"Mindful Living NJ´s community events have really made an impact on my life. I´ve learned so much about holistic health and can be more empowered when it comes to my family´s health." jeanne
When I was in high school, one of the worst names you could be called (save for the C-word) was two-faced. If you were two-faced, you were a backstabber, disloyal, and untrustworthy. Two-faced meant you said one thing to your friends and something else to their enemies.
But lately, I’ve been feeling two-faced, and not sure how to balance out both sides. Being The Wellness Bitch opens up my throat chakra, allows me to feel self-expressed, and be an advocate for people who cannot say what needs to be said. Being Mindful Girl nurtures my spirit and allows new friends to effortlessly and clearly appear in my life. Both serve me. But both fail me. Which is why they need each other.
What can I do to blend these two faces so that I may feel both self expressed and loved? It’s a good question that I don’t have an answer to yet, but continue to explore.
Where are you not fully self-expressed? And what are you afraid might happen if you say what needs to be said?
Jen Maidenberg is the founder of Mindful Living NJ. She also wakes people up to wellness choices at www.thewellnessbitch.com
I’m in the midde of contributing to one of the “greatest services a citizen can commit to.” Jury duty. I’ve managed to escape and outwit jury duty for my entire adult life, but when the notice came this time, I decided to serve. It seemed like good timing.
Don’t get me wrong. I have no intention of sitting on a jury. Despite not wanting to serve extended time on a jury, I found today that I couldn’t help but answer all the questions honestly and fairly. I made it into the jury box, but was excused by the defendant’s lawyer. Shocked and a bit offended by this, I thought to myself, “Well, fine! Your loss.” The fact of the matter is, despite my very strong opinions, I think I’d make a pretty impartial juror.
In another life, I might have been a lawyer. I come from a family full of them and I definitely possess the genetic tendency to argue my way out of things. I’m a huge fan of Law and Order…and the idea that my opinion may contribute to a significant judgement in someone’s life exhilarates me. Of course, the trial I was being considered for was in regards to a personal injury case. Not the most significant. (Sorry, Dad.)
So, I’m on my way back there today because, for some reason, in Essex County, being excused from a jury is not a “get out of jury duty” free card. You’re entered back into the pool for a different potential jury.
During my experience sitting in the pews of the beautiful Historic Courthouse in Downtown Newark yesterday, I did have a few revelations. Once you enter the courtroom, you are forbidden from doing anything but sitting, looking, and listening. No phones. No magazines. No newspapers. No talking. Nothing. Just sitting. And listening. And looking.
Sound familiar?
It was quite meditative, in fact.
Similar to what happens to me in yoga class or during a massage, it took 10 minutes or so before my mind stopped going a mile a minute. At that point, I started paying attention. To my body. To the paintings of old dead judges hanging on the walls. To my fellow petit juror candidates. To the sounds in the room.
What a nice opportunity to meditate. I was forced into being present.
Part of me wished I could invite my neighbors to do the same, but I gave up the urge to share and just settled in. I closed my eyes, rested my hands on my knees, took a deep breath, and smiled.
Anyone who knows me knows that sugar is my drug, particularly chocolate chip cookies, with dark chocolate a close second. I’ve given up a lot of food and drink in the name of wellness. And, don’t get me wrong: I’ve seen big benefits. Otherwise, why would I stick with it? It’s certainly not the easiest way to live.
The most profound impact comes when I completely eliminate sugar. Notice I’m not using the past tense there. Because like any addicition, I struggle with staying the course.
Today happens to be Day One of yet another attempt to get back off sugar. The holidays always trip me up. Since January 1, I’ve committed to giving up sugar twice, only to fail within a few days. But as a firm believer in accountability, I’m once again making public my attempt to go off sugar.
The Chicago Tribune reported last week in an article entitled “Sugar Shockers,” that for the first time the American Heart Association has set a sugar benchmark for daily intake. (I was quoted in this article, which is cool, but not the important part.) No more than 25 grams of added sugar a day for women and 37.5 grams for men.
What’s 25 grams of sugar? You’re gonna tremble as you read the label of your:
Yogurt containers
Spaghetti sauce jars
Salad dressings
Cookies
Power bars
25 grams is not a lot. And if you think Splenda is the answer, well then you better head over to this post by The Wellness Bitch. She’ll give you a thing or two to think about.
