When the Best Response is Silence

Sounds of Silence

It’s often difficult to recognize when a conversation has run its course. Both sides have shared, and reiterated their positions often enough to know where those positions might converge, co-exist peacefully, and when there simply is no way to achieve equilibrium. Re-hashing the key points–from opposing perceptions is not going to bring those perceptions closer together. In fact, at some point, frustration on the part of one person or the other will ultimately lead to things being said, and feelings being hurt. While walking away might still lead to hurt feelings, it beats saying something which can’t be taken back; beats burning a bridge completely to the ground.

Since I’m typically the one to reach her frustration point first, blurting out something irretrievable before re-engaging the brain, I’ve learned I need to be the first one to zip my mouth shut, and walk away quickly before something thoughtless and unkind escapes. As my retreat is necessarily abrupt, those who rarely do more than scratch my surface are left puzzled, confused, and in some cases, hurt because they took my retreat personally. Trust me when I say I’ve done a great deal more harm to myself, and others by sticking around too long.

Through trial and tumultuous error, I’ve learned to install filters between my rough-edged self and the booby-trapped highways and byways of polite society. Walking away when I’ve reached an impasse, or frankly, when I’m unable to converse in the same language with all its life-installed quirks on both sides, is the best filter I have. Whether or not the other person (or people for that matter) use the time I’ve given them to process the whole scenario or not often determines what the future might bring. I know I’ll spend some time processing and re-processing words and actions myself, trying to improve the outcome, if nothing else.

Walking Away for Everyone’s Good

Even knowing I reached the point of needing to walk away because I didn’t see any way of seeing eye to eye, I’ll still process things on the off chance we’re both able to give a little ground at some point in the future. Meanwhile, I’ll take the time to re-validate my own perceptions since often, the crux of the issue is a dismissal of those perceptions. I may be wrong a lot of the time, but when my gut tells me something has changed, having someone try to convince me its my imagination is a sure way to send me packing.

Learning to trust my feelings has been a long, hard, twisty road. Every time I didn’t, and believed someone else when they told me I was misreading the situation, I paid the price. I may allow a relationship which dismisses my feelings and perceptions to go on for a little while…sometimes longer than I should. In the end, I’ll either blow the whole thing up like a Fourth of July fireworks display, or walk away quietly, with little or no fanfare. Extensive experience has taught me the latter will always be my wiser choice…though there are some who will push until they get the fireworks. It’s their funeral.

I’d like to say I walk away with no regrets, but the truth is, if I’ve allowed a situation to push me far enough to enact radio silence, enough of my feelings were involved, and it mattered enough to hurt when I left. Closing off a piece of my heart isn’t something I do lightly. What I’m still trying to understand is why I don’t see the signs long before I’ve invested so much of myself.

Revisiting the Past to Heal

Granted, in many cases, I had to revisit a pattern from my past in order to heal my own wounds, but also to understand and forgive those who had a part in inflicting them from their own place of trauma and pain. Since my mom left a lot of wounds on my psyche, simply by being unable to love me as I was, those seem to be the character traits I revisit most often, and fail to recognize until I’m in too deep again.

Going silent also means I need to consciously redirect my energies towards something more productive, not only regarding my work and my home, but my social life as well. That’s always part of the reason it takes me so long to recognize I’ve been walking down a dead end street for too long. Re-starting my life in other areas is something I manage fairly well. My social life is another story entirely. Too often, I’ve settled because changing directions held far more perils and pitfalls than I was ready to address, even if the ones I could see were sucking me down into a pit of despair anyway.

This time around, I’ve committed to simply writing it all down, and taking it one day at a time…without the old crowd, or those who dismissed my feelings. Wandering along in silence, with my own thoughts for company isn’t such a bad thing. It gives me time to review the latest round of lessons, and promise myself I’ll do better.

Grateful for all the Wrong Turns

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for choosing silence over pointless, painful confrontation.
2. I’m grateful for the lessons I’ll be taking with me from my latest round of life experiences.
3. I’m grateful for a couple of points of light in the dark corridor I’m wandering at the moment.
4. I’m grateful for a plan, even if most of it is rather vague right now.
5. I’m grateful for ultimately trusting my feelings…trusting myself.

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

Criticism and Communication

Communicate Criticism Gently

Some folks are good at taking criticism, while others aren’t. Some people give criticism such that the recipient is uplifted and motivated. Others do nothing more than break the spirit. If you do or don’t see yourself in this, be aware someone out there disagrees, while others sing your praises…and everything in between.

I’ve also learned there are times criticism comes across as harsher when there’s an underlying issue or gripe one of the parties isn’t aware of. When it does come to light, the opposing party may have an “aha moment”, but by then, the damage to the relationship may have already been set in stone. One thing which doesn’t help is asking others in a community how they perceive it as it may, at the very least, cause embarrassment when the truth comes to light…unless of course, that’s your plan.

Deep seated feelings of hurt often distort our judgement, causing us to say or do things our more rational, kinder nature would have ordinarily dismissed. As with so many things, it comes down to communication. When we’re feeling hurt, dismissed, or invalidated, and stuff it down with the rest of the fulminating mess of emotions we all carry around, there’s a need for relief which, all to often translates into a need to lash out at the one we believe made us feel that way. No matter how hard we try to follow our better nature, things will slip through the cracks at times. That’s when the criticism gets more cutting, both from an administrative, and receptive position.

