Author Archives: L.M. Stull

About L.M. Stull

A Washington, DC native, L.M. Stull spends her days chained to a desk at a law firm in southern Virginia. When she’s not feverishly taking orders from attorneys, she writes. Her stories tell of the human spirit – sometimes sad, sometimes not – most can relate to them on some level or another. A Thirty-Something Girl is her debut novel.

When It Rains, It Pours ~ Living Through Life’s Little Lessons

First, I must say I am quite disappointed with myself in the total and utter lacking of my blog posts as of late. Life… it indeed gets in the way. But, ladies and gentlemen, I have returned and am promising myself to get back into a somewhat normal schedule. Normal for me, anyway ;)

Today is such an appropriate day to write my next Lisa’s Liberation post. As this week was truly one of the more trying weeks of my recent existence. Life constantly throws conflict and change into the wind. Testing us. And I think that sometimes if we deal with these lessons too well, life decides to turn up the heat a little. Make things a little more stressful and a little more difficult.

The snowball effect.

My week began with only a small amount of turmoil, and although a tiny thorn in my side, it was indeed nothing that I wasn’t well-equipped to handle; I do pride myself in being a very patient and grounded individual, after all. However, even I have my limits. It seemed that with each conflict that arouse and was then consequently resolved, two and three would then pop up around me. By the time mid-week came, I felt it happening: the dark doors to my soul were opening, a fire was starting, and all hope for rational thought was lost.

Shaking hands with the devil.

I personally do believe in the devil and in hell. But not the way many do. I believe the devil lives inside each of us. And life… it is both heaven and hell. I lost my grip on reality and grabbed my own personal devil’s hand. And walked with him. This week, I let all those wonderful barriers I built crumble.  And a dark fog of despair washed over me. The thoughts and contemplations that then subsequently occurred were not very good ones. For the first time in years, I felt as though there really was no purpose. I was starting that shuffle again. Walking around in a haze. Confused. Lost. Questioning everything and anything.

Moving backwards.

All this heaviness had me stepping back, no, actually, sprinting, backward. Away from my life. I was, once again, afraid. And honestly didn’t know how I could even survive another day. The sun was out, but I saw only darkness ahead. I wanted out. And quickly.

But in the midst of my dramatic spiral downward, something happened. For once, I listened to that inner voice. She was still there. Screaming. And I finally took a moment to listen. To ponder. And to reassemble myself.

After hours and hours of fruitful meditation, I walked away with a smile on my face. This week, life tested me. And on many fronts I more than succeeded. While on others, it would seemingly appear that I failed. I let a part of my past bubble up inside of me. I let insecurity once again become my best friend. And I grasped at that darkness I had trained myself to let go of. That was my failure.

But with every failure comes a lesson, and, ultimately, triumph. I may have failed in not regaining my focus sooner, but the fact that I pushed away that fog of funk and found the sun again is my greatest success. This difficult week afforded me the opportunity to truly cherish all that is wonderful in my life. This week’s lessons reminded me that while I may be a small inhabitant of this thing called life, I am anything but insignificant. And that it is guaranteed that these hurdles will continue to creep up. And I will continue to stumble. But as long as I stumble forward, I am moving in the right direction. It doesn’t matter what path we take or how we venture upon it. It is the ultimate destination that matters. And that ultimate destination is happiness.

Until next time, Happy Living!


Redefining Resolutions

Resolutions. Many of us make them, and most of us break them. It’s February now, and I’m sure there are an infinite number of New Year’s Resolutions that have indeed been broken.

I overheard a conversation one day at work that got me thinking. A woman was talking about her desire to lose weight. But it was a Wednesday, and she resolved that it would be easier to start this new journey the following Monday. Start fresh. With a new week.

We plan our resolutions for the future, because it’s easier for us to come to terms with this idea of change when it’s not yet a part of our now. But a later time. In our minds, we believe that we can “prepare” ourselves for this change by the time it occurs.

Planning is always the easy part; it’s the doing that truly changes us.

In this world of instant gratification, it is no wonder that most of our resolutions are grandiose. Often, we seek to change a great deal of ourselves in a relatively short period of time – our appearance, our jobs, our living arrangements, our financial and social status, etc. We want a new “us” and we want it now!! To completely change ourselves and our life in such a short period of time (a year, for example), can be overwhelming to say the least.

Now, I’m not saying we shouldn’t have resolutions, because, I think they are probably one of the most important aspects of our growing self. However, I don’t think we should continuously schedule these ideas for a time in the future – New Year’s, next week, next month, etc. Instead, I think we should resolve to constantly re-evaluate our life, our family, our jobs, ourselves. To find those areas in which we must grow and change, and take small steps.

