Monthly Archives: August 2019

Break free of your limiting beliefs – Step 2 towards your best life

To recap from my last post: I got deep clarity about my need for nature during my two days away at the Sea of Galilee; then I came home and wanted to share my newly awakened awareness with my husband.

I prefaced my comments by telling him that I wasn’t suggesting in any way that we take action of any sort, but I just wanted to be heard regarding something important to me.

He listened to me attentively as I then shared all that I shared with you in my last post, but in more detail. When I finished, he looked at me and said, “I really hear what you’re saying and that’s a real concern. So what do we do now?”

That was completely not what I was expecting.

Let me explain. Over the last few months, I’ve been uncharacteristically restless and have conceived various ideas with the hope that we find somewhere else in RBS where we could have either: more garden space/more indoor space/quieter neighborhood/somewhere with a view.

Every time I shared one of these ideas with my husband, he would shake his head and say, “We’re not going to move just to have a view of some trees.” Or, “I think we have enough space and we don’t need any more.”

I assumed that hearing yet more about my restlessness wasn’t going to be something he’d be very receptive to, despite his willingness to listen to each of my schemes. And so I was very taken aback by his response.

I rushed to once again reassure him that we didn’t need to do anything. But he was already thinking aloud about what possibilities there were.

My response? Complete stonewalling. Because as far as I was concerned, there were no possibilities that existed for us.

“We can’t move. We can’t leave here. Our kids are happy, it’s convenient for our married kids to visit, we can’t start over again.”

We can’t, we can’t, we can’t.

This is a place that I got mentally stuck for quite some time. I wanted something more but simply couldn’t see how it was possible. It felt selfish of me to move our family for my preferences and I couldn’t get past that.

It wasn’t until I began to consider the potential benefits to our children that I was able to slowly change gears. I started to think, ‘If living somewhere more expansive was good for me, maybe for similar reasons it would also be good for my children.” Hmm.

Hmm.

I slowly released the story I was telling myself about how unhappy everyone would be if we moved and started considering something different:

  • my married kids (they would visit less often but perhaps they would stay longer if we had a more comfortable space to host them);
  • my middle kids, ages 20, 18 and 17 (they all have one foot out the door into the adult world so it would affect them less);
  • my next three boys (they would love the increased outdoor time),
  • and for my youngest two, I really didn’t have any significant concerns (other than legal ramifications of moving with Rafael to a different district regarding foster care).

Changing my ideas about what I can have, what I am worthy of, believing it’s possible…this was hard.

What was incredibly striking to me after I was able to move into possibility thinking was how much the limitations in my  life were created…by me. It was my belief that I couldn’t have more that shut the door on thinking about how to create something better.

Avivah

Get clear on what is most important to you – first step towards your best life

This week marks eight years from the time we arrived in Israel!

Living here is something I continue to be very grateful for.  Though it has become my normal I don’t take it for granted.

When we were considering making aliyah, my husband and I went through a lot of soul searching, clarifying our highest values and getting ready to act on that decision. We spent a month intensely hashing it out, and five months after making the decision, were on the plane with eight children ages 2 – 18 (one child preceded us).

It was a very intense period. There was so much internal work and external actions that needed to happen for it all to unfold as it did.

At that time I didn’t share much of our initial discussion about the idea of moving to Israel, because I didn’t know if we would actually decide to make the move. Then once we made that decision, I didn’t share much because I didn’t know how it was all going to work out. We experienced soooo much personal growth at that time; I later regretted not sharing any of it here because it was a powerful experience for us as individuals and as a couple.

Right now I’m going through another deep exploration of goals and ideals, and this time I’ve decided to include you in my process while I’m walking through it. Even though I prefer to share afterward when it’s all clean and neat and wrapped with a bow. 🙂

Although I don’t yet know how it will work out – and that makes me feel vulnerable when talking publicly about it – I hope you’ll find value in this.

******************

About seven weeks ago, I attended a beach festival for women on the shores of the Sea of Galilee.

As I sat there by the water, gazing out at the beautiful view, my entire being simultaneously expanded – and contracted.

I was filled with a deep peace and gratitude to be there; I literally felt as if I was filling up my parched soul with the beauty and stillness of nature.