Cutting Each Other Some Slack

People who know me well know I’m often clumsy in my communication, and even more so when I’m not left to process hurt and other uncomfortable feelings in my own time and way. Although I ask that any hurtful actions I might perform be pointed out to me as soon as possible, it rarely happens that way. Other people have their own reasons for holding back, usually until things come to a head, and end up blowing whatever relationship existed to hell and back, often permanently. In such cases, both of us are to blame…and neither of us, for misinterpreting the other’s level of trauma.

Then again, sometimes you want to tank a relationship rather than risk confrontation. I know I did a lot of unkind things to my ex when the relationship had long since run it’s course. Both of us knew it, but neither wanted to be the one to actually end it. Eventually, I had to, for the sake of my sanity, and that of my kids, but not before I did and said a lot of things I’m not proud of.

As I’ve learned over the years, it’s an effective way to end a relationship that’s run its course, be it personal, social, or professional, but it’s also a messy one. Bridges are burnt, and a lot more toxic feelings are left to be dealt with…someday. Neither side will ever see the other in the same unbiased, accepting light they once did ever again. That, to me, is very sad, especially when I look back and see how many of mine went down in those hypercritical flames.

Learning from Past Mistakes?

The latest of those leaves me realizing I owe it to myself to do better, as it’s always me who’s left alone to start over. Maybe I got sucked into the situation in my perpetual naivete. Maybe I didn’t see the setup coming, or failed to perceive the other person’s hurt over something I said or did until it was too late, and they’d shot me down with it enough times to make me leave. My lack of relationship-building skills makes me an easy target for people who deal with hurt that way.

I’m lucky there are at least a couple of people in my life who won’t hesitate to tell me when I’ve acted unkindly, and are, perhaps, thick-skinned enough to either not let my insensitivity hurt them, or understand I truly do not mean to offend; who understand there are times I respond instinctively, like a cornered animal rather than a rational human, and who know when it’s best to leave me alone. But those few have traveled with me for longer than most (and deserve more than just the debts of gratitude I owe them), and know there are times I need to retreat and process before I can talk about what’s bothering me, and then, only with someone I completely trust. Anyone in that category is one of a precious, much-appreciated few.

I’ve certainly learned a lot about giving and receiving criticism over the last year alone. My only regret is how much of it came with a lot of pain and loss.

Grateful Unkind Words Wound but Rarely Kill

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for the lessons I’ve learned, and continue to learn; even the painful ones.
2. I’m grateful for a safe place where I can uncover old wounds, sit with them for a time, even hold each other and have a good cry before finally letting them go.
3. I’m grateful even for the losses. While I wish they didn’t have to happen, sometimes people, places, and things simply run their course in our lives.
4. I’m grateful for options. When one door closes, there are several waiting to be chosen.
5. I’m grateful for quiet, productive days when both the complicated and the mundane get checked off my list.

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

Kitty Stories to Lighten the Mood

Happier Mood Swings

Things have been getting pretty deep in here lately, so I thought it was time to mix things up and lighten the mood with stories, not only of my own clowder of kitties, but the rescues I’ve been helping socialize at Eastwood Ranch Foundation; a new rescue in Agoura.

When the world in general, as well as closer to home gets too heavy for my heart, I retreat to a world where I focus on, and communicate with cats, be they my own, or those awaiting adoption. Looking at the world through their eyes, sharing cuddles, or trying to understand what they want or need tends to bring me more satisfaction than trying to navigate humans.

Lately, my own cats seem to sense the heaviness of my heart. I’m never without at least a couple close at hand, with the rest hovering nearby in case a sudden desperate need for comforting arises. Even when I’m working at the rescue, a couple of staff members have commented on how all of the cats and kittens seem to love me. My heart is warmed, both by the way the cats respond to my attention, and how the resident humans are aware of it.

Body Autonomy: Not Only for Humans

In part, I think it comes down to respecting each feline’s wants and needs. It may sound weird, but I believe in body autonomy, not only for humans, but for animals. It seems to work well with cats, as they want to be the ones who determine whether or not they can be touched or picked up, and by whom. Seems fair to me! Let’s not leave dogs out of this conversation as they, too like to pick and choose to some degree.

There’s a dog on my walking route named Zoey. She’s cute poodle mix who prefers men to women. When she happens to be outside when we go by, I stand back and let her get cuddles from my walking buddy, who she clearly adores. Every so often, she’ll come over and let me get a skritch or two in, but more often, she’s happy with her man cuddles. Her owner is always apologetic, but it doesn’t bother me at all. She knows what she wants, and it’s not like she rejects me, or ignores me. Sometimes, she’ll gaze at me with her ice blue eyes while Jesse is scratching her back. Clearly, we have an understanding.

It’s so simple for animals. Either they like you or they don’t; want you to give them attention, or prefer to watch you, sometimes warily, from a safe distance. By recognizing and accepting that, we contribute positively to the dynamic, and many times, earn the trust of the shyer ones in time.

Taming the Miscommunication Demon

One of the things that complicates the issue between humans is communication, both verbal and non-verbal. Our personal experiences determine how we read things like body language, word choice, and tone of voice…often incorrectly. Maybe we take offense at something the speaker didn’t mean to be offensive, or we offend when that wasn’t our intention. One of the most difficult things to do is choose not to be offended and instead, say something like: “what you said/how you said that offended me because…” Assuming the other person is receptive, it can begin a dialogue in which both parties get to know the other a little better.

