Entering the "Sex Goddess" Phase

It’s 6 am and I’m in the Tim Horton’s lineup at the airport when this excited little boy races past me. He’s about 3, and he’s delighted with his day so far. He’s got a little Ottawa Senators backpack strapped to his back, and he’s sporting a forest green t-shirt with a big yellow tyrannosaurus Rex.  I’m so captivated by his grin that I almost miss the caption blazoned across the bottom of it: “This is my dinosaur phase”.

Instantly my boys are young again, and we’re snuggled together on the couch with The Big Dinosaur Book, learning how to pronounce multi-syllable prehistoric lizard names. It’s such a good-feeling moment that I delight in it more than the rich smell of the fresh-brewed coffee I am next in line to buy.

And in the same instant I think: I am entering my “Sex Goddess” Phase. As I sip my coffee I marvel that it wasn’t until this moment, 10 minutes before I am to board a plane for “Back to the Body: Sensuous Retreat for Women” to realize it. 

It’s been a long time coming. Sure, I only booked the retreat a month ago, but I’ve been in “Transition Phase” for quite some time now. And among other things there’s been a divorce and a couple of moves across the country and the emptying of the nest and going back to school and counseling and a  new/old boyfriend and finding steady employment and the beginnings of menopause. It’s been charming….really.

Okay, maybe charming isn’t the whole truth. It’s been challenging and exciting, amazing and aggravating, and there’s been a lot of tears and confusion. But there’s been so much good stuff. So many wonderful people to meet, ideas to explore, and lessons to learn. I’m  knowing myself in a whole new way. And what I see, I like- I AM becoming the woman I’ve wanted. As I dare to peek into the dark corners of my mind, I’m discovering that they are not so scary, mostly just neglected and ignored. There’s a lot of old ideas and pre-conceived notions lurking in the shadows, and while it can be down-right uncomfortable to shine a light on them, beginning  to unwind the threads that just don’t fit into my life any more is exhilarating and freeing enough to make up for it. 

And now I realize it’s all been preparation for entering the “Sex Goddess” phase-for Becoming a woman who celebrates wholeness-physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. A confident, succulent woman who radiates love, joy, and playfulness. A woman who embraces her deep, innate sexuality and her expansive state of mind. 

But I suspect that the life of a Sex Goddess is not all pool boys and chocolate martinis. A Sex Goddess needs to pay attention. She must take the time to listen to her inner truth and act accordingly. She needs to make choices that make sense to her, and to take responsibility for who she is, and how she is in the world. She loves and accepts herself no matter what. She knows Becoming is her real work, and she savours every juicy, delicious, terrifying moment of it.

When I get off this plane, I’m going to get me a tight white t-shirt and a box of markers and design my own shirt. On the front there will be a big Goddess shape and the words “This is my Sex Goddess Phase”. The back will be all colours and spirals and triangles and squiggles and words like ‘power’ ‘joy’ ‘divine’ ‘adventure’ ‘respect’ ‘sacred’  ‘soul whirings’ ‘moments’  ‘possibilities’ and ‘love’. Maybe if I wear it, She will come.

Stand in your power, woman!

I need to admit, I’ve been abashed: as in confused and apologetic, instead of bold and shameless. I want to live my life out loud but I’ve been doing it very quietly. You might not have noticed. 

When I was about 10, I looked up ‘Tracy’ in a ‘name your baby book’ where they list the meanings and origins of popular names. I discovered that Tracy means ‘bold and courageous’. This did not please me. I wanted my name to mean ‘beautiful star-child’ or ‘divine light’. There was nothing sexy or romantic about ‘bold and courageous’. But could my mother have had a better wish for her daughter? I think not! 

I’ve been a good girl who followed all the rules, spoken and unspoken, without question. I wanted to be beautiful, I didn’t want to make mistakes, and I wanted people to like me. I was, and still am, a capital-P Pleaser, dammit!

But at least now I am questioning. Paying attention. Sometimes it takes me a while, but when I notice that I am in a box, I can take a look around and decide if I like it, or if I want to kick the side down and get the heck out of Dodge. 

Sometimes it’s dark outside of Dodge, inky-black, and I can’t even see the first step. And there is dragon on my shoulder who hisses in my ear, ‘be afraid, don’t move, stay safe’. And it’s hard to make a dragon, even a little one, shut up.

So I’m in this box, staying safe, but not protecting my inner light, but preventing it from shining. Does this sound like ‘beautiful star-child of Divine light?’ Um, no.

Turns out, you can’t BE ‘beautiful star-child of Divine light’ without being ‘bold and courageous’ first.

So I’ve named the dragon Feona, and I was happy to discover that if you give her a marshmallow to toast, she stops hissing, at least long enough to eat it.

I’m off to the grocery to stock up on marshmallows, and then watch out for flying cardboard. And maybe get some sunglasses, it’s about to get very bright.

