can’t handle, and exhausted. It hit me that if I wrote those, and all felt true, I would be lying. And if I didn’t write them I would be lying. It took me a second to figure out what I meant (and yes, I know this makes me sound crazy).

I feel as though I’m occupying two wildly different spaces right now. On one level there is this life where Ada is an emotional wreck, I’m an emotional wreck, our house is in chaos, Steve is on the road half the time and I can barely handle simple tasks like doing the dishes or getting my daughter in the car.

Underneath all of that, at a deeper, wider level, is a sense of internal space, of deep peace and a knowing that everything is as it should be. It’s an odd and wonderful feeling. Despite Ada’s tummy aches, bewildering tears and the six splinters I’ve been trying to remove from her right hand, I have so much less fear than I did even two weeks ago that I feel like a different person. When I found myself flat on my emotional back the other night, gasping for air, the experience of it was searingly new. I felt every emotion more deeply than ever before yet by the time I went to bed, I was filled with an incredible peace, that feeling of internal space and a deep trust that I will be fine.

I wish I could point a finger and say, This is what’s making the difference, but that’s simply my brain trying to tell a story. The truth is, it doesn’t matter if it’s the magician, or the Reiki, or working with amazing coaches, the last books I read, meditation, yoga, my new gluten-free diet, or the convergence of all of them at this exact point in time. What matters is the feeling, the peace, the space.

The challenge is to find it when my fatigue hits, my frustration mounts and my sense of humor evaporates. The goal is to live in it more often than not.

In a moment of desperation, these words helped. I share them, hoping they might speak to you too.

My little shining light daughter is a ball of emotions. She doesn’t want to play with her friends, she doesn’t want me out of her sight, she cries even more than usual. Walking with a close friend today, a friend who witnessed every step of my pregnancy, she announced, our baby died, as though it was news. After helping us sort through her too-small clothes yesterday she cried that she didn’t want to let them go. And while she is excited about the move, it’s another upheaval in her life. She’s been complaining of random stomach pain – always in the same place but never lasting more than a minute or two. We went to see the magician today and he found a knot of emotions right where she said it hurt. As a child I did battle with nausea and headaches and I remember my aha! moment when I learned those can be signs of emotional struggles or depression in children.

There are moments when I wonder at the reaches of the fallout from Ben’s death. I wonder how we will emerge on the other side of this first year. I wonder how deep the scars will be.

My sweet girl, I am so sorry your brother died and you are in the midst of all this grief. Remember how loved you are. Always. You are safe. You are loved. You are whole. Let the tears flow and keep shining your light.

The idea of mastery has been tugging at me lately. I’ve often thought over the years that I was a Jill of all trades and a mistress of none. For love and/or money I have been a dancer, an actress, a student, a food waitress, a cocktail waitress, a restaurant bookkeeper, a salesperson, an auto show narrator, a bartender, a Pilates instructor, a student again, a Marriage and Family Therapy intern, a Community Psychologist, a parenting coach, a friend, a wife, a mama. I’m sure I’m forgetting something. I have the letters BFA and MA after my name. I know that underneath everything I’ve done is a clear direction. I am best in and with relationships and I’m passionate about personal growth. Still I feel I have done nothing to a depth that makes me an expert. Hand in hand with these feelings are the desires to find my voice, to shine the light that is in me out into the world, and to know at the end of my days that I have left the world a kinder, more loving, more inspired place than I found it.

In yoga class yesterday the teacher spoke of having a 1000 day practice. We’ve all heard that repeating something for 21 consecutive days makes it a habit. 60 days, 90 days, 120 days – they turn habit into glue into cement. 1000 days makes you a master. I love the idea of it, of committing to doing something specific daily for 1000 days. That’s 2.74 years. When I think about what, my heart jumps to writing and meditation. Without skipping a beat, the voices start – those take so much time, you will beat  yourself up if  you miss a day, you can’t possibly do that, 1000 days won’t make you an expert in those two areas – people spend lifetimes on that. Ouch. I begin to think smaller – a chant, a mantra, a prayer, a haiku, a  yoga series, a yoga pose, hooping, dancing for 10 minutes in my living room. All excellent ideas. Smaller, but still worthy.

I find myself paralyzed and I realize that I believe what I choose has to be tied to how I make money. Interesting. I don’t make any money now – except the occasional SAG and AFTRA residuals – so why would that be? I unravel the thought. Ah – there it is. My self-esteem is tied to earning money and being a committed mama doesn’t pay the bills. Ouch again. That puts a lot of pressure on any choice I make that it be the right choice. That I hurry up and get perfect. The problem is I’m messy – life is messy –  and chasing after perfect is part of what’s kept me from mastery in the first place.

I’m going to take a little risk here. In the midst of grief and moving and having the rug pulled out from under my heart this week for reasons that shall remain unspoken (for now) I am going to stop typing, breathe deeply, ask my wise inner voice what my 1000 day practice will be and record whatever comes up here, on this page, so I can’t chicken out.

Breathing…

Asking…

Answered…

Meditation.

My 1000 days start tomorrow and end August 4, 2013.

Just for the record, I asked three times. The darned answer never changed.

On a side note, another thing that’s been tugging at me is seeing office space for lease. Weird.

I’ve always believed that happiness is more than a feeling – it’s a feeling about all  your feelings. It’s a subtle, pleasant sensation that comes from being open to your emotions, open to the present moment, open to life. – Gay Hendricks

I had some much needed time to myself today. After a Kundalini yoga class and lunch at my new favorite restaurant, I meandered home via downtown, then the beach, stopping to read Gay Hendricks‘ Five Wishes in the sand dunes at the end of our soon-to-be new lane. It is a quick easy read. Sitting in the sun, listening to the waves, watching sailboats glide past and families enjoy the gorgeous weather, I moved through his process and made my five wishes.

I look forward to refining them and as they are in line with my deepest desires, living by them. I recommend the book in all its deceptive simplicity. Take what works for you, pass it on to a friend. You just never know when something will change a life forever. Like a dead baby. Or the perfect conversation. Or the right questions.

Every step of the journey, is the journey. – Zen saying

Namaste. Sat Nam. Amen.