Of course, that means you have to respond rather than react, and there are few amongst us who don’t need to work on that one! Meanwhile, if you offend a cat or dog, they WILL let you know about it! Either they’ll smack, bite, or scratch, or give you the cold shoulder. Either way, you know exactly where you stand. Now, I don’t recommend, as humans, we let people know we’re bothered by something in that fashion, improved communication can minimize those moments when we’d like to bite, scratch, or, as I say when my cats show me their hind quarters, give someone the butt.

Trust me when I say I’m as guilty, if not guiltier than the next guy of failing to communicate. My go-to when I’m unhappy with someone, or with what they said or did is to isolate for awhile which can actually make things worse, since I tend to stew while I’m in my hermit hut, turning the teeniest little molehill into Mount Everest. Add in the depression I often work myself into, and it’s not a very tasty stew at all!

ADD Brain Run Amok…Again

This post didn’t go the way I expected it to at all. My original thought was to share some of the antics of my furry family, and that didn’t really happen. But as my ADD brain is the one writing the posts, and not my conscious, somewhat controllable mind, I’m not entirely surprised. I think it wanted me to reach the conclusion I need to treat people more like I treat animals; approaching slowly, and learning how to communicate with them in the language they understand; allowing them to get to know me and my nuances, as I get to know them and theirs.

In a lot of ways, humans are like skittish cats, but with walls and masks to protect their sensitive psyches.  It’s the psyches we all need to learn to approach with caution, and to treat gently and respectfully as most have been traumatized at some point in their existence.

Always Something to be Grateful For

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for all the time I get to spend with cats. It heals my soul, and my own, damaged psyche.
2. I’m grateful for friendships which span decades, and have lost the need to step lightly over sensitive topics because they understand and relate to past traumas.
3. I’m grateful for blog posts which almost seem to be writing themselves lately.
4. I’m grateful for more time to write as I slowly disappear from social media. I see now, it was a stopping point, but never meant to be a permanent residence.
5. I’m grateful for a schedule that’s filling up, despite letting a few things fall by the wayside, having outlived their usefulness.

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

Music Opens Your Eyes If You Let It

Memories in the Music

Lately I’ve stopped using the TV for background noise, and gone back to my old, faithful standby; music. Over time, I learned what inspired rather than distracted, and have set up Pandora stations accordingly. My go-to for writing is usually Simon and Garfunkel, and occasionally, Chuck Mangione when I’m more inclined to sing along with the old songs than write, thus requiring tunes with no words.

Recently, I started thinking about how many of those songs I can still sing in their entirety from memory, and frankly, the list was staggering. Even more astounding is that the ones I remember best are at least 50 years old! It leads me to believe my memory of song lyrics is directly connected to a time of both innocence and turbulence. Or could the answer be even simpler?

The songs of the 50s, 60s, and early 70s were penned by poets for the most part. They were filled with passion and angst; the early beginnings of a world being split wide open to new ideas, paradigms, and eventually, a new world order.

Stories Waiting Decades to be Understood

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When I listen to songs like “Sounds of Silence”, or “Blowin’ in the Wind’, I ask myself; How did they know where the world was going, and how lost and disconnected we’d become? How do words penned and put to music decades ago give me chills now, knowing what they predicted has come to pass; has become the twisted reality from which springs hate, and a desperate struggle to cling to old ways that weren’t great in the first place?

Singing the songs I thought so innocent 50 years ago, I’m left wondering if they planted seeds in my brain back then. Did they prime the pump, so to speak so I’d begin to see the inequities, the putrid mess bubbling beneath a surface of civility, ready to explode with the right provocation. Or did it inure me to the suffering of huge swaths of people whose voices were stifled or silenced by those who chose to believe the power hungry rather than do the research, and think for themselves?

Even now, as we see many of those voices refusing to remain silent, the balance of power is shifting, and it’s not going quietly. Opposing viewpoints fight to build support from people like me who are empathetic, yet oblivious. Their suffering has long been stuffed into a locked closet where history is rewritten to obliterate not only the abuse they’re subjected to, but the contributions they’ve made.

Giving the World Back to the Masses

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In my opinion, too many groups of people have been marginalized, if not erased for the convenience of an elite few. Blacks, women, LGBTQ, Asians, Moslems…the list goes on and on.

Anyone who isn’t a White, Christian male is subject to obliteration because their wants and needs; the things they consider important conflict with those which hold an old, outdated version of superiority and sovereignty up to the harsh light of day, and find it lacking in the most fundamental, and conspicuous of ways.

Basic human dignity, equal treatment under the law, health, welfare, education…again, the list goes on; are all considered due and payable, as long as you are White, male, and Christian. I’m reminded of a line from Orwell’s “Animal Farm”:

All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.

I suspect it was no accident Mr. Orwell chose pigs to make this proclamation.

Changing the World One Small Act at a Time

There are some who might find my words here hypocritical because I’ve never taken part in any of the marches; never put my life, health, or reputation on the line for someone who’s been treated inequitably, and have lived a fairly privileged life overall. To you, I say, there are many ways to fight the fight, and we all have to do so as fits our own abilities, and lives.

Perhaps speaking out in print is considered cowardly from where you sit, but I ask you to think about the many who have, over the years, used their words; their voices, rather than their bodies to make a point, and more importantly, to make people think, and see it’s time to remove the rose-colored glasses, and see the filth lurking beneath the smiling faces, and whitewashed history.