When seeking to change yourself and your life, remember the definition of evolution: “The gradual development of something.”

Dream big; change small.

Marathoners don’t take one giant leap to cover the 26. 2 miles, no, they cover that distance with many, much smaller steps. And while this statement may appear as commonsense, this basic principle often eludes us when we seek to change aspects of our lives.

Take a few moments each day to reflect. Think about the many areas in which you wish to improve. Then, from that daunting list, pick the smallest, most simplest of changes, and promise yourself to make this transformation occur in the now.

Over time, these small changes will grow into quite a dramatic alteration of who you really are. And it is these small changes that stick with us for a lifetime.

Until next time, Happy Living!

 


Community and the Dangers of Isolation ~ A Guest Post by Elise Stephens

Happy New Year everyone! This week, I have a special treat for you…. the very first guest post here on Lisa’s Liberation (yay)!! It is with nothing but pleasure that I allow the very lovely and talented Elise Stephens to take over my blog today…

Elise Stephens believes strongly in the healthful benefits of communities and friendships to keep her from going nuts.  She received the Eugene Van Buren Prize for Fiction from the University of Washington in 2007.  When she isn’t writing, she enjoys seeing live theater, swing dancing, eating tiramisu, singing, and painting.  She lives in Seattle with her husband James.  Her novel Moonlight and Oranges was a quarter-finalist for the 2011 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award.

            I begin the “writing” part of my day in silence and solitude.  My husband has left for work to spend most of his waking hours apart from me, and I sit with my paper, pen, and laptop ready to face myself, my thoughts, and whatever the amorphous world has to say about me and my writing. 

            No matter how many friends I have on Twitter or Facebook or the number of new emails my Gmail counter says are in my box, I can’t escape the loneliness that spreads quickly through the air in my house.  

            It’s a love/hate relationship when it comes to people and my work.  In college and afterwards, I made a point of telling people that I don’t like to collaborate, that group projects suck, and that I work better alone.  But when I got to test their theory, put me in a room by myself for a week and I’ll be begging you to bring someone, anyone, into the room with me.  The visitor doesn’t even have to talk; he or she just needs to share the space, breathe the same air, live in the same sphere.

            I wasn’t made to live 100% alone.  I wasn’t made to work 100% alone.   I know there are those who find peace and rejuvenation in solo time, and I respect that.  But I don’t believe it’s a healthy lifestyle for long periods. 

           When I quit my job to pursue writing full-time, it was a gutsy risk on two levels.  The first and obvious one was that I had no guarantees that anything I did with my writing would come to fruition or success.  The second more subtle risk was that I was cutting myself off from my co-workers, a community who fed a lot of my social needs.  I knew I couldn’t rely on my husband for all of my social interactions when he got home from work.  He’s a soft-spoken engineer whose daily quota of words if much lower than mine, and it would be an unfair expectation. 

            My career change had transferred my need for people into my own court of responsibility, and I wasn’t sure if I was up to the task—that is, to keep myself from depression and mild insanity.  Sure enough, I learned that if I spent a long amount of time by myself, no matter whether the task was creative or analytical, the depression would begin.  I soon had a hard time pulling myself out of bed, I’d count off the hours until my husband came home, and I’d started dreaming of “better” more financially savvy things to do with my time.  Now, keep in mind, being a novelist is a dream I’ve nurtured since early high school.  This was a deep part of me that was now dying and growing dark.

            Then I remembered that the days that spurred me toward the end of the week were the days I met with my friend in a coffee shop to write and visit for several hours.  I’d often complete all of my “chore” writing tasks on the other days of my week so that I could really look forward to my time with her.   My theme song (according to my mother) is “Part of Your World” from Disney’s Little Mermaid because she opens with the line: “I want to be where the people are.”  This was what I needed.  More time with people.

             I asked to join a local writers’ group that wrote together in a café and read aloud their rough drafts.  I swallowed my pride and asked my family, who lives near me, if I could come work at their kitchen table.  No one had to talk to me.  I just needed to feel the presence of people.  I found a group that met Friday nights to drink tea, eat cookies, and host an informal open mic with gentle, encouraging feedback.

            It worked.  I don’t care how distracting other people are, or how much one chatty friend might interrupt me when I’m in the middle of revising—I wouldn’t give that companionship up for the world. And without these friends, I might have lost the dream that meant the world to me.  I don’t know how many times I’ve turned to one of these friends after a disparaging review or a harsh critique or even just a directionless malaise, and been pulled upward by their encouragement and faith in me. 

            My community is fellow writers, family, and friends who support this (sometimes crazy) quest of mine.  It’s not just about being a writer in a community.  It’s about being a human needing other humans.   Sometimes it’s just a kind note from someone, but what really keeps me going is the partnership of shared time in the presence of people I love, supporting each other by showing up to work, sometimes in silence, sometimes with words, but always together.