Thanks, mom, for everything. And darling daughter, your name means, “universal, whole, complete.’ My wish for yo

You can't stop the signal

There is an opening, a knowing unfolding in me. I don’t know why today’s the day. Why does something that I have heard/read/discussed many, many times in many different ways finally sink down into the depths of me today? Why does it suddenly become clear to me this Tuesday morning at 6 am while I am spooning with my lover and smelling the sweet warmth of his neck and listening to his soft breath as the soft grey light of morning slips in the window? Why, today, do I hear a big deep silence in my head followed by a few words remembered from a sci-fi movie: “You can’t stop the signal.”?

The signal is Love. The universe is Love. The whole point of everything is Love. What else could there be?

You can ignore it, disallow it, hide from it, squint at it through eyes clouded with anger or mistrust or fear, but it’s still there. We can get all up in our heads and try to think things through and reason things out and that’s all well and good, but we are not bodies that happen to have a soul residing inside them, we are souls hanging out in a physical body.

We are surrounded by love. It’s in the trees and the sky, in bird song and children’s laughter and the purr of a cat. It’s in the warmth of the sun and the mist of the rain. I can’t for the life of me today think why we forget this. How do we get so busy and focused on the details and the drama of our lives? Why do we get so small-minded that we can’t see the bigness of what is right in front of our collective noses?

Its 10:15 and so far, I’m still feeling the love. Jack and I had a great walk where we encountered three squirrels and a couple of cardinals. I made the best coffee ever this morning. My hair looks great and I haven’t even showered yet! And I don’t have to shower unless I want to.   

And I wonder: How long can this last? Can I maintain this feeling as I fold the laundry and make dinner? Can I remain open and trusting when my internet connection is down and I can’t post this amazing revelation? Will I fall asleep tonight safe in the arms of a benevolent Universe? And what about tomorrow? How strong will the signal be tomorrow when I wake up to my first day back at work after the summer?

Perhaps I need some bright pink, heart-shaped Post-it notes plastered all over the house, the car, the neighbourhood- reminding me in every moment to relax, and breathe, and stay open to the love.

But I love a good story!

I’m a storyteller. As a kid I made up bedtime stories starring Moi, and this blog is all about telling stories, starring Moi - all very enjoyable for me, I must admit. And it’s well documented that people learn well from stories: We have histories and Holy books, parables and tall tales, mysteries and romances and Sci-Fi-thrillers. Our parents, our teachers, our friends- everyone is telling and sharing stories. Humans love stories.

When something happens to us, viola! A new story. Like the other day, I was walking along with the dog, talking to myself and enjoying a loving morning, when whoops! Jack cut across in front of me and there I was, lying on the sidewalk with two skinned knees. This is fact. That is what happened. That is the whole, truthful story.

But by the time I got home, 3 minutes later, well, the story was much bigger than that!  In fact, it wasn’t one story, but many. “I am a clumsy ass. “ “Actually, I have new runners and the grips are really strong so I couldn’t turn fast enough.” “The neighbour now thinks I am a clumsy ass with giant feet and an unruly dog.” “That’s it for shorts this summer, my knees are a disgrace.” “I’m so embarrassed, I may never walk the dog in daylight again.” 

I had a job interview last week. In fact, I got called back for the second interview. I was supposed to hear by Wednesday if I had the job or not. But I didn’t hear until Friday afternoon. Plenty of time to tell myself lots of stories and make myself more than a little crazy: “They hated me. I didn’t get the job and they can’t be bothered to call.” “I’m a terrible person.” “I’m too old to start a new career.” “I should have dressed more casually to suit the office.” “I forgot to mention that LinkedIn connection which was a great personal connection.” Tracy! Breathe. Here’s the story: I had a job interview and I didn’t get the job. Done.

Lots of other stuff happened this week too, and I told myself a bunch more stories, and got a little more crazy each time, and then- with all the reading I’ve been doing lately- Thich Naht Hanh, Lao-Tse, Martha Beck and Tosha Silver- something clicked!

And that whole concept of detachment, of not taking things personally, started to make sense.  Somehow I was able to step back and see how I was making myself feel bad by telling myself all these (mostly) negative stories.  

I believe that the life we are living is an example of the stories we are telling ourselves, deliberately or unconsciously: I’m fat/thin. I’ve got great/scraggly hair. People like/hate me. I have (no) money. Whatever.  We live the life we feel. If we feel abundance, then we have enough. If we feel attractive, we radiate confidence and people respond to that. Conversely, if we feel like a failure, then nothing we do seems good enough. How many self-help gurus and spiritual leaders are out there saying, “Think Positive”? All of them!