Looking back, I realize that’s exactly what the musicians and poets of the 50s, 60s, and 70s were doing in their own, more subtle fashion. they spoke of things we were prevented from seeing; the lies we were told, and fingers pointed in the wrong directions.

Removing the Blinders

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I think they knew we wouldn’t understand more than a small, nearly insignificant part of the smoldering mess that’s our true history; the history of humanity overall, but that eventually, a time would come when at least some of us we were ready to listen; to believe.

When we did, the music would still be there. The words would make more sense. Our place in altering a non-inclusive trajectory would become more clear.

The time has come. I’m chilled to the bone by the lyrics I remember so well they seem embedded in the cells embodying my physical brain. The future they predicted when the lies were exposed; when desperation led to horrific acts, and to disconnection created to keep the less equal animals silent and pacified started balancing the power, and opening the eyes, if not of the many, at least of some who were willing to take action, each in their own way, space, and time.

Reclaim Communication

Communication is often reduced to text, email, DM; methods which remove our humanity, subtler means of communication like body language and voice tone, and something we desperately need in these crazy times; connection. In the words of Simon and Garfunkel:

People talking without speaking

People hearing without listening

People writing songs that voices never shared

And no one dared

Disturb the sounds of silence

One thing is for certain, you can’t fight the old guard on their own turf, with their own weapons. You can refuse to allow the disconnection to continue, and to communicate in ways that fly under their radar; ways they don’t even consider because they go against the plan they, alone created, and control.

It’s time to make meeting in person normal again. To turn communication back into a two-way street where you listen as much, or more than you talk. Open your heart, your mind, and your ears without judgement, analysis, or frozen beliefs.

Together, We Can Stop the Madness

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Allow yourself to be appalled, and outraged. Then figure out what you can do to help, and do it. Or prepare to be further controlled, and for what means of communication you currently retain to be further sanitized or curtailed.

Desperate men will do horrific, unconscionable things to maintain the status quo which only benefits a select few, and a few who don’t deserve special treatment in the first place. If you ask me, believing they are above the law, and have the right to abuse people unlike themselves is the first step in their ultimate downfall, but only when we’re tired of the ugliness, the hate, and the disconnection they perpetuate.

Grateful for My Own Place in History

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful I listened carefully to the songs I grew up on.
2. I’m grateful for everyone who speaks out, acts out, or otherwise refuses to accept or believe in inequality and inequity.
3. I’m grateful for my own passion, and the words to express how tired I am of the rewriting of history, and stifling of voices.
4. I’m grateful for another day to live, love, write, hug, dance, and breathe air that can, and will be available in fair measure to all.
5. I’m grateful for abundance; love, equity, friendship, outspokenness unsanitized history, compassion, kindness, support, hope, harmony, peace, coexistence, health, philanthropy, and prosperity.

Namaste

 

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook as Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author

Illogical Beliefs Live in Unhealed Wounds

Beliefs Divide Us

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The last few years have brought to the forefront how easily beliefs can be used to control the masses, turning neighbor against neighbor, friends into enemies, and even brother against brother. Sadly, once the seed of dissent is planted, every one of us is ready and willing to nurture it into a rampant, virulent kudzu vine.

Though overt examples of belief overpowering logic and compassion seem to have dwindled, it would be a mistake to believe they’ve disappeared. Instead, they’ve gone back to bubbling beneath our politer surfaces, where a single spark will bring them roaring to the forefront with volcanic force.

It might be a seemingly innocent comment. The speaker instinctively knows, but won’t readily admit to knowing the words are inflammatory to someone with opposing beliefs. In light of events of the last few years, there’s no legitimate reason they don’t know who and why their words will trigger a passionate, and equally belief-driven response.

The part I find interesting is both points of view believe their words and thoughts are fueled by logic. Nothing could be further from the truth. Sure, some of us can quote scientific studies to support one belief or another, but those who believe differently will find some source they deem reputable to refute our claims, as we would with theirs.

Learn to Listen Without Judgement

If we’re ever going to find a middle ground and actually communicate again, there has to be a laying down of arms, or in this case, we need to take a hard, objective look at what we believe, why we believe it, and where it came from in the first place. Too many of those beliefs are likely rooted in the innocent, impressionable years of our childhood, and are inexplicably tied to emotions we never experienced ourselves.

I know I have knee-jerk reactions to many things, and often shut down when I see or hear something that opposes the beliefs I’ve both developed through my own experiences, and inherited from my parents. Too many times, I’ve allowed those beliefs to close my mind to another viewpoint, especially when merely seeing or hearing those opposing viewpoints raises my ire or passion.

Even when passion is lit by a belief I created from my own experiences, it doesn’t mean the belief takes new developments, or even my own healing into consideration. Too often, past experiences left me scarred, or worse, with unhealed wounds which take little to re-open painfully. Part of becoming more compassionate, and open to listening respectfully to other viewpoints lies in revisiting those old wounds, removing the associated coping mechanisms, and allowing them to heal properly. Though it sounds simple conceptually, you can’t understand the magnitude and pain the process involves until you’ve walked the path yourself as I have.

Healing Personal and Ancestral Wounds

Photo – Spiral Tarot

It would be amazing if everyone learned early on to heal their own wounds, and start the process before coping mechanisms were cemented into their psyche. But we’re brought into this world by beings as imperfect as ourselves, and learn to deal with trauma and pain from the examples they set.