            I hope I will never again be so arrogant as to think I don’t need other people’s help, even the help of just being in the same room with me, to remind me that I’m not alone, that we’re walking this path together.  I hope we all can, in our unique styles and variations, celebrate the joys and complexities of belonging to one another in a life-giving community.

Visit Elise at www.elisestephens.com and follow her on Twitter and Facebook.

Until next time, Happy Living!


Disconnecting from the World / Reconnecting with Myself

As I shared with many of you, I began this holiday season off at a Buddhist monastery for a day and a half retreat. My first one. This retreat was silent. Oh yes, Lisa did not say a thing for OVER 24-hours. Shocking, I know. I wasn’t allowed to have my cell phone or laptop, no connection to the high-tech world. I’ll admit it, when I first got there, the realization of having to really disconnect from life as I knew it was kind of like trying to breathe while someone was stacking concrete blocks on top of me. It was hard. Really hard.

But,  slowly, I felt the grip of my busy life let go, and a warm tranquility wash over me. I practiced very hard to keep my mind empty. To purge it of all the swirling thoughts that bounced around inside of me. And, as expected, there were moments when it just seemed impossible not to think about things. To worry. To dream. But I kept pushing them away and returning to the present. To my breath. I looked around at the room full of people who were here doing this with me. I didn’t know most of them, but, yet, when they smiled at me, I could sense the love and peace that flowed through them. I practiced not judging them, just seeing them for who and what they were. And it was another pleasant reminder that I’m not alone in this journey. Or in life. At all.  That silly realization actually sent shivers down my spine.

Most of the day was spent doing various meditation sessions, including walking meditation, which I found absolutely breathtaking. I could have walked for days and days. The weather was amazing, which, of course, didn’t hurt matters either. I found peace in those tree-lined paths. And beauty. And during that two-hour walk, I felt as though so much in the world made sense to me. And, at the same time, that so much of it doesn’t matter. That I really had been making life far more complicated than it should be. How could I ever be sad or upset or frustrated, when such wondrous beauty surrounds me? How easily I had forgotten how truly amazing the world really is. I took a picture of those woods in my mind, and promised myself to resurrect it when life began to get me down.

We also practiced yoga while there, which I loved (and was very happy that I didn’t slip and point the soles of my feet at any monk *wipes brow*). We had lunch, followed by more meditation. By the afternoon of my first day, I was both terribly frustrated by the fact I couldn’t speak, and also liberated that I could enjoy the company of others without constantly jabbering away.

That evening, during tea (we didn’t have ANY food after lunch – yeah, that was a tough one), there was a talk. Stories were shared with the guests. And there was one story that really spoke to me. One of the residents of the monastery, upon his arrival, took a vow of silence, and did not speak for eight months. And when he finally spoke  another resident asked: “Why eight months? What did the silence do?” He replied: “I realized that so much of what I had said in my life was of little or no consequence. Silence taught me to cherish words, so that when I did speak again, it would be to teach. To share.”

Um. Wow.

I wish I was that profound. And, I let his words fill me. Words. I, too, had taken them for granted. Words (both written and spoken) are a way for us to communicate all that is dear to us with another. I thought about how many words I had wasted and for what purpose? In that moment, I promised to try and never waste any aspect of my life again, whether it be money, words, friendship, love.

Before I knew it, it was time for bed. I was exhausted. Relaxing and disconnecting is hard work! So, I drifted off to sleep almost immediately. I awoke sometime in the wee hours of the morning. Perhaps around 2:00 or 3:00. As there was no clock there, I can’t be certain. I awoke thinking about writing, my writing friends, my non-writing friends, my job, basically every aspect of my life. And I thought about the things that frustrate me the most in life, and realized, upon weighing them against the good, that my life is so very wonderful. And, while I knew that life had been kind to me this past year, I had a new appreciation for it. I wanted to hug it and hold it near.

The following morning, I was awoken at 4:30 to the sound of a gong. Morning meditation time. Several more hours of contemplation and disconnection awaited me. I wondered if I’d be able to do it. Really be able to disconnect again and not think about anything. Regardless of whether or not I succeeded, I enjoyed the challenge.

And, finally, I felt myself completely let go. I’m not sure how long it lasted, but there was absolutely nothing flowing through me except breath and life. No thoughts. Nothing. And in that moment (or moments, however long it happened). I felt it. True happiness. True liberation. Everything really did make sense. So simple. So warm. It was like a runner’s high, except even higher.