I don’t expect I’ll be able to think positive all the time. Sometimes tuff happens- icky, annoying stuff- but I can remember to step back and look at it for what it is. I can stop making up icky annoying stories. I can stop trying to imagine why so-and-so did what they did, that it was all about me, that I am an icky, annoying person, blah blah blah. Maybe I can tell myself more positive stories, or maybe, I can just let it be. I can just look at it and go, “Yup, there it is, stuff that happened.” And then I can remember to love myself while I get on with my day.

The (dis)comfort Zone

I’ve always thought that life is supposed to feel good. I’ve never bought into the idea that we are on this earth to suffer. Joy and happiness are our birth-right. I think we have to live our best life, right now, every day. I don’t know what comes next -reincarnation, the Pearly Gates, a big whoosh back into pure, positive energy-but I see no reason not to live a great life now. And if there is a Grand Designer, well, I don’t believe for a minute that she said, “Yup, gonna make my peeps really suffer, and the ones who suffer the most and best, I am gonna reward them with pie in the sky, baby.  And the rest, well, let them have their cake now, cause later, there is gonna be BBQ!“ Um, I don’t think so.

Divine influence aside, I believe that our thoughts create our reality, or at least shape it. So I can choose to find the good in things, I can choose to think a thought that feels better, I can actively search for the best in the people and situations that surround me. And whether I am creating my reality or not, it doesn’t matter. Because when I am looking for the good in my life, I am more likely to see it.

So I was thinking: If the whole point of our life in this time-space-reality is the expansion of the Universe, and if the way to expand the universe is to actively look for and choose what makes us happy and what makes us feel better, then why is life so much more interesting in the (dis)comfort zone?

While I was away traveling this summer and I was unsure, and scared, and lonely, I learned so much. It was daunting and exciting and exhilarating and life-giving. I was expanding every day. My brain synapses were snapping a mile a minute. Far from home, surrounded by people who did not speak English, I not only found the Tracy-who-was, but I discovered the Tracy-who-is-becoming. What a rush!

Now I’m home, in my big airy house with the air conditioning and the bright windows, where I know the lay of the land, and I feel safe and comfortable. And indeed, I AM safe and comfortable, but there’s not so much going on. I’m distracted by my lover and my big screen tv and juicy conversations with friends and take-out butter chicken. It’s relaxing, and peaceful and easier, but is it better?

I’ll take some of each please. Give me a little sumptin’ sumptin’ going on, with a side of dinner and a movie. Let there be some challenges that stimulate new solutions. If I feel sad or angry or depressed or bored, let me be inspired into action. And then I can have a massage to soothe my aching muscles. The feeling of satisfaction that comes from fixing a problem, well, you don’t get that on the couch while eating bonbons. Not that chocolate and a good bottle of red doesn’t produce a satisfaction all its own.

I used to think that if I wanted a ‘good’ life, I had to be good- follow the rules, get along with everyone, do the right thing, and don’t cause any trouble. And in fact, I think you can live a perfectly good life exactly like that.

But maybe my definition of ‘good’ has changed. And so has my definition of ‘life’.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

People have started to ask me things; “How was your trip?” “Did you find yourself?”  “Why did you come home early?"

And it’s a bit uncomfortable. Until I remind myself of something that I learned this summer, that I don’t have anything to prove to anyone, that I am just fine exactly how I am, and that if I really do want to live in love and openness, I have to move through the discomfort to the truth of where I am in the moment.

And in this moment, I am happy to be home, so appreciative of the experiences I have had this summer, and eager to see what happens next.

How was my trip? My trip was awesome, amazing, challenging, and eye-opening. 

I knew that I had to be alone, that I needed to learn how to listen to my own inner voice, to follow my inner guidance. I had to be able to recognize my own intuition and to hear what it was saying. And I needed to learn how to listen. 

When ‘the Wunderbar fell’, it was the first time in a long time that I had listened to my own ‘knowing’, somehow certain that it was the exact right thing to do. I knew that I would go, no matter what anyone else thought. It’s a great feeling, that ‘knowing’, and I set off for Europe to find more of it.

I have to admit, I’ve always believed that I could do anything I put my mind to. But knowing, and ‘knowing’, they are different. I believed that I could travel to Europe by myself, but now I know it. I can figure out train schedules and make myself understood even though I don’t speak the language and I can walk a long ways wearing a heavy backpack, even with blisters. I feel confident and capable in a new expanded way.  

There was a real freedom in being alone, in only having myself to please. But I also discovered the challenge of taking the responsibility to figure out what I wanted and what would actually be pleasing. And then owning it. It’s powerful. And sometimes lonely.