In my case, trauma, pain, disappointment, and all of the other challenges life throws us were shoved into Pandora’s boxes, closed up behind ultimately flimsy brick walls, or hidden behind fragile masks. What my parents didn’t teach me, and perhaps hadn’t learned themselves at the time is those methods aren’t sustainable, and in fact, cause enormous problems as the stockpile grows. There comes a point where no amount of reinforcement is sufficient to prevent the dam from bursting, and all hell to break loose.

Unfortunately for my daughters, I, too learned this lesson too late in life to pass on healthier patterns, but can only hope they learned it soon enough to break the pattern with my grandchildren. I believe, however, it’s never to late to right old wrongs, especially when they were based on old, outdated information.

Changing Old, Outdated Patterns

My family carries a heavy load of ancestral wounds from centuries of

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antisemitism and tyranny. The coping mechanisms passed down from one generation to the next may make no sense since my grandparents emigrated from Europe.

Nevertheless, they remain in the fabric of our beings until my generation and the next make a conscious effort to let them go and recognize they’re a hindrance to our own growth.

Because most, if not all of us carry ancestral wounds, it has affected the way we

respond to conflict, challenges, and outright trauma, further impacting beliefs so deeply ingrained as to be part of our souls. I believe by making a conscious effort to understand where our most deeply ingrained beliefs arose, and how many no longer even apply to the lives we live, we can change our beliefs for the better. We can become more open and understanding to those who are still stifled by a blanket of old, outdated beliefs they hold onto for dear life, thinking they’re imperative to their survival.

Change Your Outlook from Surviving to Thriving

Maybe that’s the key element. Too many people look at their goal in life as survival. Once you revisit that single, often oppressive belief; once your recognize it for the roadblock it is, you can start to dig your way out from under something that, if nothing else, is patently untrue.

Only then can you recognize opportunities to thrive instead of merely surviving. Only then can you start looking critically at your beliefs and jettison the ones which hold you back instead of opening up your world to possibilities, and most of all to compassion and understanding.

It isn’t an easy road. Many people and things will get in your way, making the old beliefs and ways seem like a safer road, and one where you’ll be better supported and accepted. The truth is, it’s anything but. By following the road of old beliefs, you stifle the part of yourself that wants to leave the cocoon, spread those beautiful wings you’ve kept folded for too long, and fly.

It might be a scary world outside the cocoon, but it’s also one filled with opportunities, new lessons, and unimaginable beauty. Remember, a rose is beautiful, but you have to get past the thorns, and in the process, you might have to go through some pain to get there.

Using Gratitude to Fuel Compassion

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for the pain I’ve experienced as I shed old beliefs, and look forward to shedding as many as I can in the time I have left.
2. I’m grateful I’m able to pass on a slightly better legacy to my children and grandchildren.
3. I’m grateful for finally realizing I could shed my cocoon and truly live, even when doing so is pretty damned scary.
4. I’m grateful for the support I found when I stopped walling myself up behind old beliefs, lies, and coping mechanisms.
5. I’m grateful for abundance; inspiration, motivation, determination, friendship, love, joy, opportunities, dancing, movement, peace, health, balance, harmony, philanthropy, and prosperity.

Namaste

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook as Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author

Cat Communication 101

What Does it Mean When a Cat Meows?

I’ve seen it written that the only reason cats meow is to communicate with humans. I don’t know where they got their information (certainly not from the cat’s mouth), but I beg to differ. Watching and listening to my own brood, I hear them use their voices with each other on a daily basis, and those meows come in many flavors.

My little instigator and agitator, Mulan uses a very distinct and sultry meow to taunt Dylan into jumping her bones, though both were fixed long ago. Despite Dylan’s advanced age (he’s nearly 16), when he hears that meow, I guarantee he knows what it means, and gives Mulan exactly what she wants. When they first started this he said, she said behavior, I would yell at Dylan for chewing on Mulan. Once I realized she was usually the instigator, I switched my attention to she who starts it.

That’s not to say they don’t have special meows for communicating with their resident human and servant. My barn cats have an entire vocabulary just for me. It includes meows that say “I’m hungry”, “come outside and give me attention”, and the one that motivates me to respond immediately, “I’ve been out hunting and have brought you the fruits of my labor which I will proceed to dismember if you don’t come out right now and show me the appropriate amount of appreciation for my efforts”.

Controlling the Human Servant

The inside, more pampered ones have an extensive vocabulary as well. It might be “Pet me now. I don’t care if you’re in the middle of cooking and your hands are all gooey. Wash them and see to my needs!”, or “I’ve just used the litter box. Please come check it out, and you might clean it while you’re here.” Dylan’s most-used meow has to be a pitiful and weak “I haven’t had any treats in forever! Surely you can open a bag and offer me some” (while he stares longingly at the shelf where I keep them). It doesn’t matter whether it’s been two days or two minutes since I gave him some. He needs them now, and is weak from lack of treats. He’s also mastered a truly dejected carriage when I deny him.

Invariably, there’s some kind of conversation going on at the opposite end of the house from where I’m at. Sometimes, it gets so vocal, I have to stop what I’m doing to either listen attentively, or if it’s getting too loud, check it out to ensure they’re neither tearing each other limb from limb, nor shredding something besides one of their cat trees or scratching posts.