But I was also filled with a deep pain of longing and sadness, craving more of this experience of nature in my day to day life yet knowing that I couldn’t have it. Yes, I go on regular nature hikes with other women, I take my children on outings to national parks, I love gardening and have plants all over my yard and my porch.

And as I sat there, it became so clear to me that…it’s not enough.

It’s not enough.

It’s not enough.

Over those two days away, I had a lot of time to think. I spent much of the time reflecting, gazing at the sea, the sky and the mountains in the distance. I had several great conversations with like-minded women, listening to how others navigated this wantingness and not- havingness.

Over these two days, something became crystal clear to me. Something that I’ve pushed down and pushed away and denied and minimized for years.

I don’t just love being in nature. I NEED to be in nature. And there is a voice crying out inside that I don’t have that in my life to the degree that is optimal for me.

Never have I even considered making this preference for a more pastoral setting to be a primary criteria for any decisions about where to live. In fact, I’ve always made choices to be in larger urban centers, based on the belief this will provide my children with the most opportunities, socially and academically.

This small voice was like an inner child, trying for years to be heard but continually ignored or thrown a small bone – an outing, a new plant, an early morning walk in the park. And finally, with everything in my life thank G-d going smoothly, this little voice seemed to be saying, ‘There are no other big issues to be focused on or distracted by. So NOW can you listen to me?!?’

When I moved to my home four years ago, I was blessed to be living on the outskirts of the neighborhood, with a large open valley opposite my home. I commented a number of times to my family that G-d found us the perfect home because even in a larger bustling community like this, I had the beautiful calming sense of nature being close by.

I loved just standing on my porch, hanging laundry and seeing that view. I didn’t need to physically explore the valley – seeing it was enough.

I was told there were no plans to develop the area opposite our home. However, it wasn’t long after we moved in before down to the right and over to the left, the valley began to be cleared for different building projects.

Then the large earth moving tractors and dump trucks began to make their daily appearances, all day long – right across from me. Then nonstop hammer drilling began, continuing for many hours a day, for months. Noise that left me feeling jangled and out of sync.

And then across from me higher up just a little in the distance, yet another building project began. I felt like everything was closing in on me – from the top and bottom, from right and left, yet I told myself repeatedly, ‘How wonderful, more Jews living in the Holy Land!’ I meant, it, too, and continued to be grateful for the home that I have.

But.

Four years later, the somewhat quiet bypass road on the edge of the community that I live on has been expanded to a four lane boulevard that has constant foot traffic and vehicle traffic. Lots of people wouldn’t mind this, but I am me and I do mind it.

It’s in so many ways a fabulous location, central to buses, synagogues, and a beautiful huge park that people visit from all over (even outside the city) is less than a five minute walk away. I have great neighbors, and our apartment itself has many features that are hard to find all in one package. Not to mention all the work we did to expand the space that makes it a great home for us.

But as I gaze at the landscape that has been so dramatically transformed I often wonder, ‘What am I doing here???’ This busy, energetic bustling pace is great for many but just not in sync with the person I am.

So where does that leave me? This is the question that kept pounding at me for those two days and I felt anguished that I couldn’t think of a solution – I couldn’t pretend anymore that it was fine for me and I couldn’t think of how to change the situation. Such a difficult experience for a person like me, who really believes you can have the life you want if you’re willing to be honest with yourself and take appropriate actions.

Finally, I came to some inner peace as I realized that I don’t have to have an answer. All I have to do is sit with my increased clarity and let myself accept that yes, nature really is very, very important to me. For me, it’s much more than just a nice view to look at.

I gave myself permission to sit with this awareness, and to accept that it doesn’t have to lead to any actions at this time.

Just honoring my own wants and desires and recognizing how deeply important they are to me is a huge step, an act of respect and honoring of myself, and I felt a sense of inner quiet returning by the time I returned home.

I tend to be a person who is quick to act, so it’s also very healthy for me to not take action, not need to do something, and just feel the feelings.

I considered sharing about this inner conflict earlier (I actually wrote this post a month ago), but thought that the lack of being able to resolve this neatly and quickly would be unappealing to my readers. But you know what? This is the reality of life.

Clarity isn’t easy.

It takes courage to feel your feelings, it takes courage to know that you want more than what you have, and it’s uncomfortable to sit with that feeling and do nothing.