In fact, I was lonely a lot of the time I was away. I had no frame of reference for enjoying things alone. The Mona Lisa is just a small painting behind glass when there is no one there to say, “Hey, here we are, looking at the world’s most famous painting together.” I actually had to remind myself that I was in The Louvre, to appreciate the beauty all around me. I had to forget the crowds and the fact that I was alone among them. And then there was this delicious moment, when I was captivated by the enormous collection of ancient pottery. I gazed at these beautiful urns, etched with the ancient patterns I had just spent two weeks dancing, and the tears were running down my face. I felt so connected to the ancestors who had created and used these vessels. The guard in that room came over to me, touched my shoulder and simply said, “I know.” A perfect moment shared with a perfect stranger.

At first I was envious of all the beautiful clothes at the festival, but I learned to appreciate the 2 Merino wool t-shirts that I wore day after day. They were cool and comfortable, washed like a dream in the sink, and dried overnight. No one cared that my hair was a bit flat so I allowed myself to give up that judgement as well. I had no one to impress but myself, and I was already impressed that I was living out of one small backpack and that I could hike 5 miles to the next town.

In the past meals eaten alone in restaurants have been quick and rare, but I learned that it was okay to relax, take my time, and appreciate the moment. I began to realize that I could take the time, that the only person judging me was me- in fact I am certain I paid more attention to the other diners than they to me. 

I still think it’s more fun to have someone to share your experiences with. But I also think with practice, I could get better at traveling alone. And I know that I can do it. And the power of knowing is immensely satisfying.

The intensity of the dance workshop and festival- ten days of deep connection- followed by weeks of aloneness demonstrated to me just how important relating to other people is. When it was no longer easy to connect, and the feelings of loneliness and vulnerability were forcefully demonstrated to me, I saw very clearly how I want to live. Not alone. Not disconnected. Not judging, or being judged. But open, loving, joyfully connected to the world around me.

And once I discovered that, once I had that knowing, it was time to come home. To my family, to my friends, to my life, to me. I'll be looking for more Tracy every day.

Surrender is a Dirty Word

I’m in Montpellier, France, waiting to go home. This morning I checked my email and today’s quotes from The Daily Love  (http://thedailylove.com/) all featured the word ‘surrender’. This has never been my favourite word. I always think of it as giving in, giving up, letting someone or something else take control. And I like to be in charge of my own life, if nothing else. You’re not the boss of me!

Quote #1 "Growth demands a temporary surrender of security."

- Gail Sheehy, journalist, lecturer and best-selling author.

After more than 5 weeks away, I really get this. Being on my own in Europe with a backpack and no real plan was definitely more growth and less security.  You know when you leave home things are going to be different, you step across the threshold into the unknown, you deliberately choose to surrender – it’s a trade-off you have to be willing to make and accept. And you learn things about yourself and the world.

I’ve learned that I can take care of myself, that I can haul that damn backpack around, that I can make myself understood avec mon mauvais francais, that I can follow a backpacking trail, that I can reach most places on my back with sunscreen, and how to order a decent coffee in Paris, among other things.

But these last few days have taken surrender to a whole new level of argg! Once I had made the decision to return home, I wanted to Be There Now! (‘Montpellier’s 2012 tourism theme, strangely enough) But since I forgot my ruby slippers, I had to surrender to the fact that it would be another week until I was back in Ottawa.

After surrendering to a short bout of whinging and carrying on I decided to surrender to the inevitable and plan my last few days. Really, 3 days in Montpellier, on the Mediterranean coast is nothing to complain about.

But my heart wasn’t in it. I’ve had to remind myself daily to be in the moment, to pay attention to where I was. And I’ve surrendered as best I could. And I’ve seen some great stuff and eaten some great food and had some fun. But did the English walking tour and wine tasting have to be cancelled so I had to agree to the French tour with the audio pack that I would have to return the next day to get my 70 Euros back that I had to cancel because my shoe broke in the middle of Place de Comedie? The lovely people in the tourist office did give me my tour money back AND gave me some tape so I could hold my shoe together long enough to get back to the hotel. I surrendered to the mini tourist train tour and supper at the hotel, oh yes I did.

Today I went to the beach. I wore my other shoes. It was a short trip but long waits for transit connections. But when you are traveling you’ve got to surrender to the local rhythms and there was no place else I had to be.  And then there I was, under a bright blue sky, up to my neck in the cool clear waters of the Mediterranean. And I got a little teary, which I am sure was from the salt. And I was there. Me, Tracy Montgomery, swimming in the sea, living the moment. Surrendering to this beautiful, glistening, amazing  moment. Ahhhh.

Quotes #2 and #3 have nothing to do with the above but they are worth pondering if you’re like me and have always found ‘surrender’ to be a dirty word.

"Surrender is faith that the power of Love can accomplish anything even when you cannot forsee the outcome."

- Deepak Chopra, modern day mystic and best-selling author.

"When we know love matters more than anything, and we know that nothing else REALLY matters, we move into the state of surrender. Surrender does not diminish our power, it enhances it."

- Sara Paddison, best-selling author