Healing Properties of Purrs

It isn’t just their meows which convey distinct messages. They purr in a variety of tones to express themselves as well. Those purrs are so distinct, I can tell who it is even in the dark. Scrappy Doo joins me soon after I lay down in bed to purr me to sleep. The purr he uses differs vastly in both tone and volume from the one he uses while sitting in my lap to soothe an ache or a jumpy stomach. Don’t ask me how, but somehow he knows when I need a soothing purr and a small, furry heating pad.

Dylan’s purrs can calm and soothe when he’s curled around my head, taking his half of the pillow out of the middle. When he claims his special place on the arm of the sofa where he’ll ultimately melt into my lap, his purrs range from quietly content to loudly demanding a la “I’m already purring. Don’t you think you should do something to deserve my melodious charms?”

In the morning when I’m at my desk writing, and have helped his aging bones reach the desk by turning so he can make use of my lap as a step stool, he might purr quietly in gratitude, or more loudly to encourage petting. He’s finally learned to lay on the side of my non-writing hand knowing he’ll get more pets. Though it means I write more slowly, he’s a big fan of multi-tasking—especially when it means more attention for His Royal Highness.

A Hiss in Time

Of all the sounds my cats make to communicate their desires and emotions, the one least heard around here is their hiss. That’s not to say it doesn’t come up, but I’d like to believe they’re more often content than annoyed. Mulan hisses at Dylan after she’s annoyed him to the point that he goes after her, pins her to the floor, and chews on her neck. Dylan and Pyewacket hiss when I have the audacity to trim their talons.

Lately, I’ve been working on knots in Dylan’s fur near his hind legs as his advanced age makes it harder to groom himself back there. I’ve earned a few hisses for it, despite my best efforts to be gentle, but I think part of his discomfort was caused by fleas biting his butt. I’m hoping the latest application of flea medicine will make him more amenable to my grooming efforts, despite the fact I use hands, comb, and brush instead of his preferred method of tongue and teeth. (Sorry Dylan. As a human I have limits. One is not grooming with my tongue, and the other is presentation and appreciation of butt to face).

Timing is Everything

Pyewacket is my chatter box. He is a large, fluffy black cat with a high, squeaky, loud voice which he uses most often in the middle of the night, or when I’m in the bathroom. The rest of the time, when I’m ready, willing and able to stop what I’m doing and give him the requisite number of pets, he’s nowhere to be found. I’ve learned he has a number of quiet, cozy spots where he sleeps away the daylight hours. Once in awhile, I’ll hunt him down and wake him in hopes he’ll allow me one night of undisturbed sleep. It hasn’t worked yet.

Above all, I’ve lived with cats long enough (and longer than most people) to know each one is a unique individual. Their personalities, voices, purrs, and habits are every bit as unique as those traits are in humans. As with humans, you recognize the differences when you pay attention, and are far more extensive than fur color and length, or whether or not they like their belly rubbed. I love all the opportunities I’ve had over the years to learn to recognize and love their differences. Now if I could only learn how to communicate more clearly with them, I’d have everything I want and need!

Grateful Every Day for My Furry Companions

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for all the opportunities I’ve been given to share my life with cats.
2. I’m grateful for the love and comfort I enjoy from my furry, demanding roommates.
3. I’m grateful for opportunities to share my writing on new platforms.
4. I’m grateful for the many fosters and adoption agencies that help people find their furever companions, be they feline, or otherwise.
5. I’m grateful for abundance; love, joy, affection, attention, companionship, healing, comfort, responsibility, opportunities, inspiration, motivation, dedication, tenacity, peace, health, balance, harmony, philanthropy, and prosperity.

Love and Light

 

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.

If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author or in her new group, Putting Your Whole Heart Forward

When Cats Rule the Roost

The Cats’ View From My Office

There’s a murder of crows/ravens doing their own unique dance on my front lawn. They land in a cluster on the ground, pecking at the dirt since what little grass there is has been burnt to a crisp by days of heat and no rain. Without warning, they swoop back into the air, dividing their time between my yard and the two across the street. Doves perch on the power lines at a safe distance from their oversized brethren, preferring a lazy glide to the frantic dance.

It makes for a special edition of what I like to call “Cat TV”. I have a large tree in my front yard which conveniently shades my office and the guest room, but also serves as a jungle gym for the birds and squirrels, and as a result, constant entertainment for my house cats. With tails twitching, they chitter and chirp as if they’d catch one of the massive creatures should I risk their delicate constitutions out in the hard, cold (OK, maybe not so cold right now) world outside my window.

Strangely enough, my outside cats show no interest in the aerial show, preferring to find a shady spot to lounge. They do most of their hunting at night, and bring me gifts of creatures who also choose to eschew the sun’s unforgiving rays. Under cover of darkness, or at most, a full moon, rats, mice, and gophers roam the neighborhood hoping to avoid the claws and jaws of hunters like my garage kitties. There seems to be little competition between the owls and other night hunters, and the local cats as there’s an abundance of prey. Though my house and yard are no longer a hospitable environment for four-footed pests, the hunting grounds within a house or two still seem to be abundant.

Sometimes I Have to Mourn

My best hunter, Hailey disappeared a month ago, and I’ve seen or heard no trace of her, though I’ve searched the neighborhood near my house. I didn’t wander far, as I know she stuck to a 4 or 5 house radius. While it’s possible someone or something carried her off, nothing but the odd behavior of the other two a few days after she disappeared gives me reason to believe I’ll find any evidence of foul play (or, perhaps, fowl play). Since she left, I’ve had no presents. Max seems to have put a moratorium on his own hunting. Maybe it’s his way of mourning his hunting buddy and friend.