And then it ended. We were told it was over. That we made it through our retreat. That we could speak. And something odd happened. None of us did. Not right away. I feel like a lot of us in the room connected with a part of ourselves we never knew existed in those last few moments of our stay there. It was an elderly woman who finally broke the silence and simply just laughed. And smiled. And we all followed her shortly thereafter.

What do you say after an experience like that?

All I kept thinking about was what that one resident had  said:  ”I realized that so much of what I had said in my life was of little or no consequence. Silence taught me to cherish words.”

I have a long way to go on my spiritual journey. I don’t think it’s possible to ever finish this kind of journey, because life as we know it is constantly changing. Constantly urging us to get caught up in the moment and forget what is the most important.

If I learned anything during this visit, it was that I have more control over myself and my mind than I ever imagined. And I want to do something with that control. Something worthwhile not just for me, but for others too. I also wanted to make sure that once I re-entered the busy world, that I always remember to enjoy moments of peace and tranquility. Fit them into my day. Try to get to that place I did in those last few moments of the retreat. And to let go to a little more repressed hostility, sadness and bitterness each and every day. Pretend that I’m back in those woods.

Will I be going to another retreat? Oh, yes. I plan to sign up for a week-long retreat next summer. *Gulp* A whole week with no words.

You know what?

I can do it.

___________

Tip of the Week:

What’s more stressful than the holidays, right? Make sure to take a moment during this busy season to find a quiet corner (even a closet if that’s all you can find). And, if only for a few moments, close your eyes and focus on your breath, slowly inhale and exhale. Visualize all those thoughts and worries in your mind. Grab them. All of them. Wrap them up in a box, maybe even throw a bow on top, and walk them to the back corner of your mind. They’ll be there when you need them again (if at all). And instead of focusing on the pain of your past, and the many, many hopes of your future, bask in the magnificence of today. You’re in control. You’re alive. And you matter.

___________

No matter what holiday you celebrate, make it a happy one. Happiness is as simple as sadness. It’s a choice. I know that my happiness over this past year is due in large part to the amazing people who have surrounded me (both online and off). And for that, I will be eternally grateful.

Until next week, Happy Living!


Judgment Day

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” they say. But we do. We all do.

And it’s not just books we judge. We judge people – our friends, coworkers, strangers, and even family members – no one can escape it.

The biggest aspect of my journey to become a more awakened and enlightened individual, has been teaching myself to look inward, often at times when my focus (and my ego) is analyzing everything around me.

No one likes to go to Court and be judged, and the same holds true in our everyday lives. But yet, we do it. We judge. And often, we don’t even realize we’re doing it. And when someone judges us, we usually judge them right back. Or at least, that’s how it is in my world.

I’m fortunate enough to work with someone I consider a best friend. It was a normal day at the office and we were riding the elevator up to the third floor. She looked over at me and said: “Thank you for letting me be myself around you.” And I thought that was a fascinating thing to say to someone. But yet, so true. Why can’t we be ourselves around others?

You want the short answer?

Fear.

It’s the root of most emotions and actions in our lives. The fear of failure, the fear of loneliness, the fear of change, the fear of being judged, and even the fear of dying. It is what propels us forward.

Or does it?

In actuality, I think most of us are afraid of living. More specifically, living the life we actually want. Being the person we really are.

I’ve been judged before. And I’ve judged as well. And it didn’t get me anywhere. In fact, being judgmental can be socially debilitating. My judgments led me to befriending people who, if I had taken the time to actually see them for who they were, would have steered clear of. And, led me to ignore those who were true inside and out, merely because I let my ego get the better of me and, as many so often do, misjudged.

When I started to step back and observe, I noticed that judgment teaches us nothing and leads us nowhere.

One of my most favorite books is Dr. Wayne Dyer’s Change your Thoughts – Change your Life. In it, he tells us:

Let the world unfold without always attempting to figure it all out. Let relationships just be… When expectations are shattered, practice allowing that to be the way it is. Relax, let go, allow, and recognize that some of your desires are about how you think your world should be, rather than how it is in that moment. Become an astute observer… judge less and listen more. Take time to open your mind to the fascinating mystery and uncertainty that we all experience… bask in the magnificence of what is seen and sensed, instead of always memorizing and categorizing.

Just this week, I was able to start putting this lesson into practice. A co-worker said something to me. Something judgmental. And the words stung a little, and I felt my ego start to rise up, but I took a deep breath and looked inward. I had to look down at the floor and see if my tongue had fallen off – I bit it that hard. Instead of judging them. Instead of trying to convince them I was what they wanted me to be, I remained quiet. If they choose to label me, judge me, and not get to know me, that is just how it is. But I no longer feel the need to play along in this judgmental game. I smiled and walked away, knowing exactly who I am inside and out.

Until next week, Happy Living!


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