Some of my most significant life decisions were preceded the discomfort of not feeling in sync between what I wanted and what I had.

Next up…the discussion with my husband about this newfound awareness when I got back home.

Avivah

Live your life with intention – dare to follow your own path

Years ago, I took my children to Northwest Trek wildlife park in Washington state. We loved it so much we went back the very next day.

The second day was drizzly and cold, and as the rain started to fall, the number of visitors grew sparser and sparser. Our kids had coats with hoods and the rain wasn’t too heavy, so we decided to stay in line for the tram that would take us through the areas where the animals were living in the wild.

This ride turned into a rare treat! Thanks to the rain, we saw an abundance of animals that were usually sleeping or resting out of sight. The docent accompanying the few of us on the tram told us it was very unusual to see the number of animals that we saw, and to see them being so active. It was a special opportunity, and we only had it because we were willing to do something different than most of the people around us that day.

We humans have a tendency to scan to see what others are doing, and then we act accordingly. We want to do what others are doing. It gives us security and provides a feeling of comfort.

But so many of the best opportunities aren’t found when you line up in the same place, at the same time, in the same way as everyone else.

A friend of my husband’s who is a business consultant advises entrepeneurs to zag where others are zigging, to look for the opportunities to do something different than what others in the field are doing, because that’s where the opportunities are.

It’s true in every area, definitely on the home front. If you want to live a life like everyone else, do what everyone else does. If you want to live a life of higher satisfaction and alignment with what you care about most, be willing to zag when everyone else is zigging.

In the summer of 2000, we made the choice to homeschool our children. I jumped off the well-trodden path that everyone around me was following, and it was downright terrifying. I was so worried about doing something so different from everyone else. What would people think of me, what would they say about me?

And most of all, how could I be seeing an opportunity that others didn’t see? If they weren’t acting on it, it must be because there were major potholes in my path. After all, if there was something good to be gained, wouldn’t everyone want it?

That fear lasted until I made the jump into the pond of my own making. Once I was out of the rushing mainstream currents, I was able to see how refreshing the water in my pond was. How calm and relaxing it was, how easily connections happened within our family.

As the years passed, I continued to notice how many people were living lives that were very limiting for them (their assessment, not mine), and how poorly served they were by continuing to do the same thing as everyone around them. I came to the deep conviction that in any venture or endeavor, following the crowd is usually not where deep fulfillment lies.

Recently a young family shared their plan to move out of the city they live in despite their comfortable lives. When I asked them why, they said they want a different pace of life, a different kind of life for themselves and their children. They’ve sold all their belongings and are getting ready to explore the possibilities, taking action to move toward what they value most.

Another woman told me they’re moving from Ramat Beit Shemesh (where I live) to a much more affordable area in the south, because currently they are ‘house poor’ and want to restructure financially in a more healthy way. When I told her it was a courageous thing to leave a place she has lived for so many years and start again, she responded that it just made sense. True, I told her, maybe it makes sense but most people would be afraid to take the dramatic step she is taking.

There’s something about living in integrity with yourself that is very powerful. We have only one life to live, and at the end of my life (which I hope will be very, very long!), I want to look back with satisfaction and gratitude for the choices that I’ve made.

It’s painful to be filled with regrets, to wish you had done something different but didn’t act out of fear – of leaving your comfort zone, of doing something different than those around you or even doing something different than yourself in years past.

Over the years, many people have shared with me how their children have struggled in school, but they’re afraid to homeschool because they don’t want to be different or because they’re scared of the unfamiliar.

Totally understandable – but sadly, the child and parents are still left with the struggle.

When we stuck to our budget, living within our means and refusing to use credit cards to artificially extend our spending power, people told us how smart that was. But they couldn’t do that, they said, because their children would feel deprived or they would look poor compared to their peers.

If spending to impress others and going into debt is zigging, I’m happy to have zagged.

My quality of life has been immeasurably higher when I’ve been willing to do what was right for me, no matter what when everyone else was doing. Those choices weren’t made with the intent to be different from others – in fact, being different has been uncomfortable for me –  but I was willing to experience that discomfort in order to experience my highest good.

Have you zagged in some area of your life, and if so, how did you benefit? Is there some area that you want to experience something different but don’t know how to go about it? If you’d like support with that, feel free to set up a session with me and I’d be glad to support you!

Avivah