Sadly, I never took any pictures of Hailey, even after she went from semi-feral to her more recent demanding self who liked meowing at the door late at night to get her share of pets. Oddly, I don’t feel like she’s dead. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, or maybe it’s accurate. I have no real way of knowing unless she reappears. Max and Cinders, the other two garage cats did stick closer to home for the first week or two after Hailey failed to show up. I wish I could understand them so I’d know for sure. But animal communication isn’t my strong suit despite the many years I’ve shared my home with cats.

Communication is Mostly a One-Way Street

My cats understand me a whole lot better than I do them. They know when I’m feeling sad or ill. A couple of them even know exactly where I’m aching, and will lay across the offending spot, purring to ease they pain. Still, they follow the age-old feline custom of hiding their own discomfort from me, often until it’s too far along to fix. I promise myself I’ll be more observant, and sometimes I even succeed. Unfortunately for the cats I’ve lost both recently and further in the past, I’m less observant than I’d like to believe; or wish I could be.

Sometimes I get lucky. A few months ago, Dylan was quite overt about showing me something wasn’t right. He threw up sometimes multiple times a day, and almost always on my comforter. After 2 days of washing as many as 6 loads of bedding a day, I knew he needed help. Though it’s meant a daily regimen of steroids and a mild antibiotic combined with daily fish oil and l-lysine vitamins, we seem to be controlling the issue, if not curing it (I’m told it isn’t really something they can cure).

We’ve had a bit of trial and error trying to cut back on the meds, but managed to find a combination that works without having to resort to anything stronger, or with a higher risk of side-effects. He’s put back the weight he lost and then some (not uncommon with steroids), and is keeping his food down quite nicely. He isn’t fond of the daily pills, but stopped running away from me. He knows they make him feel better, and that missing a dose or two has unpleasant consequences. Again, I think he’s smarter than me more often than not.

Loosening My Heartstrings Before I’m Ready

Though many cats have come and gone from my household over the years, there are always those who grab hold of my heart tighter than others. Dylan has, without a doubt, grabbed on tighter than anyone, but only a little bit tighter than Toby who I lost in 2017 at the tender age of 11. Even Munchkin who left me in December of 2018, and who was one of the few I got as a kitten wrenched my heart for a little while when I had to make the decision to let her rest easily. But she wasn’t as hard to get over as Toby, and neither will compare to the enormous hole Dylan will leave when his time comes (hopefully later rather than sooner).

I was a complete mess when he got sick the last time, and though he’s doing well now, I can tell he’s slowing down. 14 is old for a cat, though many do live longer. He is one of the longer-lived cats I’ve had the honor of sharing my own home with. Patches and Missy both lived past their 17th birthday.

Cherishing Them for the Short Time We’re Given

Lately, for reasons that could be explained by food, environment, or simply bad luck, many haven’t seen their 12th birthday. It tears me up to lose them that young but at the same time, I’m grateful for the years of unconditional love they give me, and the trust they put in me to do right by them.

I tease them when they act sad about me leaving the house, even for a couple of hours. Yet I understand. Their lifetimes are at best 1/4 of mine, so hours to me seems like forever to them. When I’m gone for days, it’s easy for them to feel like I’ve abandoned them, despite the fact I return each and every time. They have no way of knowing where or why I went, much less if and when I’ll return to them.

I love working from home where my office is often their hangout. Some will sleep on the desk or behind the computer monitors while others sit on the bookshelf under the window watching the world go by, and the birds and squirrels playing. Having me home so much in the last few years definitely suits them fine. Like me, they can’t regain the 8-10 hours a day they used to lose me but we’re making the most of whatever time we have left. Isn’t that really the best we can ask for whether it’s with our pets, our friends, or our family?

Grateful for Every Moment

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful I’ve been able to work from home and spend more time with my shorter-lived friends.
2. I’m grateful for a home that’s filled with love any time of the day or night, even when there’s no other human in sight.
3. I’m grateful for a community which understands the bonds we have with our pets, and supports each other through the difficult times.
4. I’m grateful for the opportunities I’ve had to share my life and home with some amazing animals, and look forward to sharing it with them for as long as I’m alive. They make my life worth living, even during the toughest of times.
5. I’m grateful for abundance; love, companionship, joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain, laughter and tears, inspiration, motivation, health, peace, harmony, balance, philanthropy, and prosperity.

Love and Light

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a writer, blogger, ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income. If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author or in her new group, Putting Your Whole Heart Forward

Empaths and Intentionally Attracting

Giving Myself Permission to Engage in Intentionally Attracting

One of my biggest challenges as an Empath has been learning to trust my feelings when I think someone is interested in me. I’ve had too many opportunities to lose my confidence in this regard. Too often, I’ve projected my own feelings on the situation and seen something that wasn’t there and taken clumsy action, only to walk away with egg on my face. Ultimately, I took things to the opposite extreme and denied the possibility that anyone would be attracted to me, even in friendship.

Though I’ve overcome the distrust of attraction on a friendship level, I’ve yet to learn to trust someone might find me attractive on a more intimate level. Yet it wasn’t until recently I recognized the armor I’d been wearing to keep from looking the fool.