Wrapping your mind around sugar takes a lot more thought than choosing “sugar-free.” In fact, nine times out of ten if the product is labeled sugar-free, you shouldn’t be picking it up at all.
Wish me luck on my journey. And, if I were you, I’d stay out of my way the next few days. Cranky bitch doesn’t even begin to describe it.
How many different ways do we as human beings ask the same question?
Am I worthy?
Do I matter?
Am I normal?
Am I special?
Am I important?
Do I make a difference?
Do you love me?
From one of my favorite broadway musical-turned-films, Fiddler On The Roof:
How would our relationships with others be different than they are now if we (and they) knew the answer was yes?
When I imagine this other universe, I’m astounded by the changes I can envision. I invite you to play the game. Imagine your interactions during the day with the people in your life — from the seemingly meaningless (like your mailman) to the seemingly important (like your spouse or your boss). What differences do you notice when you believe the answer to the question, “do you love me” is “yes?”
I mean, ‘Should old acquaintance be forgot’? Does that mean that we should forget old acquaintances, or does it mean if we happened to forget them, we should remember them, which is not possible because we already forgot?” –Harry, from “When Harry Met Sally”
A few months ago, I had dinner with my old friend, Suzanne. She recently found the high school graduation gift I gave her: A copy of Dr. Seuss’ “Oh the Places You’ll Go.” The back of the book was inscribed with a nostalgic farewell message from me — a memento of sorts to send her off to the great unknown…college.
Who knew that almost 20 years later we’d be sitting in a Thai restaurant in Montclair reminiscing, comparing our husbands and our kids, and dishing about old classmates? Along the journey, from Beck Middle School until now, our paths have crossed and then uncrossed and then crossed again. How did it come to be that Suzanne and I are still friends, still in touch and sharing our lives with each other when so many others have flitted in and out? We are very different women than we were girls. There were challenges we met over the years (distance, disagreements, etc.) that could have meant the end of our friendship, but somehow didn’t. What has kept it alive?
What is the formula for enduring friendship?
Who knows? I surely don’t. I know I’m lucky to have a handful of solid, long-standing friendships. I also know that I place a lot of value on true, constant, and loyal companions. And that I struggle with my emotions for quite some time when I feel betrayed, dismissed, or burned.
I’ve also been known to get hung up over unfinished business. Relationships that ended too soon or on a sour note. I often feel uncomfortable when I run into old acquaintances in the grocery store. How long of a conversation is long enough? 2 minutes? 5 minutes? Then, how do we sign off? “Nice to see you.” (Too phony.) “Take care.” (Too smug.) “It was nice running into you.” (Too awkward!!!)
It’s certain that I focus way too much energy on why or how a relationship met its demise, and not enough on the takeaways. For instance, what impact did that classmate or colleague make on my life? If just for a month, a year, a moment? Who did I become as part of that couple? Who am I now? What lessons did I learn from loving that friend? From hurting her? From helping her?
I know I might meet debate on this, but I truly believe that every person I’ve met in my life has impacted and shaped me. Some more than others, of course. But, some in the most unexpected and significant ways.
It’s with this in mind that I’m going to take on an interesting experiment in the New Year.
The next time I go to the grocery store, I’m going to wear a different hat. Not literally, but figuratively. Instead of that awkward, what-does-she-think-of-me-now hat I wear when I run into old acquaintances, I’m going to wear the I’m-grateful-for-having-known-you-whomever-you-are hat.
And that new hat’s going with me when I drop off my son at school, when I go to the gym, get coffee at Starbucks, and even when I’m trolling Facebook. I might not say it out loud, but when I see you and smile, I’ll be thinking, “Thank you.” I bet you’ll be able to tell.
And to my old acquaintances: Though we’re separated by years or by distance, by disagreements or by disillusion, I thank you for your contribution to the making of me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I’m truly grateful.
Should Old Acquaintance be forgot,
and never thought upon;
The flames of Love extinguished,
and fully past and gone:
Is thy sweet Heart now grown so cold,
that loving Breast of thine;
That thou canst never once reflect
on Old long syne.