Whereas I might find myself initially attracted to someone, usually after talking to them a while and finding we had an interest or two in coming (typically dancing or writing), but sometimes because they stood out from the crowd for some reason. My favorites are people who don’t fit the mold and thus, are something of an enigma. I simply can’t resist a good mystery!

Setting the Right Intentions

The trouble is, if I don’t get an immediate response or feeling from them there’s at least a modicum of mutual attraction, I tend to shut down and even block their energy for fear I’ll do or say something stupid and make a fool of myself. My knee-jerk reaction isn’t unfounded. I’ve made a fool of myself often enough when I thought I saw mutual interest where none existed. Unlike some of my friends, I’m not the type to walk up to a man and ask point-blank if there’s any spark. In some ways, I envy the ones who are able to, and can walk away with their head held high if the answer is no.

In recognizing this rather glaring defect in my character, I realized a couple of things. First that I’d love to meet someone who enjoys dancing as much as I do, and that a non-dancer was a show-stopper for me. Experience has proven I’m happier alone than with someone who doesn’t share my passion for dancing. Second, that I’ve unconsciously set an intention to attract a conscious Empath or HSP. I’ve specified “conscious” as someone who has neither recognized nor accepted their abilities will either be unaware of the attraction, or will, as I so often do, deny its existence and move on. I also have my parents’ examples of how destructive it is to be an unconscious Empath (or so I believe).

The realization of my subliminal intention came as a result of my thoughts about setting blocks. I realized doing so would, if there was actual interest, not go unnoticed by an Empath or HSP. Someone sensitive to the energies and emotions of others would immediately notice if someone who was previously open had blocked their emotions and energy.

Keeping Lines of Communication Open

In a perfect world, they might approach me and question the change, but the reality is most would let it go if they didn’t already know me well. I sure wouldn’t walk up to someone I’d never met or barely knew and ask why they were suddenly blocked. So why would I expect it of someone else?

I realized I’ve taken to shutting down too soon and failing to allow the person sending the signals I think I’m reading to come to their own realizations and conclusions. By shutting down before they’ve been afforded the time to do their own processing, I’m killing the seed before it has a chance to settle in and put out a root or two. If they are an unconscious Empath, staying open will likely result in avoidance anyway, as I saw not long ago.

The Voices in the Heads of the Unconsciously Empathic

I think unconscious Empaths recognize someone who sees more than they want to reveal. They’re self-protective mechanisms enable them to put up blocks or, at the very least, implement behavior which diverts attention away from the parts they don’t wish to share. I, myself am put off by someone who drinks excessively. They don’t end up hiding those feelings so much as overwhelming me with everything they’re carrying around. I’ll shy away and leave them alone just to avoid the overwhelm. The process is akin to hiding something in plain sight or a magician’s sleight of hand. Too much information, at least for an Empath is enough to mask what’s really going on, unless of course they’re willing to wade through the muck to get to the real issue.

Unless it’s someone I’m close to or already care about, I’m not likely to push past the wall of noise. Frankly, it’s too painful and disorienting to try. Though in at least one case, I wish I’d tried, even though I know in my heart I wasn’t meant to. None of us are truly meant to interfere with someone else’s life path. We can offer love and compassion, but they still have the choice to accept or reject it. If we see the walls and masks, we can only be there offering a hand. Their choice to turn away, or mask what’s going on is still in their own hands.

It reminds me of a question I recently saw on Facebook about draining yourself trying to heal others. In my mind, we can never heal anyone but ourselves. What we can do is to act as a facilitator for someone to find their own healing. Whether it’s helping them find the hidden wounds or offering an energy boost so they can work through a particularly tough time, we’re never more than an amplifier for what they already have, and quite often, far less.

Consciously Choosing Whether to Attract or Repel

Getting back to the original question, I realized blocking was a pointless and unnecessary effort unless of course my intention was to repel someone (and yes, there have been times!). Blocking everyone and everything was the me of 20 years ago. It was a lonely, sad existence and one I choose not to revisit. Instead, I must honor my more open, honest nature.

That doesn’t mean projecting all my emotions like some of those who use alcohol to mask the pain, while instead spewing every emotion they carry out into the world, thereby bombarding every Empath and HSP in the vicinity. It does mean continuing to allow the absolute joy I feel while on the dance floor to project outward and connect with the energy of those who either dance with me or enjoy the floor show without expectations or thoughts of reward.

I’ve taken the first steps towards attracting the right person; accepting I deserve them, and refusing to shut myself down. The rest is up to the Universe. And I’ve gone from believing I neither want nor need a companion to realizing I want the right companion and knowing I’ll settle for nothing less. For some, that might be a no-brainer. For me, it’s a gigantic leap of faith.

Gratitude, Gratitude, and More Gratitude

My gratitudes today are:

1. I am grateful for the revelations and epiphanies I find in my Morning Pages.
2. I am grateful for the lessons I’ve learned about the masks I used to wear. Just because it’s an old habit, doesn’t mean it’s what’s best for us.
3. I am grateful for aha moments.
4. I am grateful for my cats who’ve added dragging me out of bed in the morning to their job descriptions.
5. I am grateful for abundance; ideas, intelligence, wisdom, epiphanies, connections, relationships, intentions, freedom, peace, love, health, prosperity, and philanthropy.

Love and Light

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a writer, blogger, Virtual Assistant and advocate for cats. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. She specializes in creating content that helps entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income. If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author